Because I was deeply touched.

Since I wasn't able to join my classmates for their immersion a few months ago due to the Ateneo College Entrance Test, I joined the batch 8 immersion.
We went to Sitio Valentin.
Going there wasn't a convenience. Riding a boat, seeing a river with floating trash and yellow submarines.. But I was in for a surprise after all.

I was assigned to Nanay Clarisssa. When we went there, she was still at work so Richmond and Maya welcomed Luigi(my partner) and I. Richmond was typical at first glance but be careful not to overlook his mature insights.
Okay. So, I'm not really good at telling stories so I'll cut to the chase.
When we were leaving for the second day, he cried. I was deeply touched. Who would've thought that a kid as young as 5 or 6 could love people so easily?
Gah. Couldn't organize my thoughts.Someday, I'll give justice to what you have made us feel, Richmond.

I wish I could..

• ..go bungee jumping. Why couldn’t I? Coz of geographical hindrance.
• ..grow taller. Why couldn’t I? Because it’s hereditary and my dad is short and my younger brother just got really really tall because of too much lactose tolerance.
• ..become thinner, lose weight. Why couldn’t I? Because I can’t stop eating.
• ..have a pimple-free face. Why couldn’t I? Because my face just loves collecting pus, red marks and painful lesions.
• ..have more time to hang out with my ‘real’ friends: the ones who could actually makes me happy, in a far-from-shallow way.
• ..talk to my dad more. Enough said.
• ..be more responsible with my time, my school stuff.
• ..watch more TV and spend less time online.
• ..love
• ..be loved

Howdy mates!

Lately, I've been really active on Tumblr, pouring random emo-ness. I just do not know when to post things on Tumblr and when to post them here.

But just the same, I just want to pour things out.

So yeah. Tomorrow, we shall perform again for the Speech Choir. I hate stuff like this. For three years, I've been shouting my heart out usually just for a simple command which cannot be executed well by brainiacs which happen to be in close proximity to me. Okay. Kidding. So yeah, I, being someone who actually cares about his grades(yes, these gruesome activities are graded.), cannot just leave things alone and be passive. I am urged. I need to think. I need to act. I need to command..

But right now, I'm slacking off. I'm letting everything slip out. I'm letting my ideas be pulverized by short-term memory. I just stay silent and for once, I became a follower. Leading is too much of an unfulfilling task for me. And the fact that someone smarter and in a more likely position to lead is my classmate serves as the cherry on top.

Ahhhh. What a life.. What a fulfilling, lazy, laying back life.

To lose is to not gain

As the salty excretions from my eyes dry; and as steamy water wash my lifeless body, I still stand. Though not as firm as before, but I still am holding on.

Forgive me for being empty, cold and bitter. Please, just let me be for a while. For emptiness gives me more room to contain what the future might throw at me.

It was my last shot. I tattooed that to my psyche. I made a landmark of it in what little space my brain has. But when they gave out the freaking sheets of facts, I became a defenseless dog under the butcher's knife. It was anything out of the ordinary.
The moment that I needed to compile everything I know of news writing was the time when I gave up and realized how news writing wasn't really for me. Yes, it was too late. And I must suffer its consequences. I walked out of that dark room feeling the universe on my shoulders. The self-proclaimed failure shall finally be known.
It was sort of a safe haven; free from harms but vulnerable to just being static. It was safe. Just plain safe.

During the awarding ceremonies, I was not feeling anything anymore. My heart beat like it never have before. 7th..6th.......1st... No, my name wasn't announced. My heart stopped. I didn't want it to come back to the beating norm but it must, like how a bird must tweet.

I don't know how I came to this but I kept on channeling my emotion during RSPC 2005. My writing was raw, simple and basic. And that probably was what made it shine. Knowing too much and knowing too little would both mean confusion. It was a milestone in my life, a moment that I would never let my memory dispose of.  Silver. Bagging silver amidst a hundred brilliant minds. Silver. And a year after, I bagged what I think of is a mini version of a lifetime achievement award: being Outstanding Young Journalist, making me an NSPC delegate twice. A normally once in a lifetime experience for many..)except if you're Martha Ilagan, The Legend)..came to me twice. Maybe that was enough. Maybe that was all God intended to.

But still, I cannot help but to be disappointed. I wanted to make Ma'am Veran proud. I wanted her to feel that she has prepared us enough to face the challenges and the whatnot. Of course, she gave it her all and more.
She doesn't need an award to prove that she is an outstanding adviser. She doesn't. I guess, the successful writers that she has produced are her living plaques and medals, outshining any physical merit or commendation.

And about the school paper where we poured everything into and we only got one award...I don't exactly know how that happened. During the awarding for school papers, I walked out of the venue and just wanted to be with myself. I just couldn't handle seeing everyone sad. I felt that we were being stepped on when all we did was try to rise above other's standards. And The Heartbeat was my ship; I was its captain. And if people are gonna tell me that my ship was ugly then I'd have to throw my anchor at them, then. Okay, kidding. 

I broke down because it dawned on me-my failure, my shortcomings. Every little flaw that you can identify about my editorship surfaced. It was slowly killing me. It partially did. I partially died. I was just a breathing thing, a useless matter. A useless matter excreting salty, excruciating tears.

Quickie

I can't believe how dysfunctional our water system is.. Which makes our heater behave badly too. Having a heater that doesn't heat stuff is like having a heart that doesn't pump blood. It's deadly as shit.

Oh well. I can't believe that tomorrow will be the first day of my last RSPC. Bummer. I wish I could have more RSPC's but hey, I think I've had enough.

Communists.

I don't know if I'm just lacking in awareness but I don't really get why people condemn communism that much. Yes, I have been paying attention during our Economics class. I actually love that subject so much. And I salute Karl Marx! I guess I still have a lot of googling to do.

If we have chosen the position in life in which we can most of all work for mankind, no burdens can bow us down, because they are sacrifices for the benefit of all; then we shall experience no petty, limited, selfish joy, but our happiness will belong to millions, our deeds will live on quietly but perpetually at work, and over our ashes will be shed the hot tears of noble people."

— Karl Marx, in a letter to his father, 1835

Mine.

It's weird reading my essay draft after the shining limelight. It has faded and I have realized the flaws that have made themselves distinguishable.
But anyway, at least I landed a spot. And that's what's important. Hahaha.
Here it goes:


Literature-a collection of letters and words slowly passing through the slow yet careful hands of the weaver to produce an intricately-designed body of knowledge featuring a spectrum of colors beyond a rainbow's prowess. It truly is humanity's wonder; an outlet of their thoughts which have progressed throughout a myriad of centuries.

To make the baffling decision between prose and poetry would be a herculean task but with one's genuine love for words, he can truly define the fine line between the two and distinguish which fits his psyche.

Scrutinizing my persona, poetry definitely appeals to me best. Poetry, in its purest form, is truly a work of art having qualities which sets it apart from prose. Through its connotative way of expression, it gives birth to a new eye which sees only a parcel of reality.

The profound balance of liberation and constraints serves as its aesthetic. It tests its aspirants to scrutinize their furthest thoughts, freeing them slightly yet learning proper reservation. Poetry teaches us true freedom; one that isn't a total pouring of opinions but having the ability to weigh our thoughts to cater to the people around us in a genuine way.

Poetry appeals to the figurative portion of our thinking. What makes it special is how it can diverge and cover the modern-day issues which are beyond stressing into humor, creativity, enthusiasm and vague pleasure. It shows us that things shouldn't always stay conforming and denotative. To take a break from the unfulfilling aspirations in this industrialized world is what it lures us into.

Sometimes, due to its form and design, it stirs confusion. But this confusion just goes to show that however intellectually-directed we are, some things in life are to be left in constant deciphering. And the continuous drive to understand gives us a holistic and a more just view of our surroundings.

