A Frightened Love

When I was a child, I didn’t usually hear the phrase “I love you”. Not because my family doesn’t love me, but because it isn’t a trivial way for our household to inflict love using words, but more of actions. But today, I almost wanna shout the words, I almost wanna cry just to let go the emotion that’s eating my whole complex personality[Oh bad! A labyrinthine me!]. I couldn’t fight, I couldn’t even think of ways to ease the pain. I don’t know if I’m making sense, I don’t even know why I’m writing this because I don’t really know if you’ll be able to read this. Maybe I’m just hoping that this could help ease the intensity of my emotions. But to put it in a most forthright sense, I’m not enjoying it. Love isn’t a euphoric feeling. It could only make my life miserable and I know it’s making me weak. I don’t wanna be weak! I don’t wanna be pitied by anyone merely because of my emotions!

So the next questions are “What to do?” and “How can I ease the pain of my emotions?” I’m not really good in interpersonal confrontation. I grew up using arguments to merely fight for my rights. Pointless ways of vicious contempt. Some of these worked for me but didn’t imagine that I couldnt find the courage to use it this time, at this very moment. No wonder people call me a weedy little man. But I know I should deal with my emotion and the only way I could think of, is this. Writing all my feelings and addressing it to you. Yes! This is for you.

You could say that this is quite dramatic and unnecessary, but I simply call it ‘escape’. A genuine way of my personality to deceive my emotions and  a way to let go an intense but unnecessary love. To tell you honestly I was once a master in masking my true emotions, I got my authentic license when I was a child. A license that helped me kill all emotions that can only make me frail. But today it is different, I couldn’t fight my emotions, I couldn’t even find a way out of this irrationality. It’s like a bullet that entered my chest and persisting its existence [I think I still need to work on my figurative words. LOL]. Well, all I really want is to feel good, to feel better and to be freed from my uncontrollable affection. How should I address you in this writing anyway? A person who chatters impertinently or a bird of the crow family with boldly patterened plumage? Well it’s your choice. I just used the safest method of addressing you[Geez! Am I afraid to use your real name?]. We’ve know each other for quite a while now, I can still remember the first time I saw you[Literally ‘noticed’],  you were like a child playing on a flood caused by the deterioration of mankind. A man fallen through a trapdoor of happiness with unending dreams and smile. I wasn’t really affected by your presence at that time, didn’t even bother to ask for your name or why the hell are you growing your hair? After several months we became friends, I even dreamt of becoming your closest friend[Sadly it didn’t happen]. In fact, I mentioned this cheesiness to you before. But to go back to the purpose of this article, I wanna ask if this is just an imagination? Or another way of the world to implict more pain? I think that the glow in your personality made me fall for  you even deeper. All the more surprising is I kept on thinking of your face when I’m lying on my bed and couldn’t find a glimpse of a dreamland. Funny right? Don’t call me obsessed, but a tormented weird person will do. I would like to think that I love you because I need you, but the truth is I love you because I couldn’t find any reason why I love you[Now I’m becoming weird]. That’s what I hate about this emotion, I couldn’t define it and I couldn’t see the endline of this stupidity. I’m not exaggerating but I’m just so tired of it. Tired of being slave of my own emotions. Please pardon the bluntness of my words but help me escape this abyss. Help me find the weapon that could kill my body so sufferings and struggles would disappear. I know we are different, you believe in life while I believe in death. You like being quite while I like talking, you want to be ordinary while I love doing things out of ordinary. Our differences sometimes lead us to unbearable discussion, but still I’m falling. If there’s something we have in common, it is the passion to consistently seek for knowledge. The hunger we feel about the possibilities surrounds us and the desire to be invisible while protecting those we love. I know I could talk to you nonstop for a year or even for a decade.

But to put it in a much easier term, I think I love you. I’m falling but I don’t have the desire to own you. I’m weak and I don’t have the courage to fight for love. I just wanna believe that this emotion could disappear one of the coming days. And if there’s God, I need him to cure me. I need him to show me that love is just a pain, a murderer that could kill either my body or soul.

Tara alis na tayo?

