Perhaps if I die in the mountains of Negros

Perhaps if I die in the mountains of Negros

my family will be the most surprised of all

not for the reason that I died,

but for the fact that it is somewhere else not home.

My cousins will not be writing long posts 

in memoriam,

but they will surely launch an online war 

against keyboard warriors who would leave 

laugh reacts to posts about me.

Perhaps if I die in the mountains of Negros,

my friends will wonder what on earth I was doing there

the same way they did 

when I visited Bacolod

out of the blue

to fill a quota just to reach that Mabuhay Miles elite status. 

My friends know I prefer the sea over the mountains

but they also know 

that my feet have a mind of their own

and they often bring me to places

I did not even intend to be 

until I am already there;

but my friends will recall 

my first trip to the island

and

my rants about the sugar barons

and the struggling peasants

even though I have only been there

for just three days.

Perhaps if I die in the mountains of Negros

some of my acquaintances

will embrace the thought, 

introduced by people who do not know me,

that I have took up arms and became 

a “terrorist”

after all, I have always complained about injustice,

spoke against oppression ,

(ColonialismZionismCapitalismImperalismChildrenDyingPeopleSufferingForTheBenefitOfTheUltra-richWhileTheViolentStateMachineryStandsByToKeepThisSystemRunning)

and encouraged everyday resistance.

These three things, 

after all,

make a terrorist.

They will forget

that we used to share a meal, a laugh, an afternoon;

forget 

what they knew about me;

forget that we,

actually,

share the same values;

and from then on, 

they will remember me

not from their memory

but from what others told them I am.

When I was younger, I had this ambition 

to review every brand of Filipino corned beef.

I will eventually be labeled one of them; 

it will either be a generic, brandless “kornbip”

but in bold, gleaming, red letters.

Perhaps if I die in the mountains of Negros

strangers will scour my social media accounts

and lose their way on my empty linkedin profile

and find their way in my travel albums.

Some will say that I have wasted my potential,

my experience; 

to have the privileges of mobility

and foreign education

only to die fighting for nothing.

They will not bother to verify

the factuality 

of their assumptions,

nor will they read or care

about the condolences and memorials

written by 

relatives with long military lineage

from my paternal grandmother’s side 

because that does not fit 

the narrative.

Should I die in the mountains of Negros,

the worst that I will lose is not my life

but my agency; 

as people whom I know not

would be drafting elaborate tales about me.

Like RJ and Alyssa

I will be branded

a brandless kornbip

terrorist

for dying where people die every day

just because 

I was expected to die somewhere else.

Bakolod, 2025

I told myself that this would be a chill holiday. Relaxed, stress-free.

In the midst of the Masskara madness, my feet brought me to quiet places. An old government building, a grid of dusty ancient streets, a refurbished ancestral house with no visitors.

I know nothing about this island; I wanted to learn. And so it seems the universe found ways to teach me lessons. In these places, I met Boy, Eli, Juan, and Caloy. In no particular order, one worked for the hacienderos, one is a ‘Negrense’ who cannot trace his roots, one is an offspring of a sugar baron, and one hails from a family of revolutionary cadres.

In sugar country, life is sweet. 

Ang matalinong pagboto ay isang prebilihiyo.

We often speak lowly of so-called 'dumb voters’, mga bobotante, but honestly, it's naive to expect an intelligent vote in a country with poor comprehension levels and a broken education system. 

The notion of “maging matalino ka” is both restrictive and naive. As children, we were indoctrinated with adjectives deemed “suitable” for us: “si (insert name), yung maganda”, “matalino yang bata na yan”, “ah, yung matangkad?”, etc. Often, you're assigned the most outstanding trait you possess and this is reinforced when you get to elementary school. In a classroom, who are usually considered smart? Usually, it’s the top 10 students. That doesn't mean that the rest are dumb; it’s just that they wouldn’t be the first to come to mind when someone asks, “sino mga matalino dito?” So, what group do they belong to if they’re not with the smart bunch? 