Moreover, poetry directs us back to memories of childhood; the innocence, the simplicity of life and the easily attained gaiety from simple words which rhyme at the end. Who could ever forget how we smile while listening to Humpty Dumpty or Babba Black Sheep? Poetry truly captures hearts.

Poetry is a sanctuary where everyone has his/her own say about things. It is constructing yet liberating. It takes us back to a peaceful resort where everyone can go back in time through rhymes and creativity that flourish. It is a fountain of love; love that everyone deserves. Love which has become unnoticeable can make itself shine through poetry.

(I forgot how I ended this. It wasn't on my draft.)

Editor's Note-This essay was made during the UP Kalilayan competition. Portions of the essay posted here aren't exactly identical to the one submitted because the editor tends to change things while rewriting. This is from his draft.

Flash

I haven't blogged for a while again. October was just stressfully fulfilling. Highlights:

Accomplishing and producing The Heartbeat on time.

Being an EIC is no easy job especially when you do not get a hundred percent cooperation from your team mates. You'd have to tighten things up a bit, stretch your limits to a few more inches and sleep less. You'd have to set other things aside and completely dedicate your line of thinking to the paper, editing articles and checking facts. For someone who doesn't have the passion for writing, this may seem like a herculean job. But the love for words makes it worthwhile. I must be honest, I really had a hard time. I kept comparing our situation with the past EIC's. I kept on asking if they had the same issues with submissions, if they had to completely revise things up or if they had to reach their extremes before getting people to do their work. I had those questions. 

I was scared. I was scared because producing a paper that will not pass other people's standards would mean failure-failure for me, especially as the EIC is the captain of the ship.. and if his ship sucks, he prolly does too. 

But hey, above all, we finished on time..but just barely..(We submitted the paper 5 minutes after getting it from the press.) And we did a pretty mighty job. We'll just hope that they'd appreciate our blood and sweat though they'll have to judge through heaps and heaps of writer's products, I hope they'll appreciate ours better. :D

My birthday.

Twas one of the happiest birthdays I've ever had. Usually, my birthday would fall on an examination day..which really sucks. It actually did too this year but I was excused. Yey. So, yeah. I competed for the essay writing hosted by the UP Kalilayan. It was a hair-raising experience. The instruction was: "If you were a form of literature, would you be prose or poetry? Explain why. " Twas really hard for me to choose between the two because poetry is not that close to my heart anymore; I preferred prose. But then again, writers have to pick where they could conveniently spill their thoughts out, even if they weren't wholly true. And poetry was so much easier to expound. So there. And I got the silver plaque. Yeah. All because I wore my lucky red underwear.. *kidding* I don't have a particular lucky red underwear but I do have red underwear. I got this from Ma'am Veran. She said that it brings good luck so yeah. hahaha. I'll try to post my essay here.

So that's it for now. 

We have to let her go.

I just need to squeeze my writing juices so I could start writing my articles. So I thought of blogging first.

So. Yeah. I have a lot to blog about. It's been a month since I last blogged and September was a pretty eventful month.
But right now, I'd like to focus on a topic that is dear to me.

A few weeks ago, we once again competed in the DSPC. I thought that things would feel all too familiar, having been competing since 5th grade(but skipped a year during 7th grade). But no. This year was different.

It was different in a way that it always makes me teary-eyed every time I think about it. It's really hard to shrug off the feeling that you will do the things you so enjoyed for years for the last time. It's hard to fully attach yourself to people who you know will be detached from you, sooner or later. It's painstaking to imagine how they will be next year(especially with the good byes that are to happen.. Yes, it's officially happening. And it's tearing us apart..as least for a few of us who know about it.) It hurts me to not be there for them when they will experience the "transition," with whoever will guide them next year. I know it will be hard for them..but I feel like it's harder for me to see them hurting from afar and I could not do anything about it.
I am their "kuya" and they made me feel the love and respect that I couldn't get anywhere else. I wish to reciprocate this by being there for them. . which will be physically impossible next year. I wish to make them feel my presence. I wish to be their backbone when they feel weak. I just cannot afford to see them suffering next year if ever someone undeserving will get the new position. I just cannot imagine the sadness, especially of the new ones, who are a bit fragile, still.

But that's just how life goes. "She" has to be free too..to be with her loved one..who will give her the happiness that we cannot give. We have to let her go. And we just have to move on.

(and just to assure you that I really love them, I'm teary-eyed again while blogging)

To blame is an irrationality.

In the future, when we look back, we wouldn't want to refresh an old memory, as if renewing cuts and bruises and spilling alcohol, of having to do something or not. We wouldn't want to forever keep a part of ourselves hidden because of shame. We wouldn't want to be the odd one out when in fact, we all are common denominators.

The news about the recent hostage-taking flooded, if not, stormed the media and all forms of it. And now, people cannot help but to ask where the finger should be pointed. This clearly shows how our priorities are tattered and misled. We value the blame and not the solution(or at least remedy, in this case.) 

It is done. It happened. It slipped through our hands, seeing the situation slowly turn into a silent nightmare and we cannot be awakened, as we are under a sleeping pill of hopelessness and irrationality. 

We shouldn't look for people who weren't there or who didn't do what they should have done. We shouldn't ask for explanations or excuses now.

It is now a time of waking ourselves up from the nightmare that has stricken our heads. It is time to move, to show that we Filipinos are a race to be proud of. It is the grab-deserving moment where we should shine and slowly recuperate from this grim turn of events.

It's no one's fault. No one plants to get his crops withered. No one studies to get one's brain drained. No one loves to get heart-broken. We do certain good things for them to get reciprocated. We plant to produce abundant fields of golden crops. We study to develop our intellect and we love to be loved. So certainly, no one protests to just catch attention. There is always that reason for someone to do something, may it be major or not. 

I had been asked whether to whom I should be mad at. I do not know if my answer was a product of playing-safe or it is right. I answered, can we not just stop looking for faults? Can we just stop the bashing? Can we just let go of the negative rope and instead, hold onto a brighter and more righteous rope, striving for a better morning?

All that was done is done.

Life is lost for us to learn how to value its fragility more. It didn't have to end like that but it doesn't define the totality of the situation.

I'm just saying. :)

I want to be a naturalist!

When I was a kid, I used to spend all my time watching shows from Animal Planet. From the long documentaries about birds, to action-filled shows featuring wild lions, their hunting habits and the diversity of the African landscape. I miss those days. I miss idolizing the late Steve Irwin(may he rest in peace). I miss saying that I want to be a naturalist. Coz now, all I could say is I want to fulfill a not-so-fulfilling dream. I want to be something for the name, for the prestige; not because it was my childhood dream. It's too late now. I have deteriorated my original passion to make way for other priorities. I have lost interest. I have lost the needed intellect for science. Science and I broke up and I have a complicated relationship with the Liberal Arts now.

Paradox.

Rivers were once home to the greatest civilizations in the world. In our country, rivers also served as major passageways and centers of diversity. That's where the word Tagalog(Tagalog) came from. We owe a lot to rivers. But what happened? What are rivers now?

Rivers are disgraceful, dirty and smelly bodies of water..if we can still call them that. Or should I properly call them the urban not-so-comfortable comfort rooms? I mean, I was quietly observing the rivers in Manila that we passed by and I cannot help but to feel extremely angry. I especially blame the squatters. I mean, come on, it's enough that you're building your illegitimate homes on improper grounds but you just had to mess everything up. I'm sorry for the prejudice. I deeply apologize for the prejudice but if these people would just learn how to respect their vicinity then I could prolly spare them a bit of my respect too. They are extreme eyesores.


It's just sad how we kill the things that once gave us profound life.

