thefugitiveçš„ä¸»é

thefugitiveçš„ä¸»é http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive Wed, 23 Dec 2009 12:54 EST Wed, 23 Dec 2009 12:54 EST Zorpia.com one with the people http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1752830 Because we are one with the people....our eyes see clearer...our minds perceive deeper and our hearts beats stronger...because we are one with the people. its easy to tirumph our hardship, wade through the turbulent water and float in the clouds of hope and because our eyes see clearer..our minds perceived deeper and our hearts beat stronger. There is every reason for joy in the midst of struggle, there is every reason for laughter, there is every reason for warmth, there is every reason for..... Dialectics also grapples with the unseen, material reality is the anti -thesis  of thought, the unseen part of the brain.emotions surface from physical experiences, and the unseen becomes dominant over the physical....but only for a fleeting instance   Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1752830 Mon, 03 Dec 2007 10:01 EST WOMEN ARTIST IN A CULTURE OF TERROR http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1721842 It is long been overdue, but I canâ€™t shut my mind to wonder;  As a woman I wonder what my role here is in our society aside from being the sex object of men and their passion (I have a friend who once asked me â€œif a man do something good to you, you will have sex with him in returnâ€ I was speechless, not because of his question but because of wondering, where this man came from, in 1600â€™s? In the world of technology saying sex is the only thing that women can do. I wonder what the feminist will say about this.). We have women who excel in their fieldsâ€¦. as well as women who have been persecuted by their societies. As mothers, wives and daughters, all of them assume a great role. The big contribution of women is giving half of their life to humanities.               I am a woman, a painter. In an art world dominated by men, you can count in your fingers the women in this fieldâ€¦â€¦ But I am not worried about being in the world of men. My mind is occupied worrying as an artist, what I can do in to society, is my art connected or am I isolated as an artist to the problem of our society, given the situation now, massive corruption, cheating and now the most pet project of our government and the friends in military, extra judicial killings... I pity mothers who lost their daughters and the sons, the wives, who is now widowed and worried how their families will be fed, the daughters and sons that have been orphaned by their mothers due to summary executions.                  As a painter, I got my talent from my father. His advocacy to serve the people, this legacy he left to us, his art that serves the basic masses, From his statement â€œâ€¦..My art is the anguished expressions of people long denied of justice and equalityâ€. Since my father fed us from these art works, it got into my system that now I think the same way he did nowâ€¦ But I am afraid and confused. Afraid of dying in hunger, because the art collectors or gallery, will not give a chance to my art work, just because I paint the realities and pains of our people. It will be bad to their fengshui or the riches who will not buy the paintings that picturing the massacre of farmers, Since they are the one who has money and landlords too. Afraid of one day, I will see myself in prison or die in the hands of a men in bonnet, riding in motorcycle, I am afraid about the future of sons and daughters of women, fear of this culture of war and terror. Confused? Yeah! as I am afraid now. My right foot is in the world of â€œbahala naâ€, I will be quiet and do nothing and watch them got killed, I am neither a labor leader nor a student, I am not a bishop or human rights worker. It will never come my way. and There is Angie Ipong and Axel Pinpin, writers and a cultural workers like me, they were captured and tortured. How sure I am now? And my left foot is in the world that â€œI have to do something or else, I will be nextâ€. Yes, I am thinking about those who speak against the fascism of this government who will end up in a cemetery. They will fabricate cases to execute their targets. Thatâ€™s the problem of the activists who have been killed. Even afraid they speak and express their rights and grievances, the injustice that they suffered. Killing them is killing freedom of expressions, inherent right of artists. I am a painter, an artist with no weapon in my hands that can kill, but I have my brushes and canvas, enough to awaken my viewers, to penetrate their hearts and minds, for them to see lifeâ€™s realities. To hear the injustice, the struggle of basic Filipino masses against fascism. I will paint not the happy farmers picnicking under the tree, the farmers who are crying out