They are the average. The Average Filipino. 

Ang Namulat, Di Na Muling Pipikit

Back in 2015, during the most frustrating period of the peace process, me and my cousin Deyah were shooed out of the NAIA 3 prayer room by a Moro woman. It was 4:30am and we were told that the prayer room opens at 5AM. That, and she wasn't happy that my cousin is not wearing a hijab.

Later that afternoon after a reluctant day of working, I lifelessly opened up about the experience to my supervisor, Ma'am Noda. Between gritted teeth and teary eyes, I asked "yung ganung tao, iyon ba yung ipinaglalaban ko? Yun ba yung pinagpupuyatan ko, iniiyakan ko, pinagaaksayahan ko ng oras at lakas?"

Tumindig

I passed by multiple houses with BBM posters today and I thought, “well, if he does win, my chaotic neutral self will be very entertained to see the shitshow that will follow”. I gloated over the idea for a moment only to be disgusted at the thought of it right away.

If you are indeed a friend who knows me personally—whether for a long time or just a few months ago—you will know that I have always been vocal about politics. Even as a teenager. And even more so today.

I care about national and local politics, because these two are interlinked, especially in the place where I’m from. I speak about politics because it seeps into every aspect of my life. Politics affect the work that I do, the place that I live, and the lives of the people that I love. As it did before, as it always will.

On One of the Most Sensitive Topics on Earth

Today I did something I haven't done in a long time.

I prayed.

Five times. Subuh, Dhuhor, Asr, Maghrib, Isha.

Much to my mom's happiness. Haha. And no, I did not do it because it is Ramadhan. I did it because I just felt like it. Same reason why I started wearing hijab. Because I just felt like it.

I'm quite sure that my reasons may rub off the wrong way for some people. As it does so with my mom. Her usual lines are, "you should not do it just because you want to. That means you are making yourself your own god." 

Like the issue of wearing the hijab, there was a point when I was vehemently against praying for the sake of compliance. Why do all these things? All that matters is you're a good person anyway. I thought that way until, one day, I decided to do them just because.

My mom is, of course, very happy with my new found practice of praying. The thing is, I don’t like following religious traditions just to make people happy. I think it defeats the purpose. My friend, Georgi, said it is not as if I am doing it for that reason anyway. My mom's happiness was simply a side-effect. 

It is, then, in this exchange that I have concluded that I don’t subscribe to one religion.

How can I say that when I wear the hijab and pray five times, one may ask? Here then starts a question that I first asked thirteen years ago.

Faith and religion. What is the difference? 

Buses and late Friday afternoons

Last Friday on our way home from Davao, I saw two Mindanao Star buses along Pagalungan and I felt like crying. 

See, I finished my undergraduate in Davao. It’s a place five hours away from my hometown Cotabato City. And yet from 2002-2009, it felt a lifetime away. It was during these years when bomb explosions were rampant and commuter buses were common targets. Riding one was a gamble of life and death.

I remember the first time I rode the bus to Davao. April 2005. I documented it. Every time I rode a bus, I feared that it would be my last. And so, for the duration of my university life, I would only dare travel back home twice a year: year-end and summer break. I have also taken up the habit of riding vans. I still rode buses, like that time when I joined the MPDC events, but they were mostly nighttime buses. I did not realize that I had developed an irrational fear of riding buses in the daytime until our class went to Cagayan de Oro in 2007 for an activity. We rode the van on our way there. On our way back, the class decided to ride the bus. The day before we departed for home, an explosion rocked Glorietta. Since then, I’ve had anxious thoughts about the bus terminal getting blown up or the bus exploding at some point between Cagayan and Bukidnon. I remember Kim holding up our tickets at the bus station and I could imagine the booth behind her exploding into smithereens. I remember seating beside Kokoi and praying nonstop on the first hour of the ride. It was only when I fell asleep and woke up in Valencia unscathed that the thoughts stopped.