Hindi ko alam kung bakit ko ‘to isinulat, hindi naman siguro para humingi ng simpatya pero gusto ko lang ng makakapitan. Hilig ko naman talaga ang magsulat at dito ko naisip na iukit kasi tagalog 😅 LOL
Tulad ng nakararami, gusto ko na ding umalis. Gusto ko ng lisanin ang institusyon na nag-aruga sa’kin ng halos apat na tao. Can you imagine? 4years samantalang 22 pa lamang ako ngayon, kung tama ang kalkulasyon ko. Nagsimula akong magtrabaho sa kompanyang ‘to noong labing-walong taong gulang pa lamang ako. Sobrang fresh diba? Na halos hindi ko na natapos yung pag-aaral at propesyon na talagang nais ko. Ang dami ko nang pinagdaanan na halos lahat ng emosyon, dito na sa kompanyang ‘to nabuo. Mga tao na tumulong sa paghulma sa kung sino ako ngayon. Pero lately, nakakaramdam ako ng sobra-sobrang kalungkutan. Ang daming dahilan na halos yung iba hindi ko na maarok. Pero ilan sa mga yun ay yung paglisan ng ilan sa mga tunay kong kaibigan, mga tao na nagbigay kulay sa buhay ko sa trabaho. Totoo naman na ‘people come and go’ pero hindi ko maitago yung lungkot na nararamdaman ko sa tuwing iisipin kong wala na sila. Isa pa sa mga dahilan ay ung kawalan ng ‘Challenge and Learnings’ halos pare-pareho na lamang ang ginagawa ko, wala nang kahit na anong takot sa pagkakamali o pakialam sa puna ng ibang tao. Gusto ko ng umalis at subukan yung totoo kong Passion, pero natatakot ako. Natatakot ako sa pagbabago, natatakot ako sa possibilities at natatakot ako sa concept ng ‘Paglisan’. Sobrang arte kung titingnan pero lahat ng ito ay yung totoo kong nararamdaman. Hindi ko alam kung hanggang kailan ko pipiliting manatili, pero sana lang magkaroon ako ng lakas ng loob. Lakas ng loob para lumisan o lakas ng loob para manatili. Sobra akong naiingit sa mga taong ang daling lumisan, mga tao na madaling makatanggap ng pagbabago. Parati kong sinasabi sa sarili ko na “I’m smart enough to accept changes and be flexible to all the things the world will offer” pero hindi pala talaga. Mas mahusay at mas matalino palang talaga yung mga tao sa paligid ko. Dahil ang tunay na katalimuhan ay ang patuloy na pagtanggap at pagyakap sa pagbabago at pagbangon sa kahit na anong kalungkutang dulot ng buhay. Don’t get me wrong, Hindi ko kinaaawaan ang sarili ko, pero ikinalulungkot ko ung kawalan ko ng destinasyon at determinasyon. Mukha siguro akong matapang pero sobrang hina ko. Sobrang weak ng kahit na ano sa aspeto ng buhay ko. Again, hindi ko pa din alam kung aalis na ba ako. Ang dami pang bagay ang nais kong i-consider pero tulad nga ng madalas kong marinig sa Lola ko noong bata pa ako ‘Bahala na si Batman’. Bahala ng makalimutan kong muli itong kalungkutan at maghintay sa mga muling iaahin ng tadhana.

Kolonyal na Edukasyon

Ang kolonyal na sistema ng edukasyon ay patuloy na lumalala at isinusulong. Ang sistemang umiiral ay nilikha upang tugunan ang kinakailangang manggagawa ng mga banyaga. Hindi ito para sa atin o sa kapwa natin Pilipino, at lalong hindi ito para sa sariling pag-unlad ng ating bayan, para ito sa interes ng iba. Para ‘yang pagyayari ng isang produkto na hinulma upang mapakinabangan o ibenta sa iba. Parang papet na walang sariling pag-iisip na sumusunod sa kontrol ng iba. Para rin ‘yang sasakyan na puno ng pasahero ngunit sa maling ruta at destinasyon ang tungo. Napakalinaw na isa itong kataksilan sa sariling bayan.

