“The fairest thing in the world…

is the sun.”

So the line in the 2019 Taiwanese movie “A Sun” goes.

There are days you can’t help but wonder if, even by the slightest chance, another human being sees you. Or hears you. Or understands you.

Or perhaps, you just have to accept and find peace in the thought that no one on this earth ever will. That the only thing you can expect it from is not on this planet. That the fairest thing conceivable in this world is, indeed, the sun.

Such a wonderful gift from the Lord. But as soon as it fades from the horizon, I hope the faith that, come morning, it will shine again upon everyone and on every corner will suffice. Meanwhile, in the stark darkness of the evening, take solace in the picture of your face greeting the brightness of the sun. And welcoming the vastness of the blue sky. With a smile. With eyes closed but with the heart, open.

10 Years Late: The best thing that happened to me in 2017..

..or in a very long time, rather, is stumbling upon this awesome series called "Chuck."

photo source: schmoesknow.com

I fall in love with movies and I still find the fact that films can make one individual relate and be drawn to characters in a span of two and a half hours (on the average) magical. Logically, tv series could do it easier than films because a viewer would be spending more than 2.5 hours with the story and its characters. And I had actually experienced that with a tv series once, more than a decade ago, when a show entitled "Jack & Bobby" was shown in a local tv network.

photo source: gstatic.com

However, after discovering that this magnificent show about the teenage years of two brothers - one of whom will be the future president of the United States - got cancelled after the first season, I realized that the things that draw me to a tv series may not be what a successful one is made of.

Fast forward to May 2017 (when the only series I have followed so far since Jack and Bobby was Game of Thrones), I was watching The Head and The Heart's Rivers and Roads Video on YouTube. The band is of the country folk genre, and their music is so enthralling with lyrics that speak deep to your mind, your heart and your soul (perhaps which is why they are aptly called The Head and The Heart). I was browsing through the comments section when I noticed that almost all of the comments says "Chuck brought me here." I then recalled hearing about a series with the same title way back in college (read: 6 or more years ago), and I could remember people getting excited over it. So I searched for the show online and was able to find a site where I could watch the first episode. It was one morning of May 2017, and I was on board a delayed flight from Cebu to Manila when I decided to watch the first episode of Chuck, which aired in the U.S. in 2007. My memory of the day I was introduced to the world of Mr. Charles Irving "Chuck" Bartowski, Sarah Walker, Morgan Grimes and the whole gang - and Buy More - is very clear. I don't think I will ever forget it. But, unlike others, Rivers and Roads brought me to Chuck.

What makes Chuck special? I couldn't actually tell what sets it apart from the other series as I only have two (and an episode or two of) other series to compare it with, but what I can attest to is that Chuck is a show that is full of heart. It is basically a love story inside an action-packed setting of the spy world. The beauty of the show lies in how a viewer could effortlessly relate to the characters, or on how it could pull a viewer's strings of emotions and make a him/her empathize with what a character feels. One can easily see himself in the ordinary nerd that Chuck is who continually raises similar questions that a person his age would ask. Or one is invited to become a part of the beautiful relationships in the show: the heartwarming sibling love between Chuck and Ellie, the unbeatable bond of Chuck and Morgan, or the honest and genuine love Chuck and Sarah have for each other amid a world of pretension and lies. Its beautiful storytelling, supported by the impeccably-selected background songs in almost every scene, always hits home, to the point that I had to choose between sleep and Chuck. And I must admit there were nights I fought with myself to choose sleep.

Six months later, my journey with Chuck ended when I finally decided to finish the fourth and fifth seasons of Chuck last October. It was a bittersweet feeling - watching the final scene and knowing that what comes next in the stories of Chuck and Sarah and the gang will be pure imagination until a new episode or movie arrives. But it has been 5 years since the last episode of this wonderful series, and while I feel fortunate that I was introduced to Chuck, I fervidly want more people to get a taste of this series and perhaps experience all the emotions I felt following this story, and create the same deep, personal attachment I consider among the best things that happened to me in a very long time.