Seeing the Mindanao Star buses, shiny and new, irreverent behemoths traversing the once-deadly Cotabato-Davao road, I felt a lump in my throat and a feeling of thankfulness washed over me. I felt thankful to be alive and to be able to witness this seemingly mundane moment. 

Perhaps my troubles are lost to those who have the luxury of riding their private cars, unperturbed by the dangers the common folks are exposed to in the face of an insecure environment. Looking back, I muse: isn’t it strange that the people who get to decide are those who do not even bear the consequences of their choices?

“But is it really peaceful now? Have we finally achieved peace?” I used to not know how to answer these questions. Not when people are still killing each other in the marshes of Maguindanao. But after last Friday, I think that the next time someone asks me “is this Peace?”, I would let that seventeen-year-old girl who used to be afraid of riding buses answer the question. 

Perhaps, yes. And maybe not fully. But I sincerely believe that where we are now is a step towards the right place. We still have a thousand steps to go. There is still so much to do. And so we tread on.

To my friends who are fighting the good fight, battle on. One day, your buses will come home safely.

Eid 2019

Today is Eid, the first day of Shawwal 1440. I am here in Iligan, two hundred kilometers away from my family. I woke up at 5AM, changed into my prayer clothes, and waited for two hours at an unfamiliar mosque somewhere in the city. The Eid prayers started at 7:15. I left the mosque at 7:45, changed into work clothes, and ate my breakfast in the car as we rode our way into Marawi.

I’ve seen the photos and the footages but they pale in comparison to the actual heartbreak of seeing the battered city with your own eyes. I look at Marawi and I see another place. I see Palestine, Syria, Yemen. I see not the city that once was but the fading memory of lives that have passed. It is strange but I taste the sorrow in the air. I may have not seen Palestine, Syria, or Yemen but I feel that the pain would not be much different.

And in a flash, I thought of Sudan. I thought of my dear friend, Hamid, and I was filled with a strong sense of dread. To love is to be weak; and Hamid has so much love for his country it scares me what that love could do to him.

This Eid is my most emotional one so far. I do not pray often. I am honest about that. Usually when I do, I end up crying. Today, I cried a lot. I promise that I will try to pray more than I shed tears. I am scared and anxious but I will continue to hope. Halfway around the world, it is all I could do.

We live and we die; for nothing is more certain than death. But each day we have is a promise and a chance to make a difference. Fortunate are those who can actually do so. I may not be able to do that but I promise to always try.

Today is Eid, the first day of Shawwal 1440. I am in Iligan but my heart beats strong oceans away, with the brave young man whose weapons are his words and whose courage is his shield. He will not fight alone. I can do nothing else but to help spread the news and let the world know what is happening.

Prayers and thoughts, Sudan. I am with you.

Kwentong UPCAT

My older sister recounted of an occasion where a farmer all the way from Samar traveled to Tacloban with his son on the day of the UPCAT thinking it was a walk-in exam. 

Behind the novelty of the experience and the quaint stories everyone is sharing about good snacks and unreliable IQ booster tips, these are the kinds of UPCAT stories that must be projected and discussed. 

Access to the University is becoming more difficult for the poor especially that our presence is lacking in the countrysides. 

UP, para tayo kanino? (from a post by Joshua Musico Sagdullas)

2004. I learned about the UPCAT application days before the submission deadline. I learned it from our high school valedictorian Angelle when she asked me whether I've finalised my documents for the application.

I didn't know. I wasn't informed.

Not so FAB-ulous

The strong commitment of the Government of the Philippines (GPH) and the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF) to resolve the conflict in Mindanao, as observed in the ongoing peace negotiations, is laudable. However, there are key areas of concern that still need to be addressed in attaining long-lasting and sustainable peace. Of said areas of concern, one of the most pivotal is the concept of information and its role in affecting the success of the Framework Agreement on the Bangsamoro (FAB).