And oh, while on the bus going to Manila, I saw these structures which say that they are 'Urban Face lifts,' a project of MMDA. I thought that they are more of urban cover-ups.

Not the biggest hypocrite.

After banging my head on the wall for nothing, I have come to realize how insignificant high school achievements are. I mean, come on. When you have these distinctions, you have them. What else is of importance to that? Is it another reason to brag and make others envy you? Is it a sign of superiority? I don't really know where I'm coming from. Maybe I'm just bitter or I'm just feeling lazy to study for the examinations. I don't know. Studying and bashing my head with lessons profusely isn't my thing. I miss my younger years when everything made sense easily; when I just had to listen to my teachers so I could remember the lessons. It's more complex now. And some teachers are just hard to juice out. But well, that's not the issue.

My shallow self.

I hate the fact that I never did learn to draw well. I miss being a kid. I would then draw a snake, ask people what it is, and if they guessed it right, I'd tell them that it's not a snake. It's a worm. Gah. I wish I could be all shallow like that right now. I need my innocence back. But what the hell, once you've lost it, it can never be brought back again right?
Okay. Back to the topic. Yeah. I never have been inclined to drawing. It requires an active part of the brain that I apparently lack. So therefore, my frustration intensified and I just gave up doing this comic strip for English. Come on. I know I've tried. I know I have tried my best to satisfy myself with what I draw but that seems like wishful thinking.
Gah. Why am I so not artistic? I don't know how to play a single instrument. I barely know how to draw. Gaaaah. Was I mutated as a kid or what?

No, this isn't what you think it is.

I used to love her. I used to know everything about her with little error when asked. I used to have a harmonious relationship with her. She used to be beautiful with her simplicity and vagueness.
What happened?
She became more and more complicated. The opinions and facts told by the people around her didn't help either. They just made things worse. They never did contribute to better understanding. They led to confusion. They destroyed my relationship with her. And now, I must suffer. I must suffer through life without knowing the formulas and solutions to her problems. I must suffer and be unmindful of how she works. I will go through every day becoming less inclined to her. She is Science. And I wish I never did lose touch with her.

I'm having one of those off nights again where I cannot stop but think about what the future has in store for me. Could I help it? It's only a few weeks til the UPCAT and I haven't even reviewed. I dunno. I get extremely nervous and I lack confidence but I never do take steps to ease this. It's kinda like a seasonal fruit, only bearing products if the time is right. Oh well. I'd have to surrender everything to.....to whom will I surrender it to? Lol. Same goes for ADMU AND DLSU. I am certainly losing hope for the two of you. So yeah, I may be saying hello to San Beda. -_-

Ugh.

He is in a mode of forgetfulness. He barely knows his subject-verb-agreement and is getting seriously injured. He doesn't know what to do. He has doubts; a lot of them.

Grammatically Incorrect(?)

Using big words(ones that are bigger than you) doesn't make you any superior. Is my grammar correct? Lol. 'Using big words' is a singular verb right so "doesn't" is applicable?

Oh my. Did I just type that? Gah. I always tend to question myself especially when it comes to my grammar, spelling and vocabulary. Must be the effect of the upcoming entrance tests or am I really just losing it?

To lose is to gain

Aldrin D. Pabello

Ateneo Application Number: 003292

To lose is to gain

I wished to paint vivid images of people, landscapes and sceneries that never cease to amaze people. I got a brush, some paint and a canvass. I dabbed and I rubbed the bristles that made up the contours of my painting tool. Just then, I saw what I painted. It was hideous. It was a mess. I reckoned that I just wasted my time. Frustration got the better of me. And so, I accepted the failure.

As I was contemplating; staring at my hideous painting and looking at how far it is from what I deemed it to be, I saw a pen. It kind of sparked as if making itself distinguishable among its blunt surroundings. I held it; its cold and lifeless form. The next thing I knew, I was writing. There was something about the pen being between my shaky but determined fingers. I was scribbling letters which slowly developed into words, phrases, sentences and eventually, paragraphs which made an impression of who I am with great consistency, fine substance and enlightenment. That was the start of an exploration of words, a new experience of self-expression and development. Writing became an outlet, ranging from silly random thoughts to serious social and political involvement. With writing, I became something. I became a writer; a journalist in my own right. I have become conscious of my thoughts and surroundings. I began to explore and venture out to gain experiences and scribble about them in my notepad and journals.

With writing, I was liberated and confined as well. My thoughts were freed; my worries with regards to communicating vanished. But with this liberation, I learned to confine myself too. I have learned to balance freedom of thoughts with the effects that it may impose to other people.  I have learned to position myself between holding back and still managing to write what I want to transpire. Sensitivity flourished therefore making me a man with a continuing search for what is right. I have long forgotten my biases and I have become a man of justice. The balance of the social weighing scale is dependent on our decisions. We shape what our country would be and with my writing, I hope that I could somehow be heard to make a potent contribution.

If it weren’t for this serendipitous discovery of my talent, I wouldn’t have such opinions that I can formulate now. I wouldn’t have dreamt of a better Philippines; one that respects and gives every citizen what he deserves. I wouldn’t have been politically and socially aware. I wouldn’t have visited the critical, logical and objective points of view. I would’ve been just another folk, shutting his mouth when he should’ve said something and sitting down when he should’ve stood up for himself and for others. I have transformed since I have stepped on the ladder of writing. But there is something more significant to me more than this unexpected passion.

I owe what I am today to what seems like a brick wall to everyone, blocking them from attaining what they strive for. I owe these gained values to what usually stops other people’s tracks, preventing them to move on. It may sound ironic but what made me and is continually making me slowly transform is failure.

It seems absurd to say that something which literally crushes dreams is what has made me who I am. For starters, my failure to paint made me discover other things like writing which became my heart’s desire.

Losing, declining, succumbing, misery and defeat. No matter how we put it, these will always sound negative and crushing. Yes, one’s failure may mean bitterness. It may mean depression. It may cause hopelessness. But it shouldn’t always be that way.

When we were kids, we walked and ran to rocky grounds not mindful of what may happen. And when we fail to keep our balance and we sometimes get scars, what happens after? We either plan to never walk these rocky grounds again or we instill every ounce of determination we could get to grace these roads as stronger and more courageous characters.

The way we look at our failures is a choice. We can either let our shortcomings eat us up until there isn’t any hope left or we can stay standing, enduring the defeat and making ourselves stronger and better persons in the process.

I have surrendered myself to failure like how clay is offered to a potter’s hand. I have always searched for a brighter side at every dark momentum. If there isn’t a bright side, I always do try to make one. The silver lining of the darkest clouds always shine upon me, leaving me in awe and inspiration.

Failure. It has never stopped me. It molded me into a growing pot, endlessly being of service to the people around me. It made me a pencil, being repetitively sharpened when my tip breaks and metaphorically erasing my faults and sins. It made me go on and it will continuously do.

The moment I stop failing is the time of my intangible death. I want to keep running, keep falling down, keep on learning and  keep on looking forward to what life has to offer, and I want to do these at the Ateneo.

Thirst.

My thirst for assurance is making me really unhealthy. My mind is oozing with thoughts now about how sure will my future be. I guess that this is another one of my endless ventures for no one can be too sure about their future.

It's not that easy. I know.

I always seem to rush my life. I always long to be independent, waking up in the morning with only I to bother myself, earning and spending my own money, making decisions of my own and facing the effects of these, and doing everything and anything I wanna do without limits. I wanna live life.
But of course, it's not that easy. Life isn't that perfect, is it? Not every fantasy comes true. Not every want, need and aspiration can be yours. Not everything can be achieved.
Waking up in the morning without anyone bothering would make me feel empty. Earning and spending my own money has its own woes too. Budgeting, saving, priorities. Making decisions of your own is just tough; a second opinion would always be needed and you can't always reach those who can guide you well. A limitless life would just be too tempting. It would be too liberal, too loose and extremely prone to failure.

