madam Cory Aquino

Faye Hazel R. Douglass mrs. Cathy Rivera
Epistemology

The enigma that is Cory Aquino

I was born on july 26, 1990, four years after the bloodless people’s power revolt by the Filipino people against a ruthless dictator who was entrenched in power for twenty years who ruled through the barrel of a gun through his infamous Martial Law.
The Filipinos are used to being oppressed and manacled for centuries. That started with the Spanish colonizers who enslaved the country for more that 300 years until the Filipinos started to revolt and had Jose Rizal as the rallying paint. Then, the country was granted it’s independence on july 12, 1890- two years after Rizal’s death.
Shortly after, the country was again colonized by the Americans- from 1911 to 1946 which was shortly after the end of world war II. And then after that, the Japanese came and violated all human rights without question, again, from the barrel of a gun and through the use of technology.
Up until the present day, Filipinos continue to struggle for equality, education and peace- a system cory Aquino aimed for.

Cory was born on January 25, 1933 to a brood of 8. She had always considered herself to be insignificant which propelled her to excel academically. Her family had always been wealthy and politically influenced.
In 1946, the family left for the U.S. and cory studied high school in Ravenhill Academy in Philadelphia then at Notre Dame convent school in New York where she finished high school. She graduated at the college of Mount Saint Vincent in New York- majoring in math and French.
In 1953, she came back to the Philippines and enrolled at Far Eastern University for a Law degree but as fate would have it, met the dashing Ninoy Aquino. They both got married and had 5 children. All her married years, cory stayed in the background, supporting the political career of her husband and taking care of her family until one day, the dictator Ferdinand Marcos declared Martial Law on sept. 21, 1972 and ordered the arrest of his opponents, including people from the media, closed down all TV and radio stations, suspended all civil liberties of the people including the writ of habeas corpus (human rights).
Ninoy was imprisoned for seven years and seven months. All this time, cory and her children did not waver, did not beg marcos to free her husband. She had to be a strong person, both for her family and the country. She was a person of deep faith and conviction. Somehow, she was strengthened by the furnace of the war- and this is where marcos was mistaken when he dismissed her by saying, “she is just a woman”.
But this woman became the rallying point of the bloodless revolt of Febuary 1986- using not guns but people power that was occupied and emulated by the other nations around the world namely: Haiti, Germany and Russia. Eventually, Thailand followed the same example.
Now that she’s dead, she cannot be forgotten. She left us a legacy of honesty, love, sacrifice and patriotism beyond measure. She gave her all for us to experience the democracy we experience now.

Hannah Arendt explains that violence is only existent for as long as there are implements or instruments. During the Martial Law, the only thing which kept Marcos in his seat were the people around him. He used violence as an instrument to organize the people which for arendt was the entire point of violence. But the abuse of violence became the ultimate striking point of the Filipinos.
The common misconception of the Marcos presidency was not that he was powerful, he was just purely violent. He used everything and everyone to his advantage with clear disregard to those who would suffer the consequence.
Power for Arendt was measured by number, as in the case of the peaceful war which was the People Power or commonly known as EDSA I. people came together from all parts of the country to step out and step up against a corrupt leader. People in the government, again for arendt, are not powerful people, rather, they are empowered people. They are empowered by the people who vote for them, by the law which states their obligations and human rights which remind them of what not to do. And also, the government is made for the people, by the people and is with the people no matter what situation.
However, during the Marcos presidency, good governance was not followed. Confucius’ wise words about the superior man and the right leader were ignored all for two things: greed and vanity.
Cory, the first woman president took into her hands and heart and decided to do something for the people. And the best thing about her was not that she became a symbol of Philippine Feminism, but that she never ever claimed to beat the apathetic leader which was Marcos single handedly. Instead, she pushed everyone to grab what they had always deserved, and that was a just and humane society.

During her presidency, she did nothing but revise the constitution which became the 1987 constitution of the Philippines. She made sure that the constitution was not to any person’s advantage, but that it made equality evident.

Cory’s greatest legacy to the Filipinos was and is that she tried to unite the Philippines when she was still alive, now, we are united in grief and gratefulness. She was the best example of the vision of an Atenean- man and woman for others.

uninspiring

either i have been just too lazy, or that i have ceased to see anything worth debatable. in the past few days, i could see myself getting less and less caring. i didn't mind at all what happened around me. my excuse was just being grateful. partially; it is true.



although facebook has been a rather addictive website, i maintain to see the flaws of my friends which have been really evident. the reason for this is that they answer quizzes that have results which are either scripted or shallow. they not only answer these quizzes, but they choose top 5 whatever it is they think of. and i'm not going to deny, i've had my fair share of meaningless fun too.



i was very disturbed at what my friend did. she chose top 5 bodyguards. one of them was chace crawford from gossip girl who played the role of a class whore. it was understandable because he does seem a bit tough enough to beat up a flower. but aside from that, i wouldn't mind him being my bodyguard.



but it was the others which she chose that made it seem as though all the years of her book reading has been put to waste. she chose two people: zac efron and professor dumbledore. it was okay but it came to the point that in really made me think. what the hell is zac efron going to do?



she chose a fictional character and a guy who's too gay to be gay and too straight to be straight. although professor dumbledore has been the greatest and most powerful wizard in the harry potter books, but he remains only existent in the minds of his readers. and magic is not real. there's only technology.



it didn't amuse me at all. it was as though she had given up all her sanity and traded it for boys over flowers (a korean telenovela). to my surprise, there are many who have chosen the same choice. it seems to me that they confuse humor with stupidity. i mean... why the hell would you choose zac efron? what is he going to do? sing to her enemies until they die of boredom?



but after all that, she chose another top 5 which made me think twice on putting her on my dumb list. she chose "top 5 things that cheer me up". her choices were very simple, yet one was a choice i have not seen from anyone yet.



her first choice was ice cream. it made me smile because it was and still is one of the things that cheer me up. it's very cold and comforting. it is a wild contrast to the hot and burning sensation of pain and disappointment.



but her second choice made me think either she was out to impress, or that it was a very wise choice. i believe that God would have opened his gates earlier and wider for her when she chose prayer.



i could not fathom what she meant, i just understood what she wanted to say. and it gave me a very new perspective not only towards her, but to the people i like to pick on in my mind. unknown to her, i laugh at her maniacally in my mind. i ridicule her ways while keeping it all safe within the compartments of my imagination. well, i know... that's mean.





when i came to turn the table around, i realized how much i am not like her. of course i would forget about God. but for someone like her to remember that must have took much courage.

the thing with us right now is that we would choose not to think because it is a stress-provider. people avoid each other because some people are deep and wise while some are shallow and materialistic. i don't know whether what started this fad, but it has become rather annoying.

although i am in no position to say whatever it is i am thinking of, but it is really amazing how people forget about things that are really important. and i don't know whether there is something i can do to fix this dilemma. but i'm certain that my friend has began in her little ways.

happy birthday blog

tossing and turning in my bed, i found myself stuck in between wanting to sleep and the inability to do so. it was not because of my excitement because it would be my birthday in just a few hours nor was it because i had a person on my mind. i was just in a point when i didn't know why i was still awake. and the worst part is that, a song just kept ringing incessantly in my ear.

these were the only a few lines i could not stop hearing from the song: not drunk enough by adele:

"'cuz you and me, we're through"
"even when i had too much, i still feel your touch"
"i want to see you, but i don't want you to see me"

during the months of january and february, it couldn't have been anything less than hell. it was a time of great depression, a desperate call for sanity, and it was the first time in my life when i was walking on the line between sanity and irrationality. it was a time my heart was shattered into a billion, miniscule pieces.

but then, when march came and the cause of my dementia did not come back, i decided to move one with whatever little i had left. i had failed in almost all my subjects. i lost all interest in even eating and sleeping. going on the net and surfing was a great torture. the only thing i could feel like doing was drinking. i thought it would help me erase, at least for a moment, the memory he managed to carve inside my mind. but then i realized that nobody was going to help me move on unless i decide to do it myself. he wasn't coming back even if i killed myself. that was a fact i had to face.

upon looking back, i realized that a great deal about me has changed. besides habit-wise, i found myself to be a bit more grateful than the old self. for one, i won't have to deal with any more heart aches from constantly being accused of infidelity. i won't have anything holding me back when i want to read a book or go to the mall. i won't have to be constantly aware of what i have to say in fear that it might disappoint someone. i won't have to beat up my brains just to understand a boy whose vocabulary is only 20 words. i won't have to feel betrayed or insulted when he makes me the laughing stock. and i certainly won't have to throw away my dream of going to the states just because some "boy" will feel hurt.

i've got two words for boys who do that: "damn you"

when a man loves a woman, he won't hold her back from anything she puts her mind to. instead, he steps up and helps her accomplish whatever it is she feels is right for her even if it means to remove himself from the picture. but when a boy loves a woman... that is a whole other scenario.

the reason why i related my ex with my birthday is because he managed to ruin my last birthday and i still forgave him for that. and right now that i'm turning 19, i am truly saying goodbye to his memory.

