An Open Letter To ()

*This discussion came up after reading Angels and Demons by Dan Brown. And when I said I died – in a different sense

destiny – (dě’stǐny)

n. predetermine events; power that foreordains, invincible necessity

predestination – (préděstǐnā’tion)

n. God’s appointment from eternity of some of mankind o salvation and eternal life; God’s foreordaining of all that comes to pass; fate, destiny

existential – (ěxǐstě’ntial) (ěgz- ; -shal)

– a. of or relating to existence; (Logic, of a proposition) predicating existence; (Philos.) concerned with existence, esp. with human existence as viewed by existentialism; hence ~ly2

Existentialism – (ěgz- ; -shal-)

n. philosophical theory emphasizing existence of the individual person as free and responsible agent determining his own development; hence ~ist

source: Oxford Dictionary

Well, actually, you make perfect sense – except that it’s kinda contradicting. You said that you believe in predestination – which is, accdng. to Oxford, God’s foreordaining of all that comes to pass, and you’re an existentialist – from existentialism which is a philosophical theory emphasizing existence of the individual person as free and responsible agent determining his own dev’t. It’s a huge, HUGE, that is, contradiction. Which is which? You can’t actually believe someone can believe in predestination and at the same time believe in existentialism, yo.

But, as I’ve said previously, each has her own perspective. We read things the way see it. We see things the way we wanna see it. And for me, I still believe that destination is a matter of choice. Yes, it’s amazing to know/think that we are all part of a big book but it is a whole lot more amazing if we know that we are the ones filling up the chapters of that book. Isn’t it? {But don’t get me wrong, I acknowledge the existence of God’s Master Plan. But some of us just don’t wanna be part of that Master Plan and those are the people who go astray. Me, I wanna be part of that plan. But I still believe that we are the ones filling up those pages. God has made us a template to follow; we can still modify it – though, not too extreme. Like, there exists a sorta outline that we follow and we modify ‘em so they have a paragraph form. Modify in a sense that is still acceptable in the eyes of God.}

Well, you call me kiddo. And yes, I’m still a kid. Maybe that’s just how a kid sees it and a mature mind sees it differently.

Life’s own misery, eh? Life won’t be miserable if you won’t make it one. Life can always be good if you chose it to be. Anyway, it’s your choice.

And, yeah, HE leads the way if you wan Him to. Yeah, true. Also true that He can only lead if you let go and let Him |steer|. Right?

[In every rule, there is always an exception. You have no choice but to accept the fact that we can never erase death. (the literal one)]

Sick joke: Oprah Winfrey, dead

Check this link…

Oprahdeath’s Weblog

It’s a joke right?! From one of those people who’s got nothing in their lives – one of those death hoaxes. A lot of ’em’s been ’round the internet these days. They can just get old sometimes.

So far, I’ve got no confirmation yet. Some people who added comments made screenshots of the new being posted at BBC. I tried their link in the screenshot but the page seemed like a made-up one. I tried to search the BBC website but found none similar. dismissed it as just some rumor.

Well, anyway, it doesn’t sound so true. Oprah’s just one of those poor victims of death hoaxes. If she’s actually dead, the world would have known, like, immediately. She’s one big person and the world knows her.

Too bad for her.

Here are some pages I found using GoogleSearch:








Last night was one of those I-don’t-know-how-to-define nights


It’s just that… I really don’t know how to say what I want to say.

Talkin’ ’bout nothing in particular? It sounds like nothing or some nonsense but it did make sense for me. Somehow.

Stuff were brought out. Tears? Yeah. Thing is, I halted someone from continuing whatever she was talkin’ ’bout ’cause I didn’t wanna cry like hell.

This one got mentioned: something about hating death. (Deal with some grammar errors and typos. I’ve got my issues that time.)

Well, anyway, we went home past ten p.m. but I didn’t care about the time. I just don’t know why. We started talkin’ at about 7p.m. Whatever.

One more thing – we did not have supper.