Regina Pluma 2009 Issue

Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen. Leonardo da Vinci

For you, Assumptionist. That you may find within you the prose of life, the poetry of love, and the canvas of God.

Pluma is the literary and artistic folio of the Regina, the official student publication of the University of the Assumption. It is published at least once every school year in the City of San Fernando, Pampanga. Pluma | Regina S.Y. 2008-2009 All rights reserved.

E

ditor’s note

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Immortal

hey say that with the printed page, man has won the battle for immortality. He has too, with the etched cave, the carved marble or wood, the once wet canvas, the roll of film, and so on. Stories and ideas told and passed on from generation to generation—be it through letters or the more visual creative arts—have, in a very big way, become our salvation, our deliverance from a cold, forgotten grave. How else would we know of Hardy, Whitman, Joaquin, Brocka, Van Gogh, Michelangelo, and—if we so desire to be contemporary—the late Michael Crichton, all among so many others? We cannot rewrite history, but that’s the point—we can write it once, and so we can remember and be remembered, if only because we have learned to commit our stories to paper, canvas, and what have you. Fifteen or twenty years from now, a youngster might find this issue of Pluma amongst his parents’ possessions and, at least for a few minutes, be transported to and immersed in the world that once enveloped the writers, artists, and photographers who gave of themselves to make this book possible. He might even say hey, there’s a good poem, or here’s a story that I can relate to, or wow, she’s a good artist, or there’s a beautiful picture. Of course, he might just as easily think it’s not much to read or look at—although we hope for better. But the point is, once in our lives, we endeavored to reach out to that young mind, we put some effort into being read, being heard, and perhaps being understood. And at least for those few precious minutes, we have

achieved a new lease on life, wherever we may be at that very moment. We have become—dare we say—immortal. The Regina is an avenue of reportage. It is also—especially through Pluma—a venue for creativity, emotional expression, and imagination. We thank and laud our contributors who shared their minds and talents to these printed pages. We only hope that they don’t stop here, that they pursue bigger, more ambitious attempts at being remembered for their talents, and perhaps appreciated even more. But opportunities to put out or appear on the pages of a book like this may not always be ours. If you are confused by this statement, please refer to this year’s theme. We are on the verge of destroying the only planet that we have, and although we as human beings have won the battle for immortality, this is a war that we are quickly losing. According to Green Peace, we have less than a hundred months left to take drastic enough steps to preserve our environment. After that estimate, we may be facing a possible countdown to – nothing. Immortal, we say? Our planet isn’t. What good is our attempt at being remembered if, in the not-so-distant future, there will be no one left who can remember us? We must care for the Earth. Now. In every little way we can. Lastly, thank you, dear Reader, for taking some time to browse through these pages and share a piece of us. Partake of this, our humble offering, and allow us the luxury of hoping that you find something here that will move you, or inspire you, fuel your own creativity, intrigue you, make you smile, touch you, make you pause, and, in so doing, make you remember. And if you are that youngster, reading us fifteen, twenty years after the date of this publication, please know and never forget: We were here.

John Vincent Tuazon Trinidad Editor-in-Chief S.Y. 2008-2009

Pluma 2008-2009 Regina Editorial Board & Staff SY 2008-2009 John Vincent T. Trinidad Editor in Chief Design Director Bryan G. Ocampo Associate Editor Leo Carlo Aguas Art Editor Luz Nathasha Korionoff Managing Editor Nielsen S. Ocampo News Editor Adon Henrik Dizon Photo Editor Joseph Lawrence T. Manansala Circulation Manager Paul Kyrby Balingit Rae Louis Maglaqui Assistant Circulation Managers Kriselle Jhean Navarro Samboy Musngi Jerrlito Custodio Kevin Tuazon Kevin Abad Rionel Lazatin Mark Joshua Lansangan Correspondents Oneill Ogoy Lorelie P. Bamba Al-Zen Pauline Hilario Senior Artists Michael Angelo Calupe Sean Aurelio Jaydee Manaloto Jan Philippe N. Cortez Jef Randel P. Ducut Joseph Patrick Anthony Mercado Artists

Ms Melanie V. Briones Moderator Mr. Danilo Maglaqui Consultant

Inside

Poetry 2 Pluma ng Isang Manunulat 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

Basura Kahit Saan HBW 2000 (Ballpen) Convict Inside a Trash Can’s Perspective Love for Nature Mistress Thief Overtake The Future Vision Barya Difference Earth Global Warming Himig ng Kalikasan Hindi Mo Ba Napapansin? Indu If Rivers Turned to Black Just Yesterday Mother Nature Nature is Cool Untitled Untitled The Earth is All That Will Remain For Alice Graduation The Harlot I’m Your Mysterious Guy Nag-iisa Prisoner I Love You, Daddy Nuit Blanche

22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49

The Goodness in You Path I Am Nursing (Revisited) Nostalgia Thorn Lady Your Angel Amaranthine Sky Corny Why God is Better Than an Annoying Boyfriend Drop Dead, Gorgeous Hans Chapter One: Because For You Unbearable Questions of Love The Love I Never Had Jezica How Will You Tell Me That You Love Me? Love Me Loving Companion in Life’s Journey Mamang My Only Wish This Christmas Nyx Searching and Waiting Searching for True Love Serenade Untold The Star’s Response Thou Trapped Me in Thy Bittersweet Word True Feelings A.R.I.E.N. Bliss Chapter Two: My Poison Dreams Come True Fences For You Are My Beau Gitara Go to Sleep I Can’t Take My Eyes Off You Irita Lightning My Awakening

50 51 52 53

My Inspiration Out of Boredom: A Countdown Princess Almost Perfect Someone Untitled What Love Is Where I Belong… Astig

Prose 56 Mistaken 58 61 64 71 77 79

My Cam The Dead Letter Puni Pro-Life Essays ‘Friends-friends’ Na Lang There is Something Special in You

Obra 82 Ima 83 84 85 86 87

Mother & Child Pro-Life I Pro-Life II Solitude Pilipinas Fallen Angel Greed Student’s Life Memories 10th Avenue Sand & Sky Sky Flakes Mhel Igid Ti Baybay

A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Dear Assumptionist,

T

his edition of Pluma is actually a notebook that you can use, ergo the spaces and lines on every page of poetry. Use it for your notes, or attempt your own hand at writing your own precious pieces of literature. That way, your copy of Pluma earns a deeper, more personal meaning to you, and you surpass being a passive Reader, for you become a Writer, as well. At the same time, you are already recycling paper, which means you are helping in our little but meaningful way of preserving and saving the environment. Good luck and God bless. See you on the flipside.

~ The Editors and Staff of the Regina

Poetry is the music of the soul, and, above all, of great and feeling souls. Voltaire

P etry

environment

Pluma ng Isang Manunulat Rae Louis S. Maglaqui Kay sarap titigan ng mga ibong lumilipad sa himpapawid Tulad ng mga bituing makikita sa butas ng bubong sa pawid Bughaw na kalangitan na humahalik sa mukha ng karagatan Sila’y malaya, nakatitig lamang sa sanlaksang taong nabubuhay sa lipunan Kay sarap umibig sa mga bagay-bagay na alam mong pangkaraniwan Tulad ng mga naiiwang bakas ng iyong mga paa sa paglalakad sa dalampasigan Na animo’y di na mabubura ng hangin o ng mga alon ng kasaysayan Ito’y mga bagay na simple, musmos at dati’y inaakala nating di pangkaraniwan Kay sarap minsang suot-suot ang mga maskarang mapanlinlang Tulad ng pagtago ng solidong katawan sa pusod ng karimlan Nagiging anino, hanggang sa di’ na matanto ang mga taong nasa kabila nito At ang pag-usad ng pangalan na gawa ng kapalarang mapaglaro Kay sarap ilathala ang mga kwentong nabuo ng kaisipan Tulad ng paglalahad sa buhay ng mga magandang karanasan Mga nanginginig na kamay ng nakaraan at kasalukuyan Nais ding makawala ang hawak nilang katotohanan Kay sarap maghanap, magtuklas at magsulat ng simbolong gawa ng tadhana Tulad ng malayang pagsulat ng anumang kataga sa linya ng tula Subalit pluma’y tila asidong lulusaw sa mga taong huwad na di marunong maglapat Sila’y huhusgahan, kikilanlan ng mga matatalim na mata tulad ng isang manunulat

Basura Kahit Saan aaliyah_06

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Tapon dito, tapon doon Kailan ka magsasawa sa kakatapon? Hindi mo ba naiisip ang kahihinatnan

Ng mga basurang itinatapon mo kahit saan?   Kay ganda ng paligid noong unang panahon Malinis, walang dumi, kahali-halina ang mga nayon Ngunit ngayon ay nasaan na ang gandang sinauna Puro kalat at basura ang makikita saan ka man magpunta.   Noon ay kay sarap maligo sa mga ilog at batis Ang tubig ay kay lamig at ang tubig ay kay linis Ngunit ngayon ay nasaan na ang malamig at malinis na tubig Marami na at maitim ang tubig sa ating daigdig.   Noon ay ginhawa ang hatid ng papawirin Kay sarap langhapin ang simoy ng hangin Ngunit ngayon ay nasaan na ang ginhawa sa pakiramdam Kulang na lang ay hindi ka na lumabas sa iyong tahanan.   Hindi mo ba nakikita ang kinahihinatnan ng pagtatapon mo ng basura kahit saan? Malinins na kapaligiran, tubig at hangin ay nawawala na ng tuluyan Ano pa ang madadatnan ng mga susunod pang henerasyon? Kumilos ka hangga’t maaga pa, sagipin ang mundo para sa kanila.

HBW 2000 (Ballpen) R. L. Maglaqui Dedicated para sa mga gumagamit nito Ako’y buong-buo nang piliin niya Katawang may hugis, kinilatis niya Hinubaran aking pang-itaas at ako’y hiniga Sa isang malinis na papag na mababa Sinakmal niya ko’t sinimulang galawin Hanggang aking laman ay lumabas sa ‘kin Mga mantsang mahirap ding burahin Malinis na papag ay nahaluan din Nasarapan siya sa aming paglalaro Init ng kanyang palad ay naramdaman ko Simula noo’y araw-araw ay ginamit ako

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Kaya’t lakas ko’y nabawasan at nanghina ako Oo! Nagpapagamit at mura lang ako Ngunit dugo’t pawis ang binibigay kong serbisyo Pero ‘pag wala ng silbi’y itatapon lang sa basurahan ‘di man lang naisip kung ano ang bakas kong naiwan Ngayo’y aking puri’y nawala na Sa kakagamit ng husto’y naubos na Ngunit nalikha niyang salita’y kailanma’y ‘di na mabubura Dahil na rin sa aking ibinigay na dugong tinta.

Convict John Vincent Trinidad It is by far our longest yard and how we wish it would never end —but it will sooner than we think The soil we tread is on death row —and we are to blame We burned it Retaliation is not a question —it is her right Reckless total abandon Woe unto us For God’s green earth walks her green mile to judgment day and we the jury have failed our sacred duty

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Inside a Trashcan’s perspective [email protected] This is my journey, something not much of a beauty. Reeks of putrid stuffs in here smell so badly. Some mean kids love to kick me and most of the time nobody takes good care of me One girl threw in her soft drink can Thinking she must have helped nature, she just ran If only she will recycle what she is holding, she might even start earning That big guy that smell like smoke, dumped his cigarette remains here so I almost choke. The woman next to him is carrying baby diapers. Oh no! Not that one please, somebody help me disperse! This dirty city’s famous taxi driver spit his deadly phlegm on me, what a massacre! One homeless dog went near me and spread his feet That musty liquid is worse than a man’s spit Rotten vegetables that can be used as fertilizer Was thrown by a woman in here, I wish I can tell her Various unnamable junks are inside me Some are dirty but most can be reused, I wish they’ll see If only you people will learn to segregate Recycle junks and learn to separate, follow the colors and don’t wait for trashes to disintegrate Then this world would be lovelier, isn’t it great?

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Love for Nature mystique angel As the sun rises over the sky Its light beams unto my eye Its rays penetrate on all things with life Nature’s abundance shall cease to strife. Flowers in a garden are such a feast One’s heart shall soften even that of a beast I slowly smell each blossom’s scent And try to capture what each one meant. The cool gentle breeze I love to feel As it blows through me and starts to heal My worries and burdens seem disappear For my heart somehow feels less fear. I climb up a serene, verdant hill To reach the heavens on my own will To drift away where the clouds abound And see the earth below and everything around. I venture into a thick lush forest With rich vegetation I find dearest Teeming with life in all its glory For preservation of nature itself is holy. The message of nature now made clear As I commune with my Creator who’s with me here To be the steward of all he has done His majestic work bestowed on us since life begun.

Mistress thief [email protected] You horrible plague You have espoused this! A house of horrors No doors, no windows from which to escape With your withering this world ceases to turn! Mother of death you have wronged us As little as you are your evil is boundless

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Woe unto those who believe you! With your touch everything alive dies You and your moles And your pitiful better half You are safe from hell for you are already burnt to the soul!

Overtake Celso Here we go Start your engines Fire the NOS Burn the octane Skid, brother for not just a quarter Rev it down Burn that rubber Bleed some speed Eat my dust Swallow my exhaust A rush of blood A gust of wind Floor it, boy Watch the world fade behind you Oh—can you feel it See that white line? That’s your goal Can you make it? Now take off your helmet and stand with me Do you see? Do you realize what we’ve done? We’ve just overtaken recovery and replenishment Shall we go again? Or is that enough racing —for one planet?

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The Future Tricia Alexa Mendoza What does the future hold for us? Smog filled skies and poison cars, And broken land with useless dust And nature’s beauty behind bars. Can I ever show my children, (If they ever come my way) The beauty of a sunset At the ending of the day? Can I walk into a forest, And surround myself with trees, Yet know that it will remain, For me to visit as I please. I know that I can today Do all the things I’ve said, But when today is yesterday, Will all these things be dead? This problem is enormous As we gradually take heed, So we must fix it quickly, Using words and thoughts and deeds.

Vision Vince of BloodChef Productions Ltd. Dust will cover these bridges And the rivers will be seas Not of water but of sand While we cover our eyes Trees will be good not for shade And bushes will dry The sun will bake the earth While we cover our eyes Oil will float like a bad dream On the once pristine beaches Boracay will be a memory While we cover our eyes Caves will cave in On miners desperate Not for gold but for freshwater While we cover our eyes

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Children will cry Not for milk but for air And we who feed them

Will only cover our eyes Oh my beloved Coca-cola My wonderful DB Vantage And my pack of Marlboros Will you cover my eyes No more afternoons on the track No more evenings on the porch No more movies on the weekend Just cover for the eyes A hundred months to save And a hundred more to waste The beginning will now end As we cover our eyes

Barya Rae Batang munti sa aki’y lumapit Hinawak niya aking kamay na kay higpit Ako’y nagulat at nagpumiglas “Umalis ka dito mandurugas!” Ngunit ako’y hinabol at nagbakasakali Na bigyan siya ng tinapay o baryang kaunti “Manghihingi lang po ng limos.” marahan niyang sinabi Kay’t binigyan ko siya ng baryang galing sa aking kalupi Nangilid ang aking mga luha Nang makita kong ito’y may kapansanan pala “Salamat kuya,” ang nasambit niya, “Pagkat ang baryang ito’y malalamnan ang kumakalam kong sikmura “ Doon ko nalaman kung gaano ako kaswerte May magandang edukasyon at magarang kotse Subalit ako’y saludo sa isang walang muwang Pagka’t hinaharap niya ang buhay ng buong tapang.