K-12. Dagdag dalawang taon para saan? Para itaguyod at pagyabungin ang interes ng ibang bayan. Niloloko nyo lang ang mamamayan. Hindi ba’t mas mahalaga na ang punan ay ang pangunahing problema sa edukasyon. Kakulangan ng aklat, kakulangan ng silid-aralan, kakulangan ng upuan, kakulangan ng guro at suliranin sa pasahod ng mga guro. Iyan dapat ang binigyan nyo ng solusyon at hindi ang pagdagdag ng dalawa pang taon sa sekondarya. Nasabi kong hindi ito makatarungan at tutol ako sa K-12 system. Unang punto, dahil ito sa globalisasyon o modernong terminolohiya para sa imperyalismo at kolonyalismo. Sinunod natin ang sistema ng edukasyon sa ibang bansa dahil ito ang iminungkahi nila. Para saan ba ang makabagong sistem? Para sa ating pagunlad o para ito sa kanilang interes? Pangalawang punto, hindi ito makatarungan sapagkat hindi ito naaayos sa bansa natin. Hindi sapat ang paaralan at kagamitan upang matugunan ang dagdag na dalawang taon. Ang K-12 ay pinairal sa kadahilanang para ‘raw’ maging handa ang bawat mag-aaral sa propesyon na nais nilang tahakin o upang maging handa sa desisyong magsimula ng magtrabaho. Ngunit hanggang ngayon walang sapat na istatistika patungkol sa epekto ng K-12, kung ito ba’y nakabubuti o nakabuti sa pahahanap ng trabaho. Marami paring korporasyon at kumpanya ang hindi tumatanggap hanggat hindi nakatungtong ng kolehiyo. At huling punto, pasakit lang ito sa mamamayan. Hindi makatarungan ang dagdag dalawang taon para masabing mas naging matalino at handa ang mga Pilipino. Ang kailangan ay tamang edukasyon at tamang pagbibigay ng pangunahing kailangan lalo sa edukasyon. Dahil ang sistemang K-12 ay isa lamang sa mga paraang ng pagbebenta sa kabataan, hindi para sa ikauunlad ng bayan.

Philippine History. Kasaysayan. Tinanggal ang pag-aaral ng kasaysayan sa hayskul. Kaya pala ang ibang kabataan, nagtataka bakit nakaupo lamang si Mabini sa pelikulang Heneral Luna. Kung nabubuhay si Luna baka sabihin nya’ng, ‘Punyeta’. Gusto n’yo ata talagang baguhin ang kasaysayan, kaya hanggang ngayon ang hindi bayani ay nagiging bayani na. Tandaan natin na mahalaga ang pagpapalawig sa pag-aaral ng kasaysayan. Doon tayo natututo at mas namumulat. O baka naman gusto n’yo rin talagang gawing bulag sa kasaysayan at kasalukuyan ang mamamayan lalo na ang bagong henerasyon.

Philippine Constitution. Konstitusyon. Sa bagong kurikulum sa antas ng kolehiyo ay inalis na rin ito sa kadahilanang naituro na raw ito sa SHS ngunit depende iyon kung anong ‘strand’ ka. Samakatuwid, hindi lahat ng estudyante ay matututunan ang hinggil sa batas at karapatan. Kaya pala wala pa rin silang alam sa pagkakaiba ng ‘search warrant’ at ‘warrant of arrest’. Kaya pala hindi nila alam ang bill of rights, citizenship, national territory at marami pang iba. At ang kaibahan ng iba’t ibang konstitusyon batay sa kasaysayan. Sa kolehiyo ay mas eksperto ang magtuturo, mas kritikal at mas komprehensibo. Hindi ba ito mahalaga? Hindi ba mahalagang matutunan mo ang sibil at pulitikal mong karapatan, ang karapatang pantao? Kaya ka inaabuso at niloloko dahil sa hindi sapat na kamalayan at karunungan.