right now? i don't know whether the relationship i am in is going to work out or not. i'm not even sure if he's "the one" or not. but i'm certain of one thing, as of this moment, he loves me like a man should. and for that, i am forever grateful.

i am grateful because as early as now, i have found my true friends. i came to this realization when i walked down memory lane with a friend. we talked about her best friends and their monotonous lives while she and i dealt with the change in our lives and appreciated the imperfections in life. although i doubt whether she agreed with the thought when i called her friends stupid, i have to say i am grateful for them anyway.

without stupid people, i would never be aware of what i want to achieve in life. i would never be able to know what i want to become and what i don't want to become. i certainly like being adored, but if it means to risk my intellect just to be appreciated well then, no thanks. i'd rather be hated for who i am than being loved for who i am not.

trying to count my blessings is one of the hardest things for me to do. i don't know exactly when i started feeling satisfied when i felt sorry for myself, but i'm pretty sure i've gone past that now. i'm just so tired of being angry all the time. it's like waiting for rain in the middle of a drought: useless and disappointing. from that, i must lift myself and turn away from the draining emotions. i must change.

to change perhaps, like what the great Sartre has repeated in his books, is a choice. to move on or to stay behind, to love or to not love, to be surrounded or to be alone is a matter of perspective ultimately lead by a decision. the grounds for that choice however is also a choice.

everyone knows that there are two places where a woman thinks. half her mind is up in her head where she calculates, meditates and rationalizes everything. the other part is her heart where she keeps love, hurt, passion, lust and curiousity. for boys, it is not exactly the same thing.

half their brain is in their head for the same purpose as women. but the other half of their mind is stuck with their penis. graphic, but true... i declare it to be true. that is the reason why sometimes men and women understand each other while other times they don't. but when a boy knows when to departmentalize his thirst for sexual activity and knows his responsibility, then he becomes a man.

i'm just so grateful for the changes in my life. i'm glad because God took away everything from me so i could realize that he's what i need after all. he stripped everything off of me. he stripped away the love of my life because i was headed for a huge mistake i would regret years later. he stripped away my friends who were not intellectually stimulating because i would not become a better person with them. he stripped away my sanity to make me realize how far i have derailed myself from the actual, correct path. he stripped away my intelligence to help me realize that i cannot do things on my own. i need him.

and for that... i just can't believe i'm turning nineteen in the next hour. i just can't believe that i'm still alive. after how many accidents i've survived, how many sins i have committed, how many times i've hurt others, God still gave me another year. for sure, he gave it to me because he wants me to undo the things i have done. if not that, he wants me to do the things no other person will dare to do.

superiority vs. inferiority

Faye Hazel R. Douglass
Chinese Philosophy A

“Confucius and the superior man”
During the time of Confucius, men and women were driven in fear of foreign invasion, poverty and confusion. Confucius and other Chinese philosophers sphere headed the philosophy of the Chinese. They initiated education instead of war.

For Confucius, as well as the Chinese, the superior man was not a question whether he was physically well and popular. For them, the superior man is a gentleman. His outlook on life is not a matter of whether people see how great he is, but that he acts and responds without fear of being left invisible.

“wealth and honor are what every man desires. But if they have been obtained in violation of moral principles, they must not be kept”1 Says Confucius in his analects. The goal of the Chinese was not that they had to get insanely popular. Their goal was to create harmony with nature, with superiors and with themselves. For them, money should never come first. It did not matter for them what man’s work was for as long as he did it with honor, dignity and passion. That would make the superior man.

“the superior man wants to be slow in words but diligent in action”2 says Confucius. In modern English terms, “words without actions are nothing”. Actions are more important especially if they lead to the betterment of others. The superior man is not like a peacock. The peacock has so many beautiful colors on its tail, but barely does anything. Man should not talk more about things; he should work or as Americans say, “walk the walk”.

“the superior man is dignified but not proud; the inferior man is proud but not dignified”3 . Dignified is different from proud. Dignified is an honor given by the people around him while pride is something self-given. Dignity for Confucius meant that the superior man did not need any self-recognition to accomplish anything. But the inferior man is proud because he constantly needs appreciation even if he’s the only one giving it to himself. For Confucius, being proud is not what a great man should do simply because it is only, “all in a day’s work”. A supplementary to this quote is when he said, “the superior man seeks (room for improvement or occasion to blame) in himself; the inferior man seeks it in others.”4

The superior man however is not just himself against the world. He is a respectful man thus gaining respect. In modern European language, there is a saying that says, “respect can never be demanded. It is given only if man deserves it”. The superior man concentrates on not gaining respect for himself only, but he concentrates on respecting others. He diligently examines himself on how to continually help others progress and incessantly tries to make harmony. If the superior man does not have harmony within his situation, he simply bends with it.

The Chinese have the principle also and they call it “the wise bamboo.” One of the reasons is that the bamboo bends whenever there is a great wind or storm but remains intact. It is constantly used for houses and irrigation systems, but it remains strong and elegant. For the Chinese, the superior man must be like the bamboo. It bends so that it won’t break.

In comparison to this, other trees fall down whenever there is a great storm. It tries to remain proud in its roots but becomes ultimately nothing whenever there is pressure or whenever nobody tends it while the bamboo lives on without man cultivating it or planting it. And the superior man is always like a bamboo. He does not need other people constantly reminding him of his greatness, but that he remains humble. In his fortune of earning wisdom, he becomes more and more humble. The inferior man however is like what Americans say, “Empty cans make a lot of noise”. They make all the fuss in the world because there is actually nothing to show.

I have read a few years ago in psychology that the inferior man likes to brag so much because there is something he wants to hide. It is often compared to making a pot. The potter would make the pot so magnificent but often times ignore the holes underneath it. The holes let the water leak through it and eventually become worthless. But the superior man is not like that. Although the superior man has imperfections, he maintains to not let it weaken his purpose for living or he makes it so that his imperfections are to his advantage.

The superior man for many Chinese philosophers is not materialistic or apathetic. He is a gentle man; a man worthy of respect. He goes on living his life and is remembered when he dies. But the superior man is even greater than that. He does his acts not because he wants to be remembered. He is not concerned about being known to many, but he is concerned about knowing a lot of people so he could help them and provide wisdom.

why i love wisdom

in the present situation, calculative thinking for Martin Heidegger is mostly used because it gives an almost immediate reward. he writes this in his memorial address where he mentioned the different kinds of thinking and why neither is more important, but rather both are complimentary to each other. for Heidegger, reflective thinking is crucial for man to become a grounded being. without grounds, man-like a plant- will wither within the slightest pressure of circumstance.

for sartre, freedom is not dependable on situation- regardless whether it is bad or good- but rather the latter is a product of freedom. this idea is often reiterated in ethics. because man is free, he has to make a choice. choice is a manifestation of both reason and freedom because an act always has to have an ultimate rational ground. if not, this action is merely a reaction, not a response.

in epistemology, ignorance is defined as "the absence of knowledge from a thing that is capable of possessing it." this term however is different from nescience or, the absence of knowledge from a thing that is not supposed to possess it." man cannot be a nescient being because he has the peculiarity of having reason. man is capable of thinking whether he tries to or not.


but among all these, philosophy explains love, freedom, self-determination, proper acting, proper thinking and reason. whenever a man tries not to think, the thinking about not thinking itself is a thought composed and grounded on a determined action.

but honestly, philosophy is a course that may not be studied as a proper subject. wisdom is not earned by how many degrees on has earned or the amount of awards one has recieved. but the fact is that wisdom is earned by humility and incessant self-deliberation and reflection. without each, one will never achieve wisdom.

i have noticed for some time that there have been many professors who forget that they are symbols of education and hope. some, rub their masters degree in the faces of the students who try to question their authority (or often times their grades). some, smoke right outside the premises of the school where every student can see them and that the school is an environment friendly academy. needless to say, it hasn't been exactly the ideal actions of a teacher.

more events have entered the school without our eyes touching the surface of the matter. the xavier scandal (featuring the engineering comfort room), the katrina-hayden scandal, the secret drinking sessions in stc building, the public display of affection behind the chapel, the seemingly uneducated students screaming inside the chapel are only few of the real atrocities happening daily.

for more than three years, every student has either not cared about these issues or cared a bit or cared too much about it. those who do not care about these incidents focus on their studies because it is what is reasonably important. those who care a bit about it keep the gossip alive. those who care too much about it either create a barrier to prevent students from seeing the reality of the situation or motivate students to be better than the danger that lies within the realm of truth.

to prevent the truth from coming out will only increase its production because of the power of curiosity. man has the capability to find ways around things. as a friend told me, "ang kanding gani na gi hiktan kai makabuhi, kana pa kahang tao na walay hikot". much to my surprise, this still applies to many schools and many young people.

all these are products of undeliberated actions. without thought, or even rethinking of actions, they will all lead to a dark directions. actions should not be grounded on feelings because feelings change. and change is always constant. but with a reason and with reason, there is a consistency and a correct path. there is nothing permanent in this world. anything permanent is a product of deception by the senses. but to think beyond these will lead us to a better, more stable future. without reason, there is no point in living a life at all.