I guess I'm not ready yet. Who is? Even the most prepared, when times comes, fail. Even the most well-planned and organized tend to be ruined by circumstances. Even those little things which seem to have no margin for errors, are in fact, at times, full of ridicule.

As much as I want to, I have to face it. I have to wait. I have to get myself trained and ready, for when the time comes that I'd want to be free, I wouldn't want to cry out in pain, wishing to be back to my plain, dependent life again.

Unclogging

A few things we take for granted:

• How good it feels to fart at the comfort of our own homes. I mean, come on. Who wants to hold it in because someone might hear or something, right?
• The far level of comfort of bathrooms in our own house compared to public restrooms. It always gets awkward there and probably insanitary too, depending on the location.
• Hot milk/chocolate during cold weathers like this past few days. 
• A warm hug.
• A quiet afternoon at home, glancing at the window, looking at random people.
• People-watching. 
• Being barefoot.

Unclear

Cold and windy, dark and gloomy. Basically, I don't like the fact that the sun gets too much attention so yeah, I am partying at the thought of this wonderful weather. Aside from the hot weather making me red as a tomato and sweat like hell, the UV rays are slowly deteriorating anything that it could deteriorate. Whoa. What did I just say? Okay. My writing and way of thinking is pretty rusty so forgive me.
I shall stop now. Hayst. I am still procrastinating my Ateneo essay. I don't know how to make it the best damn thing that could make me stand out. -_-

Sorry, my dear buddy. I am rather hyperactive today. I just want to show/link to you what I did this summer. The link summarizes everything. BTW, I made the articles at the last page.

Draftie Din

"Ako ay Nauuhaw"

Hello again, my friend. Don't you find it funny how I just posted something a minute ago and now I'm back? That's how I missed you. Oh well. Moving on.

Yesterday, we were asked to make an essay based on the title "Ako ay Nauuhaw." I never thought about it at first but when I started to scribble, I felt like there was a closed part of me, slowly opening.

Thirst. Sometimes, we use laughter, joking and teasing others as an alternative to cover up our feeling. But believe me, it will come to a point where we have laughed all there is to laughed about. Sometimes, there will come a point where our symbolic throats couldn't take the coarseness anymore and we'll have to replenish. But we must remember that there will be a thirst that couldn't simply be lifted through drinking no matter how strong that drink could be.
The emotional thirst is the most lethal of its kind. It sucks the life out of anything that comes in its way. No matter how we try to juice it up, it could never absorb if given the wrong treatment. Emotional thirst asks a very distinct medicine from us and it is knowledge. What kind of knowledge then? Knowledge of one's self. We need to know what we are, who we are and what we want in order to fully understand. As said, it is the hardest to judge yourself.

Hayst. Sorry to cut you short, my little friend, but I ran out of words because the paper we did was in Filipino. :D Okay, friend? Let me go then.

Renaissance

Hello my little friend. I have longed for your presence. I need you in this time of journalistic incompetence. I need you to guide me, since to you, my friend, I express without limits and liberally. You know what, friend? I am already applying for the school of my biggest and most revered dream. I apparently need to make an essay and without you, my friend, I could not do it. I have noticed how my expressive level has sunken ever since we parted ways. But hey, my friend, I am back. And I am sorry for ever leaving you. I do not know why I do the things that I did but what the hell, at least I am back. I have a plan, my friend. Be on your guard when I would suddenly blurt out words that are of great relevance. I need them. I need to revive the writer in me. I need to awaken my genuine writing style. I need to rediscover myself.

By the way friend, I am doing alright thanks to X-Reverence. There's never a dull moment. And friend, I have changed in a lot of ways that I couldn't have imagined. I am now a constant loner. I may be seen around with a few people every now and then but I am still a loner inside. I do not know how to connect and open up this changed set of mind. I hope you can help me, my good friend. I must go now. Wait for me next time, won't you?


Your long lost friend,
Aldrin. :D

Great Fail of China.

I was randomly checking my twitter account when I stumbled upon a random tweet by OMGFacts which said 'no, the Great Wall of China cannot be seen from outer space.' Apparently, this thought dates back to 1938 when no one has actually gone out of the Earth yet.

It's just amazing how sometimes, what we truly believe in with conviction would just be unproven. It'll make you doubt about your other beliefs. It will definitely leave you in confusion. Sometimes, it will orphan you, scraping off what you think is right.

But then again, it's these things that open up our ways of thinking, making them flexible. Yes, at first you will be in deniable. But we all go through that phase. Some can let go of a belief so easily, like a liberty-hungry bird escaping from the grills of oppression and some will cling onto it until their last efforts are drained. It is normal. But afterwards, what do we get?

After feeling emptiness as you lose a belief, you will have more room for better things to believe in. And that is a cycle, every lost belief being replaced by a better one.

I guess I'm losing the writer's block.

Flex

I can change my mind, can't I?

What most people cannot get their minds over with is how some people like me, constantly change the way I/we think. We are helpless. Some words or expressions are mere products of what our present moods are and those moods are depending on our current states. So seriously, flexibility is the term, my good friends. FLEXIBILITY.

I don't know why this suddenly popped out of my twisted mind. I was going to Tweet it but then, I felt like it deserved a blog. And since I haven't blogged much, I decided to go for it.

I guess I'm slowly recovering from writer's block. I hope it continues.

My first..and prolly the last blog with photos.

Today, we had our digital photography session as part of the journalism summer workshop and I must say that never in a million years would I become a photog. I really suck. So really, for genuine photogs, I seriously apologize for the possibility of insult to your art. Sorry.

(Oh no, the quality is ruined. Stupid web format thingys for pics and stupid Sony crappyshot cam.)


But, what the hell, I discovered my love for rusty things.

And somehow, not-so-rusty things also caught my attention.

And yeah, colorful flowers too.

And some leaves too.

And lastly, I vow never to engage in activities connected to these pictures:

So much for posting pictures. My camera sucks and so do I!

As orange as a pumpkin.

Okay. I know, this isn't really what normal 15-year olds blog about but what the hell, I cannot stand this issue.

Manny Villar, I am sure that everyone has seen and are aware about your infomercials, endorsers, endorsements and your ticket mates. I am sure that everyone has watched how your mom and sister blurted out their emotions about what is happening to you. They even blamed and mentioned ABS-CBN and GMA7, right? Well, seriously, why blame the media? Why use your mom to get the pity of the people? Your mom is old for crying out loud! She has reached her prime years already. Why give her this stress? We've had enough of your gimmicks. We've had enough of how you are exploiting the fact that you were once poor. We're had enough of that! We are ticked! We are annoyed! And about your sister saying that ABSCBN and GMA7 is being harsh to you..They're mediamen! They're media practitioners. They are helpless to give the people what is circulating, may they be facts or just simple rumors. Why pinpoint them for doing a good job about exposing what frauds and issues are thrown to you? You, your sister and mom should freaking understand that if you want a silent, issue-free life then you shouldn't have entered politics in the first place. Issues will always be there. Have you ever thought that while you and your ticketmates are throwing bad things about other candidates, Karma is just around trying to get back at you? Think Manny. You are like a kid, writing at other people's walls for them to get blamed for it. And then  you will scream and cry and beg for your pity from your mommy, cleaning yourself. up. Come on. Seriously, Get a life.

iTouch dilemma.

The  "iTouch," it doesn't last forever. Nor will it forever have its glow. So, as early as now, I want a refund. I just don't know how to start and face it.

Of course, the iTouch is a metaphor.

