Monthly Archives: November 2013

Arch360 Philippines

Here’s a shout out to the “oldie” Civil Engineer proponents who are pushing for CEs to be allowed to sign architectural plans. Civil Engineering undergrads, we hope you get to read this, and we hope it spurs you to wake up and take a look at how illogical your oldies are. -_-

This post is not an affront to the Civil Engineers of the Philippines. Its sole purpose is to illustrate simple truths that the less-corrupt officials of our government should consider:

Engineering does not have a SINGLE design class, and they’re going to be allowed to sign design plans? Architecture students take FIVE structural design classes to complete the course. I’m guessing majority of CE students aren’t aware of this. Yes, we know how to design beams, columns, footings and trusses to combat shear, bending, buckling, etc. Yes, we have to ingrain empirical formulas in our heads to…

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i can’t seem to forget your scent;
i’m not talking about your little experiment with that tiny bottle of bliss.
or maybe it’s how your clothes smell.  or maybe just their warmth.
or your warmth.
it makes me laugh to think that i fell
once for the scent of vanilla and the ruby pullbacks of a lion’s mane,
twice for the mobile arm draped half-hug that happened once
or maybe thrice;
that i ran back to those vanilla beans,
now a bit too sweet for my liking, a lion and a snake in one big pullover.
and how your silhouette stayed in front of that mane and i could still feel
your full embrace,
the unkempt strands on your head
between my fingers, half asleep between empty pillow talks and empty
houses and unsent messages with restless nights that got me to search
for your face
in dreamless stupor, only to
wake a bit too early before getting a chance to feel, hear, or know anything.
both in each other’s reach and rarely greeting the Enter key until one day,
time ran out,
and it crept behind my cheeks with
readied bloodstains; it crept behind our fingers and they pressed down
more than once. i was reminded of your antics and the overused commas
that i missed.
and i remind myself to just stay put.
because it still creeps on and all that i can really do for now is try to find
something else that smells like your clothes and try to wait for something
just as warm.

and nothing else will.

You’re only good at fighting
And I refuse to run
There’s nowhere to meet in the middle
If you won’t drop your gun

Well Justice may have once been blind
But now she can see, she just lost her mind
So we put her away

I know you’re trying to even the score
But every time you just do worse
Than before

Your freedom is ripe but you pay the price
For plucking the fruit from the tree
Go as Eve

Or better yet, you could leave it there
Until it sails down through the air
To rot on the ground
Never to be found

Freedoms such an ugly thing
And we’re faced with awful choices
But why is it always the worst of both worlds
When we combine our voices?