Between good and evil . . .
 By Emmanuelle
is the deep blue sea. There, amidst its wonders, are fish and floaters that nip and snip and snap at fellow fish and fellow floaters. And bump ‘em and chomp ‘em, as the food chain goes. Where what is shallow are its shores, and unfathomable is not what is beyond understanding but an abyss from where one comes back rarely if at all. Where sneaky refers to flesh-eaters disguised as jellies, weeds and rocks, seemingly harmless but so dreadfully deadly.
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Filed under Opinion, Feelings by Sunday Punch.
The Bossed and the Bossing
 By Emmanuelle
IF you were deaf, you can still hear clearly; if you were blind, you can still see plainly. Only the hopelessly crazed and the very dead have lost their feeling ways.
The following may be fun pun, but it is not funny, and neither is it puny.
The rebellion starts with: Everything’s sober. Sobra na. It’s too much to bare. Di ko na kaya. There must be most to life than this. I may owe the boss the food displaced on my table, something which I cannot payback time; but he cannot repossess my soul. He cannot decide for or against, above or beyond the diction of my conscience. He sustains me, but I refuse to be overruled. There is no question mark about this, or any of those comatose. Hanggang dito na lamang, maraming salamat na lang. I tuldok my period. My heart is free, not frozen meat. Excuse me, bossing, while I cause you shame. Your slip is showing soon.
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Filed under Opinion, Feelings by Sunday Punch.
Beware: Children Crosssing!
 By Emmanuelle
CONNECT me if I were wronged, but did we witness the lower housing stand united for one glorious or inglorious (no Gloria pun intended, please don’t Amparo me) moment in music history? Or did we just see it give birth again to yet another faction - that of the utterly disgusted - with members coming from those who AB-dominally-STAINED or voted NO or were too weak to NO better? I guest one’s sight defends on the Claridad of one’s eyes. Or on the way one perceives all things great and small God made them all.
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Filed under Opinion, Feelings by Sunday Punch.
Babytalk (Part 3)
 By Emmanuelle
LUCKY are those whose every triumph in life are well-preserved in a library of precious memories - baby’s first album, pictures or slides calendared and captioned; honor ribbons, medals, sashes and diplomas framed or laminated and displayed on walls; plaques and trophies dust-free and shiny on shelves; tapes or discs labeled and stacked on racks. Some proud parents would even go as far as have their children’s names, and their college degrees, blown-up in size and exhibited prominently at the facade of the house! Aligned and in order!
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Filed under Opinion, Feelings by Sunday Punch.
Babytalk (Part 2)
 By Emmanuelle
First thing first. FEELINGS would like to express its appreciation for the calls, emails, and SMS from the regular readers of the hard copy and the webpage - Pangasinenses migrating to the nation’s thousands of islands, overseas Filipino workers in the Middle East and other places as strange, Filipino immigrants with Pangasinan in their hearts. And these would include the surfers here and abroad, the chance reader, and the namumulot o nang-aagaw lamang ng diaryo who send, nevertheless, their comments or opinions just as feelingly as the regulars.
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Filed under Opinion, Feelings by Sunday Punch.
Babytalk
 By Emmanuelle
PUCKER the lips for the tsup tsup then stretch them wide for the mwah mwah. Smack a yummy yum yum for a mouth-watering fingerdip; spit out a yackity yuck for that nasty icky taste. Duh for the dumb act, ahhh if it dazzled and wawawi if you are staggered. Please meme the bebe to sleep. Momo, say hello to the mamaw. And stamp the foot nonononono to counter stamp the foot likelikelikelikelike!
If you think you are past beyond baby talk, you’ve got another think coming.
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Filed under Opinion, Feelings by Sunday Punch.
Lost in translation
 By Emmanuelle
You do not have to be a Filipino in Japan or in China, black-orbs among quaint slit-eyes, to be lost in translation.
You can be just as lost, if you were one or more centuries older than the present batch of spiked-haired pre-adults; dyed green, orange or any of the colors outlandish.
When I say spiked, I do not only refer to hair stiffly frightfully standing up; it goes throats deeper than that. And dyed is what happens when one enters a salon a native, then emerges shockingly an alien.
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Filed under Opinion, Feelings by Sunday Punch.
Time
 By Emmanuelle
EACH time we crossover from December 31 to January 1, it is like seeing Alice of Wonderland fame opening a door from the present to future time.
Try to imagine this scene.
One day, Alice finds a door on which is carved the two faces of the Roman god, Janus. According to myth, this god used one face to look back to the past and the other face to look ahead to the future.
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Filed under Opinion, Feelings by Sunday Punch.
A Talk with God
 By Emmanuelle
(Part 2)
They say: it could not be. She surely could not have had a talk with God.
She says: why could this not be? First, see that it could be, before you say it could surely not be. One must breathe in first, before one must breathe out. Or is it the other way around?
Anyway, after she talked or dreamed of a talk with God, she did not know why but she had this urgent need to tell this old, forgotten tale of a child who saw three kings with their gifts of gold, myrrh and frankincense for another Child.
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Filed under Opinion, Feelings by Sunday Punch.
A Talk with God
 By Emmanuelle
Ten days before the birth of His Son, she writes of a talk with Him who sent down His Son. Too, she is back to the count of one. Like: Oh, gosh. Oh, God. Oh, hush.
There are times, you see, when it seems one is left with no choice but to turn one’s back to the sun. From what is sane, to what is not. Or from what is not sane, to what is. Take a pick.
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Filed under Opinion, Feelings by Sunday Punch.
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