Philippine Literature & Filipino. Wikang Filipino at Panitikan. Nakakalungkot at nakakagalit na talaga. Sobra na! Ang pag-aaral ng sarili nating wika at panitikan ay aalisin na rin sa kolehiyo. Kung sa ibang wika nga ay hindi na tayo magkaunawaan, sa sariling wika na hindi magkaintindihan, paano na kaya? Baka layon talaga na magkawatakwatak ang sambayanan. Hindi ba’t mas nakakahiya na baluktot ka sa sariling wika kaysa pagiging matatas sa wikang banyaga? Dapat kang mahiya! Bakit ba kailangan mag-aral ng ibang wika? Malinaw na upang ibenta ang kabataan sa pagtugon sa interes ng ibang bansa. Kaya ang ibang lahi ang tingin sa Pilipino ay alipin pa rin. Kaya sarili nating bansa ay hindi pa rin umuunlad. Bakit ang ibang lahi kagaya ng mga Hapon, hindi naman sila bihasa sa ibang wika ngunit progresibo at maunlad ang kanilang bansa. Kayo na ang humusga. Kailanman ay hindi pamantayan ng pag-unlad at katalinuhan ang pagiging matatas sa ibang wika. Kung paulit-ulit ito na inaaral mula elementarya hanggang tersyarya? Hindi ba’t mas dapat kang matuwa? Nakakatuwa sa pagpapalawig ng sariling wika, pagsusulong ng dugong makabayan at nasyonalismo sa bansa. Dagdag pa riyan, kung ang matematika, physics, calculus o iba pang asignatura ay inaaral hanggang kolehiyo; (paumahin sa mga Math major, sana maunwaan nyo ang punto ko patungkol sa kurikilum) bakit hindi ang panitikan at Wikang Filipino? Tanong lang, kapag ikaw ba ay nagtrabaho magagamit mo ang Calculus? Kung Hindi ka naman engineering at nursing student ka. Depende ‘yan sa propesyon na napili mo. Hindi ba’t mas kailangan natin pagyabungin ang komunikasyon at wikang pambansa? Mas naiintidihan natin ang kapwa natin sa sariling wika at hindi sa pagiging magaling sa pagbibilang ng numero, algebra o anumang aritmetika? Siguro mas angkop yan sa isang makina at hindi sa tao. Mas kailangan bang aralin ang kultura at panitikan ng iba? Hindi, datapwat isa iyong pribilehiyo na may matutunan tayong iba. Ngunit hindi ba’t mas kailangang gamutin at pagtuunan ng pansin ang sariling suliranin ng ating lipunan maging sa wika. Nakakahiya ba maging Pilipino? Oo, mas nakakahiya lalo na sa nangyayaring sistema ngayon sa lipunan. Ang tamang edukasyon ang tunay na makakapagpabago ng lipunan at makakapagsulong sa bayan, hindi kolonyal na edukasyon.
Kayong mga nakaupo at namumuno sa iba’t ibang sangay ng gobyerno, kayong mga mahistrado ganyan na ba talaga kayo katalino para pagtaksilan ang sarili bayan? Totoo nga, hindi talaga tayo ganap na malaya. Ang kolonyal na edukasyon ay patuloy na lumalala. Ano po kaya ang dapat idagdag at ibawas? Dagdagan po natin ang pagmamahal sa bayan at kapwa Pilipino at alisin ang kolonyal na kaisipan.

Pilipino ako,
Mahal ko ang Wika ko,
Mahal ko ang Bayan ko,
Mahal ko ang kapwa ko Pilipino,
Kaya may pakialam ako.
-JMR

Pader ko ito, karapatan kong magpahayag ng sarili kong damdamin. Damdamin kong nagpupuyos na sa lungkot, pagkadismaya at galit.

Knitting the Shroud of Death

child

I am dying blind man insignificant to the human race. My reality is wrapped with thick misfortune and long bleakness. I am dying blind and alone. My sincerest compeer is pain because it has accompanied me in all my life; painful night, painful clouds, dark life, dim hopes and solemnly painful life. I am a man who was once a son, a lover, a leader, a dreamer. I have lived my life in that seamless order. Now I am dying blind man. My blindness is not caused by the deterioration of my health but by deterioration of life. I have been blind from happiness for 18 years now and the last thing I saw were the cold corpse of my body killed by the people I loved. This is my story; the story of a blind writer who can only write about what existed almost 2 decades ago because his sight and soul died long before him. The story of a child who has been unparented to a father which was killed by his living. This is my story. A story of God’s forsaken child. I am one of the many.