Indeed, it was a personal journey with Chuck and Sarah and John Casey and Morgan and Ellie and the whole "Buy More" gang. It was like being a part of a fictional family with characters, story, words, and music harmoniously touching my soul every episode. It may sound like a cliche, but this is one of those stages in your life you could certainly say "I'm just happy it happened."

A lot of great things happened to me this year, but definitely on top of that list is stumbling upon this series, and knowing that I will be forever a fan of Chuck, and that it will be forever a part of me.

Conviction of the Unseen

"Long ago, but not so very long ago / The world was different, oh yes it was," as Randy Newman's song "Our Town" from the movie "Cars" begins. Since I stumbled upon this song hours ago, this line has decided to reverberate in my mind. It couldn't be truer than now for me.

There are times I couldn't help but remember the past, and feel the emotions that came with reminiscing. I wanted so bad to go back to comfort my old self, who was in dire need of someone to draw strength from; to tell myself to not worry, to not fear, to not be sad, for he was never alone, especially during the times he felt like he was..and wanted to give up; to console him and assure him that everything will be alright; to make him realize God has never left his side. I knew I needed to apologize.

"I am sorry." I know I could no longer tell this to my old self. What I could do, though, is tell this to myself now. And so, I am sorry.

Looking back, I get overwhelmed with all the changes that have occurred so definitely, much like an execution of a meticulous plan, which is now in that stage when the promised 'someday' in the phrase 'someday it's gonna make sense' is slowly being revealed. Lord, please know that my heart is filled with gratitude. 

And I know you have plans for me - and for all of us, your children - that only You know. The roads ahead are daunting, but, this time, I'll face them right: without fear, not lonely, with conviction, full of hope, and, most of all, faithful, for I know that in all I do, in all I will face, you, Lord God, are my shepherd and you will give me strength.

Changes are bound to happen. In 2 weeks, I will move to Cebu for a work assignment, which means I shall bid goodbye to the kind of work life I have known the past 2 years handling Robinsons, and I shall get used to living at a distance from my family and friends. With only a single life to live, I promise myself to welcome these changes with open arms, with conviction of the things unknown and unseen, because, more than ever, now I am certain that not only am I not alone, but also the Lord God is with me, as He is with every one of us whom He loves unfailingly.

"For we live by faith, not by sight." (2 Corinthians 5:7 NIV)

Living with Time

I have been living in this world for 24 years now. It's wonderful and surprising how the years have gone by and funny how I can clearly recall those I can recall and realize that it's been years since they happened or since I have experienced them. Almost unbelievable.

To say that 'Time flies so fast' is an understatement. Perhaps, to say that 'Time teleports' is the more appropriate way of putting it. Because, truly, you'll never realize that it passed by until you notice that it's gone. Then again, it's primarily because we assumed the presence of Time from the beginning. They say that no one or nothing can travel faster than the speed of light. That's valid simply because Time is a disqualified runner in the race. Why? Because no one can determine the speed at which Time is traveling. It's undefined.

Which makes me think: We say that Time flies fast when we're having fun, and walks slow when we're in pain. But how do we say so? How do we measure the rate at which Time is moving? As far as my knowledge in Physics is concerned, speed is the distance covered per unit of Time. Yes, Time is assumed to be constant in the scientific scheme of things. It is incomprehensible to perceive Time as a moving entity that covers some units of distance, and measure it against an assumed fixed unit of itself, at least for now (of course, welcome is the genius who will disprove the concepts we have come to accept as facts).

And so our claims of Time flying fast or slow is scientifically invalid. Yet we continue to cling to that thought whenever the past becomes the unwilling target of our bullying mind (just imagine how cluttered that mind is). In any case, that is why it is called an idiom - it is not to be taken literally.