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Difference Danica Dizon HRM 2-A As I opened my eyes Harmonious sunlight kissed my face Gave me willing power to sail for another day The cold breeze blew my miseries away Stepped at the flourishing grasses Smelled the sweet-scented blossom of flowers It enticed my whole being with blithesomeness Oh a sigh, what a tasteful world it is But just as I thought that it doesn’t linger I thought my simple appreciation would inspire I only saw the beauty And forgot to look the other side which is the agony Then I turned my eyes around the corner I saw that this world I step in is decisively meager And that the entire world sways with every little step I take I never realized what a difference one person can possibly make Very tiny matters such as putting the garbage in proper Is a stepping stone in saving our world from all the trouble And if we put all these little deeds together Then the living days of this undefined world would be much longer Our world is our only home We should keep a profound care for thee And don’t wait for the time till there’s no taintless place left And our life-yielding sun may possibly kill us from its unstoppable heat We’re using the world’s riches ridiculously fast We’re ignorant if we think these riches would last So each of us might as well think of the outgrowth for every step we take And keep in mind what a difference one person can possibly make

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Earth geraldine bognot I can hardly breathe, I’m weak and hopeless, Will I die? I want to help myself, but I can’t My life depends on them… “I can barely remember the times that I’m strong and full of hope..” Long ago, I have a peaceful life, I’m happy and contented. I have my companions who love and care for me, We live… helping each other hand in hand. Now, I miss my life very much! Everything has changed, My companions do not even care about me… I’m alone, crying aloud! But… They seem to be deaf and naïve. What did I do? I’m feeling left all alone…

Global Warming Cindy David Global Warming isn’t hard to explain It leaves Mother Earth crying with excruciating pain. This hurts our planet in every single way The changes could leave us all in sorrow and dismay. We need to stop it now so the temperature doesn’t rise People, plants, and animals would be in demise. Changes in temperature due to the depleting ozone layer We really don’t need it so show us that you care. Mother Nature can’t do it all so let’s give her a rest. We all need to try and do what is best. Our planet earth is precious and can’t be replaced We need to act now or our home will be erased.

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Himig ng Kalikasan michelle angelie macalino Umaawit na mga ibon sa kalawakang malaya, Kasabay ng pagsayaw ng mga punong kaysisigla, Mga ilog at dagat na naghahabulan Tila ba mga batang musmos na naglalaro. Pansinin ang pagsikat ng araw sa umaga, Tila ba ilaw na nagbibigay ng liwanag, Gayun din ang hangin na tila umaawit, Nagbibigay ng pag-asa at mga pangarap. Masdan din ang mga isdang lumalangoy, Di ba’t nakakaaliw, tila ba walang kapaguran! Patalun-talon sa malawak na karagatan, Isa pang pagpapatotoo na napakasimple ng buhay. Nariyan din ang ibat-ibang mga hayop, Maiilap ngunit napakabait. Sadyang napakaamo ngunit minsan ay lumalayo. Ito’y tanda lang ng pagbibigay proteksyon sa sarili. Himig ng kalikasan, pakinggan… pakinggan… Sa puso’y damhin awit na kayganda, Kalikasa’y ingatan, ituring na pamilya o kaibigan Igalang, ibigin at pakamahaling tunay.

Hindi mo ba napapansin? Rhea Joy Sabino Hindi mo ba napapansin? Mga pagkakamaling ating ginagawa Kalikasan ay tuluyang nasisira Kalikasan ay tuluyang nawawasak Pagtapon ng mga basura kung saan-saan Pagputol ng mga puno para sa pansariling kapakanan Polusyon galing sa mga pabrika at sasakyan Ilan lamang sa mga bagay na nakakasira sa ating kalikasan Ngunit may magagawa pa tayo Para sa ating kalikasan Tayo na at magkaisa Magtulungan para sa ikagaganda ng ating kalikasan

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Indu Chucks Anyang minuna nakang ka berdi King babo yatu sagana ing bie mi Oneng anyang me abusu ka Lage mung masalese, mipalala ya Balu mi ikamu ing pwedi ming tuknangan Ing bie mapayapa, ika ing sandigan ing bie ming mitmung kasalpantayanan uli kekamimg tau mesira ngan Ugse keni, ugse karin Ilug, dagat menganuling Putut keni, putut karin Bunduk mung mayabung,mengakalbu narin Nanu pamo ing agawa tamu? Masasabi pamong bandi taya ing yatu tot pakanyan?! etaneman abayu lawen ye, masisira ne i INDU

If rivers turned to black John Paul M. Macalino   If rivers turned to black and ran with dirt and cities sank beneath a dirty flood perhaps the world would heed the thunder’s peal and understand that climate change is real.   If rain fell down as sawdust on them all and piled in desert drifts against the wall perhaps the world could see the end of days and try at last to change their wasteful ways.   Perhaps our world has simply been hijacked if man is to survive we need to act Please take care of our environment it is the best gift that God gave.

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Just yesterday Patrick John G. Gutierrez BSHRM II-B Just yesterday, it seems the fields were full of grain Just yesterday, the water came from heaven and the earth was not athirst But yesterday is five years gone and today is naught but rubble a wilderness of earth baked brown by the relentless desert sun.

Mother Nature Lecee Luis Sumat HRM 2-B Mother Nature is healthy, And has beauty and is wealthy But with Global Warming in the way, It will take Mother Nature’s beauty away It will become hot, Like a steaming pot Leaves will become brown, Then everybody will frown We need coolness, Not hotness But also happiness, Please Mother Nature don’t come to an end Because we’ll be your friend, To help you become healthy and green again

nature is cool Ria Charina Vinuya

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Nature is cool in its own way, Nature is cool in the day, But if global warming happens, It would not be good For our earth and neighborhood. Global warming would make the earth hot, Which would be like a boiling pot. Global warming would harm the earth, Mother nature could not give birth, To animals and plants, Earth would be under a trance. Green plants would lose their fame, Our waters would drain.

Our government will try to help, But you and I need to save the kelp. So start playing it smart, And do your part. Life might not end, If you’re Earth’s friend!

(Untitled) Maria Lourdes L. Lugue HRM 2B Of more Natural disasters in the news each day we hear The anger of Mother Nature it is a thing to fear She rages through the suburbs and blows the houses down And leaves death and destruction as she heads for another Town. Why does Nature with us get so angry is it the things to her we do? Since what we do to others we do to ourselves so happens to be true When we try to poison her with pollutants the anger in her we stroke If to her we were kinder her fury we would not provoke. Nature does not owe us anything since to her we belong With what I say some well may disagree but what I say is not wrong Without her we could not exist and it would be fair to say That when we cease to breathe the air of life we’ll return to her one day. When we take Nature for granted that is our big mistake We provoke in her great fury she avenges herself on us with an earthquake Mother Nature is our ruler though some do not see it that way For every wrong we do to her in kind us she will repay. Each day more Natural disasters, hurricanes, earthquakes, droughts, floods and fire When we treat Nature badly we stroke her simmering ire What we do to Mother Nature to our own selves we do I’m quoting from an often quoted quote that happens to be true.

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(Untitled) Shin Butiu Ang pag-init ng daigdig ay sadyang napakahirap ipaliwanag Si Inang Kalikasan ay umiiyak kalukob ng mga problemang nangyayari sa ating kapaligiran.   Ito ay dahilan para ang ating planeta ay mahirapan ng tuluyan Ang pagbabago ay nasa atin, kung alam lang sana natin itong ingatan at pangalagaan.   di na sana tayo nagdurusa ngayon Kailangan na nating itigil ang maling paggamit ng kalikasan para hindi tuluyang gumuho ang daigdig na ating kinatatayuan.   Mga tao, halaman at hayop ay maaring mamatay. Ang pagbabago ng temperatura ay magdudulot ng pagkaka-agnas ng patong na osona   Ako, Ikaw, Tayo kailangan nating magpakita ng pagpapahalaga sa ating kalikasan Ang Inang Kalikasan ay hindi na ito kakayanin pa.   Ang ating planeta ay sadyang napakahalaga, hindi na ito mapapalitan pa. Kailangan na natin kumilos ngayon bago pa mahuli ang lahat, at mabura ang ating mga tahanan sa mundong ating kinatatayuan.

The Earth Is All That Will Remain Jean Clarisse Caparas Wind, Snow, Heat and Rain, The Earth Is All That Will Remain So let your journey be Rich with Life until the end By leaving trails like extensions of a hand to lend. For others to grasp, reaching to pull them through Doing to others only as you would’ve done to you. Each day moving you closer to better health Unveiling with every step that this is truly wealth. Being able to see and do more than ever before As you walk, bike or scoot when exiting by the door. All Natural, Fresh and Pure guide the items you select Farm raised and produced with no chemicals to detect. And after your deeds are done, the Earth is what stays the same Being able to be Proud as you pass it along is what you gain. Wind, Snow, Heat & Rain, The Earth Is All That Will Remain

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For all your triumphs and conquests Your exultation and happiness Another feather added to your cap For that I applaud you.

life

For Alice mystique angel

For your aim of constant improvement Needed for your personal and professional development You certainly deserve what is due to your hard work For that I salute you. For all you have been through Your humble successes and even your stumbling failures You never ceased to acknowledge the higher power For that I admire you. For all the things you have imparted to me Your life that you have shared with me I am so privileged to be a part of you For that I thank you.

graduation by kuya vince and so it ends the scramble for printouts the race to beat deadlines the whole nine yards but boy did we have fun do you remember our first meeting boy was that awkward but hey did we have fun the music and the movies the giving and taking the fights—and making up boy did we have fun falling in and out of love beginnings and endings laughing at how stupid we were but boy did we have fun so goodbye losers how you’d won my heart you will never be forgotten cause boy did we have fun

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the harlot ky she’s what they call stunning an angel on earth, even. she’s always out by eleven under the night, she’s waiting she bats her red lips, charmingly while a cigarette, she holds. with tiny clothes, she gets cold. but she endures it, unknowingly. a man walks by, she smiles. ignored, she waits for another. a new one came and walks closer. he then asks, “what’s your price?” after a few whispers, a short talk, the man pulled money from his pocket. she’s a harlot i say, that’s her racket. she’s what demons want, what haters mock.

I’m Your Mysterious Guy [email protected] Are you wondering what lies behind those strange eyes? Only the child within can ever tell the real story. Nobody has the right to judge and even psyche. Just communicate and touch me intimately. Never compare what you have to what I have. Everyone has a different case of history. Treat me fairly and make me feel loved and you might be able to solve the mysteries. Make me comf ’table to reveal my soul to you by giving me hope and healing me all over. But if you’re one of me who act like I do, then I would say “Just do your own thing and I’ll do mine...”

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Nag-iisa Angelo S. Bonus Tunay na kaibigan, hanap nitong pag-iisa Naguguluhan at wari’y kulang sa pansin Hinanakit sa kapwa ang nangingibabaw Damang dama itong pag-iisa Buhay ko ba’y sadyang ganito Mamuhay ng nag-iisa Malayo sa mga tao at lipunan Upang mabigyan lang sila ng saya Peste bang ituring itong sarili Asong buntot nang buntot kung umasta Nakikisalo sa mga usapang hindi naman kasali Nakikialam sa mga buhay na hindi naman kabahagi Buhay ba ako o sadyang tanga? Masyadong sensitibo kung ako’y ilahad Kulang sa pansin sa harap ng iba Banat nila’y “Laging nag-iisa” Lagi akong nag-iisa para lang sa inyo Wari ko’y sakit na kailangan alisin Pag kailangan doon hinahanap Ngunit ‘pag nariyan ituring bang wala Mas masaya bang ako’y nag-iisa Malayo sa inyo at mga buhay niyo Sa pagkain, pagtulog, at kahit paglalakad Mas masaya ang nag-iisa Upang ang buhay niyo ay maging masaya.

Prisoner Rae Louis S. Maglaqui I have been encapsulated by distress For my reputation was besmirched When will I be freed from this wretched fortress? A dark room that prolongs my agony I want to shout! I want to die! I’m now a prisoner of a dreadful fate And my heart is as hard as a carapace Will I still continue to fight? Will I still continue to live? Or continue to dwell in this dreary, gloomy cell?

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I love you Daddy BENJILICIOUS BS-PSYCHOLOGY 3-A I need to tell you something, but the words, I’m afraid I cannot find even though they lie here perfectly not to mention safe - inside my mind. I want to scream it out oh so loud and clear, but I am stringently held back by my ever so concrete fear. Will you accept what I tell you with unlimited compassion and grace? Or will I, from your lives, forever be erased? Should I risk opening my mouth and face what I’m fearing most? Or should I keep it quiet maybe never go home? If I open my mouth I know that questions will be asked questions I’m not so sure I can answer. But before the questions will come the familiar look of disappointment and hurt. This dreadful look I have seen one too many times before I can recognize it easily it is burned in me deep and to the core. Two words as simple as “Happy Birthday” yet so much more complicated to say. Might as well say “I’m about to drop a bombshell on you so you better get out of the way!” Complicated, yet so simple at the same time; the road leading to these two words is a difficult one to climb. Normally these two words are shared with happiness but not this time my situation’s different because through future dishonor and fear I will be sharing mine. Not only will I be letting you down, I’ll be letting my little sister down too. I’ve always tried to be a good role model for her but I always managed to screw up in everything I tried to do. This will only give her confirmation that her big brother is a screw up. I just don’t want her to mess up that’s my job I am the family f__ up. This will only prove right what my friend has told me so many times before,

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“Stop trying to make them proud, it’s a waste of your time, you aren’t good enough anymore.” I don’t want that I don’t want things to go back to the way they were but if I get up the guts to share this news I’m afraid that all of the above will occur. If I dare say these two words, you’re going to want me to say more words words so well rehearsed in my mind. I would try to speak and tell you those words but they’d come out wrong, so I would only be lying. Maybe I won’t tell you because I know that all I could say is “I’m sorry” as you sit there jaw’s dropped to the floor in awe “I’m sorry... mom and dad... that you’re going to be a grandma and grandpa.”