how we should act is a matter of choice. choice is a by-product of freedom. but freedom is not to do whatever it is that is wanted by man. freedom is always accompanied by responsibility and constant reminder that others too are free. others are free to question, to breathe, to choose, to believe, to be silent, to escape, to not be tempted, to be a true person. and others should recognize this and not tempt themselves of not caring about what others will feel. for as long as we are living in a society, other people will forever affect our decisions. our task now is not to ignore their influence, but we must constantly recognize this in order to free ourselves from it.

silence is my sanctuary

just yesterday... and a bit today... i was silent. i only responded to questions which needed words. but to the rest, i just kept quiet and nodded. i sat there on my seat... feeling so sorry for myself.

well. it was really about st. bernard and st. eloise. i was so moved by their story but not so much on the love... but on the sacrifice. on any day... i'd betray God for any risky relationship. even on occassions when i know that it wouldn't work, i left God for men. and honestly, they never made me feel less emptier. but past will always be the past.

but yesterday... right after the story was relayed, i felt quiet and felt a divine presence. it was sort of what thomas aquinas experienced right before his death. the silence was very disturbingly peaceful. i was laughing so hard at my friend's response to the teacher, but after the laughter faded, i felt... silence.

it was simply wierd because i have always been noisy to the point that i annoy people. but yesterday was the first time that words became so useless. i felt a sorrow within my soul. it was as if i was mourning over something i lost. but it was so peaceful. i would speak, but it felt as though what i said became a blur. i spoke nothing... i could think of nothing to say. i just smiled to whoever called me but aside from that, kept myself in an isolated contemplation.

my friends made fun of me because they thought i was going to die just like aquinas did. i just remained smiling and kept myself seated. even when we prayed before the class, my words couldn't be heard. it was as if i became so empty that i became a soul-less person. i felt like a zombie.

everything around me became shallow and inconsistent. everything was insignificant. i wanted to be alone for a few moments. nobody would understand why... and to tell you honestly... neither could i. i just wanted to be quiet and enjoy the silence because that was when i realized... i had no true friends. and that... was my reason why i felt unpassionate with my course.

i walked alone through out the day without anyone asking me, "are you okay?" but even if they did, i wouldn't know what to answer. i just wanted to hear everyone, listen to them talk. i didn't want to talk at all.

although i have repeated several times in this blog about my situation, i feel nothing related to melancholy. in fact, i feel blessed. and honestly... i want to keep being quiet because i learn more. i become better by not trying at all.

i feel so much better now i have learned the art of silence.

my new... busy life

i know i haven't been the best of myself lately. i haven't managed to blog until now. at this very moment (perhaps even as you read it), i am studying for my 6 subjects. but among all that i failed to do, i have managed to insult people anyway. so really, i haven't failed at all. much to my demise, it was something i have constantly tried to change about myself.

i was sitting at a kiosk near the chapel. it was the best place to sit at because everyone was studying and they were all very respectful. that was until this idiot came by the kiosk.

"yawa kaayo si gerard! naligo lang kog singot sa wala!" he cussed loudly. i was striken by the sentence not because he mentioned a devil, but because he was in school and he acted like a barbarian. i thought that it would be over. so i read again my book on obligations and contracts so i would be able to pass if ever i would be called for oral recitation.

"yawa!" he screamed repeatedly. i slammed my book down and said, "excuse me"

apparently, he didn't hear me. so i said again, "excuse me!" but he ignored me again. it was his classmate who noticed my slight anger who called his attention. but still he ignored the call.

"kinahanglan jud lugar magsinggit2?" i screamed in reply. his friends stopped laughing and warned him. i swear, if he didn't back down from cursing so much, i would have given him something to really curse about.

but when i rested my head for a while, i saw my classmate before. she was awfully, intellectually challenged. the answer was right in front of her, but still she would not know the answer. in my reaction to her presence, i grunted, "naa napod na xa."

my friend claire and a stranger turned their heads to her direction and asked why. then i had to open my mouth.

"nagtuo najud ko na naay tao na bugok tungod nya. she's so damn stupid. gihatag na nako ang books a month before. i gave her the term paper in advanced, but then she still didn't know the answer! i was so mad because it was the defense of the paper. i had to cut her everytime she spoke just so she could save herself from embarrassment. she's pretty. but really... she didn't do anything for the paper because she couldn't type the paper for the both of us because she couldn't even produce a simple sentence. i did all of the work and all she had to do was read the references and the paper itself."

but then when i was in law, i realized i said the wrong things. i had no right to call her stupid. i had no right to talk about her that badly. and yes, i'm so super sorry when i said those things. she might have been stupid on certain aspects, but not on others which are yet to be discovered. and if i had a moment to change exactly what i said, i would. i never meant to hurt her whether she knew about what i said or not.

as i left law, i saw antoin and asked him whether i was wrong. he said no because she was asking for it. she's pretty, she had to give more. she was stupid because she really didn't do what she needed to do. but that was according to him. i couldn't remember any other time when i felt like, even if the jury agreed that i was innocent, i remained guilty. this is when conscience really bites.

i've been so super confident with myself that i stepped on other people. i've tried incessantly to change. i love some versions of me. but this version of me is not good. it's not what is best for everyone. i can't hurt people anymore. and i have to start now.


alongside that, i have to read mountains of essays and books. and this is my schedule until august.

mondays-wednesdays-fridays

8:30-9:20 philo 63
9:30-10:20 philo 44
10:30-11:30 ph 54
11:30-12:30 LUNCH
12:30-1:00 review
1:00-1:50 philo 30
2:00-2:30 relax
2:30-3:45 review/ homework
4:00-6:00 rehearsal
6:30-7:00 dinner
7:00-7:30 net
7:30-9:00 study


tuesdays-thursdays
6:00 wake up
6:00-6:30 net
6:30-7:00 breakfast
7:00-11:00 study
11:00-12:00 lunch
12:00-1:00 ready
1:00-2:00 review
2:20-2:50 review (school)
2:50-4:00 philo 57
4:00- 5:30 review for law
5:40-7:00 Law 1
7:00-7:30 relax/ go home
8:00-9:00 study



this is how i am to live in the next two months.

dawn and i.

“I wonder when we’ll ever do that” she said while her breast was sucked by her son.
“we were supposed to do it before you disappeared on me” said hazel as she removed her glasses that were clinging on her nose.
“I’m so sorry about that. I just thought it was unfair on your part” she said. Her child blinked lazily; unaware about the brevity of the situation.
“why?” asked hazel. Breathing slowly and bracing her self for the answer as she slouched back on the couch.
“because I have him” she pointed to her son who fell asleep. He savored the milk on his lips and followed his sleepiness. They both kept quiet for a while. Hazel sat there and thought of ways to tell her how it wasn’t that.
“it was fine with me.” She said. She put back her eyeglasses and looked at her with a comforting smile.
“honestly?” she asked in return as if to wash away the doubt in her mind.
“honestly” she affirmed. She unzipped her bag and opened another discussion about their friends and their beauty pageant days. As the exchanges of laughter and gossip fluttered, hazel noticed how much things have managed to change. Dawn, on the other hand, thought that she hazel moved on and she continued pretending that they were only what they had always been; friends.
Hazel kept her smile on her face, wishing she could bring to the surface the words, “I need you”. but like dawn, pride took what was left of her. as they sat there talking and inserting a few laughs here and there, night began to creep over the city and hazel decided to leave.
“please come back next Saturday” begged Dawn as hazel smiled and nodded her head promisingly.

the second day of school

it would be tempting for me to blog about the disaster which was my first day of school. but the second day is always the best. it is the unappreciated day. it is often the anti-climax of any story. but for me, it is always the best day to talk about. the realizations are fresh and matured. the emotions of excitement and anxiety have expired and there is nothing left but a memory of a day that made me realize that i was getting smarter and i was a year closer to becoming a person of profession.


on my second day, i could say, i'd love to switch it with the first. the second day was relaxed yet it gave me a huge tug on my gut because of all the requirements i was required of. it was the feeling that i could no longer procastinate that ensured me that i was no longer a child. i was just starting to feel like a philosophy student.


it started with waking up early for an 8:30 class at my favorite classroom. it was in agriculture, room 401. that room was very special to me. it used to be my formation room and of course, it was in that very room i had met jafe. the seats were still arranged the way we left them almost two years ago. i was only 17 then, but the feeling of being in that room was still the same until now. although my classmates have changed, but it was the longing that she might just come around to say, "nakabuhat nakag reaction paper?"


sitting there at the front row, i told myself to get over it. i was in that room for learning, not memories. i was not in that room for nostalgia. but as soon as my professor came in through the door, every trace of happiness escaped my face and it turned into a serious mask. i could not allow mr. tangara to ask me why i was smiling except if he knew i was smiling about being in class.


in the following classes, it passed me by like the familiar lazy blurr i always saw when i was still hung over from a certain drug called, forlorness. something was supposed to be there, but it wasn't anymore. something was still supposed to be with me, but it couldn't. somethings weren't supposed to change. but as i climbed down the ramp of student center building, i had to find the right words to tell myself that the first day of school never happened.