But why is it that whenever we suddenly decide to remember the past--regardless of the trigger--we put the accountability on Time? That it flies fast-- something we are either grateful for or melancholic about. Perhaps if only Time could speak, he/she/it would tell us this:

"I have given you myself to live with from whatever you consider your start was. I was not chasing after you that you needed to maintain a tiring pace to remain sane, nor was I driving slow in front of you that you needed to clench your fist, bite your lips or free out expletives, still, to remain sane. I was living with you, and you know it. But however hard I try to make you notice, you fail to recognize it. I was just with you in all you've been through. I may not have felt deeply what you felt, or seen exactly what you saw, I was just there when it happened. All I wanted you to realize is that you are living with me. And I hope whenever your mind will pick out a memory and you suddenly realize that 'Time flies fast,' remember that it was not, in any way, fast. It may be buried very deep in your pile of memories, but that doesn't mean those in between happened in a blink. In the same way that when you think your waiting is too long--it actually isn't. And once you acknowledge that I live with you and that you live with me, whenever you remember the past, you will not long for it; whenever you think of the future, you will not rush for it. You decide on how much of me is deserved by a point in your life. And the latter ends as soon as you want it to, and begins as soon as you want it to. You may not know it, but you do--you are living with me."

I am one guilty of blaming it to Time even when I was there when everything happened. So, as I enter the 25th year (and the rest) of my life, I recognize that I am living with Time. And more than just the acknowledgement, I will do live with Time, such that when I turn 48, and recall that when I was 24 I wrote about living with Time, I will be able to say that "yes, it has been 24 years. And, though I may not clearly remember all those years, I know they went somewhere, and yes, I believe it has been 24 years."

The World I Knew

The world I knew is very different from the real world. But I grew in it. I lived in it. And it seemed very real to me. No - it was real to me.

The world I knew is true. It was as honest as it could be. But it wasn't the real world. And from being the world I know, it slowly became the world I knew. And it wasn't easy. It wasn't fair.

The world I knew could be the world someone else knows right now. And I want to pat him on the back, and hope the impact will echo until the day comes he realizes how his truths are but proud lies lying. And may he be reminded of it, whenever he would feel betrayed.

The world I knew is my solace. And I know wherever I may be, I would always find in it my peace, and the most wondrous memories I would ever have.

The world I knew is a world that's getting smaller day by day. I know I will wake up one day, and I no longer live in it. Rather, it in me. It may shrink further but it will never vanish. It will never disappear. It will stay in me forever, as how I thought, several times in my life, that I would in it.
 

#PrayForThePhilippines

Lord,

Once more, our country is in dire need of your utmost guidance and mercy. Please spare the innocent lives of my countrymen the scorn of this calamity. And may all of us grip firmly on to our faith as we face another battle aimed to strengthen us.

Thy will be done, Lord.

Amen.

Prayer to Live

Moments like these.. I wish I could just disappear. I wish I could just turn back the hands of time. I know I should be thankful for the mere fact that I am alive. But it's just that, moments like these make me realize how difficult it is.. to live.

What if I was born a different person? with a different nationality? from a different background? with a different language? with different dreams? Would I be happier?

I recently met a man who came face to face with death. He could have died with the gun shots, but no bullet came out. He was saved by God. I know I, too, am loved and blessed by God. I may have not yet come face to face with death, but I understand that God saves and will save me. Perhaps, it is this faith in the Lord that gives me the persistence to fight for my dream, despite the pitfall that everyone sees of its becoming a reality. But we are human beings. We think. We protect. We fear.

It is hard but I pray to God for guidance and for the strength to live each new day He continues to give me. And I pray He will not give up until I finally learn and am able to live the life He so wonderfully granted me, not just for myself.

I love you Lord. Amen.

Opening a Clenched Fist

It took me a long time to open a clenched fist. But when I finally did, I felt the warmth of the air passing through the spaces between my fingers. All of a sudden, I was able to touch what I see, and feel what I touch. I knew I should have opened it sooner but, by now, I am just really grateful I did.

GAP

Ephemeral Time

It's been months since I last had an entry here. After a number of failed attempts to complete a writing, I will try once more to release some trapped prisoners inside of my barred mind. If my drafts folder would be any indication, I have planned five launches which I eventually aborted. Or simply neglected. Or forgot about. Or avoided. And so they remained as titles, and vague pictures of catharsis that never were. I have dared to write about the new year (An Untitled Post) last January; about my first time in Boracay with my college friends  ("The Bora Project") last March; about how I desired to have an entry ("Memory Full") last April; about how I terribly miss UP because I feel alone ("My Failing Solace") in April; and about my learning from the recent changes ("Temporary Home"). It's not that I haven't been writing for the past 7 months. I have actually. It's just that..whenever I start writing, somewhere along the foggy intersecting roads of the clauses, vocabularies and thoughts, I've usually found myself questioning where I am standing, why I am standing there, and where I desire to go. Uncertain and flummoxed, I just walk back. Or fly away, going back.