Nuit Blanche Lawrence T. Manansala Crespuscule comes Darkness creeps Slowly Majestically Night predominates None escapes Tranquility reigns Minds at rest Souls at peace To some... It is the elucidation In contrast To a nomadic mind And a tormented soul Taciturnity broken Reality forsaken Risk taken Queries soon forgotten Principles rotten World shaken Doubt Truth All things happen So seldom Such moment So often.

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The Goodness In You mystique angel There is so much goodness in you Cultivate, sow and reap it Multiply and share it Be a reflection of kindness and gentleness Be an inspiration to others through your goodness. Draw out goodness in people Affirm them Boost their morale Bring out the best in them Help them utilize their potentials to the fullest They are worthy of the best things in life because of their goodness. Goodness has a transformative power An angry heart may be calmed down due to kindness A wounded, afflicted soul may gain comfort from your kindness Kindness extended to a heavy hearted person can warm his heart and lighten his load. Make a difference in someone else’s life You shall surely linger in the hearts of those you’ve touched Keep spreading love and goodness That’s your legacy... for life.

Path Joseph Lawrence T. Manansala

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Slow Shaking Waiting Daunted to reveal Haunted by fear I drove towards the broken road Pain, torment and melancholy Unbearable to hold Then and there I felt cold I was lost For a while I cannot help but smile Asked my self why Soon I realized What I was told Test of my fate It’s never too late Pertinence of my faith I’ve been seeing the light of dead stars Those struggle show the scars Sacrifice I have to give For better days Tomorrow I shall live.

I am Nursing (Revisited) Samboy Musngi I am a nurse called by God To care for people who’s health is bad I am Nursing I am nurse and your best friend To help you in the best way I can I am Nursing I am a nurse; not just an ordinary super hero in a comic book Ready to serve you by hook or by crook I am Nursing I am nurse; half human, part angel An angel?! Well ask the patient and they will surely tell I am Nursing I am a nurse, shining like the brightest star With radiance that can heal every wound without leaving any scar I am Nursing I am nurse and it is not just merely a vocation Armed with scientific and moral values and it’s a noble profession I am Nursing I am a nurse and also an ordinary doctor’s helper I am a complete professional. Helper? Well excuse me I am Nursing I am a nurse, on my body runs the the royal blood of Florence Nightingale The “Lady in the lamp”. The legendary heroine of the Crimean tale I am Nursing I am a nurse. An interpersonal genius Adaptive to any patient point of views I am Nursing I am a nurse world second best care giver And care taker next to your mother I am Nursing I am nurse. my uniform stands for service and purity and I love Grey’s Anatomy I am Nursing I am a nurse. Bound to save those who cursed I am Nursing Antonym of suffering

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Nostalgia Samboy Musngi Parang kailan lang inuubos ang pera sa mga NBA cards Ngayon na-adik sa Huntress, Assassin at Bard Dati si Super Mario ang pinakamagaling Subalit pinalit mo na si Phantom Lancer at Sandking Naalala mo ba pag pinagse-siesta ni mama? Magbeberat at magsusumbong kay lola. Isa o dalawang oras lang sa Gameboy, ok ka na Pero ang maghapon sa YM at prenster ay kulang pa Alam mo ba ng nag-grand slam ang Alaska? At si Jawo nang sa senado kumasa? O ang jersey # 23 ng Chicago Bulls… Walang kapantay ang kanyang rule Marahil madalas kang maligo sa ulan Maglaro maghapon at makipag-taguan Kumaway pag may eroplanong nagdaraan Magpaalam o tawagin kahit di alam ang dahilan Sa iyong notebook, may drawing ka nina Sailormoon at Son Goku Kabisado ang lahat ng episodes maging mga theme song nito Napaiyak ka rin ba nang mamatay si Battle Hopper? Napasabay sa suntok at sipa ni Maskrider Inumpisahan hangaan and Pugad Baboy ni Pol Medina Nahumaling kahit sa klase’y binabasa Pinilit isinaulo ang multiplication table Upang sa eksamen maging pasado! Natatandaan mo pa ba? Mga inakyatan mong puno ng mangga? Ang pagha-hunting ng gagamba Labanan ng text, goma sa iyong kababata. Eh ang Eheads at ang kanilang Huling El Bimbo? Buo pa nun ang “Maya” kasama sina Bamboo at Rico? Natatandaan mo pa ba? Sila oo. Pati sina Chito Yung mga bayani noon sa radyo….

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Thorn Lady pritizcel

do

When you walk on the road expect people’s heads would turn to you You always get the attention as you always

You have the beauty of a goddess Act and talk like an empress and always have that sweetness like that of a princess But what a shame cause you’ll never be like one of them You’re too salty to be sweet You have such words when you speak And you never possess a heart with a goddess’s beauty You have your palace but your soul lives in a cave You have acquaintances but you treat them like slaves You have everything but your heart is already in the grave You may live the way you like a life without light You may be an eye catcher but remember, the time would come that your reign would be over

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love

Your Angel mystique angel Let me be the light that brightens your day The path when you are lost on your way Your hope when you say come what may Let me be your angel. Let me be the breeze that refreshes you An inspiration in the things you do Your delight when I say, “I’ll never get tired of you” Let me be your angel. Let me be there for you always by your side I offer you my heart open-wide No need for you to turn away or hide Let me be your angel. Let me be the ear that listens to your sigh The shoulder that says, “Go on and cry” You unload your worries to me so I may not pry Let me be your angel. When the day has ended and night has come And all of the day’s work have been accomplished and done You ponder happy thoughts and start a melody to hum Tranquility fills your soul and you remember me ‘Cause I’M YOUR ANGEL.

Amaranthine Sky Alvie John Magat I stared at your beautiful eyes, But you looked away, I tried to approach you, But you walked away, I talked to you, And you did talk to me, We have those sweet moments, I have them in my memory, like a fever that isn’t supposed to get cured. A whisper of the air, Entwining of its notes soft and steady, A ghost of your presence, Leaving its ephemeral trace, An evanescence of your pull,

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Falling away through time and space, A flicker of a moment, Escaping without thought, Your eyes held a portal, To a place that I belong, I’ll be singing of you in a song Gazing into the amaranthine sky, Reflecting in the star’s light, Sparkling in the eclipse of night, You’re just a falling star already caught.

Corny HYDE Manununtok na lamang s’ya bigla, Maninipa kapag kumontra ka, Sasabihin na mas macho pa s’ya, Kapag ika’y umangal, patay ka! Sinasabi niya na siya’y lalaki, Kinikindatan mga babae, ‘Pag siya’y pumorma ika’y mahuhuli, Mas magaling siyang dumiskarte. Sa paghatid sa kanya pauwi, Mang-aapi nanamang muli, Walang maisasagot kung di ngiti, Pagkat tunay kang mabibighani. Hindi ko malaman, bakit siya pa? Bumihag sa puso at isipan, Sa bawat oras na kasama siya, Saya ko ay hindi mahigitan. Siguro nga, siya ay mahal ko na, Ang hinahanap lagi ay siya, Ang kanyang kilos at kanyang galaw, Magandang matang napakapanglaw, Ngayo’y sigurado, siya’y mahal na, Ako’y masaya ‘pag nariyan siya, Maton man, sa aki’y nag-iisa, Corny man, siya’y aking minamahal…

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Why God is better than an annoying boyfriend Kriselle ‘sey’ Jhean A. Navarro A boyfriend may fancy another prettier woman But God will love you whole because you’re a human Boyfriends get jealous when their girls look at another guy But God gave you freedom to choose and he won’t ask why Some boyfriends can’t accept your past God won’t care as long as your love will last BF’s may break their promises when they are still courting you But God will never ever leave you and that is true Don’t call or message your bf for a week, he’ll get mad Don’t call God, he won’t be angry even if you’ve been bad Some annoying boyfriends can’t forget their ex God doesn’t forget his love to all, He doesn’t need a hex A boyfriend may be constantly late for dates God is never late to understand all your ‘hates’ Some boyfriends do not treat their girls carefully Dear God loves us in the best way, totally But then if your BOYFRIEND is close to and has deep faith in GOD You’re indeed a lucky girl so don’t hurt that lover, that’s bad

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“drop dead, gorgeous” ky you’re the prettiest star when the empty sky is clear a timeless music to those who can’t hear you’re the loveliest rose among the lilies you’re a piece of art to the blind and silly your soothing voice sounds like thunder the way you talk, oh! just like murder. you are a candle: a candle in the dark. and the view gets darker when you’re lit by a spark. your smile’s pretty, priceless and unique in two days, it’ll be an antique.

Hans Bleeding inside About to explode The pain is all around I cannot escape Death to my heart is near With this death comes No feeling no caring no fear It builds up the wall Calluses the heart Not letting anyone in The bleeding inside It’s caused by love Love that has been hindered By God up above For if I can’t have The woman I love May death to my heart Come fast so never to love again For without my true love I’d rather live a life in solitude Without my true love I’m forever alone

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chapter one: “because” ~stra~ There she is. I think I might be one of the reasons why she stayed. She stayed not for the reason that I asked her to but because I forced her. I was being too selfish. I knew that she didn’t want to. I knew it would be hard for her. But did I care? No. I was too busy thinking about the joy that I’m going to have if she stayed. And she did stay. She’s there. Right, she’s there. Why isn’t she beside me? Maybe because she wants to enjoy her last months with the class before she leaves permanently by next year. Does it mean that her enjoyment would not include being with me? Perhaps. And just maybe there is no reason why she should be beside me. NONE. Wanting her near me is selfishness. She isn’t even mine. Once again, my wanting leaves me with the feeling that I am invisible. Or from the start, was I already unseen by her? Am I just a voice? But this is what I wanted. I said that I would be more than happy just by seeing her each day; just by knowing she’s present. Now why do I want more than just laying eyes on her? Because this is what I am. dumb. dumb and crying. Yes, I’m crying. Because I am invisible, and it isn’t even my

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choice. But I must endure this. Because for every tear that drops from my eye means a smile for her. A tear for a priceless smile. I wish that I could flood the world with my tears so she’ll never have to be sad again. I wish I could do everything for her until I reach the point that I can’t anymore. yeah, I could wish. I was told to do what I think was right. I was told to do what would make me happy. Seeing her makes me happy though she doesn’t see me. And I think it’s just right not to force myself to get close to her. It’s right not to be in haste. In her I find hope. My distance from her gives her joy. And in crying I find happiness. “No more because.”

For you George Michael Maybe it’s time to say I love you, In our crystal part of sweetness, Care to each other and giving Honest feeling to one another. Enjoying the colorful worlds, that Lay in our deepest heart and Let the spirit of love would Engage our ever lasting feelings. My life is on the right way And I won’t cross the wrong one. Giving the best direction, and the Distance that indeed to travel. All my life is in your hand, the Over populated of your love will be my Nectar in the big card of our life, Go with the flow, and I’m with you now and forever…

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Unbearable Questions of Love Hazel Guanlao How can I let go of someone I had never touched? How can I move on, from something that never did exist? How can I give up something that is not mine? How can I say goodbye to someone I never had? Why do tears fall for someone who doesn’t belong to me? Why does my heart break for someone who was never mine? Why do I miss someone I was never with? Why did I fall for someone who is intended to catch someone else? And I’ll ask why, why do I love someone whose love will never be mine? How will I end a relationship that never started? How will I wake up in this dream that took my reality? And how will I stop loving you when all my life all I did was love you?

The Love I Never Had Hazel Guanlao I wish I could be there for you Be there when no one cares for you Protect you when the whole world is against you Hold you as I whisper I love you And spent the rest of my whole life with you But all this things I can never do I have seen from afar and there I fell in love with you I never dared to cross the bridge between me and you I was afraid to hurt myself and hurt you I built walls around my heart just to stay away from you I was waiting for the right time to say I love you It never came he was already there for you I have waited for you for so long For that true and real love that I long Only to realize I cannot have it all along

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Because to someone else you belong Now I need to forget you and move on I need to stop this love on going on I’m going to do what is right I’m giving you up on this fight I’m not sure if I’ll be alright For this is not what I want but this is right I’ll let go of the love I had hold on so tight The love I‘ve failed to say, but I’ll say it in everything that I write I don’t regret falling in love with you What I regret is I wasn’t able to say how much I love you This is the first and the last time I’ll say I love you Now I’ll say adieu to the love I never hard and to you

“Jezica” Rae Louis S. Maglaqui The sweetest life, the wildest death is love, A sentiment everyone knows, even a little boy. But doth not play with it ‘cause love is not a toy. Love gracefully flies in the air like a dove. Ready to pull your heart out like a glove… Love is like heaven, the cherubim’s joy, But sometimes it brings pain and sorrow to annoy, Yet it is a gift come from heavens above. A little thing called love is only for human’s sake; A thing that can also make your eye a misty river; Can we call it love if a father kisses her little girl? Or a couple dating in the middle of the lake; Yes! This is love, so give thanks to the giver! Though its process is convoluted like how thoughts swirl.

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How Will You Tell Me That You Love Me? yraidyliad 02 Modnar Seadi We never really said that we love each other But we hang out more than just for a sister or a brother I’ve held my lips just enough so the words won’t escape from me And then I dwell into the dream that you would want us to have more than just tea I dream so often that you’ll someday propose to my dear heart It felt so true only that it stops just at the last part I had so much thoughts but I could not imagine either on how you’ll tell To this heart I keep, to others I just can’t sell I wonder if you’ll tell me in our language or use foreign ones Would you tell me abruptly or slowly while holding my hands? Would it be when I’m soulfully prepared or would you just say it plain, simple, and unexpectedly? Would it be when we’re alone, or when we have others for company? But really I don’t care how you’ll tell me or the world I just hope that before others you’ll tell my father first, our Lord Because if you do, it only means that you love Him more than me Then I’ll be contented waiting on how you’ll tell me that you love me.

Love Me Alvie John Magat Love me in the Springtime, when all is green and new, Love me in the Summer, when the sky is oh so blue, Love me in the Autumn, when the leaves are turning brown, Love me in the Winter, when the snow is falling down. Love me when I’m happy, and even when I’m sad, Love me when I’m good, or when I’m oh so bad, Love me when I’m pretty, or if my face is

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plain, Love me when I’m feeling good, or when I’m feeling pain. Love me always darlin’, in the rain or shining sun, Love me always darlin’, after all is said and done, Love me always darlin’, until all our life is through, Love me always darlin’, for I’ll be lovin’ you!

Loving Companion in Life’s Journey mystique angel Once we were strangers, immersed in our own worlds Each had individual joys to celebrate and sorrows to lament Then we found each other and got along easily That a binding force seemed to connect us as days went on Best of friends we are now and partners as we have coined Learning from and inspiring each other through our experiences Drawing and encouraging one another during hard times Searching and yearning for each one’s love and comfort Realizing that our meeting was not merely coincidental in our journey But destiny would have allowed us to cross our paths Now we have offered a piece of ourselves To hold and to treasure for the rest of our lives Though our journey would be long and winding With much obstacles that hurdle us on our way But with our unwavering presence and support We shall cross over and reach our destination And may this bond set our fate for a lifelong companionship As long as there is still you and I.

