ahay

sobrang naiintindihan ko na wut pangungulila means. my boy had been sick and mejo melodramatic lately. and shucks. i'm stuck here for four more weeks. i wanna wanna go home. i miss you angelo.

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on the other hand since the election is all the hype out here.. i'm sharing a quote from someone everyone knows..

On May 17, 1946, my father was driving from Chicago to Hope to fetch his wife. Late at night, he lost control of his car, when the right front tire blew out on a wet road. He was thrown clear of the car but landed in, or crawled into, a drainage ditch. He drowned, only 28 years old, married 2 years & 8 months, only 7 months of which he had spent with Mother.

When I was about 12, sitting on my uncle's porch in Hope, a man walked up the steps, looked at me, & said, "You're Bill Blythe's son. You look just like him." I beamed for days. My father left me with the feeling that I had to live for two people, and that if I did it well enough, somehow I could make up for the life he should have had. And his memory infused me, at a younger age than most, with a sense of my own mortality. The knowledge that I, too, could die young drove me both to try to drain the most out of every moment of life and to get on with the next big challenge. Even when I wasn't sure where I was going, I was always in a hurry.

My Life, Bill Clinton