But about a week ago, words flowed out freely and smoothly from me as if my heart was a jar tilting itself to pour out the water that transforms into a sea of writings. I do not know if anybody will/can read this, but I remember clearly my right hand flying freely as it wrote some portions of my memory, as if it has a mind of its own. And that unencumbered feeling is something I would want to feel again.


June 12, 2013

Happy Independence day! Today is a national holiday as it marks the 115th year since the proclamation of the Philippines' independence from the Spanish colonizers. Ironically, this day also marks the 'last day' of my short-lived hiatus from the normal world - the 'as-it-should-be' reality. In other words, today is the official last day of my one month unadulterated freedom. I feel sad, but not totally sad. I feel excited, but not completely excited either. I feel happy, but I am not just happy. I am a mixture of emotions, but I am at peace, and I guess there's nothing else I would rather be.

The past months have been a whirlwind. Such a cliché, but I recognize its figurative honesty. There've been family earthquakes caused by the sudden eruption of dormant volcanoes. Though I'd like to believe there were no lava, or perhaps they formed on spots where there wouldn't be casualties. But I know for sure there are cracks deep down the mantle layer of our home, unseen on the surface. Would they heal? I'm absolutely certain they will. However, on the question of when - I'll let time be the narrator. Same goes with the question of when I'll come across an angel who would join me in my earth. We've parted ways early this year. On the same day I had one of the most unforgettable UP Fairs I've been to. Yes, with her. Similarly, I'll leave it to the hands of time to write down when I'll experience the same fun, freedom and friendship I have experienced in Boracay last March, when I'll find myself writing again for a Film Class - even just for a week, and when I'll cross paths with the people I met in the short time I was with Philips. I had my last day last May, and that actually signaled the start of the short but memorable one month of freedom I would eternally be grateful for.

Looking back, I feel so blessed because I know I've been granted a gift I've been wishing for for so long -- Time. To have time is to have air to breath: it keeps me alive, and it reminds me that I am alive. Having enough of it is healthy. Needless to say, the lack of it is fatal. I had time to think about myself, for myself, about nouns (people, animals, things, places and events), and for nouns. I had time to be.

I had time for my home. And I had time to go back to my other home - UP. One of the best things this short period of liberty gave me was the opportunity to go back to UP: to be physically there and be wrapped again in the solace that UP is (and will be) for me; to experience the simplicity and tranquility this home provides; most importantly, to make memories with it with the people I consider friends. Oftentimes, I have gone jogging with my best friend Tanjo (and sometimes with Paula, the new sales(wo)man) around the acad oval and talk about sales work and life in general, while UP quietly absorbs all our rants and apprehensions, and leaves afloat our hopes. One of the highlights would be our tambay time at the Vinzons kiosks, pre-jogging, where we eat pancit canton, and recall how we used to not afford some meal combos. Talk about changes.

Whenever I go back to UP, I always visit the place that served as my home for two years, when I was starting to explore the world of being an isko - Math Building. Partly because of that walk from AS-FC to CS to the teletubby land, which I have always enjoyed. It's like watching the trailers before the movie begins - you can't wait for the movie to play yet you still want to see more trailers. Until I arrive at MB. Usually, I would just pass by the newly-renovated CR (at least for me) near the entrance, and roam around the 3rd floor, and end up eating at the canteen. And then leaving, because staying longer would spark a feeling of being lost. Emo, really. But yesterday was not a usual visit. It was like seeing an amazing film in a long time after a series of visits in the cinema house (just because it comforts you) hoping a good film is what will be shown. I got to catch up with my Math Buddies Mark (with his girlfriend Jeanine) and Vonn. It feels great to be in MB with these old friends, and to recount stories of the past, and to realize how funny they sound when told now. Time flies so fast. The 'reunion' was for a short time, but I'm glad I had that time.