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Mamang Kriselle Jhean A. Navarro If I’m gonna say “my mother is the best one in this universe” That ain’t enough coz my mom is my UNIVERSE There’s no mother like my very own Mamang She’s the bravest, even willing to fight the bad ‘Aswang’ She’s feared by the crooks in our subdivision And won’t care if someone is affected by her true opinion Outspoken and loud, that’s what she is Yet for her, the biggest reward is mine and Joy’s kiss With all the trials her spoiled Sey is experiencing She’s always there to comfort my feeling Joyjoy may be so frivolous and ‘makulit’ Mamang is still sweet and ready to hug her ‘baby bulilit’ One of a kind, that’s what Mamang is If together with Papang, they’re a couple made of bliss A woman filled with so much love, She’s the best gift given by THE ONE above.

My only wish this Christmas Hans Tiglao Dear Santa, there is a guy who needs you bad always lonesome and very sad every night he lays and cries for an evil girl hurtful lies. The days last so long and the nights feel all wrong. The air is getting colder and he needs someone to hold him. Can you send someone sweet to be his Christmas treat who will always love him so and make his blue eyes glow

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No one knows his hidden desire to find a love who’s not a liar. He doesn’t need a wrapped up box just a girl who really rocks! All he wants is someone to love can you bring an angel from above to wrap him up warm and tight hold him close, all through the night with deep green eyes who never lies gentle but strong who can do no wrong Bring him a love so white and pure and make it so he can always be sure that when she comes she will always stay and never leave him to fly away i know what he wants may be a lot but for this one thing he has always sought please forgive his past mistakes cuz the tears he cries could fill up lakes Santa, please, you are his only hope i promise you, sir, they wont elope he just needs someone cute and fun to be his girl and only one. -With So Much Love And Hopeful Wishes, A True Believer in Your Magic

Nyx R. L. Maglaqui The darkness shaded the somnolent trees, Only the fireflies who give lambent light To the serene, somber, and soundless night And it put me into the state of reminiscing memories. I saw the stars forming constellations, They made me remember the time I held your arms, As I gaze sweetly upon your loving charms Oh, I want to love again and see the visions. Then I saw the moon looking at me; Waves and flashes of memory calls again. I promise! Tonight will be the last night; The last night I’ll cry many tears over thee. For once, I want to sleep over the moonlit glen… To forget thee while lying in the real beauty of the night.

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Searching... & Waiting… BEnjilicious s0 mysterious We spend our whole lives thinking  and wishing it to be perfect... people come and go, Some leave with an mark on our lives, causing us to change as a person. Others come along to not leave a mark but to be a mark of love, trust and happiness.  We wait for that day to be able to know the true feeling of love.  But yet it is said without meaning. I Love you! There is a reason for everything, a reason to live and love.  BENJ i asked myself, whats your reason?.... I live to love i love to cherish every special moment with that special person, to look back on my life knowing i have fufilled the passions everyone else dreams of. So i wait wait wait wait wait.... knowing and wishing for her to be the one i can cherish my special moments with! To never let her go, to always care with the passion of a thousand romeos and juliets... her heart to never be broken... BUT CHERISHED FOR A LIFE TIME! TRUE LOVE IN MY EYES!

Searching For True Love [email protected] It starts to storm As I walk through this grassy field My heart is torn And the raindrops, become my tears I’m searching for my soul mate Someone that’s hard to find I don’t know how long it will take I will just give myself time Will I ever find her Is something that I worry about All the other searches have been a failure And now, I search with doubts I shouldn’t have doubts, I got to believe Even though I’m filled with sadness and sorrow If I find her, these feelings would be

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relieved She’ll make me live as if there’s no tomorrow She’ll give my life meaning A life worth living for She’ll love me with strong feelings And I won’t have a broken heart anymore I can’t wait until the day we get together That’s my biggest dream Two soul mates love each other forever Together, they are a team I pray for the day when I find my soul mate The girl for me that’s right I will find her, no matter how long it takes And when I find her, I will hold her in my arms tight But at the end of the day I’m all alone And tears keep running down this sad face As I continue to roam The storm has settled down And the beautiful night sky appears While I’m the only one around Shedding these tears

Serenade Theresa M. Baldo (Dedicated to Rose and Regina Bondoc, Rae Louis Maglaqui, and Aldrin Alquero) Rainy days may come and pass Or a few tears may have been shared Seems you never failed to show you cared Every year we hoped won’t be the last Reminiscing the times we thought it was over Endings can really make us wonder Getting harder it seems, the problems and tests It doesn’t matter ‘cause together we’re fine Now and forever our friendship is the best And forever our star will shine Ravishing and intelligence is not enough And though I taunt you and I may seem cruel Existence is worthless without you that much I’m sure A friendship that has become a song in my heart Lyrics and music built my memories Dedicated to my friends Real fantasies do come true I found it in you, my confidant Never will I replace the 12 years we had

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Untold Alvie John Magat Sometimes at night, when I look to the sky, I start thinking of you and then ask myself, why? Why do I love you? I think and smile, because I know the list could run on for miles. The whisper of your voice, the warmth of your touch, so many little things that make me love you so much. The way you support me, and help with my emotions, the way that you care and show such devotion. The way that your kiss, fills me with desire, and how you hold me with the warmth of a blazing fire. The way your eyes shine when you look at me, lost with you forever is where I want to be. The way that I feel when you’re by my side, a sense of completion and overflowing pride. The dreams that I dream, that all involve you, the possibilities I see and the things we can do. How you finish the puzzle that lies inside my heart, how that deep in my soul, you are the most important part. I could go on for days, telling of what I feel, but all you really must know is my love for you is real.

the star’s response ky (a reply to “The Star” from Pluma 07-08) “the light i shone was for you: a call hear my voice, catch this star’s fall. my radiance did outshine all the stars’ so bright; for you to see my scars.” “you looked up, stopped and gave a smile, my vain was gone and for a while: you bowed your head and started to pray, ‘please take me in’ were words i heard you say” “i extended my rays down to touch you; to hold and take away from the blue. a mere mortal up the sky, you were to be, and death you were to await with me.” “your presence neared but was lost suddenly; when the sun shone, i was still there, but you let go of me. why did you choose to listen to the sun, when you were in my embrace; we were one?”

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“Thou Trapped Me in Thy Bittersweet Word” RLSM Thou trapped me in thy bittersweet word, Like thine smile as sharp as the blades of fan. Now thee are my word, powerful than a sword; And thy face will be loved by every man. Seeing thy beauty is seeing the cerulean sky, For thou are the one who gives me eternal life, Like how God gave the breath of the birds that fly. But thou didst drop me in thy heart, now stab me with knife! If not, it’s like I breathe while wrapped in thick wool, Because the harsh mishaps of reality wounded my heart; Twas then that I began to play as a fool, Until our world, my life, my dreams were torn apart. Thou shalt dispose me like a garbage bag, Cause I’ll wait for thee until the ground will sag.

True Feelings Hans Tiglao Such a strong feeling, Why won’t it go away? I just can’t help it, I think about them all day. What I’m experiencing, No one understands, Can’t I just get over them? Why must this love stand? I don’t know what it was, That drew me to them, It must have been  mysterious but special, For such an attraction to begin. Nothing’s going to change this, What I’ve felt for so long, My heart’s telling me right, But my head’s saying it’s wrong. If only I could tell them, Just share with them how I feel, But it’s almost impossible, It’s just too unreal. Some say its a sickness, But I know this love is true, Such a strong desire in my heart, And there’s nothing I can do.

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I’m hoping and praying, That one day. they’ll see, And feel the same passion, This time for me. I’m wishing and waiting, That she will find me.. and give the unconditional love That I’m longing to feel and change me But ‘til then I must wait, For this dream to come true, And if she finds that I can love her, I can return the love too.

A.R.I.E.N. Ivy Tricia M. Trinidad A spark of hope glistening through the dark Moonlit lanes of sheer and everlasting mark Cold ripples dominated by warm breeze Comfort and zeal, felt slowly from a kiss Rainbow reflections beaming upside down The skyline illuminates behind mountains brown Leaves swathed with caress of raindrops So pretty, so sweet as lollipops Innocent birds, they fly with gusto The sun shining through silver waters flow Sweet air sweeping through a visage so radiant Whose eyes sparkle like a joyful infant Engraved through pebbles covered with moss Are flourishing promises from a love I cherish the most Flowers whose fragrance emulsifies what seems like ‘forever’ Like the love I pray that I’ll lose never Nothing’s more stunning than a face so magical With all these illusions, life seems so fictional But everything’s real and occurring for me All, everything’s beautiful when I’m with thee

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Bliss Ivy Tricia M. Trinidad Something in me amplifies enormously It’s fulfilling and I like it genuinely Like the ocean moving through its currents My mind is filled with happy moments Priceless, should I describe them All the things shared through our tandem Nothing compares to what we’ve been through Just because we love each other so true “You can’t have the best of both worlds,” as they say But I’m lucky, I do have them, hey! Just because I have you is enough To make me survive this life that’s so tough It’s you that I wanna die with, my angel May it be heaven or a taste of hell I love you and I know it’s forever It’s a promise and we’ll make it together

chapter two: “my poison” ~stra~ i’m plagued with this emotion that won’t let me be at peace. but i love it. i love every second of this craziness. i love the fact that i am going nowhere. my mind has been controlled by my heart so thinking is what i can’t do anymore. still, i live; though i feel dead. i can’t let go of this poison of mine. i’m slowly consumed by the minute and yet, i refuse to get it off me. i find pleasure in pain: the pain that she brings, the pain that i choose to suffer. as my poison crawls through my veins, i wonder; will i die if i rid myself of it? will i witness another sunrise? will i dream of her saving me once more? I CAN FEEL IT AGAIN. IT’S INSIDE ME. yes, she’s my poison right now. yet, could she be the one who saves me?

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Dreams Come True Jaymie Muli BSE-1 If I would have my dreams come true These are the things I’d like to do To have a cabin deep in the woods And to have someone to share both the bad and the good. We’d lie by the fireplace, forever it seems And share with each other our future dreams As we’re tired of talking we’d snuggle up close These are times I’d cherish the most. The times when I feel so close to someone Who gives me such pleasure and so much fun Who isn’t afraid of what the future may bring And share so much love that our hearts sing. Sometimes I wonder, will my dreams come true, And ask myself, could it be with you? I don’t have the answer, at least not to share I’m afraid if I share them you wouldn’t care So, until the time comes, when the timing is right I’ll cherish our time everyday & night And if in the future, our dreams become one Then I know that my dreams have only begun. To have you beside me through the rough seas and good I know we’d make magic, I’m sure we could For you are my soulmate, I believe in my heart And to get to our dreams we must first make a start. So, please take my hand, don’t be afraid I believe that together our cabin will be made I’ll never doubt my feelings for you And if you return them, all our dreams can come true.

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fences ~stra~ i built these fences to keep away from you to kill my sadness to wash away the blue miles from you these fences kept me but my darn feeling won’t let me be each day on these fences i look over to watch you live as i keep my cover. over these fences i shout: i love you, ------! though in return is hurt agayne.

For You Are My Beau Jessica Julia C. Jose BS Arch-4A Feeling blessed for rescuing me I don’t wanna go back to the way I used to be Feeling special for reaching me out I’ll always trust in You, without a doubt Now I’m a lover of Yours Without You in me, my life will be worse I fix my eyes in You alone I live for You and I am Your own What You did for me is the greatest love The hope that has found me, is now what I have The joy of knowing You makes my life so full To breathe without You is to create in me a fool Nothing compares to the strength that You give It keeps me holding on, in Your promises I believe The enemy can’t take You away from me Now that I am new, I love the new me I don’t care what they will say The world may fall but with you I will stay Jesus, I’ll never be ashamed of You And I won’t be afraid for You are my Beau

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Gitara eald Ing bie anti yamu namang gitara. E mipakinabangnan nung eme dinan nota. Miyaliwang nota na ika mismu ing gagawa. Sasambitan na ing panandaman ning kekang diwa. Ing pangabiyasa emu basta-basta, Manasakit ka pamu bayu me apagana. Anti yamo ning bie nung buri meng masagana, Pagsumikapan meng dinan malagung nota. Ing bawat kuwerdas ning metung a gitara, Importanti ya para king metung a kanta. Ustung iti mewala ya, Ing bie ning kanta maliwa ya rima. Ing metung a gitara salamin ne ning amu na. Ing notang lulwal kaya, ‘yang sasambitan ning pusu na. N’ya nung ika malungkut ka, Kuwanan me ing gitara… Uling anti ya namang kaluguran, Nung nanung kekang panandaman, Iya, agyu nakang damayan.

go to sleep ~stra~ you broke what can’t be mended and shattered what can’t be moved you killed what shouldn’t be dead and left it lifeless for good you took all there is to take and promised to return none; it was your nature to break and in a second you’re gone. now that you are in my arms vengeance is mine, finally! close your eyes as you are harmed, go to sleep, eternally.

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I can’t take my eyes off you Jaymie Muli BSE I If walls could talk They’d tell how much I miss you All this time There’s no one but you in my mind How could I ever make it without you? But now you are gone There’s nothing more I could do Now everywhere I go The air screams your name These grains of grass remind me of how much we’ve danced before It still lingers on my mind, back in time when I told you “You are the music in me” But now the music left my life There’s no rhythm that I can dance to and the magic is all gone The moon would never shine in my sky again Stardust would never fall on my hair again My life was in turmoil since you left Filled with undefined emotions and vague points of view You never let me sleep at night Like a ghost who haunts me I accepted defeat and hopelessly lost heart Everyday was a battle of black, blue and grey hues As I watch the sunset alone I felt like it was my dramatic downfall And it just made me sob As the calm ocean swallowed its great colors But now, it’s over, it’s over, why is it now? I’ve given everything just to breathe the air that you breath Till the day that I die I can’t take my eyes off you!

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Irita Edge Layo sumpa ng may lalang Tago ka at wag magpakita Sugo ka ng kadiliman Kaya ako’y lubayan Ikaw ba ay buntot ko? Dikit ka ng dikit Anino ba kita Para sunod ka ng sunod Tingin mo rin ay nakakalusaw Parang kakain ng buhay Ulam ba ako kung ituring Pinapapak unti unti Irita, Irita, Nakakairita Iwan mo ako buntot ng sumpa Hindi kita anino kaya ako’y lubayan Isa kang sakit na dapat iwasan Katahimikan at espasiyo lang Ibigay mo na sana Kakairita ang iyong pagbuntot Tigilan pati iyong paglapit.

Lightning Jessica Julia C. Jose BS Arch 4A Oh, summer is over But the beautiful song still lingers Yeah, summer is over But its chords are stranded on my fingers As raindrops begin to fall Will the thunder remind me again Of the soundtrack and the call That I used to hear back then? Oh, the strings of summer were confusing Its melody is kinda hard to find Yeah this thought has left me choosing To play something that’s just half defined As the thunder begins to roll, Will it remind somebody Of the soundtrack and the call That we used to share so madly?

