Benjamin Button: My name is Benjamin Button, and I was born under unusual circumstances. While, everyone else was agin’, I was gettin’ younger… all alone

Benjamin Button: I was thinking how nothing last, and what a shame that is.

Daisy: Some things last.

“You never know what’s coming for you”

“We are defined by opportunities, even the ones we miss”

“You can be as mad as a mad dog at the way things went, you can curse the fates, but when it comes to the end, you have to let go.”

Daisy: You’re so young.

Benjamin Button: Only on the outside.

Daisy: Are you sick?

Benjamin Button: They said I was gonna die soon but, maybe not.

Daisy: You’re odd.

“Life can only be understood looking backward. It must be lived forward.”

“You never know what’s coming for you.”

“It’s a funny thing coming home. Nothing changes. Everything looks the same, feels the same, even smells the same. You realize what’s changed, is you.”

“I want to remember us, just as we are now.”

“I look a lot older than I really am.”

Daisy: “Make love to me?”

Benjamin: “Absolutely!”

For what it’s worth, it’s never too late, or in my case too early, to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit… start whenever you want… you can change or stay the same. There are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. I hope you see things that stop you. I hope you feel things that you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life that you’re proud of and if you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.

-Benjamin Button

“We were meant to lose people. How else would we know how important they are?”

“Have I ever told you I’ve been struck by lightning seven times?”

“Along the way you bump into people who make a dent on your life. Some people get struck by lightning. Some are born to sit by a river. Some have an ear for music. Some are artists. Some swim the English Channel. Some know buttons. Some know Shakespeare. Some are mothers. And some people can dance.”

“It’s never too late, or in my case too early, to be whoever you want to be… I hope you live a life you’re proud of. And if you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.”

“Did I ever tell you I was struck by lightning 7 times?”

“When you return after being away, you realize that the only thing that has changed, is you.”

 I choose to privatize this entry for the sole reason that somebody might get hurt with this.

 So here’s the thing, I do not want to hurt somebody with this entry, it’s just that I intend this as a mere observation only. An observation which I haven’t shared to those concerned, lest they would get hurt with it.

 When the rich and famous encounter problems, I guess they sort of go crazy, or wreck other people’s lives. Okay, I’m talking here about the sort of Paris Hilton, Britney Spears type. The Booze, the pills, and money are overflowing. Gimiks everyday, all night partying, going home in the wee hours of the morning quite wasted. Sometimes even involving themselves in an accident in the freeway. Oh, maybe even forgetting where had they parked their automobiles last night. Not to mention several packs of nicotine.

 They’re rich, and they’re famous. They think that just because they have that money, some of them are not in the corporate world, but are literal bums for the matter, they have the right to do this.

 While in reality, they are no one but parasites to their families..

 I mean, who would like to forever shelter a wasted person who has no direction in his or her life but to be seen in the hottest club scenes in town? No one. Erase that, yes there might be someone, but please. Grow up. It’s okay if you are only in your teenage years, but if you are already approaching thirty?! (rolling my eyes..) Good riddance, just f*cking grow up.

 Face the facts kiddo, your parents are not going to support you forever. One day the karma is going to be go back to you, ten times fold. Be responsible enough for your own actions.

 For the other party concerned, you too,should need growing up. I mean, please. You are not exactly setting a good example to the young ones. You are the only one they have. I am not condemning you being in the hottest events in the metro. All I am saying is, be more responsible than what you are right now. Quit the pills, quit the booze. It’s not as if you are not responsible enough, for you are, and I salute you for that.

 Your world are so f*cked up, and that’s scary.

 Hoping that your type would find their senses, and be responsible enough for your ages.

I attended the wake last night for Ernesto Santos. He was my lecturer for Math 64, the course I took the summer of 2001-2002.

He died last friday, June 20, 2008. Some of the Math people had said that it was due to kidney failure. A few years back, he already had a kidney operation.

I just learned the news thru one of my contacts in multiply. Instantly, I sensed my desire of wanting to be there. Scratch that, the need to be there. Even though he might not remember me as a student, even though Mrs Santos might not recall my face from one of the hundreds of freshman college students that she has thought Math 17, I felt that I had to be there.

And so I came.

Never mind if I had no blockmate whom I could snag to come. Oh, a friend asked if I have plans staying there for long, and if I did, she would have followed me there. But never mind if I realized that some of the Math people on the wake were not my close friends, nor my crowd when I was college. But still, I needed to be there.

I needed, to pay respects to one of the most respected professors in the Math department. Even though he might not remember me at all, he had been a part of my college life. I remember the three and a half hours of my first summer class as a Math major in UP. We had weekly exams. We would go to school every day, five days a week, at seven in the morning, with only a fifteen minute break. It was not an easy course, and when other people would have the summer of their lives resting and lounging, we racked our brains, with calculus.

I remembered my classmates and I wondering with awe with the ease that he had when he does a perfect circle, without even using a string to do so, the dotted lines in the chalkboard that he seemed talented in, and which it took a lot of trials for us to figure out.

He was one of the known (or was it the original?) Voltes V team: Mr and Mrs Santos, Sir Agapito, Sir Noli, and Hermosilla (hmm, did I got that right?). He had this strict demeanor in him that would make one ordinary student frightened (?) of him, but it was always bordering with respect for this professor. Some Math faculty had commented on the jokes that he used to give whenever he was invited to make a speech in the department. Jokes delivered, with a still, serios manner, but would make the audience laugh despite themselves nonetheless.

I seldom write entries like this, but as one of your math students, I’d like to dedicate this entry to you.

Thank you Sir Ernesto R Santos.