that day, i was walking with jmark. i told him i was going to tell her on my birthday and he told me not to. he said that if it was going to do anything, it would only break whatever little we had. we weren't even close friends, but i was sure to break that small string of bond if i told her. but as soon as we parted near commerce building, he told me secretly that rose was with her. as she screamed my name in the traffic of people, i pretended not to hear her. but i looked back to see who was with her and whether it was true, i found it too late to pretend to not hear them.

i put my arms around rose and wanted to strangle her. she knew how much i didn't want to see her again. i just didn't want the feelings anymore. i just couldn't afford any delay. but as my arms were wrapped around rose, her eyes sparked and her smile sliced through. i could not move or breathe. but i regained sanity prematurely and walked up the stairs to my room for Law. i came to a sudden realization that jmark was right. if it was going to do anything, it would only ruin my dignity as a person and her worth too. she'd most probably feel insulted.


i went by the department earlier that day, i was offered a job as stage manager in a huge production. i took the offer without hesitation. in the department, i saw bridgette. i was still disturbed by her presence. but i knew those feelings were about aian again. i still remember him holding her hand as they passed by my table in the cafeteria. i still remember that huge disappointment i felt. but now, the feelings i had against her were only because she had the power then to make me feel so small.

i didn't want to enter the department for any reason except mrs. rivera or sir tangara. i didn't want people to expect me to be human and educated at the same time. i didn't know how to talk and what to talk about in that department. they were all so philosophical that i could not reach them with the little knowledge i have. all i could provide in that prison were questions they never satisfactorily answer.


but after the job offer, the moment i got home, i opened the topic with my dad. i told him that i was offered a job. he got mad and told me i was selfish. he told me i was greedy. i told him it was nothing like that. i just wanted to make something of myself with whatever gift i had. i told him it was unfair how he cuffed me down to whatever it is he wanted me to be. but he disdained me by telling me he would give me 3 thousand if that was all i wanted from the job. i told him that i didn't want him to give me that money, i wanted to work for it. i wanted to know if i was good enough to be paid for. those things i wanted, a father could never provide. all he needed to do was give me a little trust and freedom, but he decided to call me a selfish person. i punched the window and told him, "listen to me damn it!" but he tore after the door and punched me in the face three times. with each mighty blow, i could feel myself getting numb with disgust and hate. painful drops of tears trickled down my face and i only hated him more. my mother came in and told me "mirisi!" as well as my sister.

"kamo ang selfish. tanan ninyo problema, akoy ga atubang. unsa inyo hinain kai akoy cgeg paminaw. tao ra ko! kapuyan sad ko! tapos karon na kani lang ako gipangayo kai dili ninyo mahatag? ngano? asa ko nagkulang sakong pagka anak sa inyo?"

my mother sermoned over and over like a broken record as my sister second voiced "abi kaha niyag maau xa paminawon. maau rbag naa na siyay na graduatan." incessantly. i had to scream at her to shut up because i wanted to listen to my mother. but she only hit me in the face. as usual, she was right.


i never did understood why my sister always hated me. and i never understood why i was her little slave. whatever it was she wanted, i had to give it. and i had no right to talk back or tell her to stop. i had no freedom.


but during the second day, i realized that freedom isn't something i had to get from them. it had always been with me. all i needed to know were the choices and i needed to know what i really wanted. and that afternoon, i went with my gut and took the acting proposition and the stage managing job. neither my parents nor my sisters were involved in my decision. this is my life, and i choose what is best for me... for once.

going back to school, my father tried to talk to me. but i had run out of respect and love and ignored him. i went out of the car without a sound of complain or hurt. i just had to stiffen my upper lip nomatter how painful it was to do so. i had to be strong for myself.

going to the kiosk near the chapel, i was rummaging through my bag for a book. i could not find which one i needed at the moment. as soon as i got to where my friend tyron was waiting near the chapel, that was when i found the book i needed and that was when i noticed eric coming.

"bei. kumusta naman?" he asked. i felt uneasy with him. i didn't want to talk to him anymore. i realized it was so unfair of him to only listen to the bassist in our band. it was unfair how he only had the right to choose what to play because all the songs we chose were songs his voice couldn't compete with. he barely even had a voice to begin with. i wanted to tell him those things. i wanted to tell him that i had a better voice than him but that i felt like we were only his band, not our band. we weren't a band.


when he told us that we were going to poetry read for our general assembly performance, he took the whole cake. we weren't that famous yet! we were just fresh wannabe rockstars. we had to play songs that everyone knew and everyone could tap their feet to. then when we were super famous, that was the time to throw whatever we wanted to. but then he said, "i noticed that the people in davao liked it during our workshop." unknown to him, the difference with his experience and mine were the audience. they determine our fate. the people in his mediocre workshop were literary people. of course they would understand what the hell was going on. but the people in cagayan are more of the music and familiarity. but as usual, he silenced my opinion all because our bassist could do it.


so when he asked me "kumusta?" i just replied, "eric, i quit."
"you quit? philosophy?" he asked. i knew that he knew what i was talking about.
"no. i quit the band."
"ngano man?" he worriedly asked.
"i have alot of things to do. i realized that my grades were more important." i lied. in fact, it had nothing to do with my grades. it had to do with him in general.
"ahw sige. ikaw gud" he sadly replied. and me and tyron walked off to our next class which was ethics.


it was the little things like those that altogether made me feel so much better. it was my choices to either sustain myself or to regain myself out of all the things i felt. i was struck down, but i knew it was something i wanted. i had to make a choice between what i wanted, and what everyone else wanted.



sometimes, the hardest choice to make is between what is right and what makes us happy. between jafe and me, between my father and i, between my life dream and the impediments, between my self recognition and the risk of losing it and most of all, freedom and when to apply it. freedom is never given by anyone, it is something we always have. but the courage to choose remains as something we have to muster or forget about.




thus ends my dilemmas.

i'm not supposed to love you anymore

i was riding the jeepney earlier from aian's house. looking in his sincere eyes, i heard this song play in my head. and i just couldn't help but say to myself, "why not fall in-love again with him?"

i don't know whether or not i'm desperate or just filling a void. i'm still caught up with my past and i'm still determining my real self. but throughout all those things, aian has been really there for me. and i just can't help but say, he deserves my sincerity.

i'm not the kind to back out once i'm not comfortable. but i'm starting to love him all over again.

when i met him over a year ago, i had to leave him because of bridget. i avoided him everyday. he would call me and i wouldn't pick up. it just felt like i didn't want him to have to choose between his girlfriend for 3 years and me. and just last march 24, he and i decided to give us a try. no more agreements. just him and i. no 3rd parties unknown.

and i was at the verge of telling him it was over. i just couldn't lead him on. but as he held the umbrella over my head and a kiss on my cheek, i heard his voice saying "i'm trying". and that made me feel like it was only right for me to try also.

i'm not supposed to love jafe anymore. and as i sat there on that jeepney beside him, i couldn't help but hear both our hearts sigh within the coldness of the night. his heart was saying, "i need you because i love you." while mine said, "i love you because i need you."

i need to give in for a while. i know it sounds stupid. but it's the only fair things to do. sometimes fair things aren't right, but right things aren't fair too. i'd rather be fair than being right. there's still time to be with him to know him better. and i'm in no rush...

unsung heroes

“unsung heroes”
Faye Hazel R. Douglass, UNITASS DOA assoc. head and KKP-SIO volunteer

Enrollment has always been one of the major dilemmas of an ordinary Atenean. The heat of the sun or the cold drops of water from the rain, the unmoving lines, the slow releasing of grades and ID (and so on and so forth) have none the less described the experiences I have had during June 1-6. Not only have these days make me not want to continue my loyal service to the school, but they have only made me want to be a better volunteer.

Enrollment scheme was very simple this semester. Just get the grade, green form, go to the department for evaluation and encoding, back to the registrar for validation and picture taken for the ID. The only agonizing thing about the process is the line as if it was made to test the patience of the dear students.
Luckily, I’m not one of them. I’m a volunteer working for the student council and for KKP. I teach NSTP and I also tutor kids. I help out any way I can. It’s not like I am counting everything I have done, but I’m just being blunt about the things we do as volunteers to the students who do not know what being an SV really means.