Nobody said it was easy.

Currently listening to Transatlanticism right now. (next on the playlist, The Scientist)

It all seems so redundant. Sad and depressed person listening to  even more depressing and saddening songs. I feel so heavy right now. BTW, don't be surprised if I flood my blogsite with these. It's just a cycle.

Aldrin works a little harder. Aldrin hopes. Aldrin dreams. Aldrin fails. Aldrin  gets depressed. Aldrin falls down. People come to get Aldrin. They physically bring him up but nothing could really bring him up on the inside. Because it is only him who could bring him up from the inside but is too weak to do so. :(

Number 13, I hate you.

It struck me suddenly.
I cannot believe how 1 text message could've changed my mood all of a sudden. I just found out that I'm freaking 13th. Okay, I honestly cannot blame anyone but myself. It was me who did this. I know  could've prevented it but that is a choice that I didn't make.

And now, I feel like I'm covered with loser slime, slowly oozing through my system and filling me with disgust and dishonor.

Where are you, sunshine? :(

This is why I wouldn't buy an iTouch

Aside from the fact that I couldn't really afford one, usually, the things that we long for, when they become our possession, will not seem worthy of our previous urge to have them. I mean, getting something you thought you want and seeing its flaws, will only disappoint you. It happens no matter how great the thing you bought might be; no matter how trusted its developer is. It will have its flaws and it will disappoint you.

Some things are way better to be window-shopped rather than to be literally bought.

Maybe we should blame it on consumerism and how it has negatively shaped our frames of mind.

Teacher Mugging 101

Before mugging a teacher, make sure that the following factors are present:

[X]-signifies applicability to the criteria.

[X]1-Your teacher is on the wrong side meaning, you're the right one. 

[   ]2-You will say it in the most respectful way(in my case, due to adrenaline rush and rage, didn't look so respectful)

[X]3-You have enough proof that you're side is correct.

[X]4-You have friends or classmates who can back you up with other proofs.

[X][X][X]5-Your teacher is completely and utterly annoying.

[X]6-You won't regret anything that you have said.

Okay. now, let's get to the story.

There has been a recent conflict with a certain teacher (of a really irrelevant subject that unfortunately, makes up a third of our G.A., according to peers) about his requirements. He claims that we are required to submit our monthly journals starting from 2nd to the present quarter. Well, the fact is, THERE IS NO MONTHLY JOURNAL, only a QUARTERLY one. So, at first I didn't give it much importance. What made me furious was the fact that when some of my classmates are explaining that our journals were quarterly, not monthly, he didn't understand. He said that we're only claiming that our journals were quarterly, to fool him and ease our burdens. And now, that, that made my blood rush to my hot head, boiling it, making my face turn read, and forcing me to stand up and use my right to speak.

So, as I raised my hand and stood up, I was trembling but I tried my best to look strong. I was starting to speak when he always interrupted. He told me to go straight to the point. I was like, how could I when you keep on interrupting me?*though twas only in my head. So, then, I started to speak again . 

Sir, ganto po. Hindi naman kami nagrereklamo. Gagawin naman namin yan. Ang punto ko lang, gusto kong iclear out na quarterly ang binigay niyong journals.

I can't exactly remember what I said but that was my point. And then, he started off speaking again about how we are only doing this because we're finding reasons to ease our hardship by claiming him wrong. He told us that we were PLASTICS.

And I said, excuse me sir, with all due respect.........

And  never got to finish my statement as he overpowered me.

And as the tension was growing, I sat down. My friend also gave her point. She cried, defending herself. 

And then, our teacher(if he deserves to be called one),  told us that he doesn't want that kind of tension. Then, he left. Okay. Until now, I am still furious. He goes around grade 9 sections telling the story that someone told him, excuse me sir, and he responded with excuse me too, Mr...... 

And I have also heard how he told his advisory class that I was rude. How could defending yourself in the most respectful way you can, be considered as rude? I, for one, am not rude. I am just someone who knows how to say my opinion when I know that I am right. 

The situation is just unfair. Him being the teacher with greater authority than me. Of course, he's more powerful even if his salary only comes from us. 

And another heartache of mine is that the other sections just allow him to do that. They do not fight. Only the people in our section spoke up, which gave him a reason to single us out. He now claims that he will give us additional requirements. 

And therefore, I conclude that students are at the bottom of the curricular food chain. And I conclude more, that students who fight for their right, are under those who let the teachers step on them. 

I was wrong to pay respects to someone who doesn't deserve it. I was wrong being professional to people who are extremely unprofessional. 

And therefore, I am toast. 

Til my next post(hopefully the next one would be better),

-firstclassahole

I suddenly had a goal shift. I don't aim to be at the honor list anymore. I just aim to have high grades. Yes, I lowered my self expectations.
Maybe this sudden goal shift is due to my laziness in reviewing for the Music exams tomorrow.

HUMANITY

I am not a robot though as of this moment, I would like to be one. Unfortunately, fate is cruel so I am human.

A human who gets tired and will not just regain energy through a few hours of charging.
A human who does not only need physical rest but also mental.
A human who has feelings.
A human who complains because he does not get enough incentives or positive feedback after hard labor.
A human who is bossed around by other humans who think that we are inferior in social state but are superior in energy and physical activities.
A human who is expected to accomplish the almost impossible in just a flash.



And the latest: A human who has to make a movie, a 30by30 portable Cartesian plane, study, accomplish IWs prepare for the clearance time and get ready for the other battles that may come ahead.



Sincerely yours,
Aldrin, A human. A really tired one.

Hating.

Do you think hating is bad? I think, keeping your hate and trying to cover it up with something fake is worse.


Wow, it's Ash Wednesday and I'm blogging about hating.


Anyways, going back, if we hate things, it only means that we refine them. We refine the things that we like. It will just go to show that we have taste. We don't just conform to whatever is the trend. We let our real feelings be heard. Come on, liking everything, liking everything that comes out as a trend or a person or someone famous, is pathetic. We are different so we tend to clash and sometimes these differences become more significant than one could handle. 


Anyways, I still have a lot of problems. The RomeoNJuliet movie project tops my list. With this and more, I could never be so anxious for this school year to end. 


Come on Aldrin, hold on. Hold on for not more than two months.
And then, hold tighter for 10 new/last months of HS.

Yearns.

I had been busting my ass off planning for this movie project for English and it appears to be not worth the exhaustion.
Getting sick would now be a blessing. I am just yearning, begging, for rest! I need it. My body needs it. My mind needs it. So, why not give it to me? Come on.
I know, we only have a few weeks left of school but I am not sure if I could survive that. I am constantly in search of things to look forward to and my only thought now is SUMMER. Though summer is not that fun either, at least I wouldn't be this tired. I am planning to study this summer too. I am really anticipating college entrance tests. This is my way of coping up with my fear of failure. What if I get all the Math parts wrong? What if I don't get accepted by the school that I dream of? What if....?What if......?  
:(

Golden Blog.

It's my fiftieth post here.

Wow. I remember my first blog in Multiply, it was full of cheeziness and immaturity.

Maybe it is now time for me to open up on a lot of things that I haven't blogged about but are really blogsworthy.

So, last January 27-28, we had our two-day youth encounter where we are supposed to sleep, eat and be transformed in the Ecological Park of the school.

First, God. God, you know that I always kept you out of my sight. Yes, I pray but not with great conviction.

But when we had our Youth Encounter and had our activity where we will look for a place in nature to talk to Him, he showed me how he loves me.

At first, I was wondering how He would do it. How? Would it be like there's a voice in your head? Would it be in my conscience? And just thinking about this, I walked and walked and roamed the Eco Park where there weren't too many people.