International Kimchi Buffet Party (ASEAN, South Korea, and the Youth in International Relations)

In an online international community board that I frequently visit, there is this certain personal thread which spanned fifty pages and it all started on the simple topic of pairing different members of Korean pop culture icons with one another. What started as a simple exchange between three bored users caught the interests of another four until the thread moved fast and other people joined in. Eleven months after the thread started, we have long moved away from the original topic of the thread itself and along with it, established a familiar and relatively closer relationship with those who were actively participating in the discussion.

It did not come as a surprise when I learned that of the eleven most active participants, we had filled out all positions of each Southeast Asian country with the exception of Cambodia and Laos. Though our communication is limited only within the parameters of our computer monitors and the signal bars on our internet connections, I can say that the relationships I have built with my online friends have rightfully reached the level of how I interact with my close circle of friends in the 'real' world. The maxim of how technology has deduced everything into one global village has never rang truer in my ears.

If Sartre is alive...

Passing by the EDSA monument as we (Carla and I) go back and forth Makati Shang brought me momentary reflection about the idea of political ideologies. On how they necessarily affect political decisions on states no matter how theoretical these paradigms may be. And it is especially accentuated by the domino effect that has hit MENA countries on its stand on democracy.

It started in Tunisia; spreading unto Egypt. And now into Libya. People are marching on streets. Lives are lost. Entire nation, basically, in chaos. All for the name of democracy and freedom.

But is it really what people perceive it to be?

It appears to me as if the entire world is heavily romanticizing the concept of democracy. If you are born in a 'democratic' country and has lived in the post-Cold War era for basically the rest of your life, chances are, you have heard of the common rhetorical cliche that is "this is a free country, I can do what I want" or something of that sort.

It never occurred to me how fallacious that statement can get until that MRT ride last February 26.

Reasons and International Issues

It's been a while. A looooooong, looong while. The first semester of my third year college life slipped by; and now it's "hello second sem". Three more semesters to go and it's "hello real world"! Haha!

Anyway, last October, me and my classmates (ABIS-ASST 3) went to Cagayan for the 1st MDG Mindanao Summit for Young Filipino Leaders. For the fulfillment of our frustration for our supposed-Hongkong trip, the sight of the letter from the National Youth Commission and United Nations Youth Association of the Philippines is a gift from the Gold Gardens. Thus, Cagayan De Oro City we come. At, least we DID travel. And in fairness, it IS relevant to our course. The Cagayan experience is worth it.

And no, I'm not making this as an excuse for NOT blogging. Here are some proofs. Click, click, click!

Truth be known, I've been gone for a while because I'm busy nurturing my favorite hobby. You know, inventing new things, philosophizing, creating amazing discoveries within the parameters of my mind.

Sorry guys, I wasn't able to get the last ticket from Dreamland to the world of reality so I have to purge all self-will I can muster to face this blogpad again. And boy, that WAS hard!

My only hobby is laziness, which naturally rules out all others.

Anyway, before I ran out out of active braincells again, I might as well finish this post. I made a video of my classmates when we were in Cagayan. It's a pseudo-scandal. Haha! I'm so evil! (I'll just blab about whatever that would come to my mind, so pardon the inconsistencies) :)

An ode to the third year International Studies Students of Ateneo De Davao University. Woooo! Guys! We made it! We REALLY made it! From 40+ to 13! From Chan to Billiones to Tiu! I am sooo glad we're classmates. I promise you that from now on, I'll study. SERIOUSLY. I'LL STUDY! I'll do all my best to STUDY! There's no way I'd be late for our graduation. I don't want to graduate with the second years who find TERROR in Ma'am Diaz's piece-of-cake lessons. No way! They did not undergo Chan and Billiones. And THEY DO NOT EVEN KNOW WHAT HALAL MEANS! (Halal? Ano yan? Brand name?) HAR HAR. And they had the nerve to call themselves International Studies students!? What the-- Grr.

Okay Bam, inhale, exhale. Blood pressure...

I just hate it when I talk about them. They never fail to annoy me. Ho-hum.

Proceed, proceed!

So anyway, talking about International Affairs and issues, I've watched the Miss Earth 2007 pageant last night and I noted some things.