First of all, SV does not mean servants. It means student volunteer. it also means we had a choice whether to go on schooling without any extra-curricular activities and have more time for fun or to serve our fellow Ateneans and Filipinos. And it means we chose the latter. We chose to sacrifice our valuable time that could have been spent on other things. We chose to serve.
Second, SV’s follow only one rule: serve. In any way, we all have done our unsung parts for the school. We aren’t paid. In fact, the only motivation we have is the snack which we also pay for. and most of the time, we pay for our own leadership training and fare for wherever we need to be. We help out those who need and don’t need us. Service has always been the reward for us.
Third, the only reward we ever get is to not wait in line like everybody else. We are given ID’s so people can identify us. After all, once we’re done getting ourselves enrolled, we help out with the enrolment so that people won’t have to wait in line longer.
Fourth, we do not get any credits. We do not get any units off so we can pass our subjects or that we can be better volunteers. We made the choice, so we have to constantly remind ourselves why we still want to pursue our passion even if at times we lose our time for ourselves. And on certain occasions, we lose ourselves in the process. But because we love to serve, all that doesn’t matter anymore.
Fifth, we are not supermen. We can’t do everything, but at least we’re doing something. And not only that, we sv’s get tired too. We get hurt, we run out of time, we get fed up. But here we are, serving as usual.
Finally, the purpose of the student program is to serve the school, teachers, and fellow students. It provides an ample and easily accessible opportunity wherein students can put forth their dedication to the school through facilitating the institution with even the smallest help to the larger objectives of this school. Being an SV can definitely boost any form of application process post-college, but in the long run, surely the experiences of willfully serving this school will give us and others a much better insight of our character, and also an improve sense of self-satisfaction for what we have accomplished for others' needs and others' demands.
The reasons why I have chosen these six major concerns is because it surprises me how many people question our intentions. It surprises me how some people feel that it is unfair for us to just cut in line. It surprises me how some students are upset about how we get privileges. And it astonishes me how some students still do not understand our work.
It was my final step on June 3. All I had to do was go to the registrar. So I went to the side of the line where the SV’s showed their ID’s and passed through. I fell in line for my turn and tapped a friend’s shoulder and told him that I’d wait for him after I’d get enrolled. When I went ahead, he screamed violently, “what the hell?!!!!” mortified, I just smiled and winked at him and lowered my head in embarrassment. I wasn’t shy about me being a volunteer, but it was the feeling that I was being unfair. I just sat down on the bench near the registrar’s office with a face as red as a tomato. It wasn’t what he did that made me feel hurt. It was where he placed me with his words that tarnished my spirit. It had disturbed me how I was so against people who abused their power only to find I was only doing it unconsciously.
But after talking about it with a few professors and friends, I felt like it was only fair. We deserve whatever little reward we get. In fact, we get the smallest of all. We don’t have time for a lot of things that ordinary students neglect to appreciate. We wake up early on days we don’t have to. We sometimes forget to eat lunch just so we can finish our goals for the year. And for a single thing like getting ahead of line, that is no longer acceptable?
I don’t think it is fair for some people to scrutinize our role in school. I don’t think it’s fair how we have to bear in mind that we are students and heroes and if necessary, public enemy. I don’t think it’s fair either that we serve people but people don’t help us to help them. even superman needs help. We sometimes never get the respect we deserve. But don’t get us wrong, we don’t demand respect. We believe that it is something to be earned. We work despite and in spite of people disrespecting us and abusing us.
One time in an nstp class, a student of mine got in at 10 am. But still being so kind hearted because his brother was in the hospital, I let him in even if I heard the previous reports of his classmates. He was playing his mp3 (even when he knew that he was not supposed to do so), he slept inside class, he didn’t pay his contribution for the class Christmas party for the kids. There was a time I even caught him smoking within the perimeter of the area work. He didn’t have a workbook. He made no contributions to the class. But being so tolerant, I ignored them all. i admit that there was a time I smoked near the perimeter, but he lied to me and that was wrong. If he admitted it, there was no problem. I would have understood.
So I decided to reprimand him after he incessantly tried to distract me from teaching a few kids. After a few exchange of words, I ended up pointing out his faults and that I had been nothing but tolerant. Until he gets to the point of telling me, “sv raman ka” as I was walking away from him. I came back and told him, “if you can afford to do that to your friends and your girlfriend, don’t do that to me.”I don’t know whether I deserved that. But for every sv who would be insulted like that, it was totally uncalled for. After a few weeks when I lost my anger, I decided to say I was sorry. But he decided not to forgive me. I admit I turned something professional into something personal. But when my dignity as a person is on the line, I have to stand up for myself. Sv or no sv, I had to defend myself.
Sometimes in being a volunteer, we arrive at the fine line between our selves and professionalism. We tend to forget that we are serving when people forget to remember that it is for them. we are human too. And it is so upsetting that we are sometimes treated as unimportant. But here we are, serving anyway. Regardless whether we get respect or not, it just simply comes with the job.
But don’t get me wrong. I love my work. It is my reason for waking up every morning. I feel excited when I get to help people. I find a sense of fulfillment whenever serve others. I feel happy when I get to do more than what I can for others.

We feel like superman when we live out the spirit of service. And that is really why we are student volunteers.

marriage; 'till death do is part.... really?

I haven’t been at a point in my life where I said, “I love you forever” and actually meant it. I’m not a player, I just don’t like thinking about waking up the next morning and the following mornings with the same person. I just don’t like things that are permanent simply because things normally change. And I certainly don’t like having to be enslaved by the idea that some things can stay the same. It’s not a matter about love anymore; it’s a matter of security.

Honestly, I don’t believe in marriage. One of the reasons is that, marriage is a contract. There is a piece of paper legally binding two people under God and the state. All their resources are shared mutually as agreed upon. But if you ask me, marriage is just another way of saying that two people are having sex annually… legally.

I’m not saying this because my parents didn’t work out because that would be a lie. My parents are still together, in-love and all. But every time I ask my mother about whether or not she made the right choice, she would never answer me. Marriage was supposed to be her ticket to law school. But my dad thought that my mother was discontent so he got mad. My mother just wanted to finish law to prove something to her self as well as actually achieve something. Marriage can always do that. It is a way of enslaving men and women again… legally.

I haven’t been married yet. Honestly, I have been through many propositions before. A Muslim boyfriend before asked me to marry him. But when I realized that I could not abandon my faith for him, I strongly declined. It was not because his God is any different from mine; it was because he and I were two separate individuals. I just wanted to keep it that way. I didn’t want him to think in any way that he owned me. I didn’t want him to feed me or clothe me because I could do that for myself. I didn’t need his love, I needed his attention. And If I got married to a man who could get married to 4 women, then that would be limited. I wouldn’t have his full attention 24/7. I would simply have to share it with women he is also legally allowed to sleep with. I don’t like that.

A Christian man also asked me to marry him. But when I saw his family and I met the real him; I decided to live alone. His mother thought that I was just some girl on the side line and i was a girl who had no ambition at all. Much to her surprise, she found out I was able to succeed more than her son did. I was able to reach third year in college while her son became my student in NSTP. Their family owned a small karinderya and that was all they owned. I didn’t say yes to him because he had nothing to offer me. Honestly, love won’t keep us alive. He had no ambition; and that was just appalling. I did love him honestly. But love is not enough to sustain a family. It is essential, but it is naïve. Love is what keeps a family together. But to keep the family alive doesn’t require love.

The only real man who ever loved me was an ex-seminarian. He loved God and still does. He has a job. he knows how to wash clothes. He is independent. For that, I admire him so much. But what I did love about him, and I still do, is that he never makes any promises. He didn’t talk about us getting married. He did talk about having kids, but he never really said to me that we needed to do it. he didn’t get mad when I didn’t want to sleep with him. He loved me; and that was something real.

For so many times I heard my friends complain about their boyfriends, I have always told them, “even married people break up. You should try it”. marriage is not really bad, but it is just impractical. People waste time, effort, money and love for people who will only love them less with every year gone by.

I have had driving lessons last week. My instructor, kuya marko, was married. He told me that when he and his wife were still lovers, he would hold the umbrella for her and made sure she was always at the safe side of the road. But once they got married, he would laugh at her whenever she would trip. If she would be almost hit by a car, he’d reprimand her. see? Even love changes.

The church strongly encourages people to get married which is part of a believer’s devotion. It is to bind two people under the light of the lord. Anything done outside of marriage is a sin. True, but sin is a matter of culture. What is a sin to Filipinos might not exactly be sin to Americans or Indians. Sin… is not a fact. It is just like saying that I once believed in something to be real, and then somebody showed me it wasn’t and then somebody showed me it was true again.

For a long time, I have known that same sex relationship is strictly a bad idea. It is condemned by God and it is wrong. Then my friend told me, it’s not wrong. If it really makes me happy, then I should go for it. so much so that she gave me a number of a girl who was a lesbian. But when I met her and I saw that she looked almost like a man, I backed off. I didn’t want to date a man. I wanted to date a woman!
Then while talking to my professors in my course, I learned a lot about sexuality. I read a few articles saying that it’s okay. It is nothing to be ashamed of. Same sex relationship has real love because it is no longer about physical satisfaction. It is about satisfying each other emotionally and spiritually. And I look at them and say, “yeah right.”
So my friend from Arizona talked with me about sexuality. She said, it isn’t wrong to love a person of the same sex. But biblically, it is. so i opened the Bible to find it written down in sacred text how God only made man and woman and nothing in between.
I honestly don’t believe in either. I believe that sexuality is a choice. If I want to be a lesbian, then I will become one. If I open my mind to a new perspective of happiness, then I will find it. as they say, when there’s a will, there’s a way. Nobody can ever make me feel anything without my consent.