And then a dried leaf caught my attention. (When we were asked to get something that represented ourselves, I used a dried leaf. Okay, this is a different topic. Moving on......) That dried leaf was covered with spiderwebs and even if it's all whithered, it still clings to the tree.  I felt that God was trying to tell me that I am that leaf, that sometimes, I feel bad and rotten and useless, but then again, He still wants me to strive to cling onto the tree which may represent my goals.

And after that, the next thing that caught my attention was those insects that glide through the water. As they glide, they make waves. Some are large waves with large impacts and some are minimal. I just thought, we are like those insects. As we glide through the waters of life, we unconsciously make waves that have different levels of impact on others. This should make us keep an eye out. We are not the only ones gliding through life's waters.

And lastly, the one that really got me was when I suddenly looked up the sky and saw three doves flying together. <3


Second, parents. This got me to tears which is a really rare thing for me. I find it hard to trigger my tears. I don't know why. Sometimes, I just wanna cry my heart out but for an unknown reason, I can't.
Okay, going back. The lights were turned off and only candles lit the room. Sir Rey Rodil was uttering words about our parents like recalling our mistakes, how bad we are, how we do not appreciate our parents and hurting but helping words. Most of the people in the class were very emotional. Almost all of our weak spots are our parents. Oftentimes, we lie to them. We do not consider their hard work just for us to study. We hurt them and forget to realize the big sacrifices that they make for us, to build a better future.

Third, classmates. While the atmosphere was getting so filled with emotion, with the light off and we're all crying, holding Jesus' cross in the middle of the session hall. Sir Rodil then asked us to approach and touch the shoulder of my classmates who need most of our attention and love. He then asked us to approach everyone who touched us and not have touched us yet; to approach those whom we have hurt and fix our relationships. I really felt loved, which I always longed for. <3




There are still a lot of events to  update on but I think I'll settle for this now. Maybe I'll wrap it up in some other update.

BTW, my dad's getting his eye fixed tomorrow. He'll have surgery because of his cataract. Please do pray for him. I shall go with him tomorrow to MakatiMed.


That's all for now. Tune in next time.
-Aldrin.

I am a painter.

A sudden inspiraton.

While chatting with "someone" who always pulls the trigger in releasing my stress, I thought of these words:

I am a painter. The paper is my canvas and my pen is my paintbrush.
***
And then I thought of changing my page title and description so I added:

I paint masterpieces using the right colors and blend of words. I get inspiration and lose it too. But eventually, I regain it through the people around me and through God. I hope you shall view my page like walking in a exhibit. Every painting is different from another-with different themes and moods.

--

Coloring your online experience,

Aldrin.

My Winning Essay(Braggy much)

Last January 23, God made a way to boost my self esteem once more. He gave me another merit. I won first place in UP Oroquieta Essay Writing Competition. Yssa bagged the second place. :)

So, since I cannot write well and am having a writer's block, I'll leave you guys with the essay I made. It's about politics. Yeah. It might bore you, BEWARE BEWARE READ WITH CARE. Lol.

Theme: Transforming the Philippine Political Landscape Through Election Propagandas

Our needed direction is a blur. Our needed guidance is non-existent. In attaining our goals of nationalism, we fall down and drown in a sea of political turmoil. We are enveloped in a seemingly endless venture for political stability and transparency. Thus, we we entangled by the merciless nets of struggle and fenced by the limitations of our own leaders.Our government is a marketplace-with people bargaining and fighting to get ahead of others. If you do not know how to talk graft and corruption, you don't stand a chance.

We are tired of people who use the immoral shortcut rather than the righteous detour. Saying that our political state is a whirlwind of confusion is an understatement. Nevertheless, these downers only fuel the Filipinos' burning desire for transformation. And the nearing Elections is our chance to once again reshape our country, our future and our lives.

The echo of the call of the Elections transpire through us saying that we will start the change, we will be the transformation that we want to see within ourselves. We clearly see the urgency for new leaders and for reformation. We would no longer be silenced by those in power. Hence, we would be stronger in defending justice.

With out technological advancement today, reposting fallacies and problems can be done at a touch of a button. Together with the media, the church and concerned groups, we are starting to build a revolution, exposing every malicious event. Many groups are now promoting awareness and knowledge on how to choose the deserving candidates  This awareness makes us keep an eye out and think.

"Ako ang Simula ng Pagbabago," an excerpt from a propaganda of one of the leading media corporations in the country. The promotion to register as vote patrollers came out as a big hit which only proves how we are fed up with the current running of the country.

The youth's voice which were once kept closed are now out in the open because of the propagandas. They are now starting o prove what our national hero said. We really are the country's hope. We will decide whether we'll leave it in constant repercussions brought about by mismanagement or we will stand up. Stand up against poverty. Stand up against graft and corruption. Stand up for the love of our country. Stand up for nationalism. And if we will stand up, we shall do it with great conviction to grab recognition. Behind our eyelids are eyes that envision a progressive and booming Philippines.

The truth-it shall be prevail. Justice-it shall transpire. Transformation-it shall be felt. Nothing or no one would ever pick us up from our situation but ourselves. We can never be too late to shout for our rights; shout for our own good and shout for political transparency. And if the Election propagandas will succeed, we will see our perseverance pay off. We shall see our forefathers' dreams of a better Philippines come to life.

To the unaware;

Just a few hours ago, we were having our evaluation and my classmates where complaining about a certain teacher of ours.
They were complaining that they were always scolded, always getting low grades and are continuously confused with the subject that he is teaching.

 Yes, he does teach a little too fast. This is a challenge. If he teaches too fast then have the initiative to make extra efforts for you to be able to understand.

Yes, he follows the rules and regulations of the school too much, but isn't that a good thing? It really isn't his choice to scold my classmates. Who would? They are the ones who give him reasons to scold them. So, my classmates do not have the right to get mad right back. They know so well what the wrong things are.

Yes, he doesn't give high grades. But this is because he is TRUE. He is true. What we show him, he records it.


I had all of these things in mind when they were throwing their complaints and telling our adviser.




BTW, I recently cannot express myself well. Sorry. Baka may wrong grammar pa jan.

I will do better with relaxation,
Aldrin.

Fed up

I cannot express my thoughts well. There's something wrong with me. I had typed two drafts already and never settled for them. Sorry followers, I am just overfilled with annoyance and madness that it is slowly consuming me. Give me time to rest and maybe, I shall be inspired.

I really have a lot to share here but I recently do not have the time and right mood. Meanwhile, I would just like to share this corny story which I made and included in my novel.


Once, she told him a story about two turtles.
Their mothers laid their eggs on the same beach and with nests beside each other. When it was hatching time, a male turtle lost his way and was going the opposite direction from the water. The female turtle was almost in the water when she saw him getting lost. She went back and helped the male turtle to reach the sea. While helping him, her shell was slightly scratched which left a permanent mark.
“Thank you. You have touched me and I will never forget you. Goo. .” The male turtle was trying to say goodbye but the female turtle stopped him.
“Don’t say goodbye. If you say goodbye, it means that you accept the fact that we will not see each other again. Say, see you later so that it may happen.”
So the male turtle said see you later and they were drifted into different directions. When they reached maturity, the male turtle was staring at a coral reef when he was distracted by a sudden wave near him. He looked and saw a female turtle. He had this sensation and feeling that he has seen her before.
The female turtle told him to look at her back and he saw the scratch. He must’ve cried if it was possible.



Yes, as I said, corny. It was only written to put more meat to my novel.

Tayerd.

I'm tired of failing.
I'm tired of exerting effort and still failing.
I'm tired of people being better than me.
I'm tired of fighting.
I'm tired of proving things to people.

Another downer.

How could I jump 6 big, whole points down in Chemistry?

F*ck the periodic table! Screw it!