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Oh, yesterday was a winding road But today bestows a longer distance

Yeah, the song reminded somebody of my load Yet it couldn’t tell if it’s just a mere chance As the song keeps me into thinking, Will somebody ever love another? Of all the colors that keep on striking, Will I always be somebody’s thunder?

my awakening ~stra~ dreams of you be dead and all hath been said suffered long have i this be last goodbye i’ve fallen and loved but my effort, snubbed everything, i did in the end, i bleed. my heavens you took with only one look you be very rough; this be when i stop. go your own way, be gone: you’re not the only one.

My Inspiration Jaymie Muli BSE-1 Is this the moment of query? Or this is just ordinary? Is it just only affection? Or true love obsession? When the time that you caught my heart, I can’t sleep all through the night. In every step I make everyday Your face is painted on my way. You’re the man that I can’t surrender. Since we became friends, You made my life complete But now, friendship and whatever might complete. How could I take these feelings away? When all the questions bother my mind everyday Perhaps there will be some answers to these questions. And tell you, “Maybe you’re my inspiration.”

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out of boredom: a countdown ~stra~ the clock says eight fifty-five nothing seems to have changed now it dropped a minute more all is still the same. an hour already passed the clock now reads nine fifty-nine the sun is at its brightest and i’m still waiting. time flew by quickly it’s already three o’ two i went out, all’s normal another ordinary day. now it’s nine o’ clock pm too late to fly a kite, too early to sleep and so wait more, i’ll do finally, the time is upon the clock speaks, tick-tock it says i eagerly wait, patiently a few seconds more, and...

princess almost perfect ~ stra ~ with a crown or without, it’s obvious, no doubt. she’s sunshine in a dress, to no one, she’s less. her smile is contagious: (like) falling stars set loose. her happiness is grand: magic without a wand. the entire world dies when this princess cries. for she, too, gets frail, she grieves when love does fail. in her eyes there is truth. almost perfect, no dispute.

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Someone Samboy Musngi Keeping you in my heart is all I can do My days are incomplete without thinking of you Your aura, voice and thy gentle face And in my heart, that no one could ever replace Light me with the radiance from afar With your eyes, the brightest among the stars Looking at your addictive pictures on the Net Turned my sun to never set An ordinary poem for a very special woman That completes my whole being and makes me feel a man To the owner of the smile that stunned my soul And makes my cold heart fall Riches, fame, honor, I may not promise you But only my heart I can offer and all the air I breathe too Without you, I will never be a better person A future nurse. Hopefully. Thanks for the inspiration Every beat of my heart shouts your name Longing for you thus driving me insane But in my dreams you’ll come and touch me The real angel and you will always be Nights are sleepless waiting for this moment To tell you all of my soul’s sentiments And with this pen I reveal My emotions that can never be sealed Close your eyes, listen to my heart Listen as it tells us that you’re the missing part Make me feel like Seth and Dr. Rice Enjoying every life’s sunset and sunrise Even I may not be the lucky one To care for you and to hold thy hand Please continue to rock, write and share And be safe and remember someone who will always care

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Untitled Samboy Musngi Here I am, Lying on the bed; listening to the rain Trying not to miss your smile, voice and everything about you Thinking of you too much can cause much pain That breaks my heart down to my soul through I want to go to that old damn place Kiss your forehead and touch your face Watch the beautiful stars with you as they shed their light Cause I know that you’ll also love stargazing at night. Reading thy poems granting me love and peace Your words taste like a sweet special kiss Thank you for always me making good For sharing your talent under your hood Hoping that one day we’ll write together With great works of love that will last forever Take my hand and be my lady And I will look after you my baby You’re the best thing that happened in The history of my life You made a great impact on me A thousand times more powerful than an Azura strike We’ll play PS and your favorite Gunbound Go basketball or just under the moon simply walk around I am very grateful to Him for sending you and making me feel better And please stay with me until both of us get older.

What Love is Jaymie Muli BSE I

on

Love is a journey, not a destination It is a verb… an action we choose to carry Love is a contrast: hard to find, easy to lose It opens your eyes but makes you obtuse

Love is a gift, not an obligation A glamorous gift to treasure, not a game to gamble Love is like a flame, beautiful if controlled Dangerous if blocked

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Love is a complete mystery It has no definition Only existence and a part of life as an illusion Don’t be afraid to love, For it is the most wonderful thing that could happen Yet it is the most confusing feeling you will ever experience Loving a person is not forcing to or Because of But you must love one in spite of…

wheRe i belong… Astig Samboy Musngi It just started with my curiosity When I tried to join this community A community that brings service to the university Composed of good and talented children and a mother, honestly I still remember… it was the first day of class To enter their office and assigned me task It gave me much pressure and a headache Promise ya man! It’s not just a piece of cake I’ve been a stranger in that place But they always greet me with a smile on their face They treat me very nicely Like a real part of this one big happy family Sorry for being a failure and unnecessary actions I’m just always carried by my emotions Well, thank you in believing in thee For all the good things you see in me There’s nothing more I can say For the company and pieces of advice everyday I am very grateful for accepting me as I am For the warm welcome from your arms Thank you for being good brothers and sisters And second mother. I am always with you in prayers

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The short story is like an old friend who calls whenever he is in town. We are happy to hear from it; we casually fan the embers of past intimacies, and buy it lunch. R. Z. Sheppard

Pr se Short stories & essays

Mistaken

Short story by Sheryl Sagana

“Love is complex. It isn’t as easy as ABC nor as simple as 1+1…”

I

t was quite a cold night. The wind blew hard and raindrops kept falling, making that noise on the roof. I was lying on my bed, thinking of what I have seen in my dream. I knew I was already awake. It was about 11:45 p.m. I tried to relax my mind but something kept bothering me. I knew it was my dream. Suddenly, I was frightened. Then tears started falling from my eyes. I couldn’t stop myself. I was confused. My heart began to beat faster. I didn’t know what was happening. There seemed to be chaos between my heart and my mind. The next day, I felt so gloomy. Still, I was bothered by my dream. But I had to stand up and fix myself so I could go to work. I was about to leave the house when the phone rang… it was Ancel, my fiancé… He said, “Good morning, bheibie… Just dropping by to say ‘I Love You’… eat your breakfast.” I replied, “Thanks… I love you too.” Then we cut the conversation. It was Thursday. The next day would be our fifth anniversary. I knew we loved each other. That’s why we’ve gone this far. Yet, why am I feeling this way? Why am I frightened? Is this because of my dream? But it was just a dream… an illusion… it meant nothing! It was our anniversary. We had our date. “Bheibie, this is our fifth anniversary. I can’t believe our relationship lasted this long. I thank God for giving me a girl like you. I love you so much, bheibie.” Ancel said. “I love you too bheibie”, I replied. I uttered those five words yet there was doubt in my heart. It was the first time I had difficulty saying those words. I never felt this before. We spent the whole night together. He kept on doing romantic things. But I remained silent. Then, he noticed my reaction and asked, “What’s wrong? Are you not happy?” I replied quickly, “Nothing. Of course I’m happy. I just feel sick. Sorry.” “Oh, sorry, bheibie. I’d better take you home,” he said. “Maybe that’s better,” I answered. He took me home and after a few minutes he left and went home. I went to my room. I sat on my bed and started asking myself these: “What’s happening to me? Why am I feeling this way? Why am I affected by that dream?” I didn’t notice I fell asleep. The next day, I was on my way to the mall. I saw Ancel and my best friend Dhes. They were about to enter the mall. On their faces, I could see that they were enjoying the company of one another. There was happiness in their eyes. Their smiles proved that they were having a good time together. I suddenly felt sad. I felt something strange. I was affected… I was jealous… They entered the mall. I decided not to follow them. I rode a jeepney and went to my cousin’s house. I spent the rest of the day playing billiards. I tried to forget what I had seen but it kept replaying in my head. It was all that was on my mind. I felt sad. I began to hate them. I thought they betrayed me. It was about 8:00 at night. I decided to go home. I went to my room. There, I cried. Then I was reminded of something. Dhes told me, then that she liked Ancel even before he started courting me… I uttered, “Traitors!” I was crying the whole night. Now I understood why I was feeling that way. What I saw at the mall was exactly the same scenario in my dream.

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Mistaken It was Sunday. Ancel texted me and asked me to come with him. So we went to the mall. I wasn’t talking the whole time we were together. All I said was either ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ depending on his questions. He stopped and asked, “Anything wrong?” Upon hearing his question, I started to feel very angry. Hatred reigned over my whole self. I shouted at him and said, “You’re asking me what’s wrong? You wanna know what’s wrong? You! You and Dhes… Your sweetness, the way you enjoy the company of one another, the way you spend your time together… Going to the mall, having fun! You are the wrong ones! I hate both of you! He replied with a low voice, “Bheibe, you don’t understand.” “Yes, I really don’t understand. I don’t know why I trusted both of you. You betrayed me!” I replied. Softly, he said, “But bheibie... Let me explain…” “But what? I don’t need your explanation. We’re done. To cut this short, I’m breaking up with you!” “Bheibie? Please don’t do this.” “Sorry. It’s my decision! Goodbye.” Then I left him. I hurriedly went to the rest room so no one would see me crying. After a few minutes, I already calmed myself. So I decided to go home. I looked at my phone. I had lots of messages. They were from Ancel and Dhes. I didn’t need to read them. Instead, I deleted them at once. My phone started to ring. It was Ancel. I didn’t answer the call. I turned my phone off and tried to forget everything that had happened. The next day, when I was at the park, a lady came. I looked at her. It was Dhes. I started to feel irritated. “Bhez, I’ve heard about what happened…” Not letting her finish her words, I said, “How dare you call me ‘bhez’?! After what you did to me, you come here and call me ‘bhez’?! Stop it! You’re spoiling my day!” “But it wasn’t what you think,” she said. “Don’t fool me. I knew it. You betrayed me! Yes, it’s as simple as that! You betrayed me!” “But…” “But what?” Don’t waste your time uttering lies. I won’t believe you anyway. Better leave me alone!” Dhes walked away. I knew I hated her. I hated the two of them. Suddenly, my phone beeped. Ancel sent a text message. It said, “Bheibie, I love you so much but if this is what you want, I respect you. You know that I have loved you so much. I never gave any girl the love I gave you. You’re my only one. I love you, bheibie. I’ll be leaving for the Middle East this afternoon. Maybe I can forget the pain if I stay far from you. I miss you so much. I love you, goodbye.” I felt sad upon reading the message. I knew I still loved him. I knew I never hated him. But I tried not to feel the pain knowing that he’ll be leaving. My phone beeped again. It was Lheiroj – one of my close friends. Her message said: “Hi Shey! How’s your day? Hope you’re fine. Anyway, I saw Ancel and Dhes in the mall. They were buying a ring. They told me it was for Ancel’s proposal. Did he propose already?” Upon reading his message, I felt so foolish. I tried to call Ancel’s phone but it was turned off. So I went to their house. The maid said he had just left. I was so sorry for what I did but I know it was too late. He had left already. I went home and started to cry. All I could do now was cry and write a poem. I expressed all my feelings through the poem. It goes like this:

The Ache Inside As I live alone in this melancholic life I endure with pain inside my heart I search for a way to be happy Forget the ache and be free

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Mistaken

Weeping is all I can do For with the hurt I could not go through Hiding behind the teardrops of rain I try to survive with my heart full of stain



The ache inside makes me think of the past When love is all that’s between us. But now, pretending is all I can do As I regret letting you go.

I was crying while writing the poem. I was very sorry for what I did. But I knew I couldn’t bring him back. I lost him… It was raining hard. It seemed that the clouds were crying with me. Then my phone rang. I answered it immediately without looking at the name of the caller. I was shocked upon hearing the voice… It was Ancel. Yes, it was he… ”Bheibie, our flight was cancelled because of the typhoon. I just wanna tell you that I really can’t afford losing you. I love you so much. What you’ve seen meant nothing. We were…” “You don’t have to explain. I knew it already. I was mistaken. Sorry… I love you, bheibie.”q

My Cam

Short story by Moon Child

One difference between capturing an image and ensnaring a heart: the settings for the latter are not as picture perfect.

I

have sat here for quite a while now, patiently waiting for her; like I always had for our first 99 days. And like always, my trusty camera has kept me company as I watch minutes go by. It may have lost its sleekness and no more does it appear new but it has never failed me in capturing priceless moments and thousand-word images. I can recall almost every scene that this camera and I have witnessed together – and I recall most clearly that very day… It was almost 8 in the morning I haven’t gotten rid of all the sleep in my eyes, when my phone started playing the immortal Nokia tune; someone was calling – it was Lon. His words were vague but his request was clear; he wanted me to take pictures for him. Being the good friend that I was, a “no” was never in my list of answers. So I hurriedly made my way to the place he told me about; I came, 10 minutes late but I came. He was standing near the door, obviously faking a frown which was immediately replaced by a smile. Lon meant business so I needed to work that way too. Our start was tardy but the pictures were superb. They were so good that they won me an invite to the luncheon. There I saw familiar faces. Actors, politicians, businessmen; faces you always see in newspapers’ lifestyle pages. I wanted to finish my dish fast so that I could go home right away. But then Lon came to

