I wonder if Manila could ever be this clean and beautiful again. My heart is hopeful. 

theurbanhistorian:

iamsupertian:

Manila Bay in 1920s:

Taft Venue in mid 30s:

Escolta Street 1940s:

Quezon Boulevard 1942:

Manila 1950s:

Manila 1960s:

Luneta Park 1960s:

Quiapo Church 1960s:

Dewey Boulevard 1965 (now Roxas Blvd):

Escolta 1968:

CCP 1970s

A bus from 1983 :)

Rizal Park:

The old Manila is beautiful! No traffic, no pollution, we have lots of trees, wide sidewalks, and no dirts. Stunning and very historical.

2 deck bus? Srsly?

theannoyingskwid:

MORE FROM theannoyingskwid

(Source: tits-and-champagne)

theannoyingskwid:

accioalpacas:

nefariouslyme:

Whoever wrote this deserves an award.

I will never not reblog this

MORE FROM theannoyingskwid

(Source: i-bro-out)

GTop’s son? 

heckyesitsfreakingtop:

why do i see Tabi despite the orange hair lol

Sadness woke me up. I want to go back to sleep. I’m sick and this is the last thing I need. But there it is, annoying as it is. 

afflictedpoet13:

Kim Jaejoong in glasses is just plain hot :D I dig his glasses

Can’t wait for this!!! :D August 31, ilang tulog na lang! 

pinoytumblr:

If you find the idea of a zombie invasion absurd, wait until you feast your eyes on the newest, most-awaited, and one-of-a-kind movie this generation.

Award-winning local film-makers behind the critically-acclaimed movies Magnifico, Anak, Endo and Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros came out with what could possibly be an epic scare into one hilarious movie.

Director-Writer Jade Castro, Producer-Writer Raymond Lee, and Writer Michiko Yamamoto once again took a stab at a new film genre which gave birth to Zombadings 1: Patayin sa Shokot si Remington. “(This is) a coming of age story; a coming together of friends and family story and a coming of Zombadings story,” explains Castro.

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This is something I wrote in response to a video by Wong Fu Productions called “When Five Fell”. I am supposed to make a video for this but haven’t got the time to do it. I wrote this almost a year ago (September 29, 2010 to be exact). I am still optimistic that one day I’ll be able to make a video for this. And it could finally be a video response instead of just a blog entry. :D Wong Fu, wait for me. 

Falling in love is a process. It starts, in the simplest of ways with sight. Time could vary. It could be a split second: a fleeting moment when someone crosses your line of sight and catches your attention. But it could also stretch for a very long time. Like a lifetime. You really can’t tell when it happened. Or how. All you know is that one day something changed. And the way you see someone is different.

And then you hear them. An introduction of who they are or what they are. This is a tricky part of the process. For sometimes volumes can be said with so little words. And sometimes a lot of words end up being empty sounds and noises. Sometimes what you hear and what you choose to hear could spell the difference of what you see. It all depends perhaps on how we listen.

Then there’s contact. This feels like the most difficult part of the process. There are so many ways to touch a person. A handshake. A hug. A kiss. Making love. There are also those non-physical connections you make—emotional bridges you build and strengthen over time. We make so many connections each day but most of them stay on the surface. Others we feel more. But one will always feel different. Separate from the rest. Stronger and sturdier. And yet, this one is also the most fragile. Like a glass to be handled with care. Sometimes, a simple touch can speak too. Can you hear it? It’s asking you to feel.

Now taste is a little bit more complicated. It takes a while to get there. It builds up, strikes you out of nowhere and before you even have a clue, a person’s grown on you. And you want more and more of them—like a craving wanting to be satisfied. It tickles your taste buds. It reminds you over and over why you like it. It tells you what you want and need. More spice, more sweetness, a bit salty? Or is it going sour? Like everything else too much of something is never a good thing. So even when wanting, it cannot be too much.

Sometimes, occasionally—we close our eyes for a second and when we open our eyes again, the world has changed. It’s not part of the process. It’s more like a part of life. It’s like one of those dances where you change partners. In twirls life leads you into different directions. And all of a sudden you can’t see, can’t hear, can’t touch, cannot satisfy that craving in your tongue. Everything becomes a blur. And then you forget.

You see someone new. But it’s never quite the same. You hear them in your head. But it’s never quite the same. The touch is never quite the same. The taste will never be the same. And you swim in that great big ocean of strangers—lost. Nothing is familiar.

Nothing. Until the scent whips by you.

An aroma you will never forget. A perfume that lingers on your skin. It’s from the touch—from that kiss, that hug when you made love. The smell awakens you. You can almost taste it. You can almost see it. There’s that laugh again. It’s music to your ears. You turn to follow where it’s coming from. Suddenly the ocean is not that big anymore. Suddenly everything is familiar.

You turn around and you see her.

And you remember. 

Dreaming of you, my invisible lover

Where are you tonight? 

Though I can still feel you here

Your memory is starting to fade

Come back to me

I need you

Please come back

top4eva:

Your car is German. Your vodka is Russian. Your pizza is Italian. Your kebab is Turkish. Your democracy is Greek. Your coffee is Brazilian/Colombian. Your films are American. Your humour is Jewish. Your tea is Indian. Your oil is Saudi Arabian. Your electronics are Chinese. Your numbers are Arabic and your letters are Latin.

Whether you are black, white, yellow, tan, green..etc…Your world is made possibly because of everyone’s input. Appreciate everyone for who they are.