* Indians DO speak good english.
India has succeeded in taking the number three spot for the largest English speaking country after UK and USA. The slot was formerly occupied by the Philippines, which now falls at number 4. And yes, India holds the title for the largest English speaking country in Asia. This can be the after-effect of the inculcation of education as a primary and integral concept in India nowadays. Tsk, tsk Philippines.

* Filipinos need to reaffirm themselves OVER and OVER and OVER again.
I find it funny how Filipinos (especially the media) tend to HIGHLIGHT the Filipino-ness of a person. Take for example Vanessa Hudgens. When she starred on High School Musical, you will ALWAYS, ALWAYS hear reporters blabbing on something like this "half-Filipina Hudgens bagged the most coveted role of blah blah yadda yadda". They would celebrate on the concept of an international celebrity having a DROP of Filipino blood in his/her veins. What do we know? The teeny-weeny drop of Filipino in her blood had been sucked up by a mosquito who bit her when she was young. Tsk, tsk. Exactly what happened last night during the Miss Earth pageant. When Jessica Trisko of Canada walked unto the stage, the reporter introduced her with "Half-Filipina Jessica Trisko blah blah blah" Irk. DUH! Honestly, we really don't care if she is half-Filipina or not. Because at the end of the day, she is still of Canadian citizenship, she is UNABLE of conversing in Filipino, and she WILL BE carrying the CANADIAN FLAG under her nose wherever she may go. Not that of the Philippines. I honestly think that the "reaffirming part" acted as a consuelo de bobo as Miss Philippines Earth did not make it to the Top 16.

* Filipinos ARE nationalistic.
If you don't agree with me, explain the RECURRING FAD of Miss Philippines winning nothing except the Miss Photogenic award EVERY YEAR.

* Latin American contenders do well in almost everything EXCEPT the substantial question and answer portion.
Ho-hum. As always. You always see these Latina beauties on the top 5 of every International Competition. Sadly though, it seems that their portrayal as eye candies make up most of their roles. In my OWN opinion, judging from past beauty pageants wherein Latinas make it to the Q&A portion, they do SUCK in substantive intellectual discourses. I'd rather eat Spanish sardines all my life than hear them choosing TWO options out of TWO in every pageant they join in.

During the Miss Universe 2007
Host: What is more important to you? The heart or the mind?
Contestant: *calls translator*
*contestant yapping in a foreign language*
Translator: She thinks that both should go together blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda.

During the Miss Earth 2007
Judge: *long intro* What would you choose between the economy and the environment?"
Contestant: *calls translator*
*contestant yapping in a foreign language*
Translator: She thinks that both should go together blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda.

ME: *rolls eyes* DUH. Can't she think of any better answers than that? What the hell!
Dorm mates: Bam! Easy ka lang. Inhale, exhale.

That is soooo lame. I tell you. No racial profiling intended. But once you hear a question like that for Miss Venezuela or Puerto Rico or Spain or what-have-you, expect the oh-so-lame-and-oh-so-safe answer you can hear on KIDDIE BEAUTY PAGEANTS FOR THE CEREBRALLY DISABLED.

* Moving on. I would like to tell the world how fascinated I am with Miss India.
She is SMART. AND BEAUTIFUL. AND TALENTED. And whatever you wish to look for a beauty queen if you set your definition on HOLISTIC beauty and not out of mere physicality.
Here, here. Click on this link and drool. And no, I'm not a lesbian.

Pooja Chitgopekar

Okay, okay. I think that's too much for today. Pardon my rantings. I'll be back. SOON. Hopefully. Hehe.

Issues, issues, issues

Tsk. And when will I be able to post without adjusting the date settings? Sigh. Well, anyway, to keep track of the thoughts, I'll try juxtaposing the issues in Mass Media and Literarure.