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My Cam my table and introduced this girl – Camille. Lon said that she is a photography enthusiast. A nice person to talk to, and undeniably beautiful! But even though she was, I was in a hurry. I excused myself and then left. After that event, we met several times. But we never talked. Maybe because of that first meeting rush… It was the last Sunday of August. I was sitting and reviewing my shots when she sat beside me. She asked how the event was. Knowing she was one of the organizers, what’ll I answer? She looked at my shots and was amazed. After that short talk, we said “nice meeting you!” That was Day 1. We grew closer. We smiled at each other when we met. And sometimes, a light talk. There I found out that my editor, Elie, was her close friend. On our 19th day of knowing each other, she came into our office. She was with Elie. As they passed through the door, Elie laughed very loud. Camille then blushed and told Elie to keep quiet. But Elie never had control on herself. She shouted that Camille had a crush on me! I didn’t take it seriously. Maybe they were just making fun of me. So what I did was to take photos of them laughing their hearts out! Things were different the following days. Camille seemed to be hiding. Whenever I saw her, she ran and never said hi. I was wondering if she was mad at me. Day 27, I went to their office. I bought a cotton candy, made a note and left it on her table. But before I was able to go out of the room, she came! She was surprised that she punched me lightly in the arms. I didn’t know what to say because in the first place, I didn’t know the reason why I was there. I left the room without saying anything. After that event, I found myself calling her every night. We talked about everything and anything we could talk about. But there’s a rule that should be followed: I should text first before calling. And we had a little gamble… If she answered it without me sending her a message, I had won. And if I followed her conditions, she had. When my birthday came, she was the very first to greet me. (Actually she was 45 seconds early.) She made me an illustration and waited for me in the office. But I didn’t come. I was busy in covering an event. That was my alibi. (But there was really an event.) The truth was I didn’t want to see her that day. I was confused about what I was feeling. “Am I in love with her? We just knew each other for more than a month. That can’t be! Maybe it’s just another sort of infatuation.” I saw the illustration when I came in the office the next day. There were notes written on the corners. Things that I said to her that made no sense yet she remembered them all. But I was still confused… For 10 days, I didn’t call her. And during those times, things were very different. Photographs were not as bright as before. There was something missing. Was there something wrong with my Cam? No. I was the one who was making things blurry. Day 44, I called her. She asked who was calling. I said it was me and shouted she lost again. She then told me she already erased my number and asked why I called. I said I just dropped by to say hello. After that five-minute call, thoughts like “maybe that’s the last time I was going to call her” and “so this is goodbye” came into my mind. After 30 minutes, my phone rang. It was her! Why was she calling? I answered it quickly and asked why. She didn’t say the reason but the message was clear. We’re not saying any goodbyes yet… Usual things happened. Smiles when we met, light punches when we passed each other, and the evening phone calls. Faded photographs became vivid once again. There was nothing wrong with my Cam. I just set the wrong exposure. Day 48, Camille went to a seminar with Elie. The chances of meeting her were only 10%. I knew not a single detail about the seminar. I stayed in the office the whole day. Seeing her then I thought was quite impossible so I made a deal with myself. The moment I see her, even for just a few seconds, I’ll confess all my feelings. It was about 8:00PM when I decided to go home. Just before I closed the door, Elie came. She said Camille already took a cab. Never did I run. I waited for Elie and helped her with her things. While we were walking, we saw Camille. She was waiting for Elie. After talking about things that have happened to them that day, Elie left us and said someone would pick her up. Now it was only the two of us. While we are walking along the street, silence ruled the

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My Cam air. I didn’t know how to start. I didn’t know what to say. We reached the bus stop. Her dad was there waiting for her. Just as she said bye-bye, I then confessed. I LOVE YOU! She was shocked. I smiled and turned around. Like scenes in Romantic-Comedy movies. The next day, she asked what did I just said last night. I didn’t answer. She asked if I just said I love her last night. No response. She asked if I just said something last night. “I LOVE YOU.” She punched me. But then she smiled. Perfect Shot! Even though the view wasn’t that amusing, smiles in that photograph are priceless. Day 58, her birthday. I waited for 12:00AM. I wanted to be the very first person to greet her, like she did on my birthday. I asked her what gift she would like. She said she didn’t want anything. Calling her every night was enough. She really appreciated it. Noon that day, I gave her a rose. Kind of old-fashioned, but she said she’ll keep it. Everyday we became closer and closer. It was like we were a real couple, till day 73. Someone came to her office. A suitor for about six or seven years, I think. Their families were friends. And he knew Camille far better than I did. I could see in Camille’s eyes that she was really confused. Even without her telling me to, I said I would leave. But before I left, I asked her if she liked me. She said she did. She liked me as a friend. Not as a lover, yet. I remember our gamble when we were just starting to call each other. I always told that she had lost. I was not sending any messages yet she answered my calls. But the truth is, from the start, I was the loser. I lost because I fell. I lost because she caught me. I lost because I surrendered myself to her. That day a thought came to mind. I was not doing my role. I was standing in the wrong place. We were not that close yet. Truly, I’ve always been a loser. The next day, she let me take her home. She didn’t go home that early. I guess she said that to make me feel better. We talked about different things while walking but never about what had just happened. I was thinking of letting go that time. It was time to release the shutter and turn my Cam off. I was not getting any good photos. But whenever I would see her, I couldn’t help but smile. I was holding on. I’ve always been a loser. So what? I was not afraid of losing her. If she wanted me out of her life, that’s fine with me. But I was not giving her up to anyone without doing anything! Weeks later, our quarrels became frequent. But we made sure that before the day ended, everything between us would be alright. Just like a real couple! And now, I have sat here for quite a while now, patiently waiting for her; like I always had for our first 99 days. And as always, my trusty camera has kept me company as I watch minutes go by. It may have lost its sleekness and no more does it appear new but it has never failed me in capturing priceless moments and thousand-word images. I can recall almost every scene that this camera and I have witnessed together – from views to events. Everything my eyes have seen and felt like framing. Things that caught my attention and made me think. And I think I almost perfected them. All of them! Except for one… You’ll never know what shutter speed you’ll use. Your aperture should be on its largest. Exposure depends on the mood. Filters are needed in some cases and more importantly, no automatic focus allowed. Everything is manual. You’ll never know when the subject will appear. It’s like your waiting for shooting stars. It isn’t the hardest. But it’s never easy. You need no camera. You need heart - one true heart. Capturing a girl’s heart isn’t easy. But I’m working on it! Here she comes! (Still, I’m holding on to my Cam. I’m not letting go…)q

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The dead letter Short story by Paul Kyrby Balingit

Sometimes, the very reasons why we hold on are the same reasons why we should let go.

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’ll try not to lose you!” those were the final words that i shouted and also the very words that i pray she heard as she walked away from me – maybe forever.

i’ve sat there for hours; already lost track of how many. i was in a daze; with my back against the almost hollow wall and with my 14th cigarette on my hand, i let my mind wander off into nothingness as i tried to evade the image of her when she walked far and finally had gone. “can i get you something, sir?” asked one of the crew of the coffee shop where i have stayed for quite some time then. i heard him but still, i chose to think of an answer to the question that lingered on my head: “is she ever coming back?” i faced the guy and he smiled while raising his eyebrow exposing his eagerness as he awaited my answer. “another espresso double, please.” i said. for a second he hesitated, and then finally wrote down my order on his pad. off he went. that was to be my third espresso double. the first two i ordered were bitter: of course they were - and i expected no less with the third shot. something with coffee always made me feel at ease; ease more than liquor can deliver. ease that doesn’t come with a hangover. blame the caffeine. “why am i here again?” i asked myself, already having forgotten the reason why i was there in the first place. i succeeded with my goal and after a blink of an eye, it was failure that took over. for a mere moment i forgot what transpired earlier that day and then i remembered her: walking far, once again. i wanted to forget – i really did. whatever air it was that i breathed that gave me that three-second amnesia, i wanted more, much more. my coffee was about to be given to me when i finally convinced myself that there was no more reason to stay there. i picked up the shot glass, drank all the bitterness down and i was ready to go. where? i had no clue and i didn’t care. i drew a bill from my wallet – a thousand; handed it to the guy who had been serving me ever since i came. “keep the change,” i said while i read his nameplate: “matt.” then i started walking.

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The dead letter i was near the parking lot when i struggled to search for the car keys in my pocket. i kept on running my hands all over when i realized: “silly. i have no car. i don’t even have a key.” i must have been really out of my sanity for thinking that i had one. on i walked, still having no particular destination. after around 15 minutes of senseless walking, i stopped. something halted me and it took me a moment to figure what it was. then i looked up and realized i was under a tree – our favorite tree. the very tree where we used to stay under and talk for hours. we used to talk about the future. we talked about the past. we talked about how much we meant to each other. we loved that tree; especially her, because a butterfly would always rest on her knee whenever we sat there. as we sat there one day, out of nowhere, she asked me something – a question that i should have compelled myself to answer when we were still together. because, for goodness’ sake, i had all the answers that i wanted. i had all the answers that i needed. “why do you love me?” she asked. i was surprised and i knew that i wasn’t ready for that question. then i asked myself, “do i really need to answer that? are words really necessary?” i was lost in the moment. “hey. hey? are you still with me?” she asked while she waved her hand in front of my face. then she smiled. she owns the most beautiful smile that anybody had ever given me. i brushed her hair with my hand, smiled back and said “i love you.” that was enough for her. the sun was coming down when i found myself already sitting under our tree. i was smiling and yet, tears fell down from my eyes. “i love her because she’s the reason for my smile and my tears alike.” i said as i talked to the tree which i awaited no answer from. i resumed my journey to neverwhere, still walking and not wanting to ride anything. i walked with my head down while tracing the steps that we have taken for so many times already. “i love her because in the darkness, it’s her afterglow that i follow.” i uttered. i started to feel ridiculous for already talking to myself but i thought it could not be helped. maybe the reasons why i love her were overflowing from my heart and escaping as those words. a frail rain started to come down but i guaranteed myself that it was something i could endure until i reach the place where i was going. that was the problem. i had no clue about where i was headed to. “i love her because she would have brought an umbrella if she were here,” i thought. i couldn’t believe that earlier that day, i accompanied her to the airport in spite of the fact that we broke up a day before. why did i do it? because i loved her. because i love her. “do you really need to leave?” i asked her. “yes, i do.” she answered. “but why?” i continued. she then looked annoyed but at the same time, wanting to cry. “because i need to be there. because that’s where i should be.” she replied. “is this really happening? is this how i lose you?” i asked. i was already in tears that time.

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The dead letter “you haven’t lost me yet. you can try not to.” she answered - then she finally went inside. i had no clue what she meant with what she said but it was perhaps impulse that made me answer back. “i’ll try not to lose you!” i shouted. … “i love her because she doesn’t walk right through me when i feel invisible,” i continued. the downpour of reasons went on along with the downpour of the rain. the rain got stronger and i was soaking wet. “too late to catch a ride now.” i thought. “no driver would want me to wet his vehicle inside.” i didn’t notice that i was only a few minutes away from our my house. it was cold and i was already giving myself the warmest embrace that i can but to no avail. the freezing air of december proved too much for me to tolerate, worse yet, a rain. “i love her because she gives me a reason to be happy whenever i go home.” “i love her because she’s the reason why i wake up each single morning.” “i love her because she’s the first one that i can think of whenever i hear the word love” i was shivering all over and was about to fall to my knees when i grabbed hold of the knob of my front door. “home,” i murmured. i gathered all my remaining strength and with all my being, i dragged myself all the way up the stairs and into my room – with heavy, wet clothes and all. i laid down on the floor and stretched my arms and legs. i accidentally hit the nearby night table causing an envelope to fall. my whole universe stopped when i saw the envelope. that envelope had inside it the letter that i planned to give to her before she even left. maybe i was thinking about her too much when i was preparing to accompany her to the airport. maybe the letter had its own mind and chose to be left behind. or maybe fate decided that it wasn’t meant for her to read the letter. whatever the explanation is, it was there – in my hands – already half-wet. i knew exactly what the letter was all about but i already ran out of rationality by that time; i wanted to read it one more time; the letter that she wouldn’t be able to read, the already dead letter. “i love you, because there is no reason why i shouldn’t.”q

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Puni

Short story by John Vincent Trinidad

Puni: an original Kapampangan ritual for the dead, eventually used by the Spaniards in their pursuit of the Christianization of Filipinos. It soon became known as a ritual during Holy Week, coupled with the pasion, a chant that tells the story of the life, passion and death of Jesus Christ.

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weltering. There was no other way to describe the heat of that day. It was the first week of April, and the days before Good Friday were dwindling. Tourists toting Canon SLRs and Sony HDs flocked this section of San Fernando in Pampanga just like they have every year since time immemorial. They hoped to be there to see people flagellating themselves on the streets and even getting nailed on a cross in the world-famous barangay Cutud. Juan took a swig of beer. He placed the half-empty bottle of Red Horse on the wooden table in Ken’s house. It wasn’t much of a house; it was really a shack that looked ready to fall apart under the next typhoon in June. “Let’s rob one of those whites,” Juan said. “What?” Ken said over his shoulder. He was washing a plastic plate on the rusty sink. He wiped the plate with his shirt and poured into it the contents of a can of 555 sardines. He walked over to the table and placed the plate of pulutan in front of his childhood friend. “You were saying?” Ken said as he sat on the wooden stool. “I said let’s beat up one of those tourists and get his camera and money.” Ken looked outside the door. A Caucasian male of about six feet tall walked by with a young girl, both in summer clothes, with their light skin glowing under the hot sun, and their chests adorned with cameras slung around their napes. “Let’s take the girl too,” Juan said. His bottle was empty now. “And do what with her?” Ken asked with a smile, “And then what? Spend the rest of our lives running from the law both of our country and of America?” Juan grunted. He opened a new beer. The bottle was almost warm. “Easy on the Red Horse,” Ken reminded him, “that’s the last one.” “Easy? We don’t even have ice and this bottle is getting warm.” Ken shrugged and tasted his beer. They tried the sardines. “Don’t eat all the sardines if we don’t even have any more beer,” Ken said. “It’s all I have.” “What do you mean it’s all you have?” Juan asked. “For dinner.” “What?” Juan said. “You bought beer and you can’t buy food?” Ken shrugged again, followed with a swig from his bottle. Juan shook his head. Silence pervaded for a brief moment. They watched the people walking on the street. Once or twice a flagellant passed, carrying a heavy wooden cross, or inflicting pain on himself by beating his back with pieces of wood strung together, covered in blood. Their faces were covered with cloth, and on their heads, a makeshift crown of thorns. They walked barefoot on the hot asphalt, followed by youngsters carrying a bottle of water, a biscuit can, a plastic bag of hardboiled eggs, and an occasional bottle of gin. “Let’s take that gin,” Juan said finally, staring at the bottle carried by a young boy laughing as he walked behind a flagellant and joked with his friends.

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Puni Ken shook his head smiling. “You are desperate, and after one beer you are already drunk out of your mind.” “No, Ken, you’re out of your mind,” Juan countered. “Buying beer and no money left for food,” he said under his breath. He drank his beer. “At least I’m not contemplating robbing a magdarame of his gin,” Ken murmured. “Maybe that’s your problem, Ken.” He took another long swig. “What is?” Juan sighed. He looked at his second bottle of Red Horse, empty now as well. “Your problem, Kennedy, is that you are too nice.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Ken asked, his eyebrows furrowed. “You won’t take a bottle of gin from a magdarame.” “Huh? That’s almost sacrilegious, even for us. Maybe I’m not too nice; maybe you’re just too rude.” Juan shook his head. “What I’m saying is—forget the gin (he waved his hand)—think, Ken. Look around you!” “Why are you raising your voice in my house?” “What are you talking about – you call this a house? See? That’s exactly my point!” “I don’t understand,” Ken said in resignation. He finished his beer. Silence again. The afternoon was giving way to twilight. There were fewer flagellants on the street, but tourists were still flitting about, cameras in tote, and sometimes with bottles of San Miguel in hand, no doubt bought at double price from a cute, skimpily dressed girl under the nipa roof of a temporary store specifically erected very close to the puni at the corner. Ken lit a gas lamp on the table. It would be dark soon. “Look,” Juan said, “do you really have nothing to eat for dinner except for this?” He motioned to the half-finished plate of pulutan. Ken hesitated. “I might have some cold rice and some dried fish.” Juan looked at him for a moment. He shook his head again and looked down at the packed earth that served as the floor of Ken’s shack. “Why, Juan?” Ken asked. “We’re both turning 28 next month, Ken.” “Yeah,” Ken answered softly, remembering that they were both born in May of the same year, Juan three days earlier. “So? Just another day, you used to say.” Juan again shook his head. “Not anymore, Ken. It’s not just another day. We’re not teenagers anymore.” They sat there for a while, neither of them saying anything, doing anything but watch the darkening street outside. Mosquitoes began to buzz inside the shack. “I cannot live like this anymore, Ken,” Juan announced, his eyes welling up in the semidarkness. “We were born poor, Juan,” Ken answered, “and there’s nothing we can do about that.” “See? That’s your problem. You give up too soon without even putting up a fight.” Ken looked hurt by the remark. “And you? Did you put up a fight? Because it seems to me we’re on the same exact position today, just like yesterday... Dirt-poor, with no future, just a past we can’t forget because of all the times we had to suffer in hunger, debt and embarrassment.” “Well, is it my fault that my parents left me when I was ten? I had to fend for myself, beg on the streets just to be able to survive,” Juan said, his tone rising. “And is it my fault that my parents died?” Ken countered. There was a lump forming in his throat, and he swallowed hard in an attempt to dislodge it.