This day marks the end of my short vacation, of me doing what I wanted to do: read books, play the guitar, visit UP, hang out with friends, write, watch movies, and sleep. Because tomorrow I will start doing the things that will make me who I want to be. I realize that the reason I am at peace is because I have hopes. I have hopes that I have entrusted with God. Hopes that the future has in store for me a lot of new people, new places, new experiences and new memories I would want to stay friends with, I would consider another home, I would learn a lot from, I would pray to relive, I would be glad I had the time for, and, most of all, I would want to have infinities of the ephemeral time for.

Cheers to the future!

GAP

Delta Altitude Effect

November 18, 2012

Vehicles are now piling up in this part of SCTEX in Tarlac. No, I’m not driving – inside the bus, yes, on my way back to Manila with my friends. Technology really has a way of enabling us to do what used to be unimaginable not so long ago. As of writing, the orange sky is still silently crawling its way to vanishing, and in just a little while the sky will be a dark cloth that will blanket the entire visible universe. The kid passengers started singing and chanting lively as if the uncontained spirit of excitement to be home had exploded from their core, started spreading through their veins, and needed to escape. While the more aged ones, to whom the work and stress of the long-travel undertaking must have really took a toll on, are quiet and resting, at least physically, I believe.

To my right is an orange-painted sky with dark blue clouds; to my left is still a light blue sky and dirty white cottony clouds, struggling to fight the daunting darkness, or may be just awaiting the latter’s arrival, just like how every day is. But the past two days have not like been how an “every day” has been for me. I and my friends went to Baguio – the second time I have been to the cold city up north.  Since 11pm of Friday night, we’ve been through a lot of adventures: fun, exciting, unexpected, exhilarating, frustrating, frightening, disappointing, surprising, calm, amazing, candid, tranquil, genuine, unbelievable and certainly, unforgettable.  

I really believe that an hour of honesty makes a better friendship than a decade of hi’s and hello’s. Though I’ve known them for quite a long time, I never thought I would learn from these people much more than I had until these barely two days of freedom. These wonderful guys –Tanjo, Jed, Benson, Jesse, Jessa, Betsy, Bambie and Ces – they made me realize and learn things only I could have through an experience with them. Some things I appreciated the value of more than before. And I am happy I went on this trip with them. I am sure they are too.

I guess today would not end like how a typical day would. But here’s to hoping I’ll get to write one day, that this kind of day is how my “every day” already is.

It’s already dark, and I know I am closer to home. We are.

Gerald

The Perks of Being a Lighthouse

My Dearest Shoe Box,

It's been a while since I last sat down on a corner and face the screen with eyes frozen on your site in that universe you are in. Please do not presume I am lying. I know there have been a thousand times I sat down on a corner, and there have been a number of times I checked this blog. But there was never a recent chance for me to do both, either intentionally or accidentally. Or perhaps, I never had the power, since the last post, to make myself write. At least here. For that, I am sorry.

Well, almost 8 months have passed since my last post (which was actually a vague expression of the state I was in then), and there have been a couple of new things and happenings. I'll share a few:

1. I was assigned in North Mindanao from January to July of this year. It was really a marvelous experience. Made me appreciate the beauty of this country more - through the places, the food and especially the people. Most importantly, I get to add another view about life.

You can only appreciate how vast the world is, once you start believing it's not as big as you think it is.

2. I had a "break." 

3. Made my own music! through some strumming and some friends' talents.

I was driving so fast I did not realize that the scenic view I was passing by was passing me by. So I stopped, savored it, and promised that my destination would be as breathtaking.

4. There's a new member of the family.

5. Sadly, some friends departed..

Things will inevitably change. That's what good memories are for.

6. I met an angel! :) She has these white, beautiful and regal wings. You wouldn't believe it.

I asked an angel if she can live with me in hell. She said 'Yes.' And for a moment, I knew what heaven feels like.

7. And I am off to a new start! Wish me luck!

Life is a short game. But while it's on, it gives us all the chances to win, to lose, and most importantly, to start again.