First off, the powerful and influential world of Media. I've had quite a number of posts about media. The one about the Pacquiao-Morales and the "Fame and Power" issue. And now, the power of media is highlighted once again. We can clearly see its clasp on our society with the latest events. Mayweather-Dela Hoya fight, Elections 07, and of course, the Miss Universe Pageant. Tsk. Speaking of the Miss Universe pageant... [take the cue: I'll be talking about the pageant and not media here]

Why, oh, why! In the name of the beautiful skies! I woke up early to watch it. Like duh. The Philippines have Anna Theresa Licaros. I soooo love her! Whew! I feel like running to the nearest surgery clinic and have my sex changed. UP Diliman Summa cum Laude. One of the Most Outstanding Students of the Philippines 2005. Tsk. She's not just beautiful, she's got BRAINS! I saw one interview with her, and boy is she smart! Debater-smart. She's got substance. Not that I don't like the other contestant. They're all ravishing in their own ways, it's just that I was quite disappointed with what happened. The Q&A portion added insult to injury. I can just imagine her answering them! Waaah! Frustrations. At its highest.

Yah, yah. Everything is subjective, but really, she deserves the crown. You tell me.

Anna Theresa Licaros

Next issue: LITERATURE. Quite related with Bru's post.

I was enjoying living the simple life back in my pseudo-quiet hometown when Don Pagusara summoned me to join the Writer's Workshop. Whooo! So what? Well, it's just that Sir Pagusara won the Carlos Palanca Award in Literature and he will be one of our mentors in the said workshop. And what's with the workshop? It's a wrting workshop (duh) headed by Sir Macario Tiu and the Humanities Division in AdDU. (Tiu is another Palanca Awardee). We also had some fellows from the Davao Writers Guild (ie the beautiful ma'am Maria) and ma'am Lota De Pio. There has been a pseudo-screening wherein you pass either three poems, one essay, or one short story. For the love of God and the curse of procrastination and laziness, I passed my English21-personal-narrative-turned-short-story. And for lack of better terms, wished my way into the workshop. There are only a few of us (not more then ten). Bru, Kristianne, Myke (Most Outstanding First Year 2007), Sir Phillip, Sir Godie and our mentors. Some highly-acclaimed students (hehe) mushroomed every now and then during the duration of the workshop. And I've finally met Mel (adobobo)! She's cute. And she's smart. And she's a great writer. And I hope she won't read this.

Sir Tiu said that the school compensated 30,000php for the workshop. That's quite cheap since it's an ANNUAL workshop and we have these Palanca Awardees as faculty of AdDU. Way, way cheaper! What luck! 30,000 bucks! So that means, it's almost 3,000php per person. Haha! I love, love, love the workshop. Never-ending supply of food! My worms were jubilant. But aside from digestive satisfaction, I did get what I joined in for. I never knew that simple poetry can be soooo complicated. Tsk. I'll be posting some of my pseudo-poems on my next post. :)

I guess my summer isn't that boring after all.

Well, almost.

A Heed for Political Awareness

I'm currently in an on-off relationship. With my blog. Tsk. Hiatus every now and then. Why are my brain cells deteriorating? I always get a lot of insights but whenever I face the blogpad – zilch! They’re gone before I even knew it. And sometimes, I don’t even understand how it happens. I think so to prevent from this sudden outflux of ideas, I’ll just continue typing until I can finally locate my thoughts. I have a lot to blog actually. Politics. Mass media. Nature. Dreams. Literature. Because a LOT happened. I'll be posting the other issues on my next posts. So first stop, politics.

Elections 2007 came. And passed. It’s funny how politics flow nowadays. I can’t see the difference between it and the reality star-searches network channels embed in our mindsets. Photos of candidates swarm OVER us. Everyone is doing everything to win.

Yes, this IS politics. Politics was never clean. It’s all about competition. But do we really have to be THIS dirty? Politicians aiming to IMPLEMENT rules when they themselves BREAK them. Try reading the COMELEC’s Rules on Campaign Materials, some line there says that “no campaign material should be POSTED on GOVERNMENT PROPERTY and private properties, if and only if, the owner desires to do so.” I was roaming around during the campaign days and I see all sorts of violations. Posters EVERYWHERE. Electric posts, TREES, even on the ASPHALT ROAD. And if you, poor concerned citizen would try to report this on COMELEC, you’ll be so lucky if the COMELEC would not SUE you instead. Rampant killings everyday. And some candidates spend a lot to be on public office.