I have been trying to write about my life but to no avail. Thinking of my past and the memories it created still brings the shiver that’s been embracing me in all the midnight of the past 18 years. My tears have the same taste from my body’s death to my dream’s, and to my soul’s. I kept everything to myself. I had to primarily because there hasn’t been anybody to talk to. I had to beat my soul with every pain and agony because there was nobody else to share my grief with and never anyone to validate my sentiments. Secondly, I always believed that not talking about death and everything that happened would make it less true than it already is. That the moment I say my dreams are dead is be the moment they die. I thought denial of loss and melancholy means validation of life and happiness. Now I realize that no matter how much I hide my grief I am still going to be miserable and the more I collect these pain, the more miserable I become. I have forgotten how it is to dream because every time I try to widen my mind the only pictures it can produce are whimpers and curses. As I have told you, I am but one of the many forsaken people. I lived in a village that was known as the ”Village of God’s forsaken people” because in that place, God did not have angels. In that place God had no ears, in that place God had no love. Whatever despair the world prayed against, the heavens threw over us. Whatever event trembled the Universe, the saints filed for us. Ours was the net that percolated the worst retribution for human sin. But before the series of unfortunate events unfolded, my life was a typical childhood life, with simple happiness and family. There were chirping birds and dancing flowers. I was a fatherless child but with a mother who thought I was the most intelligent child she has ever gave birth. Part of it was true because I was her only child who liked books than to play games outside. You must know that the use of past tense still bothers me. But that is what death of happiness does, it makes everyone just part of history, an immovable part of the past. It isolates everyone in a time that is void of second-chances bound never to happen ever again. I was a weird-nerd child when I was 5. I have been fatherless for 4 years when I met the new husband of my Mom, who was not only catching thief(policeman) but also transporting lives from brightness to darkness. To him, I was the most adorable and cutest child he has ever met. Every time he visits our house, he would always have ‘Pasalubong’ for me. I knew he did those to show good impression, but the act seemed so sincere that it eliminated all annoyance of meeting a new father and disappointment, leaving only an admiration for his determination (But I knew I love my dead father more than any other guy in the world). He courted my Mom for a month, that was equivalent to 30 new books I read. The reason why I initially did not want him to be my new father was that I have never been a good balancer of love and I did not know how to be a good son. But I saw that the days my Mom lived with him was the days the sunset was most beautiful for her. After months of being a husband to my Mom, my mother decided to get a work 450KM away from our house. Leaving her with the only option to visit us once a week. Days passed when my new father picked me up from school. We were traveling home in his car when he held my hand. It wasn’t the first time he held my hands but that was the time I remember most until today. My eyes could have faltered me but my memory remains true. Not sharp, but true. After a moment of pressing my hand while looking alternately at the road and me, we reached our house. The moment I entered our home was the moment I smelled a strong chemical scent, I wasn’t sure if its a home cleaner liquid or paints but I know that there was smoke lingering into my mind. I went directly to my room and there he followed me, he held my hands again and kissed my lips. He was the first person I have ever kissed aside from my Mom. So I did not know how to react and what to do. But I felt his tongue pushing its way to part my lips and he succeeded of course. His tongue was conquering my body, wet and wild. His tired arms hugged me, stroking my back and squeezing my body every now and then. He stopped kissing me in time to close all doors until we both became a silhouette of darkness. I remember.

I remember because that was the most painful emotion and silent cry I have ever had. I asked him with tears ‘if he could stop’ but he held my head with burning eyes and threw my small body on the bed. He kissed me again until I felt his fingers crawling on my tummy to my sensual part. I felt something painful from my head to heart and to my whole body. It was as if all of me couldn’t do anything more, as if my body has became his slave. That moment, he whispered softly that he wanted my small body and I should be his toy forever. His big rough hands were all over my body until I finally felt his fingers leading my hand to his manhood. I looked at him while crying as if I was asking for forgiveness. He held my neck using his strong hand trying to kill my innocent life, he whispered “I want you and I will kill you!”, and that day he made himself satisfied using my 5 years old body and my innocent mind.