The next reason why I abhor marriage is because it has become a fad. Growing up in my province, people were not so desperate to get married. I always thought that everyone else was getting married at their own convenient time. But I was dead wrong.
My house help’s nephew got married one June afternoon. He invited my family to go to his house in Bukidnon to celebrate with him. They killed a horse and several cows for the feast. Then I asked my helper how young her nephew was. He was only 19. The girl he got married to had just turned 18.
My house help’s nieces all got married or had live in partners if they weren’t old enough to get married yet. Most of the women in their barrio either got married, got pregnant, or had partners. For them, if a person reached 25 and she was still single, it was like she was an old maid. But for my folks in the city, that was just the right age to do that.

The idea of marriage is good. It helps people feel the sense that they are needed. It creates an image of a life less lonely. It creates less space for forlornness and emptiness. But how we interpret the idea of marriage can often turn awry. How we interpret marriage or our reasons for marriage is why it can be a bad idea.
Marriage is supposed to be something done by people who are ready for commitment. It is not supposed to be something to enslave people. It is something that should bind two people without the thought of owning each other. It is something to remind two people of a love they swore to God and to the entire human race and should not be something done for means of survival. It should be something done at the right time, not something done in a hurry. The problem with us today is that we think otherwise. That is really why I don’t want to get married.

Often times, even as lovers, we tend to control each other. And I don’t want that. I don’t want to own anyone. I don’t even own my self. Everything in this world is never ours and will never be. Most of the time, we love a person only and only if the person loves us back. We date men who have jobs because they are potential husbands. And men date women for an entirely different purpose.

Why can’t we just date a man and not have to think about getting married? It’s not a requirement anyway. Nobody has to get married. Marriage, like everything else, is a choice. And I choose to say, I won’t get married unless I know that it’s not because all my friends are married. It’s not because I need to finish school. It’s not because it’s the right thing to do. And it’s never because I want to own someone. I will not get married because I love a man. I can always love anyone or anything without having to get married. Love is not the essence of marriage and marriage is not the essence of life. I will get married because it is my choice, not because I just want something out of it.

I hate marriage. But I’m still 18. Things will still change.

"signs"

at first glance, i'm not your average girl. i'm taller than usual, tanned, and a frank yet tacless mouth. but deep inside, i have a confidence greater than usual and i have an unmalicious mind. typical, yet still a remarkable person. if you look at my bad side, i'm by far the worst person to be with. i insult people without my knowledge. i pretend to know everything. i hate criticisms. i don't eat food that is necessarily sanitized. i hate nursing (sorry to say). and i don't believe in signs.

well... that was not until today...


i was walking towards CIT building to look at my grade since it was blank. for some other reason, i used the pathway near haggerty house where there were more trees and the air always seemed fresh. walking there was like a glimpse of heaven or for some, nirvana. but carrying on my walking, i kept asking myself, "what will i do after this?"

i haven't exactly been a good student. the only possible way for me to get an A is when the teacher uses all my oral scores instead of the written ones or that she takes my attendance as the bigger percentage. i was almost glad when i got an A in my major. only to find, so did the rest of the class. i wanted and still want to be the best. i want it only to be me who got that. sounds selfish and ambitous. but hey, i'm only human.

when i got to the room, my teacher wasn't there so i rushed back to the department to get enrolled and just follow-up on my grade later. i still have a month to comply anyway. so when i rushed there, all my classmates were crowded together in a corner like snails. two of them were my best buds.

i told them i was going to shift to engineering. half my mind was saying, "why not? jafe's there!" but the other half said, "you started this mess... now finish it!" unknown to them, i had been debating with myself for centuries about what i really want to accomplish. i want to be somebody, not just some body.

so i told my friend, "hui. i'm going to shift to engineering". so my friend asked, "which field?" so i answered, "ECE". kidding around, they both wanted to join in. i was so half serious. i swear, if they went to engineering to really shift, i would never be a philo student again! but they all thought i was joking, somehow, i wish i was. but she said, "ayaw ui. mag Law bya tang tulo!"

while waiting for my mom to be done with my sister, i sat nearby the chapel. it was a perfect morning. not only had i seen jafe, but i was able to accomplish alot of things. still, i felt disturbed by my friend's reminder about what we were going to do after college. i felt restless with the idea. is this what i'm really going to do? is this where i'm going to be placed? is this my limit?

just walking along the bench boulevard, i kept thinking, "law??? me???" i don't even know any other law besides RA 9163! and that, i had to do because of a stinking job as a student volunteer. i desperately needed someone, other than my dad, to tell me what to do. i just needed some sort of direction. yes, i needed a sign. i had needed it for so long. ever since i graduated high school, i needed to know where i was going to put myself in. not only did i want to finish my mother's ambition, but i also want to make myself a self made person. so thus i came to the idea of Law.

just when the idea escaped my mind because it was very hot outside, a man sold his old law books half price right outside the second gate of Xavier. my mother, the business woman, wanted to buy the book at 40 percent. i just told her, "ma, the book is still in good condition. just take it for what it's worth. it's more expensive inside!"

the man, who wore a red polo put his hand on my shoulder and said, "you will be a good lawyer because you have a kind spirit." i thought the man was joking! he didn't know me. i don't even know him! how would he know who i was or what kind of spirit did i have? am i really that obvious?

so my mother goes ahead and asks him, "why are you selling your books?" his face became sad and he said, "i couldn't afford the tuition anymore. so i'm selling the books for capital." imagine that! he was going to sell what he needed just to get what he wanted! and here i am, the whole world is in conspiracy to make me a lawyer, i'm even thinking twice about it? and this man, who knows what he wants, can't afford to even achieve it!

i don't know anymore what happened after that. i just couldn't keep my mind off that man and what he said. i couldn't stop thinking about it. i felt glad because i can finally grab hold of a dream. i've had so many of them, but this one, i know i can achieve. it felt so new to me to have something that is mine, and mine alone. it can't be stolen, it can't be taken from me. it's mine. and i don't even have to wish on it. i can work on it, and it's something i know i will have.

then i felt sad. i kept asking myself, hanggang dito lang ba talaga ako? but that instantly disappeared when i realized i was going to get what i wanted. i was going to reach my dream. i was going to get something i had always wanted for myself without it being the latest fad or the most wanted course. i was going to get not only a dream, but the dream.

i'm in fact right now, studying ahead of time. i know it's too soon. but you can't ever be too prepared. and besides, if it's a dream, i need to be at my best game. no foolishness when it comes to that. i'm finally going to get something that makes me happy. i'm going to get what my parents want and what i want. i'm going to accomplish my mother's dream. i'm going to be somebody. all i need is strength, perseverance, diligence and hard work.

and of course a bit of what troy bolton said, "keep your head in the game."

on bended knees

sorry to steal the title from a song, but i believe that i'd do it justice if i write something deeper and more profound. but this line in the song started with, "oh god give me a reason, i'm down on bended knees". unlike the song which tells the story of a man who is desperately trying to get over his agony (as well as himself), he goes back to the lord for comfort and wisdom.

just this morning as i was headed to liceo for my driving lesson, my father blasted the car with christian music. it was up to 16 which was very loud. i could barely hear myself think! i got so mad that i screamed at him to lower down the radio so my mom could drive properly. he then inserts himself and says "i don't understand what your saying anyway so i'm going to listen to something I enjoy!". i mean, of course it makes sense. it doesn't bother me what he listens to, what does bother me is how he constantly puts us in a position where we all want to hate him. i naturally don't care about him. i've lost my passion to continue life for my dad. and yes, i have learned to stop loving him a long time ago.

so back off, we were in the car right? so... he asks me "how many minutes do you spend for God?" i kept quiet because i already told him that everything i do is for God. i make my deeds a form of sacrifice. he then says, "see, you can't even answer me!" pissed off, i told him, "you don't get to tell me what to do! don't dictate me on how i should praise God! just because you can't control your life, it doesn't mean you should control mine!" and almost automatically, my father kept quiet.

a few minutes later, while driving out of town, i regained sanity. even though i didn't love my father, i had no right to treat him that way. even if i hated having to believe in God because that was what he constantly pinned down in my head, i still believed in him which meant it was at least in a way effective. i just hated the idea that my life was being run by a self proclaimed emperor. then i came to the idea that if i wasn't able to treat my father with respect, i wasn't doing God any good either.

it's like, there is a commandment that says, "fathers, do not provoke your children". and i have been using that as an excuse to hate my father. instead of looking for good things he has done to me, i constantly keep my eyes on his mistake and never ever forget to remember them. all i see is him trying to make me miserable. in ways it is true, he even forgets my name, but in some... it's not the case.

even when i told my father that i didn't love him anymore, he still paid for my school. he bought me a car, he wrote down our house in my name and promised me a future in the states. even when i made up reasons to hate him, he continually found reasons to love me.

i really don't love my dad. honestly, i want to live without being with him. but then again, i can't imagine my dad not being with me when i need him most.

i remember a time when i was two years old when he would take me outside to bathe me. i was too young to pronounce "kabo". he brought me outside that one afternoon. i could still remember because my mother was making salted eggs and balut for extra income and she'd always make them in the afternoon when she was done with siesta. so my dad put me on a wooden cover for the huge water tank. he didn't notice that it was already rotting because he was busy getting my soap and clean clothes. i didn't notice either since... well... i was still 2.