How noble. Isn’t Philippines amazing? Where else can you find people willing to sacrifice their life and their living just to SERVE THE PEOPLE. Har har.

I’m not generalizing all politicians here. I speak for what I observe, and I say MOST people running for public office have “evil thoughts” in them. The good apples are RARE.

Raised in a politically-active environment, I do know how filthy Philippine politics can get. Corruption is just a side-issue here. The idea of combating corruption is laughable. Because, corruption is not a political disease in the first place. It is societal. It has sipped in our nerves.

A friend’s mom was running for public office and I’ve been helping them distribute leaflets. We were wandering on some rural area passing print-outs AND telling people to VOTE. Then a man came up to us. He asked whether the folded leaflet contains some “palaman” in it. My friend just smiled and said “smile lang kuya, atsaka SERBISYO.” So you see, the problem is not the dirty politicians ONLY. It includes the people. You can’t fool someone if he/she is not willing to be fooled anyway.

Corruption has planted its roots in our system. And I tell you, it’s IMPOSSIBLE to give it up. Another thing is the APATHY of the people. Especially the YOUTH. I know a lot of people who have given up with this dirty game. What's worse is that they think that EVEN if they vote, nothing would change. And who are these people? They are the well-off and the poor. Why? The rich does not carry whether their next-door squatter neighbor eats roaches for breakfast; because that is not their problem. What the hell – they can afford to eat fifty times a day! So they don’t give a damn whether a lot of people starve. And then there are the people on the lowest strata of the societal pyramid: the poor. Because of insufficient knowledge and NEED, majority of the people have lost hope. They are the primary customers for vote-buying. They don’t think of the long-term effects. Their mindset goes like this: “as long as this politician hands me money, I give him my vote.” They don’t care if the said politician would then loot their goods in the future, who knows if they’re still alive by then from starvation! They live for today. That’s why they see their future blurry. Some aren’t even sure if they would still live tomorrow.

So this leaves me with the middle class. The THINKING CLASS. The middle class is the thinking class because they are coerced to think. They care and SHOULD care because they are those directly involved. They are not extremely poor not to think of tomorrow. And they are not extremely rich to be so sure of it either. So the least they can do is something to keep their situation stable.

So what is the problem? The problem is that, the middle class is starting to lose hope also. This should not be. This should NEVER be. The youth is VERY, VERY PASSIVE nowadays.

We.Need.To.Change.This.
No matter how hopeless the case may be.

See? Philippine politics IS problematic. To the deepest core. And there are quite a lot of answers regarding this problem. Such includes COMMUNISM, suggesting CIVIL WAR, and my personal favorite, conducting mass killings. Haha, I kid.

But seriously, I still believe there’s this teeny-weeny ray of hope left for our beloved country. The answer is on the young people. And I mean it.

What we need is to hear fresh ideas. Because honestly, this generation is booming with opinions. Smart opinions, as a matter of fact. The only problem is that, we are not given enough avenue to support this. And also because, majority of the youth are so apathetic to what is happening around them. This may be very cliché-ic, but we do have the world in our hands. We just need to work on it. And we can start by being responsible. Responsible enough to choose for our future. Responsible enough to vote. Wisely.

And with this, I salute those who participated in the past election. To those who braved the long lines of registration in the COMELEC. To those who thought carefully. To those who made THE choice. I would do that too! But unfortunately, I can't.

So, I pour my sentiments in this blog. For not being able to help hone a helpless country. For being helpless myself.

Just for being underaged. Grr.

Fame and Power

Fame. Popularity.