Nobody knew that the beautiful sunset outside our house was a bad omen for me and that the day he abused my body was just the beginning of my suffering. Who would have known that my life would be just that, a series of of pain and bruises? That night, the rain was pouring heavily. Words from my stepfather informed me that my Mom is coming. I was preparing to tell my Mom what happened to me for a week while she was gone, the things that caused the bruises and wounds on my body. I was shaking because, although my evil Stepfather warned me never to tell anything to anyone, I was still determined to tell everything to my Mom. But I never expected that it would also be the night my happiness and love for the world would disappear. I never expected my Mom to ignore my tears and pain, I never expected her to just say “It’s okay anak, your Tito is a good man and I love him” after hearing my painful stories. I found again my body in his arms the next day, carried by the same pain that killed my childhood and dreams. There was my body, lying on the bed, there were blood, there was wounds all over my body, there was a child’s body without life. I was wearing nothing but blood, because he was using my body as an ashtray for his cigarettes, he was beating me, he was using my back as a mounting when ironing his clothes, he was punching me every time he has taken his drugs, he used my body and he killed me. I remember crying, kneeling, shouting, and asking for his pity. I remember shouting for the help of God. I remember crying and more crying. Then there was darkness. The sun never shined on me, days, weeks, and months passed by cruelly to give me more pain. For almost one year, I struggled to live and had pain and sorrow as my happiness. I had to ask myself to hold on and enjoy the pain. I stayed at home while he was with me. In our broken home with my broken life. I had to brave myself from pain or I lose in life. I continued to be a battered child for a year until the family members of my dead father discovered the things that was happening to me. It was like a roller coaster ride because I was almost killed by the evil’s gun, but at the end he was captured and sent to jail for life imprisonment. After the tragedy I became the talk of the town, the subject of everyone’s story, and I became an unfortunate fatherless child pitied by everyone. I never saw my stepfather again and I never wanna see him again.

I grew up fighting for life, I grew up fighting with the painful memories I had. And education became my only companion, if there’s one thing that I am proud of because of the painful memories, it was the medals and trophies hanged on our house. It was the education I earned from school and the intelligence I earned because of pain. When I was released from the hands of the devil. I became more pious. Prayer became my only desperate act to live. It became more than a personal affinity with God; I began to thank him for letting me feel the most painful thing a child could have ever experienced and for sparing me from cruelty after a year of burden.

I wanted to see myself alive. That was just what I wanted. I prayed everyday and did my devotions. I went to Pastoral school for 2 years alongside my prelaw school. I had a relationship with someone and I fell in love. But something is still missing, memories of the past is still killing me. Are my prayers not enough? Are my devotions not enough? Is my love not enough? And at the moment, I realized that I will never be happy, I would never see the beauty of the world again, because I died long before I knew I was dead. I died when I was 5 and the child who rose from pain was just an imagination, a memory of pain and sorrow. At the age of 18, I left my Christian church. I can still remember that it was a day of cold wind blowing to my face and the tears from my eyes were running endlessly. I kissed the cold corpse of my dreams and happiness, dreams and happiness, dreams then happiness, then happiness then dreams. I kissed them separately, I hugged my dreams and happiness tightly and on that awfully cold day, I parted with my breathless dreams, faith and happiness.

I have lived another four years to remember how cruel my life was and my life is. I have lived another four years to write about the pain from the past. I have never known what kept me alive in spite of the pain, in spite of the suffering, in spite of the anger. I have never prayed to God to lengthen my life after the death of my dreams and happiness. If truth be told, I have never prayed to God after I left the Christian world. But He has a sadistic way of inflicting me more pain; he kept me alive for miserable years falling for someone who would never care for me while I drown in the memories of my childhood. It is the years that killed me, it is the living that defeated me, not dying.

Today, I am already blind. The life blinded me but it did not kill me, it can never kill me again, because I already died 18 years ago. Deep within this body is hollow soul. Punch me and I will not wince, cut me and I will not bleed, kill me and I will not die. For the last four years, I have isolated myself from happiness and recuperation because unlike Job, I will not accept concessions for what was taken away from me. If these were a test from heaven, let it be that way but I will not yield. If tomorrow, after I have carved all my sentiments to the world, God will return everything I have lost when I was a child three-fold, I will gather them in my mind and burn them with it until the smoke has ascended to heaven were they are to be kept by Him. If you are even pensive as to the intention of God in doing this to me, then know that I was curious too. But such knowledge is no longer essential to me. What I have only learned is that Heaven’s greatest assassin is the world it has created. Anything in this world can be a murderer like a venomous snake and will poison either your body or your soul.