he went back inside the house to get what he needed for my bath which included the kabo. i was singing mandy when the wood broke in half and i fell head first into the tank full of water.


they say that at the moment before you die, you see have a flashback. my life wasn't that long so there wasn't so much to look at. all i remember was my mother holding me in her arms while making me go to sleep. i remember my dad singing, "pipay, i love you so. don't you know oh oh oh, pipay i love you so... pipay i love you so." and stuck in that upside down position, almost out of breath, lungs almost collapsing, i felt a touch on my ankle and i was pulled upward.

my dad saved me.


the same thing happened when i was four. i was following my sister and our neighbor len-len who were planning to get native guavas at the back of our small farm. they told me to stay behind, but i kept following them anyway.

we passed by a broken canal my dad demolished before because water could not pass through properly. my sisters acrobatically walked at the sides and continued to push me away. angrier and desperate to have my sister's attention, i went on following them.

i tripped on a rock and fell head first into the hole where my head hit a broken glass. the scar still is visible 'till this day. moments later, i opened my eyes to see my father holding me in his arms and my mother getting gauze and guava tea to wash my wound.


all those times i was inches away from death, my father came to the rescue. he was always ready to pull me out of deep-shit situations. and for that, i thank God for him. for every good thing he did, i bless my dad.

turning around, i saw myself. all those times, i had always been the "good child". i was the one who always got good grades, the one who never got into trouble, the one who was continually progressive. i was always the one who my parents gave everything to. i was always the one who my parents wanted to be with. and no matter how effed up things were, i was always the one they trusted. but all these titles were my choice. i didn't want to be the reason why my parents kept regretting why they made children. i didn't want to be the worst child, they already have bad ones.

but behind closed doors, they don't know who i am. i'm still the girl who has a summer ritual of trying to kill herself. i'm still the girl who wishes to get cancer just so she could die. i'm still the girl who never learns. i'm still the girl who had a child but died. i'm still the girl who feels unloved. and i'm definately still the girl who can't find her true identity.

to them, they see me as someone strong and independent. but to those who know me, they see me as someone who separates herself. i don't know why i am like this. i don't really give in to one set of friends for a long time. i always seem to run into bad reasons to stay and i always abandon them regardless if they need me or not. and i always want to be alone even if it means going away from God's light just so i could prove to everyone that i made it without anyone's help.

reflecting upon this want, it still went back to my sisters. my eldest had always been the genius, and that's not just a title i gave her. she is, literally, a genius. she was the one who knew how to spell before she could talk. she knew how to write and read. she could draw, she could dance, she could do anything except sing. my other sister was always the one who knew how to gain money. she always knew how to embezzle everyone. she was the meanest of us 3. she would make me cry on a regular basis. she could sing. and boy, she has one heck of a voice. but neither of them wanted me around during my childhood.

i would enter their room to play with them. they would push me out of their room and tell me i didn't belong there. it was just a childish thing. but i couldn't forget how my eldest said "no she's not my sister" when i called her in recess. i most especially couldn't forget when my other sister went to her friend's birthday party instead of mine. i would never forget how my sister took my lunch money because she said she already used hers to buy a yoyo. and at that time, you were the coolest kid when you had a yoyo that flashes light.

but a more mature thing came along when i was in second year high school when my sister had sex with my boyfriend. my other sister's boyfriend almost raped me but she still chose him over me and said, "starting now, you don't have me as your sister anymore." i still remember how they forced me to enter a relationship where the boy only got me drunk and raped me. and i definately remember how my sister punched me in the face in dv soria and my mother took my sister's side.unknown to them, i still bear these things in my heart. unknown to all of them, i still hurt all over again when i remember these things.

but, if i look at the positive side to what they did, they have done alot of good things to me. like my eldest teaching me algebra in grade 6. my other sister teaching me how to sing. my sisters who took me out for lunch when i had my first heart break and my sisters who celebrated with me when i graduated and was offered to school in xavier. they were the ones who saw me cry, even if sometimes they were the reason.

my family had always been the apple of discord. everything always goes wrong. but hey, they're just human. even i make mistakes, i just don't know them. i am sometimes optimistic, but there are times when i wake my mother in the middle of the night because i want to die. there are times when i broke my mother's heart when i pulled out a knife and desperately tried to cut my wrist because i felt discontented. there are times when everything is oh so wrong, but my family remains strong for me. my dad pulls me out of shitty situations, my mother takes my side whenever i need it, my sisters take me out when i'm sad (with tanduay in hand).

and through the years, they are a constant reminder to me that God exists.

confront me

i'm not one to complain about things. i shouldn't be so pessimistic. i know my place and i know i make mistakes. this is one thing i hate which always happens every damn year and every new damn friend. there is always a falling out. it's either i run out of positive things to look for in a friend, OR, i can sense being unwanted.

i'm not that numb. i admit in fact that i'm too sensitive even at times i shouldn't. and when the time calls for me to be, i don't. i act like a bitch and insult everyone in the room. i don't mind people hating me for being who i am. i wish i could change, but then again, i don't want to. but so, here goes my blog.

i'm starting to hate what this friend is doing. every time we talk, she pulls out the carpet under my feet. it's not a literal statement, but i wish you'd get the point. there are times when criticism is good. in fact, it is always best for people to keep track of their lives. but this friend of mine, it's like it's her agenda to just piss me off. she cuts me off, and then she doesn't talk at all. sometimes, i don't care whether it is intentional or not, she shuts me off. it's like if i were a blazing fire, she'd hose me down.

i know i shouldn't mind it. she wouldn't make me feel any bit of this anger and disappointment without my consent right?

so my agenda for these upcoming months is to just simply avoid her. i won't make myself prolong any agony.... enough.

unpampered spirits

christopher woke up that morning with an aching head. clearly hung over from partying all night. he rushed over to the comfort room to dispose involuntarily whatever it was he injested.





he washes his face at the sink and pauses to take a deep breath while letting the water run and drain down what he just threw up. a red but pale face looks back at him. the mirror seems to show him a very unfamiliar side of chris; a side he had always welcomed, but never progressively stood up for.





he pauses to find himself thinking about thoughts he had always wished would go away. he stands up straight and goes to the kitchen. he opens the fridge as usual and drinks a couple bottle of beers for breafast. and maybe... just maybe... he might get drunk and not think about it again.

and it has been like that for as long as everyone can remember. nobody really knows his story. everytime somebody asks him, it's either he gives a nervous laugh or an angry stare. his friends know the reason, but most have forgotten the exact details. but for him... the memories are still vivid. he still remembers his everything.

he steps out of his house everyday, find a ride to town and get drunk as usual with his usual circle of friends who are only too apathetic to see that he was not alright. and for a long time... christopher disappeared. that was when everyone panicked. this is where our story begins...

"he always seemed to have nothing wrong with him" says jade; his partner in crime. she always seemed to know everyone. she always thought she was right. she was scanning through old scrapbooks and photo albums. there, the distant smile of christopher seemed real enough to touch.

"does he have anyone he might have gone to?" asked hazel, the concerned yet forgotten friend. everyone hated her because she always wanted to talk things out. people didn't like her because she was always the first to get drunk and first to leave. jade, sweet and stain turn their heads away from her and ignore her.

"what really happened?" asked sweet who was scratching her head in confusion. she was always the pretty one and the one who every one wanted to be with. stain turned his head to her and started his version of christopher's story.

"he loved her before. she was always there. every single day. but he fell in-love with someone else" he started. stain was always half-right with his stories.

"girl or boy?" asked lyris, the youngest of the group. she was the one who knew everything, but was as closed as a clam.

"ha ha! what a question!" said jade. she slammed the books shut and joined stain and sweet laughing. lyris simply looked back at hazel who was clearly insulted by their ignorance.

"does he have anyone he might have gone to?" asked lyris who noticed the question was left unanswered. jade paused to think and eventually lied down in despair and speachlessness. her eyes were staring at the ceiling.

"pour me a cup of coffee." stain told hazel. she stood up without a sound or any form of violent reaction. lyris went with her and talked things over.

"how could this happen?" whispered sweet who was devastated by his disappearance.

hazel came back with a cup of coffee in her hand while lyris brought the sugar and cream. stain snapped his fingers and hazel passed it to him.

"did anyone check his house?" hazel asked who was busy attending to the refreshments but still keeping her mind on the topic. jade rolled her eyes and ignored the question. stain just gave an arrogant laugh while sweet remained speachless. she had noticed everyone ignoring her every question.

"since when did this happen?" asked lyris. jade sat straight up from lying down and lit a cigarette.

"i don't know. he last called me a week ago. but that was all i heard from him." she said and she blew smoke from her nose.

"well... what did he say?" asked sweet who stood up and sat next to her. she needed to hear this.

"well... i was drunk. i could barely remember. all i do remember is him saying that he'll be fine." she said. she rested her head on sweet's lap and tried to close her eyes and survive the hang over.