Just keeping you posted. I thank the Lord for yet another day I was given to breathe, to witness the miracles of life, to stand the coldness of the night, and to appreciate the ones that make the world a great place to live in.

Love always,

GAP

Ironic

And after all you did to protect the thing that matters most to you, it is taken away.


While those things you are willing to let go of, they keep holding on to you.


Isn't it ironic?

Tonight, I'll see you in my dreams

It's new year, and I've composed a new song entitled Tonight, I'll see you in my dreams. This song goes out to all those who look forward to sleeping and dreaming, for it is only in their dreams that they are able to be with the people they cannot be with in reality. ;)

I've also written the lyrics below. Hope you like the song. :)

Tonight I’ll see you in my dreams 

Tonight, I’ll see you in my dreams

Running freely in the fields

like children chasing fireflies

and no chasing hours

Trailing on the grassland

In a maze of swaying swords

And watch them as they fondle

those porcelain legs of yours

Oohh...

Where you and I smile

and it was just a smile

without a single doubt or lie

but we would never know why

the truth’s no you, no fields, no hymns

but still, I’ll see you in my dreams

Tonight I’ll see you in my dreams

where we lay carefree at the cliff

while I speak to you a phrase,

and the white clouds form your face

Where the wind sings us a lullaby

to help me get to where you are

I’d touch your face and bravely try

to say goodbye--

Goodbye----

and it was just goodbye

without a single cry of fear

though I would want you to be here

the truth’s no you, no fields, no hymns

but still, I’ll see you in my dreams

Yes, tonight, I’ll see you in my dreams

For when I feel the morning’s breeze

I consent my hands and heart to freeze,

But I can’t save the pillow from the tears

See you tonight, I’ll see you in my dreams

For when I feel the morning’s breeze

I consent my hands and heart to freeze,

But I can’t save the pillow from the tears

See you in my dreams

-end-

Five Guitar Strings

Right, they must be six. But now, how can I play, when one string seems to be missing?

It's been almost three years ago since I got hold of my first guitar and had my first strum on it. I was then so clueless - clueless on how to play it, clueless on how to take care of it, clueless on what it would be to me. But it was an uncertainty I ventured myself into, because it promises music. And music is the solace in times of solitude. It guarantees no loneliness, or at least a company in times of melancholy.

However, it was a venture I did not fully succeed in. Not that I did not learn how to play, I actually did, though not confident enough to play in front of a big --and a scrutinizing-- crowd. Nevertheless, it remained true to the promise I saw in it. That day I bought my wooden, acoustic Fernando guitar was the day I had found me a new best friend.

I remember, on its early days, getting home from school at lunch time (because I only have one class for the day), and I would grab my guitar immediately, watch some episodes of Death Note and play on it again. I've even brought it to my tutees' house to give them free guitar lessons, (although I am not an expert nor a professional guitarist) which eventually, sometimes, becomes the highlight of the session. A number of times my guitar has experienced the difficulty of commuting to be able to go with me to school; to spend breaks singing with friends and looking forward to the end of the day when we would go from CBA to NIGS to offer some music to a friend.

It's been almost five months since we've had one serious play. The many changes I have to adjust to have not been so kind to spare me time to give it a good strum. In fact, I have vetoed myself a little constraint in playing it, for the primary reason that at this point, there are far more huge and crucial lessons I have to study, and more important skills I have to practice. And it pains me. I no longer am the student who runs home, throws his bag on the floor, grabs his guitar and plays it at the sofa the entire afternoon. I no longer am the tutor who extends his time at some Korean boys' unit trying to introduce  to them the wonders of the six strings. And there isn't anymore a friend in the sciences I and my guitar would play to.

This morning, I tried to play with my guitar. I strummed ordinarily, but it sounded oddly. For a G, it sounded like only five strings sang, and one of them is mute. It felt like one string is missing, and I don't know how to bring it back. Or when..