Last night I saw love knocking on my door. I told love to spare me and just take my body when I can no longer write this story, but this story is done. And so, when love shall come back tonight to take me, it shall find me sitting beside the window. Blind man facing the world while knitting the shroud that will cover his dead body. A man without dreams, happiness and love.

Aleph Alpha Naught Naught One!

Sa Wakas ng Bawat Alaala

Patuloy sa pagpatay-sindi ang dagitab sa ilalim ng maramot na ilaw ng Mayari. Waring marupok na mananakop ngunit isang pantas. Pantas na nais sakupin ang ligaya at mag-iwan ng tibatib sa utak na parati ng marumi. Ito na marahil ang isa sa mga gabi at araw na hindi ko kailanman kalulugdan. Ang araw na bumubulong ng mga mapapait kong lihim at nakaraan. Ngunit ito ‘din ang unang araw na mas pinili kong sumulat. Araw na kinalimutan kong lumuha at mas piniling tahimik na humawak ng tinta at kwaderno. Ito na nga ang araw na patuloy ng lumulupig sa aking pagkatao, dahil ngayon ay iyong kaarawan at ang araw na parati mong ipinagdiriwang na hawak ang aking katawan. Salamat dahil ang lahat ng pagdiriwang ay alala na lamang, mga alalang patuloy na bumabalik noong mga panahong ako’y musmos pa lamag. Nakakat’wa dahil hindi ko inakalang wala ng luhang dumadaloy habang iniisip kita. Simula noong biniyayaan mo ako ng mga pilat hanggang sa mga araw na magkatabi tayong natutulog sa masikip nating higaan. Ngunit sa bawat ala-alang sa aki’y nanunumbalik, ganun na lamang din ang bilang ng bawat sakit. Pagdurusa dahil sa mga panahong mas pinili kong maging musmos, mga panahon na nakilala kita at hinayaang bumuo ng magulo at masalimuot kong buhay.

I hate myself for being a child. I hate myself for letting you hurt me when I wasn’t aware what is “pain”. You aren’t a human because I can no longer think of you as one. You’re no longer living because I already killed you in my dreams[and I always will]. But just like you, I can no longer consider myself as a human, because you killed me. You left me because you needed me, and I’m dying because of your memories.

     Now, I wish I did not meet you, I wish i did not become a child, I wish you did not exist at all, because I’m dying. I’m dying while remembering your touch and I’m dying remembering you.

Maging maramot ka! Maging maramot ka nawa sa mga alaala. Dahil ayoko ng muli pang masaktan at ayoko ng muli pang bumalik sa nakaraan.

 

– Marlboro Black and your Regatta (Sa Wakas)

ACTS – An Open Letter on your Birthday! :)

First of all I want you to know that I like your birthday more than you because I feel like it’s wholly dedicated to the fact of your reality. And I think that I’m one of the people who wholeheartedly appreciate it [Syempre kasama sila ‘Tin, Rhea, Bern, and your family and your ALDUB Family! Charity! LOL J]. There are a million reasons why, but lemme state few using the ACTS pattern.

ACTS – This isn’t a prayer for your birthday but a steering wheel that would make you realize the goodness inside you and the goodness you shared to the people surrounds you.

A- Big 20! Another candle would be added on your cake, another year of blessings and a year of laughter and fun, blessing of memories which you could hang on the wall of beautiful life. But for the 20 years of your existence you have already become who you’re supposed to be. Your voice can speak louder than the purity of faith [I could talk to you for hours and never get tired. Your trimming derision can make me realize some of the most important things in life], your hands are the instruments that could be used to share the blessings of happiness [Your positive attitude about life inspires me every day to be a better person], your ears are the foundation of understanding and truth [You always tell me what I need to hear, not what I want to hear and you can appreciate my voice not for what I say but in a deeper level], your smiles are the reasons why it’s always good to wake up every day, and your heart is the evidence of God’s goodness. You are who you are and you are who you’re supposed to be. You’re on track Aki!