for their lands, for the students hoping for free education, for the workers who cannot buy their foods and for the Filipinos who are squatters in their own country. For the abused women, The basic masses, i wil paint them until my viewers will understand why they are in streets protesting, why they are targeted by summary executions, why until now the Filipinos are still in chained. Yes to freedom of expressions! No to culture of terror! STOP THE EXTRA JUDICIAL KILLINGS! <object width="425" height="350"><param value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EMgOB3Pl_iI" name="movie" /><param value="transparent" name="wmode" /><embed allowNetWorking="internal" AllowScriptAccess="sameDomain" width="425" height="350" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EMgOB3Pl_iI" /></object> Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1721842 Wed, 29 Aug 2007 01:31 EST PLEASE READ! http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1712679      to those polite people that visit my page..thank you....leave a msgs and will be with you as soon as i can be......if u request for me to add u..i will.....for those who ask and look for cyber sex.....get lost....im here at zorpia to have friends not sex..unless, i would sign up for cyber sex site....im tired of blocking u guys....for those who ask my msn or yahoo...i wont give u....unless u stablished a good trust of friendship....i dont like to chat with men and request a cam..and say how hot i am while they are masturbating under their desktop.       i dont care about you're looks, race or color....all i need is you're sincerity even we are in the virtual world and deceptions....      by the way..i am from the Philippines....i f u saw me in different country...im having fun of moving around the world at zorpia......because i am a FUGITIVE!   Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1712679 Sat, 04 Aug 2007 01:24 EST I'm okay http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1712105  Friends often ask "how are you", and you get to thinking: "what am i supposed to say?"...after all the heartaches....missing the person and u cant do something....after hearing the killing of activists...after  i learned the abduction of a dear friend.. allegedly by millitary men....just because he choosed to live and stay with the farmers, help them, teach them, organized them how to fight with their rights...exploited by the landlords..feelin helpless when i saw his mother cryin...hopeless to see him alive like other activists went missing.. The easiest thing to do is answer back flippanty.... I'm okay...but you're soul whispers, "well, I'm not.....What is it? manners? the desire to please? conditioning? all these tell you that the right answer to "how are you?" is "I'm okay".What an equation ? well, healing begins what embracing could be a painful fact..."I'm not okay"....then it leads to a comforting thoughts that sometimes it is okay not to be okay when youre world turned upside down....turning it back the "right" side up....sure messes up everything that have found their old places in the life you've struggled to build..in the safe and unsafe corners you've somehow managed to discover....Being okay gets redefined too and does you're past, gets new meaning as does you're presents, brings new dreams of being in the road that awaits you're hessitants steps.   Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1712105 Thu, 02 Aug 2007 11:40 EST the diamonds of my page http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1709728 my friends that means a lot to meBryod......alway make me laugh and flirt with me (he always flirt to everyone that has skirt..lol)Roj Mark..one of a kind , though we dont talk much...i know u will be there when i needed uVenomous...aka..Jon..like to molested everyone on his page...including me..but he is cool, the white pinoy...i like this guy for bein so talented..Kurt..the doctor of my heart..always there when need to laugh..Samir..always love your graphics..that always remind me of u.Marwan..a friend that not always speak but u can sense that he is a good friend.Messut....lol..my unsung heroeJarret..my first friends at zorpia that makes my eyes twinkle when i read his msgs..Shaddy...always feeds my brain..thank u for the words of wisdom that always pull my legs..Ronnie...we share the principle and ideology that makes him stand out of the crowd..Ezzat..the gentleman of zorpia..i love u..Ryan...my brother in law that i can talk too and share my sentiments..cindy..oh my crazy sister that will never left u behind of the battle...( i love her when she played lesbo)Raj...thanks for loving me nd fighting with me..but u always understand me..Z..my zorpian crush (sad he is gay )...he ruined my goody goody images here..he give me the crown of being the perv queen..but its ok as long as he is the king..Max..never forget me to check in my everyday lifeSaggittari..my fling and buddy.....lol.....love the dinner and the lochness monsterErkin..my sweet and thoughtful erkin..i miss u sweety...............they are the diamonds at my page that twinkling everytime im sad and happy...love u guys..   Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1709728 Fri, 27 Jul 2007 04:12 EST real friends http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1709369 friends are like flowers in the garden of life....its easy to have friends..to ask friendship.....just say hi.....but it is hard to find real friend......friends that will accept u, laugh with u, stay with u even ur so corny telling ur love story....cry with u..yes its rare to have a real friend in this world of technology where lies and deceit is an opportunity......i am thankful that i find true friends..even on virtual world...   Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1709369 Thu, 26 Jul 2007 02:39 EST "grecill a child Warrior" http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1672551 <div class="clearfix" id="message" style="VISIBILITY: visible"> <div id="yiv681100193"> <div id="ygrp-mlmsg" style="WIDTH: 655px"> <div id="ygrp-msg" style="PADDING-RIGHT: 15px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; FLOAT: left; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; WIDTH: 490px; PADDING-TOP: 0px"> <div id="ygrp-text">   <div>PDI April 22, 2007 at 9:45 am Her name was Grecil by Patricia Evangelista* She was 9 years old. She had big brown eyes and shiny black hair. She liked spider-fighting and watching "Wowowee," and woke up at six every morning for the hour-long walk down the mountain to her second-grade class. Her teacher said she should study harder, and she did, because she was a little girl who wanted to be a nurse someday. She had a medal for "Most Neat" at the end of the school year. In the summer, she played with the other children, racing rubber bands while hopping in green-slippered feet. Her name was Grecil, and she was killed, shot once on the elbow and once on the head. Her father did not believe she was dead until he saw the small shattered body laid out under the scorching sun at the PNP headquarters, the foot in a dusty green rubber slipper, the grimy rubber band attached to the foot. Her mother says that she was sometimes naughty, but the military says she had been very, very bad. On March 31, 2007, more than 30 men from the New People's Army appeared in Purok 6, Barangay Kahayag in Compostela Valley, Grecil's neighborhood. Five men went to her home, carrying arms and asking to use the family's pots and pans to cook. Grecil's father Gregorio allowed them. The NPA's guns were long, he says, and he was afraid for his children. A Commission on Human Rights report verifies his claim, saying, "The residents had no other recourse but to abide [by] their request." On that morning, Grecil and her 6-year-old brother Dodong had gone to the river behind their house to bathe. Her two other sisters, both younger, stayed at home. It was around nine o'clock when the military arrived. Grecil's father Gregorio says there was no warning for the civilians to take cover, just three staccato bursts of a gun and then the rapid fire of machine guns. The family ran down the mountain with the two younger children. "My wife asked me about Grecil and Dodong, I said they were safe in the river, they were bathing far away from the gunfire." The shooting between military and NPA lasted two hours. Gregorio's home, now riddled with bullets, was the target. Gregorio left his wife and children with his mother-in-law in the village. He was on the way to find Grecil and Dodong when his son caught up with him. He asked the boy where his sister was; Dodong said she was right behind him when they heard shots. When he looked back again, she was gone. In an affidavit, witness Lorena Seguido said Grecil had run back to the house in the midst of the shooting. No one was allowed up the mountain. Conflicting stories filtered down to the family. Three children were killed. One child was killed. Grecil was carrying a gun. Grecil was dead. Gregorio was told to stay in the barangay hall. Someone from the military would come to talk to him. He waited until two o'clock, until he saw a minicab pass by, guarded by two APCs loaded with soldiers. There was a body in the minicab. The next time Gregorio saw his daughter, it was in the PNP headquarters. Grecil's godfather, the barangay captain, had carried her down from the mountain. In an affidavit, Barangay Captain Eulogio Bigno Almasa stated he, with others, had gone up to Purok 6 to assist the populace after they heard the gunfire. At the encounter site, they saw the dead girl lying on the ground. The back of Grecil's head had been blasted off. Almasa claims no firearms were found near the body. The military watched as