Waw. Surely everyone's dream. Who doesn't want to be known anyway? Fame is not only achieved with your face flashing on the television screens. It can be depicted on many other "avenues". Like a sibling trying his best to get his parents attention. To be the family's favorite. In a way, he yearns for fame. In a classroom, wherein a certain student always recites at class. It is not only because she knows the answer, but maybe because she wants to be recognized as not another face in the crowd. In a team or a club, wherein someone tries his best so that he will be praised. AND, can also be in the world of blogs. Wherein everyone bloghops and visit other sites to establish friendship with other people. To be KNOWN by other people.

All for fame. Fame is good.

Our NSTP class this afternoon talked about the INFLUENCE of MEDIA. The INFLUENTIAL list now goes on like this:

1. Media
2. Peers
3. Family
4. School

It's no wonder, "artista" search and pageants are attracing many teeners nowadays. The Showbiz aura is sipping in our culture. In our blood. It has sweeped off the world of politics. What's next?

If the traditional Nationalist Economist Perspective is Wealth = Power, it is now FAME = Wealth + Power.

Fame is good. But basing it on the Philippine context, it only highlights the major issue of CRAB MENTALITY among Filipinos. Everyone wants their piece on the cake. But can they just have a bite and at least leave some for others.

Fame is good. But how you use it defies its essence. Like a lightened match perhaps. You can either put the flame on a candle to light the dark. Or build a fire just to watch the appalled faces of the victims.

Fame is good. But most of the times, it can be quite irritating.

PACQUIAO vs MORALES

Yeah. The much-awaited bout. I heard some Filipinos were hoping that Pacquiao would lose. Why? Crab mentality? Maybe yes, maybe no. Maybe because they are tired of seeing his face on every advertisement there is on TV. I once joked that I wish he would lose. So that, there would be lesser Pacquiao pictures in every nook and cranny.

But, if we would dig down to the nitty-gritty of the said issue, it is the Filipino race that was upheld in his victory over Morales. Pacquiao is fighting for our country. It may sound very cliche-ish and "bakya", but it is true. He gets the sympathy of the mass.

People blabbed about teaching him a lesson for it seems that his inflated head grows larger with every advertisement he endorses. But then again, to highlight the issue, is it really him?

I think not.

Looking through a larger lens, we can see the bold power of MEDIA behind everything. The Media can manipulate EVERYTHING. Politics, society, norms... The media has the power. The media can MAKE or BREAK you. Because it controls FAME.

The Media is very powerful. It is good. But like fame, it must be put to GOOD use. As mere citizens of the community, the least we can do is STAND UP for our beliefs. Societal norms are given to act as GUIDE. They are GUIDES, and are NOTHING but guides.

We are measured through our INTRINSIC values and not according to norms set by whoever. We CONTROL our lives.

We, afterall, are the ones more powerful than anything else.

Canvas of Society

Colors.

They are everywhere.

For the world is a giant work of art. A mosaic.

A mosaic of different paintings.

The paintings were the lives of the people. Some paintings contain bright and warm colors; some are of lonesome hues. Some paintings were beautifully crafted. And some were left unfinished. These paintings may not be directly connected with each other, but they make up one wonderful image.

Some say that it was God who created the large mosaic. But the truth is, it is us who did so. We are the ones who hold the brush and the palette. We were the ones who choose what vivid colors to use. We try our best to paint the greatest. Then what has become of our work will be presented to Him.

He loves us so much that he COMPILES it into a mosaic. The larger picture. The society. The world.

My life's canvas has been colorful these past few days. And I find it rather intriguing that I complain and lament over the light "gray streaks", wherein other people seem to be contented with their minimal supply of bright hues.

My Humanities subject REALLY is creeping in my veins now. Sir Cayas made us watch an art documentary. It is NOT ANOTHER documentary film. It is an eye-opener. The socio-political crisis of the Philippines. Hauntingly portrayed through arts.

There should be more films like this. Kambas ng Lipunan.

Part One


Part Two


Part Three


Part Four


Then again, my life's canvas may be good. Bright, lively, warm.

But compared to them, does it offer something dauntingly striking?

Is it worth the look?