They had grown together. Juan’s parents were poor fisher folk who separated early because of his father’s drinking problem and his mother’s discontent. Neither of them seemed to want to keep Juan, and they drowned him with misery each time he was left with a relative or friend who would mistreat and starve him. His mother would come for him after a month or two, and his father would visit sometimes. Until after a while, after

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Puni having left him with a spinster aunt for almost two months, Juan’s mother came by, gave him a crumpled hundred peso bill, and left without a word. Juan waited for days for his mother to pick him up. He would cry himself to sleep, with the crumpled bill held tightly in a fist, close to his heart. After another month, he realized that his mother had left him for good, and his father, perennially drunk, probably did not even know where he was. So he ran away from his aunt while she was engrossed in her daily ritual of gambling and smoking herself to death. Ken was born to a seaman father and a young prostitute mother. He was named after an American president, after his father returned from his first visit to the US just in time for the baby boy’s christening. Ken grew up practically alone in a little apartment close to the slum areas of San Fernando. His father would be away at sea, and his mother would be out at night peddling herself, and asleep during the day. His parents had violent fights that often ended with his mother all beat up, and she would lock herself for days inside the small bedroom after her husband had left, only coming out to eat and to lash out at Ken for her misfortune. When the bruises had gone she would go back to the flesh trade, against the wishes of the seaman. One time, Ken’s father came home. Uncharacteristically, he seemed happy. He even apologized to Ken’s mother, promising her a new start. He bought a used car with all his savings and said they would spend the rest of their lives together driving. For a few minutes, Ken felt happy too. His father gave him some money and told him to buy himself some candy at the sari-sari while they inspected the car. He was about to walk back home—his shorts pockets bulging with all the candy he had bought from the store—when he heard a loud crashing sound. Shrieks rose into the afternoon air. And in the distance, he saw the rear of the car his father had just bought. It was no longer parked in front of their little apartment. A jeepney had rammed into it and sent it crashing into the lamppost a hundred meters away. Ken dropped the lollipop he had in his hand and ran to the scene, all the while hoping that his parents were still inside the apartment. As he approached the shattered car, however, he saw the bent shape of his mother’s corpse hanging through the open passenger door. His father was facedown on the steering wheel, lifeless as well. And just before he passed out, Ken heard the singing of the pasion in the distance. It was Holy Week. He woke up in the public hospital the next day. A neighbor had brought him and left him there, not knowing what else to do with the boy. He was in a crowded ward. Beside him, another boy was alone on a heavily stained hospital bed. The boy was very thin. He gathered later from what he’d heard that the boy’s name was Juan, and that he was being treated for malnourishment and dehydration, whatever those meant. Ken just assumed that Juan must be dying of hunger. The candy was still in his pockets, and he fished out some of them to give to Juan. This sealed what was to be a bond of friendship that would last their whole lives. “We’ve come a long way from that hospital ward,” Ken said. He attempted a smile. Juan smiled too. “And it wasn’t the last time we would run away from somewhere, from some people trying to stop us.” “It was your idea,” Ken recalled. “Yeah. It’s always my idea every time.” “And the look on your face right now tells me you must be planning something new in mind,” Ken said seriously. “No,” Juan said. “I am not thinking of anything. At least nothing new. How about you?” Ken shifted on his seat, obviously caught off-guard. “Well, there’s this thing I’m thinking of doing.” “Really,” Juan said. “What?” “Oh, it’s just something this tourist is asking me to do. Buboy introduced me to him.” “A tourist?” “Yup.” “Well, whatever it is,” said Juan, “be careful. And I hope you’re getting paid enough.” He fished a fifty from his pocket and placed it on the table. “Buy something to eat with this. I’m going home.” Ken was still sitting on the stool, staring at the money, when Juan left the shack. After a few minutes, he got up, took the money, and placed it in a large milk can almost full of other paper bills of dif-

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Puni ferent denominations. “A twenty here, a fifty there...” he whispered to himself. He replaced the lid tightly on the can, put it back under the makeshift bed, covered it from view with boxes and old newspapers, and proceeded to the pantry to eat his cold rice and leftover sardines. As he ate, he pictured in his mind the little sari-sari he would put up, and thought about the words he would use to convince his friend Juan to go back to school and earn a degree. He had worked odd jobs here and there, saving what he could, nursing a little dream he had of putting up a little livelihood and supporting his more ambitious friend through college. “Someday,” he told himself, “he will finish school and get a good job and he won’t be bitter anymore, and maybe my store will be bigger by then, and we will build a decent house and spend our days drinking cold beer, watching our own TV.” Juan arrived on foot at the house where he lived. He was a gardener and all-around helper for a businessman, a middle-aged Chinoy who owned a couple of thrift shops and a videoke bar in Angeles City. The man was kind to him, although he didn’t pay him much. The half-Filipino, half-Chinese guy told him once that he had a family in Manila, and they chose to stay there because his two teenaged daughters were in college there. Juan never saw any friend or family visit the man, who was always out anyway, tending to his businesses. Juan was usually alone with the elderly female house help, who was deaf-mute and strange and kept to herself in her small room. Juan occupied the adjoining room, which was a little bigger. Now he lay on the narrow bed, thinking about Ken. He had pitied his friend. He wondered what Ken would buy with the fifty pesos he had left him; some isaw maybe, he thought. Then his thoughts shifted to other things, like how much a camera like those he saw on the tourists would cost in the black market these days. The Chinoy’s house was not very big. In fact it was simple, just a place for rest and a secure parking area for the man’s Pajero. Out of respect for his employer, and out of fear that he would be thrown back out into the streets, or worse, put in jail, Juan never tried to take anything from the house. Besides, aside from the TV and the DVD player in his master’s room, there was nothing in the house that was of any value and that could be stolen and sold immediately. Juan assumed his boss had a very big house in Manila, with lots of valuable items. And this was sort of his apartment. Once or twice the man had come home with pretty young bargirls. Maybe he and the wife are separated, Juan thought. Overnight, sleep eluded the two young men. Ken stared into the darkness above his makeshift bed and imagined his plans coming into fruition. If only he had more savings he could start now, and he and his friend would be free from the same worries and live with some peace of mind. Maybe they would even have time and some extra money to have girlfriends. I’m sure Juan will meet a pretty college girl and she would have friends, he thought with amusement. In his room, Juan heard the rumbling of the Pajero’s engine in the garage. The boss was home. The engine died and the jangling of keys at the front door could be heard. A few minutes later, he could hear the snoring of his master through the wall. As was his wont whenever he could not sleep, Juan sneaked out through the back door and went to the garden for a walk. Outside the low fence, a few drunks passed, walking unsteadily under the streetlamps. Juan envied them a little. How he wanted to be drunk enough to forget about the pain and suffering he had gone through all his life. He wanted to be drunk forever. He remembered his father. With an anger he found familiar, he thought to himself, “Is this what you have left me with, father? This hatred and pain? This longing to be intoxicated enough to forget?” Then he thought of his mother. He remembered the crumpled one hundred peso bill, which he still had in his wallet today, discolored with age. “One day,” he thought, “I will find you and give you back your money, mother, to tell you without even uttering a word that I despise you and I do not need your money.” Just then, a foreigner passed by outside the fence. He was white, not too tall, a little thin and lanky, wearing thick glasses. He had a big knapsack. Juan was sure it contained a camera or two, and other valuable things. The man noticed the stranger watching him and looked at Juan, standing on the lawn inside the low fence. The foreigner nodded and walked on. Juan stood there, his brain on high gear, contemplating the consequences of what he was compelled to do. Ignoring logic, he sprang over the fence and grabbed the tourist from behind, twisting the poor man’s neck so violently it snapped. Juan looked at the unmoving body prone on the cement. The glasses had flown from the man’s face and the lenses had shattered on the street. Juan looked around. There was no one else on the street but him and the stranger. The man appeared to be dead. Panic was beginning to form inside Juan, and

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Puni he fumbled to unlatch the lock of the backpack around the man’s waist quickly, before he could lose his nerve. He searched for a wallet and money inside the pockets of the tourist’s hiking shorts. He found several hundreds, five hundreds, and a few one thousand peso bills but no wallet. Juan ran with his loot through the unoccupied lot beside the Chinoy’s house and jumped over the fence onto the backyard. He went inside the house through the backdoor and locked himself inside his room. He dared not flick on the lights. He positioned himself on the bed, close to the window, where some light from the lamppost was coming through. He opened the backpack and there inside was indeed a Canon camera with a telephoto lens, along with a little black bag containing two extra lenses of different lengths, and some CompactFlash memory cards. There were clothes in the pack as well, and a Motorola Q9 PDA-phone. Juan did not understand any of this stuff, but he knew they were of value. There was an American passport, which told Juan that the man’s name was Jim Oliver, and he was from a place called Cincinnati, Ohio. Juan found the man’s wallet containing several credit cards and about a hundred US Dollars. He also found a driver’s license and several IDs, almost all of them bearing the word PRESS or MEDIA, in bold letters. The most recent ID told Juan that Jim Oliver was a photojournalist and correspondent of something called the National Geographic Society, which sounded familiar. Juan took the camera and the other gadgets and wrapped them with some old towels and placed them under his bed. He stuffed the money—both pesos and dollars—inside an old sneaker, and put the sneakers under the bed as well. He rolled up the empty backpack and put it inside a big old paper bag, then the clothes he folded and put in his cabinet, covering them carefully with his own garments. The IDs he slid under the cabinet. He planned to burn everything except the gadgets and the money when he got the chance. Then he lay on the bed, as still as he could, and stayed awake, listening to the sound from the street. Noises began to form after a while; the body had been discovered, and Juan’s heart sank as he realized that he was hoping that the tourist would live, but now his earlier suspicion that he had murdered him was confirmed. The lights and sounds of a police car presented themselves, and very soon, Juan had no doubt that the street outside the Chinoy’s house was crawling with people. It was almost 4:00 AM when Juan decided he could no longer stick around to find out what would happen next. He opened the cabinet and found his old bag, big enough for most of his stuff plus the things he had taken from the dead man. He took first the stolen things, including the rolled-up knapsack, and put them inside his bag, then covered them with his own stuff. He zipped it closed and walked out of his room, the heavy bag strung over his broad shoulder. It was still very dark, but he knew that very soon the sun would show. Hurriedly, he snuck out of the backdoor, half-ran to the rarely used back gate, and tried his best to leave through it quietly. He could not risk jumping over the low fence again because of the police presence in the area. He had to stay low and quiet. Juan let out a sigh of relief when he realized that the small street at the back of the house was deserted, in contrast with the hubbub now happening in the front. He was able to disappear in the darkness without anyone noticing him. Four days later, on Good Friday, Juan appeared at the door of Ken’s house. There was a thick, rusty chain with a padlock on it. Juan wondered where his friend could be. He did not usually lock the little shack. Juan was tired, dirty and hungry. He had spent the last four days hiding in an abandoned building, hardly getting any sleep at all. He was able to sell the camera and lenses at the black market, the cellphone too, and even had the dollar bills exchanged. He had left his bag in the abandoned building to avoid suspicion. But on him right now, he had about forty thousand pesos including all the cash he had killed a human being for. He planned to give them to Ken, remembering how his friend used to tell him about putting up a little store. He sat on a dirty plastic chair outside the shack. A teenage boy found him there. “Are you looking for Ken?” the boy asked. “Yes, do you know where he is?” Juan recognized the boy as Buboy’s younger brother. “He’s with kuya Buboy. He’s pretending to be a magdarame. He’s going to be nailed to a cross later, in Cutud.” “What?” Juan asked. “Buboy is going to be nailed to a cross?” He knew Buboy; he was a conman and petty thief. The boy laughed. “No, not my brother. Ken! I think a tourist is paying him a lot of money

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Puni to do it. The white man is going to take his pictures.” Juan was tired, sleepy, and very hungry. But the boy’s words were like a gong that brought him suddenly to his feet. “Where are they now?” he asked the boy. “I don’t know, probably on the street carrying that cross, or drinking somewhere.” Juan left quickly. He figured that Ken must be drinking right now. He had to be; he was never that tough. He needed a lot of alcohol for him to carry out something like this. Juan thought that his friend might be at the old tambayan, the sari-sari on the next block where he and Ken used to drink with Buboy and his cohorts. Juan’s steps were quick. He was walking in the direction of the tambayan when he heard a voice say loudly, “That’s him! That’s Juan Sandoval!” He turned to see the boy, Buboy’s younger brother, pointing at him. And beside him were two policemen in uniform, and they had spotted Juan. Juan instantly knew he was in trouble, and he ran like mad, away from the boy and the two uniforms. The policemen called to him and gave chase. He jumped into a very narrow alley and kept on running, the two policemen tailing him. The more senior cop got on his radio and called for reinforcement. The younger, more idealistic one was quicker on his feet, and a tad more reckless. Juan was too tired to keep this up. They had been running for what seemed like a very long time, and adrenaline was running low. In his desperation, he thought of losing the policemen in a crowd, and on this day, there was no other place in San Fernando with a bigger crowd than the area called Cutud. As luck would have it, he was almost there. The older policeman could not go on. He stopped to catch his breath. He went back to his radio to give instructions to other policemen in the area. There was quite a number of them at that moment in Cutud, helping with the traffic and safety. The younger cop was not even tired. But he was furious. How dare this guy make him run this far and this fast! And he killed a tourist in his city! And not just an ordinary tourist, but a photojournalist, an international media man! The young man drew his gun, a standard issue .45, and watched with growing anger and frustration as Juan disappeared into the crowd gathered to watch flagellants being nailed to the cross. Ken was very drunk. But one thing about him, he could be totally intoxicated and it wouldn’t show. His eyes never became droopy, his skin never flushed, and his gait was always straight. He would only give himself away if he spoke, and being nailed to a wooden cross did not require this of him. The thick rope around his arms, waist, legs and feet that fastened him to the cross burned through his skin, but he could hardly feel it. Neither did he feel much pain as the spikes were hammered through his palms and into the wood. In his inebriated brain he had flashes of his dream business and the life he and his good friend—his best friend in the world!—were going to have as soon as he got paid for this – his sacrifice. His eyes were blinded by the sun as he lay on the cross on the ground, his hands being nailed. He closed his eyes and drowned out the sound with his imagination of good things that were sure to come. The young policeman looked around at all the people, trying to make out the figure of the man he was set to take to jail or shoot if the need ever arose. The people were all too busy watching the men being nailed to their wooden crosses that no one noticed the gun in the policeman’s hand. Ken felt the cross being moved, being erected. He opened his eyes. He saw the skies quickly darkening, foreboding rain. For every inch the cross was raised to an upright position, he felt the pain beginning to shoot from his nailed hands and feet as pressure began to mount. The ropes that bore the brunt of his weight tore at his skin, and there was more pain. But he kept his silence, merely moaning softly now and then. At last the cross was upright, held in position by ropes, cement weights and braces. He was blinded by flashing lights from cameras in all directions, and he could hear people talking loudly, some whimpering, others praying. Thunder roared from above. A few more minutes passed. They might as well have been hours for Ken. The sound of people around him began to fade, even the thunder. He seemed to be going deaf. His eyes blurred until he could no longer see the sea of humanity around him. The pain from all over his body strangely began to feel comfortable. He closed his unseeing eyes as the rain slowly began to fall.