Gregorio cried and cursed. Grecil's death was initially reported by the military as that of an 11-year-old boy's. On April 2, 2007, the Inquirer released a report based on statements from the 10th Civil Affairs Unit of the Army's 8th Infantry Battalion: a 12-year-old child warrior in the New People's Army was killed during heavy fighting between government forces and NPA rebels in New Bataan, Compostela Valley province. They identified her as Grecil Buya. "Buya was spotted earlier armed with an M-16 rifle at the encounter site at Purok 6, Sitio Simsimin, Barangay Kahayag in New Bataan before the gun battle between a platoon of soldiers led by 2nd Lt. Francis John Gabawa and 30 NPA rebels under a Ka Maya and a Ka Pandi." The CHR released the military's After Encounter Report of the operation, detailing the losses from both government and enemy. On the government side, one Pfc. Ruben Brecero, PA was killed in action. On the enemy side, there were two casualties, one was undetermined, the other was Grecil Buyaâ€”killed in action. Soldiers told Gregorio they would prove that he was an NPA member, and so was his daughter. They told him they found the guns left by the NPA during the encounter in Gregorio's home, and they had Grecil's school ID. They said they were forced to shoot Grecil because she was carrying a gun. Her father said it wasn't true, that all she carried to the river was a bar of soap in a green plastic bag. They said they would file charges of rebellion and illegal possession. They asked him repeatedly if he was going to file a case against the military. He did not answerâ€”he wanted to mourn for his daughter first. The child had not even been buried yet. Neighbors claimed harassment. The soldiers tried to strike a dealâ€”they would not file if Gregorio would not file. Both villagers and barangay officials vouch for Grecil and Gregorio. The barangay captain claims he is 100 percent certain they are not NPA, that Grecil goes to school and that Gregorio plants, and sells tuba daily. Gregorio's own father was killed by the NPA. Gregorio and Pacita are now in Manila, filing charges against the military. They are here to clear Grecil's name. They have no money and no lawyer, their children have been scattered for their protection, except for one-year-old Angeline, who clings to her mama and giggles with every beep of a cellular phone. Army Brig. Gen. Carlos Holganza, head of the 101st Infantry Brigade, said at first that he was standing by the report of his men that the "child warrior" was killed in a "legitimate" encounter. "She was seen holding a long firearm," he claimed. "On one hand, she was holding a long firearm; on her other hand, she was holding a mirror. She knows how to handle a long firearm." An M-16 A2 rifle measures 3 feet 4 inches. So did Grecil. Holganza now says that he is inclined to believe that Grecil was not a child-soldier, but he will only apologize if other minor details would be clarified further. That an innocent child was killed is probably a minor detail, too. To date, according to Salinlahi Alliance for Children's Concerns, the death toll of children killed by the military during operations has reached 54. Seventeen children have been tortured, 69 illegally arrested, three raped and 63 beaten. This story is just one of many. Her name was Grecil Buya, and she will always be 9 years old. patricia evangelista</div> <div></div> <div></div> <div></div> <div></div> <div>I am disturb by these story, as an artist, as a woman that gave life. when this violence will end up!  </div> <div>mutya </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1672551 Mon, 23 Apr 2007 23:58 EST I LOVE YOU http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1670526 <div align="center"> I LOVE YOU If i told you i love you i hope you understand, i am mortal i can't reach the stars and moon or swam the pearls at the bottom of oceans if i told you i love you i hope you understand, i am human with simple experienced of my everyday life in times of sadness and confussion i will be with you for better or worst, i wil hold your hand if i told you i love you will stay with me? i am not romantic, i can't assure you that i will not make u cry but in the journry of our life where the heats of the roads and coldness of the night my love will gave you warm. if  i told you i love you please love me with open eyes  my wealth is only knowledge, senses that i learned from others that learned for the love of their country if i told you i love you i wanted you, will you accept me? together of world of whome i am in the world of sadness and happiness  in the world of struggle for equality i love you and i love you can you embrace me without hessitations can you embrace me into my world i love you and i love you!          </div> Personal http://hk.zorpia.com/thefugitive/journal/1670526 Thu, 19 Apr 2007 00:55 EST