Taga-Ilog.

Kaya naman tayo ay napapagiwanan eh.

Ngayon, ako ay gagamit ng ating wikang minana pa sa ating mga ninuno upang mas maayos na maipahayag ang aking nararamdaman.

Sa kasalukuyan ay naghahanda kami para sa Speech Choir at syempre, ako ang leader dahil kung hindi ka pa magkukusa ay wala namang mangyayari.

Naandito ang mga dahilan kung bakit tayo napapagiwanan, hindi lamang sa paaralan kundi sumasaklaw ang mga ito sa kasuluk-sulukan na may taong nakatira.

**Ginagawa nating kumplikado ang mga simpleng bagay.
Halimbawa na rito ang pagkanta sa tuwing ang ating bandila ay itinataas. Kung tumatayo na lamang tayo nang maayos at kumakanta ng walang bahid ng kaartehan, TAPOS! Wala atyong problema, hindi tayo mapapaulit at hindi tayo mabibilad sa araw.

**Madaming magandang batas subalit hindi naisasagawa nang ayos
Oo, maraming batas, maraming magandang batas. Subalit, hindi naman ito nasusunod nang maayos. Bakit? Dalawa lang naman ang nakaapekto niyan eh-ang mga taong susunod sa batas at mga taong nagbabantay ng batas. Kapag ang isa ay pumalya, kahit pa anong ganda niyan, itsepwera lang yan. Wala din.

**Hindi tayo maalam makinig.
Nilikha tayo ng Diyos nang may tenga upang makarinig. Ang tenga ay mas mataas ang pwesto kaysa sa bibig na maaaring nangangahulugan na ang pakikinig ay mas mayroong kapasidad na makatulong kesa sa puro salita. Hindi ko naman sinasabi na masama magsalita. Ang sa akin lang, gaya ng lahat ng bagay, may tamang oras para sa pagsasalita at tamang oras ng pakikinig.

**Mareklamo tayo
Ang hindi lang kasi maitatak sa utak ng mga kaklase ko habang sila ay tinuturuan ng Speech Choir ay ang katotohanan na pare-pareho kaming pagod. Pare-pareho lamang kaming nahihirapan. At nasa sa amin din yon kung hahayaan naming madala kami ng pagod o ng aming determinasyon na manalo(o kahit huwag lamang mapahiya).
At isa pa, minsan may mga taong nagrereklamo sa isinasagawa natin subalit wala naman silang maimungkahi na iba pang gawin.



Sana ay hindi kayo inantok dito sa aking munting latlahain.
Hanggang sa susunod,
Aldrin

I went this far

Alright, I'd post my unfinished novel here so that I could get prejudged early.

Chapter 1-Planning a Crime

September 28^th… September 29^th…  September 30^th…

The days went swiftly for Adam Fleet, an ordinary folk of Friar town. Working as a university professor in Accountancy, he gets to encounter varieties of personalities, traits, moods and characters.  But one thing shook him and forever changed his way of thinking; one act that left him in bitterness, causing his future demise and turmoil.

He was hungry for vengeance and all he needed was to wait for the right time and chance. He planned this strategically for months until the right time came.

It was October, cold winds and scattered rains filled the days which gives the people of Friar town a gloomy feel. 

It was October, the sun showed itself late in the morning and it hid early in the evening, making the nights longer. More room for faintness, less for light.

It was October, a month of gloom, of darkness and of an eventual death.

***

Adam stopped teaching for a semester and spent his time watching Mr. Reen’s actions diligently until he got an idea of his routines. He found out that gentleman wakes up at around 5 in the morning and leaves his house bound for his business establishment 30 minutes later. He then goes home for lunch. That is an opening for anyone who wants to kill him since his wife and kids are out during this time. He stays in their house for 1 hour and usually takes short naps. He watched this for a week, with his two eyes open, sensitive to every detail of Reen’s actions. He did this trying to be as conspicuous as possible and enduring how hard it is to see the man who destroyed him and his dream and caused his life’s failures.

That was enough detail for him. He started to lay his plan.

Adam stood up from his chair and went to his room. His heart beats at a really fast rate and he feels great weight in his chest. He shrugged this off and stared at himself in the mirror.

“Aha, look at you. You little handsome man. You will not allow anyone to get away with destroying you.

“You are strong. You have the makings of a great murderer. One who wouldn’t be known not because he sucked but because of being so secretive and being ‘clean’ in his murderous acts.” He uttered this with great determination and went off a great loud laugh with his deep, manly voice.

He then walks towards his desk, gets a pencil and brown envelope containing papers waiting to be filled with words of his morbid plan.

He starts writing.

I was a well established human being living with my wife for one year. I was a candidate for being the next dean. I was living my life the way I planned it. And Gregor Motley Reen destroyed it. And now, I must destroy him in return. But unlike what he did to me, I would not give him a chance to get back on his feet.

No cry will be heard. No sob will be entertained. No, nothi. . .

His writing was interrupted as the pencil broke with the hard pressure that he inflicts on it. His anger. No, not just anger. His fury, his rage, all felt while writing the document. He then  stands up and gets a knife to re-sharpen the broken writing tool.

It was October. Cold. Morbid. The cold breeze makes everyone shiver like little wet cats under the horizon.

Chapter 2-The Victim, An Old Friend.

Mr. Gregor Reen, more commonly known as Greg by his colleagues, is a well respected businessman. He has been running his construction supplies business ever since he graduated from college.

He graduated at the University of Friar with a bachelor’s degree in Business Administration. He was not the best student but wasn’t the worse either. He has his fair share of ups and downs, flaws and mistakes and imperfections too.

Gregor Reen and Adam Fleet first crossed paths as he became his student in his second year of studying.

Reen was reading a novel in the hallway while waiting for class when Mr. Fleet noticed him. No, they did not have the usual rough start between opposing forces. They actually acquainted quite well.

“And you are?” Adam said, intrigued by the boy’s different aura.

 Greg turned his head upwards to see who asks for his name.

“Gregor Reen, 2^nd year Business Administration student,” he responds, unaware that he is talking to his Accountancy professor.

“What are you reading?”

“I’m reading Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coelho.”

“That is one of the most inspiring books I’ve ever read with mature content. Well, hope to see you in class, Mr. Reen. Have a good day.” Adam said in a convincing manner, perhaps in an effort to persuade.

“Thank you. I know, my friend lent me this book and told me how it inspired him too. See you Professor Fleet,” Greg said, shaking his hand.

***

The both of them felt comfortable with each other after a semester. Greg excelled in the subject as he was a natural at arithmetic. Adam enjoyed having him as a student. They shared the same interests in books, novel authors and principles.

During off days, they would spend time smoking and drinking boos. In fact, when the two have great problems, they’d try to escape it for a while through nature trips. A father-son relationship best describes what they have.

Chapter 3-Shoulder to Lean on

Once, Greg ran away from their house after being almost beaten by his dad.

“You little mischievous brat. . . Where did you put the money?” His dad, now furious, is pointing at his mom violently.

“I said I didn’t take it.” His mom is now crying.

He interferes. “If you really love my mom, trust her. Make sure your allegations are correct! And why would she bother getting the money without telling you?” He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Money is just money. It can be earned again. But a loving family, one with understanding, it is priceless. Nothing could ever replace it.” He added as he shakes.

His dad grabbed him by the neck. They both look at each other in the eye and as he sees his dad’s knuckles approaching his head, he lets loose of the grab and runs as fast as he can.

At that time, he doesn’t have anything in his mind except to escape his furious dad. He ran until he felt that his dad was too far to get him. He ran as if he was going to be eaten by hungry lions.

He looked at his cell phone and the first thing that came into his mind is to text his teacher who he treats like a father.