"where could he be?" lyris asked herself. everyone sat down to think. hazel had a clue where he weant... but she knew that as soon as she opened her mouth, everyone would discard everything she says whether it was the truth or a hunch.

"have we tried looking near the beach? he might just be there" said hazel. jade opened her eyes to think and sat straight up again.

"can you please shut up? that is such a stupid idea! why would he go there? he would most likely go to a place where we never would think to find him!" she screamed at hazel. lyris sat beside hazel and carressed her back as hazel swallowed her pride and kept quiet. she obviously felt insulted, but tolerated it.

"jade... just stop being so hostile." said lyris who was trying to comfort hazel.

"who are you to dictate me?" she barked. "get me a glass of water!" she demanded from hazel. she stood up and did it anyway. although she didn't know anymore why, but she kept that circle of friends.

"jade. stop being so harsh." said lyris who was noticing the tension getting hotter by the second.

"you're just my little sister!" she said. hazel who was inside the kitchen heard the screaming and backsassing.

"i'm going guys." said hazel who everyone ignored.

"there you go. you always leave whenever we need you most!" shouted jade. hazel seemed insulted by her remark when in fact... all of them made her want to leave. lyris only softened the impact of their incessant insults.

"what do you need me for? you don't listen to me!" she said and stood up. she aimed to storm out of the room and leave them for good. lyris held her arm in a desperate attempt to not make the situation grow worse.

"who would want to listen to you?" said stain who gave an insulting laughter. lyris felt hazel's arm stiffen and it grew hotter. her fists were anticipating a punch but she was well aware about her dignity and she respected all of them.

"stop it." said marie. stain's girlfriend. she came in from the door behind hazel. everyone turned around in surprise. her eyes were sore and swollen.

"love" called stain affectionately and kissed her cheek. she rejected the kiss and sat down with hazel who was now sitting at the counter; trying to recover herself.

"you sit here and think that this will help christopher." she began. she was about to begin the sermon that would make them behave rationally again.

"christopher's gone and the best you can do is speculate where he could be? jade... you were too drunk to realize that chris was trying to commit suicide. stain, you were too busy making hazel look like a fool to realize what he was about to do. and sweet, you were too busy having fun with those boys to realize that he sent 10 messages because he needed someone to talk to!" she pointed out. jade, the overconfident spawn of the devil refuted.

"and where were you? you think you're so innocent!" she screamed. silence struck the room as marie's eyes bursted into tiny bitter tears. she kept her posture straight and firm, "i was with my mother. she died that night."

jade took a step back in embarrassment. hazel didn't look around to see if any of them were surprised. she wasn't. she knew about it. but she never told a sould since...well... nobody cared what she said.

"i'm sorry marie" came out lyris' quiet voice.

"do you know where christopher is?" asked hazel. marie turned around to face her and nodded.

"where is he?" asked hazel.

"where do you think?" said marie. hazel pondered around for a few minutes in silent contemplation.

the psychic instructor

today, my driving instructor was sir adonis. it was just like yesterday with kuya arbie except that i was much more comfortable with him because of his charm and that helped ease the nerves of a novice. it was my first time yesterday to drive on the highway so speeding was one of my main concerns as well as signals and clutch-break-gas decisions.

today however, i drove things more than just a car. i drove myself into a never ending spiral of confusion and obscurity and eventually... insanity. i could not think whether i should pursue my friend and classmate or my crush for almost two school years.

it hit me when i was driving uphill to lumbia airport which was a 10 minute drive from my house and a 30 minute drive from bulua. hanging on to my thoughts as entertainment while driving; i came across the thought of her smile. it was the one she had given me in sociology class when i got my hair fixed and her hand accidently caressed my chin. the feeling of soft and unsure comfort; everything was so fresh even if it happened once in the previous semester. that memory should be buried along with every wrong and right feeling i had. then almost suddenly, my instructor pulled the break extension at the passenger's side.

"whatever it is you're thinking about, don't" he said casually. i was unsure whether he could read minds or that my thoughts somehow didn't stay in a thought bubble.

partially, i would have just told him to drive the car for me and let me go home. i didn't want to drive anymore. until he said, "pull over here". i stopped the car at his demand and he let out a thunder of laughter. it might have been because i was not thinking about the road, i was thinking about both of them at the same time. whichever i was going to choose then could be my only shot at happiness.

but after talking things over with my long time crush and current boyfriend, it was one of those things i could have just left behind. i could have just told him it was over despite of his pleading and his evident change. i could have pulled the breaks, but i couldn't. weakness? maybe... stupidity? surely.

he held my hand under a huge mango tree. i felt so sure the words to let him go would escape my mouth. instead i asked him if i would ever see him again. it was so hard to let him go because the only attention i ever wanted from anyone was right there and i didn't have to beg or cry for it. it was just handed to me for free. that kind of love is hard to find.

i don't know sincerely if my friend was right that because i'm discontent with my family, i'm looking for some other source of my emotional necessities. i don't know even if it crossed her mind that i'm desperate. but surely, i'm not strong enough to let him go yet. and i have not owned my classmate so i could let her go. either way, one of them has to mean something to me. i had to choose today; myself, the man i waited for for two years, or my not so close friend ever since national service training program.

i read somewhere that a confused heart is so much harder to teach than a confused mind. the mind can simply aquire knowledge and validity in the data through books. but the heart is unteachable. it is the only stubborn thing in the body which, when targetted, goes to where there is hurt and which the heart hurts about something because it means something to the heart. mindlessly, i chose to use my heart in more than 100 ways. all were a failure.

this is by far my most uncomfortable experience ever and i regret ever entering this. but whenever i get out of this, i'm sure i will learn a thing or two. hopefully, it won't take long.

how to mend a broken heart

“honey…” she tried to confront him. He turned to his phone that was ringing incessantly.

“I need to take this. Just a minute honey” he promised. Her tears were falling back as he turned his back on her and talked to his gadget. People around her beamed at her while she tried to wait for chris to come back.

“would you like more wine miss?” asked the waiter while showing her a bottle of red wine. She had not taken notice of the label and quickly said “yes” to ease her nerves.

“I’m so sorry honey. That was my boss.” He said. It had seemed as though he had forgotten why they were out for dinner that night. It even seemed as though he had forgotten that they had been together for 5 years. It was their anniversary.

“honey. I need to tell you something” she said. Just then the waiter came from the kitchen with a dish on both hands for each of them.

“oh good. Dinner is here” he said in relief. Her eyes were getting heavier and heavier as the waiter flicked his match and soon enough her dish was blazing in fire.

“isn’t this great honey. Just you and me… no work for a week.” He said happily. He was clearly unaware of her staring at him and waiting for him to listen to her even when she was not talking. He fixed his table napkin on his lap and he got his knife and fork and cut through the steak he had just gotten from the waiter.

“honey.” She attempted again.

“what?” he said. His hands were each holding a utensil and were resting on the white table cloth.

“I’m…” she started before she was clearly interrupted by the phone call chris got again.

“I’m sorry honey. Let me take this.” He excused himself and got up again.

Her food stopped burning and she ate quietly her chicken. The food was great but the flavor was washed away by her tears that were flowing down. She ate while waiting for him to come back again.

“miss. Are you okay?” asked the table beside her. She nodded in denial and continued eating. The old couple beside her handed a handkerchief.

“your husband doesn’t know what he has here.” Said the old man in black suit. she stiffened her upper lip and waited for him to come back again.

“honey.” She said as soon as he sat down.

“I’m so glad that was over. Let’s eat now.” He invited. He had just forgotten that she was going to tell him something. She put her fork and knife together at the right side of her plate. She wasn’t finished with dinner yet, but she was through with him.

“honey.” She started again.

“aren’t you going to eat?” he asked ignoring what she had to say. He kept on chewing incessantly his steak which he kept remarking as “superb!”

“no.” she said.

“we should get a doggy bag. Maybe you’d like to finish later” he said. She put her hands together and just kept crying. He didn’t notice her until the waiter handed over the desserts.

“honey!” he exclaimed in worry. “is the food here that bad?” he ignorantly asked.

“honey. it’s not that anymore.” she started to tell him it was over and she was leaving him for good; pregnant or not. his phone beeped again. he flipped open his phone in excitement.

“honey look. My friends invited us over this weekend to the beach.” He inserted again. he got up again and quickly dialed his friend’s number while she was left again.

Realizing that she’d never be worth anything to chris, she stood up and he came back after seeing her about to leave.

“honey. not here.” He whispered embarrassingly. He had just noticed every couple in the area glaring at him. She opened her purse and slammed $300 to his chest.

“here’s my share for tonight” she said. He was just starting to realize the brevity of the moment.

“honey. I can pay for tonight” he giggled. He rested his arm behind her and tried to encourage her to sit down again.

“you didn’t hesitate to pay for tonight. But you also didn’t hesitate to make me your option chris.” She said bluntly and she stormed out of the restaurant. Every glaring eye turned away and noise came back from each table. They all resumed talking about things he never paid attention to.

he pulled out a box from his pocket and opened his diamond ring for her. with regret; he closed his tiny box of dreams and sat back down and ate dinner by himself.