C- The first time I saw you, I thought of you as someone who’s not interested in the shallowness of the world, just like another usual person living merely because that’s what norm dictates. Among the fields of diamond, stone, and gold, I thought of you as someone who would always say “I don’t care”. A not so very special guy with a brain that could die in a mere strike of “Hey there nothing” from a genius. But you brought me in the midst of “mistakes” and showed the whole true picture of you, and from there I became thankful.

T- Thanks for everything! I’ve completely opened up my life to you; everything about my painful past and my current feelings and situation is no longer a secret. You taught me so much in this life and you helped me discover so much about myself. Before you came into my life, I feel like my whole life was a living pain and I didn’t need anyone to help me understand my surroundings. Living day by day thinking what else I could do to make my life meaningful than death. But you came; you made me believe that pains from the past are fuels that could help me be a better person today. You made me realize that no matter how painful the world could be there’s always someone who could help me look for happiness. Your presence forced me to appreciate all angles in life whether straight, right, acute or obtuse. You taught me how to open the true me. You changed me from someone who never cared to share true feelings, ideas, dreams, and sorrows to someone who could appreciate even the blow of the winds. You changed my promises, my pledge and vows; you made it the “present” and taught me how to be happy from it. You helped me find true friends from blue, you helped me become me, you helped me become you, and you helped me become anyone else.

S- Never be the Jack of all trades, but be the Jack of many. Stay as a person I could count on when something’s bothering me, because I know that you could sort things out and make everything seems alright. Continue spreading smiles and happiness, but please stop frustrating me. Stop giving me frustration whenever you’re saying you’re not good enough and you’re not smart enough, you know and I know that it isn’t true because you are the best! Continue to achieve your dreams, study hard because that would make me the happiest. Never stop dreaming and never stop smiling. Your smiles could be someone’s happiness so be unapologetic and smile, smile and smile 🙂 Happy 20th Birthday Jack and I give thanks to the day I met you. Always be happy because Life should be spelled as H.A.P.P.I.N.E.S.S
Again Happy Birthday and Long Live the Jack of Many! 🙂

He’s a Working Student? And he Rocks!

Education is one of the most important factors in unlocking a golden door in the future, it is a way of building bridges for a better tomorrow. Education is something we should go after all the time, it is something we must seek for at all times in every way we can. Why? because the life of God that lives within us demands that we should become better tomorrow than who we are today. But nowadays getting a higher education could be expensive, university fees, lab fees, transportation and all other expenses, because money is becoming a driving force for the journey of learning. These are some of reasons why many students are quitting the academe. But just like an old proverb says “The only thing that is more expensive than education is ignorance”. There are several ways of continuing studies, ways that can be a burden today but can be fruitful someday. One of those is working alongside studies. Some students are weighting this option, struggling to decide whether or not to work while studying. Questions like “Should I become a working student?”, “Should I focus more on my classes so I could get an A+”, and so much more. Questions which should be considered to get away a demean life. But why not do both? Study hard while working hard? There may be disputes for this way of thinking, like difficulties in managing time, lack of sleep and possibilities of a longer time in the academe. While these can be good arguments not to contemplate the “Working student” option, it is still an undeniable fact that finishing a degree with the help of being a working student is something that we could be proud of, pride that would help us value education and whatever lies beyond further on. Time? It could be a struggle today, but that struggle will definitely develop a knowledge and power that you’ll be needing in the future. Time shouldn’t be a reason to quit dreaming and working for success because knowing our goal is knowing what to put on our priority list.

There are several good effects of being a working student, some of them includes extra money, learning how to spend money wisely(budgeting), knowing how to manage time and experiences(Nothing beats experiences!). It would be more beautiful to enhance skills and learn work disciplines early, which would be more beneficial after the school life. Having a job while studying is a great way to improve resume and get ahead of the competition. But above anything else, it would be a learning on how to better value “tomorrow”, because diploma will lead us to a path where we belong.

“Quit your job or quit studying, you’re using your time ineffectively!” -Nobody

Quitting shouldn’t be an option, so Hey! continue your dream yesterday, today and tomorrow, because you rock! 😁