Adam didn’t fail Greg. He welcomed him with great acceptance and they drank the night away.

Adam was not the orthodox professional. When he’s outside the school, he allows his students to jam with him and just have a great time. This may be due to his youth still intact within him. This earns him the respect of many, making him popular and the desire of every accountancy, business, marketing or management pupil to be his student.

Adam treated Greg specially. He doesn’t tell him but Greg reminds him of himself way back when he was in his early teens. He saw something special from the boy. With this, they shared a bond but he still keeps his professionalism when they are at school.

Chapter 4-Laying the Plan

..No, nothing. He will lay a cold body, one with a far cry from justice. Justice. Justice that will never be served.

He continues to write.

Now that I have observed Gregor Reen’s actions, it is time to lay the plan. It is time for me to taste sweet vengeance.

Vengeance is only sweet if you’re the one seeking it. I’d rather flood myself in its sweetness than to be in bitter righteousness. No more mercy. No more.

At around 1 in the afternoon, when the coast is clear, I shall enter his house without showing any clues of my dark plan. I shall pretend that I am there because I want to tie up loose ends with him. I would also ask him about what his life has become since we parted ways. I’ll pretend to be interested and keep the despise I feel inside.

I will let him fall into my trap as what he did with me. I will let him feel the hurt.

I. . . I. . .

He stops writing as he sips four glasses of his favorite wine. He feels every drop, the arousing satisfaction, the heat, contrasting with the cold October winds. After feeling satisfied, he continues.

When he is trapped into my little trick, I shall take my gun and show it to him. I know his initial reaction would be that I am just tricking him. That’s how we treat each other. We mess around. But I’m done messing around with him. No more Mister Nice Guy. No more Mr. Shoulder to Lean On. No more.

I shall play loud music first with whatever he has available. And then shoot. He will lie a lifeless body with no chance of fixing himself. No second chance.

And he lets loose a laugh that seems to be forcing its way out of him.

But of course, I am a wise man. I know that I shall make things clean though it will be really easy since Friar town doesn’t have experts in forensics. I will keep my hands off everything. I’ll have my hair shaved off to avoid leaving any. And after I shoot him, I will pour Muriatic Acid to erase any evidence thoroughly.

No one will suspect that I did it. And justice shall not be prevalent. Well, actually, it will. It is just since he destroyed my totality. And this is the justice I need.

                                    Chapter 5-The Everest

Greg Reen’s father brought home a brand new Ford Everest car. He was already close to Adam Fleet back then. So once he decided to borrow his dad’s new ride. Excited as he was, his father refused saying that he might not be used to the car yet. But Greg insisted and when his father went out, he sneaked the car.

He nervously opened their garage door.

“Shoot.”

He exclaimed to himself, annoyed by the parking position of the car. It was hard for him to drive it backwards for it to be out of the garage but still, he has this nagging feeling to still continue.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

He inserted the key, turned it to the right and then revved up the engine.

“Brrrrmmm. Brrrrrmmmmm.” It growled. He nervously shifted the gear to reverse and moved the vehicle slowly.

Due to his nervousness, he went a bit too fast and scratched the back-left portion of the car and also damaged a few pots near the garage.

He shouted loud profanities, expressing his deep and negative feeling on what he is doing.

He was almost shaking when he told himself that he shall continue because the damage has been done and he just wants to make the most out of it.

He picked up a friend from a nearby village and saw Adam hanging around. He approached them and said,

“Hey, what happened to your ride?”

“Uhmmm. Ahhhhh.” He really couldn’t find the right words and was Adam said,

“Lemme guess. You sneaked it out and scratched it?”

“Oh sir, I mean Adam.” He laughed. The professor always told him to call him by his first name when outside the campus. “Yeah, I sure did. And now, I’m just making the most out of this damage. So, there.”

“Can you gimme a ride? I’ll pay you back by helping you with the paint job but promise me one thing. .”

“Sure.” He almost shouted in delight. “What’s the condition?”

“Well, you need to confess to your dad what you did even if the damage is unnoticeable after my help.”

“But ahmm. Why? What you don’t know won’t hurt you. Haven’t you heard that saying before?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that dude. But have you heard the response to that?”

“Well, actually not. Come and tell me about it while I give you a lift.”

Adam gets into the car, starts to make himself comfortable and then speaks while Greg starts to drive again.

“Yes, what you don’t know won’t hurt you. But, it’s only good until you find out. Keep that in mind dude. You can always get through mischief but you should not forget the repercussions of your actions.”

“Wow.” That was all he was able to say. It surprised him and also his friend. And it made them think.

That was the first non-academic lesson he learned from Mr. Adam Fleet.

Mr. Adam then told him to drive to a car-painting job where his friend works. The paint job was so successful that there was no real mark that he sneaked the car and damaged it. And as promised, Adam paid for it with the condition that Greg will confess to his father.

Chapter 6-Repercussions

“Dad.” Greg approached his father, obviously scared at what he might throw at him.

“I know what you did. You sneaked out the car.” His dad said in a flat, emotionless tone.

“Dad, I have to be honest with you.” He is turning pale with the anxiety that he feels. “While sneaking it out, I kind of scratched the back part. . “ He was speaking fast so that his dad wouldn’t interrupt but surprisingly, he really didn’t. “and, I got it fixed and it doesn’t look damaged now. I’m really sorry, Dad. I know how wrong I am.”

He was almost in tears when his dad hugged him and the hardness he felt on his chest was released. His father seldom hugged him as he was distant from him.

“Son, we could not do anything anymore. What matters is, you did what you needed to and you faced the music of your action. I’m glad you’re starting to grow up.”

Their mother joined the hugging and the family felt so bonded like never before. When we really become honest and we clear our conscience, things go better.

He now realized why Mr. Fleet did the task. This strengthened his love for him as a father.

After the confession and hugging, the Reen family had a great dinner which was filled with love for one another. They forgot their recent quarrels about nagging problems and they just let love flourish.

***

Greg was deeply moved by this that he decided to pay Adam back for the goodness.

He wrote a letter, which he almost never does.

Dear Mr. Fleet,

Thank you for the advice that you have given me. I have never felt this happy with my family before all thanks to your advice…………..

Greg stops writing and decides to just use another method of thanksgiving, thinking that a letter would be too mushy.

While watching the television, he was a new calculator with natural display which can compute the most complicated of mathematical and logical problems. 

“This is perfect,’ he thought. Mr. Fleet could really use a calculator like that since he still computes some problems manually which require so much time. It will aid him in teaching.

. . .Not 7,000, not 5, 000 pesos. It only costs 3,999 pesos. He heard from the TV Shopping Channel with the usual hyperactive tone of promo-disers.

Now, this is his problem. He only has a thousand and five hundred pesos left from his allowance. He is still mere 2500 short. So, he decides to start a racket to raise money. He really didn’t think of giving anything less to his professor. He felt that the calculator was the perfect choice.

He had to work part time at a local fast food chain for a week to earn the money. Though he wasn’t that inclined and used to working, he insisted as he was really determined to pay the professor back.

Chapter 7-The Time for Crime

It was like any other day in October in Friar Town. The mornings were foggy and freezing and everyone seems to be enjoying this. Greg is one of them, sipping his morning cup innocently, without knowing what was in it for him.

Meanwhile, Adam’s scenario could never be more different. He was hot and steaming with anger, a contrast from the said weather. He was never hungry for food but for vengeance and getting even. He looked at himself in the mirror and shouted,

“This is the day. This is my day.”

He sternly squeezed a little fly which passed onto his face and again, spoke,

“Gregor Reen, you shall be like a little fly who passed through me, looking harmless, yet being so damaging. And again, like this little fly, you shall perish. And perish with no second chances.”