At the end of the jungle*

Not so long ago, we entered college with a vague picture of what’s in store for us. Equipped with our high school learning, some beliefs about the University, and our own distinct student number, we all ventured into the jungle that is UP Diliman. Our four, five or even six years in college have seen us trail different paths in getting to where we are now. Sometimes, the road is smooth, the sun shines brightly, and if we are fortunate enough, we would find a basket of bananas at every corner. Other times, the road would be marshy, that we find it hard to run fast, and foggy, that we can hardly see the end of it. In the same jungle, we have seen a lot of new and interesting things—long lines at any imaginable event, fraternity boys running naked around, and blue books we submit with high hopes (which eventually are blighted the moment they were returned)—and have met a lot of species we have never encountered before—professors who are extremely kind to girls, anime characters coming to life for Math, friendly guards, and a genus of students sharing the same organization. College life was definitely one great adventure, and UP was a jungle of transformation, however we tried to resist. Now that we have reached this jungle’s exit, before asking what lies ahead, we contemplate on one big question: What’s the best thing that we have earned and deserved from college?

The degree—whether BS BA or BS BAA, we all worked hard for it. The sleepless nights we spent reviewing for an accounting exam, preparing for a marketing presentation, completing our papers for the tons of cases assigned to us, and exhausting all resources for that one feasibility/industry study all paid off. To be called a UP CBA Graduate is certainly among the greatest achievements we have earned and deserved from college. We have survived and made it to the finish line!

The honors and the recognitions—it is not every day that we receive recognitions for the fruits of our labor. Honors are additional blessings for the exceptional milestone students have surpassed. To be regarded as among the top students in the college, or in the university, is an honor that has been there to drive us to continue performing well. And these are but a proof that we have gone the extra mile.

We have made our college life meaningful through the momentous achievements and rewards we garnered. But the marvel of our college life as business students will continue to be treasured not only through the awards we can keep via certificates, envelopes and letters, but also through those we can share our lives with, even after graduation day.

The friends—if there would be one achievement from college life that we definitely have earned and deserved, it would be our friends. Having true friends means that we have spent the last four, five or six years unselfishly. For every hardship that our friends encounter, we have served as instruments to help them emerge triumphant; For every adversity that our friends go through, we have given them the inspiration to see the brighter side; For every short moment we ask them “Kumusta?,” we have erased in them the feeling of loneliness; For every uncertainty we faced, we have never left them. For having been able to do all these, from the friends in our previous colleges, to the friends who welcomed us in BA, we have undeniably earned and deserved them, in the same way that they have earned and deserved having us as their friends. Any other achievements, time can make trivial or obsolete; but our friends, they are timeless awards we can always be proud of.

For these, fellow graduates, let’s congratulate ourselves.

*an article for the UP CBA Batch 2011 Yearbook

Too Many Talking Whales

My head is full of talking whales. And all of them are furious to get out.

It has always been like that: One whale gives birth to another, then it gives birth to another one. Often times, they multiply exponentially. My head is a system abiding by the laws of science, e.g. no abiogenesis. That's why, it is but logical that the heavier ones are those who find it difficult to escape. But all of them grew fatter and fatter every passing second they're imprisoned. Hence, the prevalent fury inside.

I stumbled upon an abandoned college newspaper in our house one afternoon. I knew it was my younger sister's school paper: the white, glossy pages, very distinct from that of The Collegian; plus there's a description below the title that says so. What I didn't know was that she keeps a third-of-a-page column for her editorials. As I was reading her random thoughts, I could not believe I was reading some things I have once heard whispered to my ear, and I could imagine how she would be saying some of the phrases written. But what struck me the most was the realization that what I was reading was just among the many writings she wrote (and would be writing) that could converse with a thousand different minds-both the critical and the gullible. That moment, aside from being a proud brother, I've found myself being a living prison, depriving the talking whales of their freedom.

Life is simple but not easy. It's simple to free the whales, but it's never easy. You don't know if they would bear wonderful mammals, or hideous monsters. Sometimes, you even doubt if they are enraged because they want to be freed, or because they want to die. Risky, indeed. But it's a chance I have to take to make sense. To count. To matter. 

I worry for them, for they might be misunderstood and judged. But I owe the talking whales a lot, that freeing them through my writings is the humblest form of repayment I could do.