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Puni The policeman felt a strong hand grab his wrist from behind. He fought the action, and in a split second, he was fighting Juan for the gun. The two tried to overpower the other, all the time trying to wrestle for the .45. Juan’s hands were rough, his grip very strong, and he was close to pointing the gun at the young officer. But the policeman remembered his training. In another second he had used his right knee to apply pain between Juan’s legs. Juan’s legs buckled. The sudden movement caught the attention of some of the people around them. Someone gave out a scream, and panic followed. As the two wrestled for control of the deadly weapon, everyone ducked for cover away from them. Other policemen were already running towards the two adversaries, but none of them was really close. Juan was kneeling on the ground now being turned into mud by the slowly worsening rain. But he was still holding on to the policeman’s hands around the pistol. Ken opened his eyes, and he could see again, as if the rain on his face had cleared his vision and somewhat awakened his mind. He saw very close to the foot of the cross two men. One was wearing something blue, and he was standing, holding something black that was also being held by another man who was kneeling on the ground. He recognized the kneeling man. It was his friend—his best friend in all the world!—and he was there, kneeling, praying for him, joining him in this sacrifice! Juan’s eyes wandered for a fleeting instant to the man high up on the cross. The rain stung his eyes and in the blur he realized he was looking at Christ. Juan took his eyes off the man on the cross, focusing on the fight for his life. His energy was failing, and there was something in the young policeman’s eyes that told him he would never allow Juan to see the inside of a jail cell. The cop was intent on killing him. But Juan would not be denied salvation. He decided that if he was about to die, it wouldn’t be so bad to have the face of Christ as the last thing he ever saw on this earth. Perhaps for the first and last time in his life, he would believe in and ask for forgiveness from the Son of God. And so, he turned his gaze slowly at the man on the cross. Ken could not feel anything. But he could still see, and he saw his friend Juan turn to him and stare into his eyes. In his ebbing consciousness he felt happy, and managed with all his strength to smile at Juan below him. It was the last he would see his friend. And it was the last thing he would ever see. His smile, his stare, seemed frozen as the life inside him faded. Juan saw Ken smile. Recognition dawned. He could not believe his rain-stung eyes. No, it could not be... not his friend, not his best friend! “No,” Juan whispered in disbelief as he stared at his dead friend looking down at him, and loosened his grip on the policeman’s hands around the gun. The rain suddenly stopped. And the sound of the bullet echoed in the air. Juan fell in an awkward position on the ground, looking up at the sky. The bullet had gone through his chest. With his remaining strength, he turned his gaze slowly to the man on the cross. In his delirious state, he saw nothing but light, but slowly, just seconds before life left him, he saw Ken’s face on the cross, and Juan smiled weakly. If he could only still speak, he would have whispered: “Kristo.”q

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Pro-life essays H

ealth is wealth, just like life is vital to existence. Life is the reason for living no matter what kind of life we lead. Even the poorest of the poor and the richest of the rich have the right to life. Everyone has his/her own way of struggling to survive especially nowadays when life itself is infirm because of emotional and mental disabilities and insecurities due to old age or crippling illnesses. One dominating factor for staying alive and kicking is being happy and leading a clean life, setting aside vices that may cause our lives to deteriorate. Vices lead to less sleep, which contributes greatly to being unstable, irritable and being too weak to sustain the day’s work, especially for workaholics. Being happy despite our problems is a special favor to oneself, to us and to everyone, a trait that no one can take away from you. Happiness and contentment can prolong life itself because you are free from sustaining mental force intensified by tensions. Be contented with what you have for the day and think lightly of tomorrow. Never regret the bad things that happened because these serve as lessons. Nowadays, what we take into our body is not always healthful. Street foods are everywhere. We crave junk foods that prove very bad or disastrous to our health. Carcinogens are a deadly intake that can cause death. It is really better to eat at home where our parents can monitor the kind of proper foods we take in. The best thing is to raise our own poultry products, vegetables and fruits. Those we buy outside are no longer pure. Even shellfish and fish are being raised elsewhere. Life is under threat these days. We should be aware of where we buy our food. Food poisoning is rampant in eateries that are considered less expensive. Being cautious means better safe than sorry for you in the long run. There are a lot of factors why our health is at stake that may lead to death. Illness is one. We are very irresponsible in taking care of our health. We always take for granted the possibility of getting sick or acquiring illnesses as long as we give to ourselves what our bodies crave, despite the consequences. Before it’s too late, we ought to be aware of ourselves and our environment. Next to awareness of our own health, we cannot ignore the fact that responsibility to our personal safety is also a necessity for pro-life. Accidents are also all over the news. Let us be vigilant for our safety. Let’s stay away from alcohol or drug-related activities. Once we indulge ourselves in drugs, we are already sure of the pit we are going to be buried sooner or later. Not only do we prove disastrous to ourselves, but we can also be life-threatening to other people and to the environment. Drugs lead to a big death toll in the world. Even just a drug-runner can lead to wasting our life once we are put to jail serving a life sentence. In accidents, we have to comply with the rules and regulations. There are a lot of factors why accidents happen. Riding motorcycles without helmets, driving under the influence of drugs or alcohol, disregarding street signs, lack of sleep and so on. These are responsibilities that we take for granted. Let us take the responsibilities of taking care of our life as well as the life of others. I personally take a stand for pro-life because life is a God-given gift that was given to me by my biological parents. I should preserve this until God himself takes it away from me. I don’t just practice this preservation of life on myself but I want to share this to others also, by way of doing it to my house and to my friends and schoolmates. Actually, preserving life is an easy thing. Just live normally, lead a clean life, no vices at all. There should be awareness, personal responsibility, and responsibility towards others. There should also be concern and caring because without that, we cannot reach out and relate to other people. There should be an involvement not only physically but emotionally as well as spiritually. Life is important because we have to exist. We are the living model of our Creator. We have to shape our earthly existence in a pattern of being useful to others by way of sharing, having healthy concern and care, awareness and responsibility. Let us help preserve LIFE. Let us be models, living independently with human consciousness and contrived manifestation of power and purpose. (Health is wealth by Jeffrey H. Aldana, BSN 2A)

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he Reproductive Health Bill or the Reproductive Health and Population Act of 2008 has been legislatively proposed to the senate which primarily aims to promote and provide a national policy on responsible parenthood, informed choice, birth spacing and respect for life in conformity with the human rights standards.

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Pro-life essays Some say it is necessary in order to control population growth which is now composed of millions of Filipinos as well as for the sake of our limited resources such as our daily need for food, saying we have no more reasons to argue against the bill. Others claim that it can be of great help to underdeveloped countries like ours. But there still lies another issue – the moral issue. Yes, we may say, it may somehow help in controlling the fast growing population but what about the Divine Law? This bill may allow another room for abortion and to some extent, euthanasia. The bill promotes the use of contraceptives and different artificial means of birth control which is contrary to the teachings of the Catholic Church. Progress does not mean that we have to promote these kinds of immoral policies. Once this bill is put in order, it may cause different disadvantages such as letting pre-marital sex be prevalent. It may somehow push people especially the youth to do something without thinking of the consequences of their wrongdoings. Not to mention the other disadvantages that it may cause. Indeed, House Bill 5043 manages to provide progress for each and everyone but no bill, no law, no act will surpass the law which existed even before our grandparents were born. Say yes to life! (House Bill No. 5043: A Bane, Not a Boon by Weslee Dizon, AB Comm 1)

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uch is life and how much this abstract concept of the clever psyche constitutes the totality of the world that surrounds us. Either you take its origin from the scriptures where God breathed life to mother earth and its life forms, or take it from Charles Darwin who claims that single-celled organisms evolved to impervious complexities we now call mankind. Life seems to be the single most important representation of being. Esse est percipi. Its preservation, therefore, is something that humans in particular must take good care of; otherwise we would become futile and stagnant examples of higher forms of intelligent existence. Generally, life starts with love… and conception. Scientifically, it is the meeting of the male and female sex cells to reproduce an organism that is the genetic half of the parents. PROCREATION. In humans, it takes nine months for a new life to be born to the world of people. Such a process—or a development that conceives a new addition to God’s growing number of children—a newborn is undeniably of utmost sensitivity. Imagine a life—a small unborn human being—nurtured and cared for 275 whole days without the rest within a mother’s womb. Imagine how it develops its little fingers and how it moves to and fro with its frail instinct for 6600 hours. Now imagine that life form—that unborn—given as a gift of joy, absolute happiness and balance, to not exist at all. How will it feel if it was your son, your grandson, your wife, your husband who was unborn? What if it was you? Sexuality has always been and will always continue to be an issue and a topic of eager debate. Making love, given its pre-assigned design from the times of long ago, was invented for the formation of life-to-be. As the excerpt says, “Go forth and multiply.” Yet man has neglected its entirety purpose and used it as a tool for supreme pleasure. Yes, the satisfaction from sex is undeniable, and human ingenuity took a step too far through the invention of contraception. Through methodic control of hormones that the body produces, man is able to mimic an internal environment that ceases the process of fertilization. With the simple method of using an artificial barrier of medically treated plastic called condom, the meeting of sex cells is prevented. With this, nothing exists. Still, legality differs from morality. Education is supposed to be good and beneficial. Yet, why does sexual education, or more likely contraceptive education, become destructive? It is comparable to handing a knife to children. It becomes a possibility that people and children without proper thought will not understand its use and abuse it more. DENIAL OF RIGHTS TO THE UNBORN. Humans are but caretakers of life. Though we are given the most of inalienable freedom to do what we will, it doesn’t include the rights to deny that unborn child of his right to live and exist. Denying life is denying somebody his future, his dreams to be, his ambitions and his possible contributions to the world that is filled with abominations brought about by our cunning perception and misunderstanding of liberty. Together with our command over everything else in the cosmos, we are given the responsibility to stand by God’s side in saving and making lives worth being. Murder is the merciless annihilation of a life, that in the process you destroy a person, everyone around him and yourself. With murder, you destroy aspirations. With murder, you create scars of time that people cannot heal because of such a ruthless act. With murder, you destroy yourself by cutting your

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Pro-life essays last ties from God, from Allah, from the Almighty. Abortion is killing a child pre-conception. Abortion is murder. Contraception is indirect abortion. With all that is said and done, contraception is murder. Can you, by a simple stroke of invention, kill? Can you refute a life in exchange for simple pleasure? Yes, overpopulation is fast becoming a major factor of the lessening degree of existence’s quality. In spite of everything, it doesn’t become an excuse for mass murder. Population control is also achievable through instilling open value systems to the people. Boosting human responsibility won’t cost anybody something but effort. Establishing morals shall require constant overlooking, but this fragile core shall be a better means than death, but has a same end that can be met. The excuse of repudiating life to someone who could have deserved it is human err of sloth – the same sloth that makes people stagnant to acting better and being increasingly moral. It dampens human reasoning and feeds on human nature of looking for easier pathways. Humanity’s blunder is a glitch on human anima that, to a certain extent, must be corrected. Life is like a box of chocolates. You’ll never what you might pick. You’ll never know what kind of person will come up if every birth is given a chance. It is similar to a gift box. If you open that box you might have the biggest surprise of your years. To magnanimous extents, we might be opening the box of life for the cure of aids, or somebody who will be of utmost impact that will make the world a better place in the future. Life denied is life equality. Our hands should not be stained with the invincible subsistence of life yet to be, but we should be the progenitors of a society where life is, again, given importance and the obstacle to retaining an exacting amount of morality and unwavering respect to life. We cannot neglect our duties to our community. If we stand in unison to encourage life, we then follow what we should have been in the past. PRESERVERS OF CREATION, RESPONSIBLE CHILDREN OF GOD, CARETAKERS OF HUMANITY, PROTECTORS OF LIFE. (Living in full existence by Jerome Castor, Yastro Shinji XIII, BSCpE III-A)

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ife is one of the greatest gifts God has given Mankind. It is a blessing that everyone must be thankful for. God gave us this wonderful gift for us to take good care of and not to use it in any unnecessary act that may violate the right of anyone to live. It is often said that “life is beautiful.” No matter how difficult life is because of the trials and conflicts we experience today due to so many unsolved issues and economic instability, it is still good to know that we are alive; that we are still breathing; that we still have our families, friends and significant others whom we can count blessings. They may seem small, but their. Life starts when the seed is sown and are of great worth then eventually spouts, when an egg and a sperm meet, fertilization occurs. Personally, I don’t believe and in any way promote abortion. Abortion is synonymous to death. Abortion is killing innocent lives. It could be beneficial if the mother’s life is at stake but if it is done solely because of immaturity and irresponsibility, then it is not rightful. It is stopping an unborn child to live and experience the life that we care enjoying and at the same time struggling for. What if and who knows if that unborn child will be one of the greatest people the world could have? God is the one who gives us life and only He has the right to take it back. It is not fair to put that innocent child’s life to a dead end no matter what your reason is. It is not the choice of that child’ to be formed in that woman’s womb. How unfortunate it is if that child would be one of the thrown fetuses is placed in a plastic bag and left inside the church or in a public restroom. Since no one has the right to get anyone’s life, it is but rightful to live a moral life. If abortion is death, then euthanasia or mercy killing also means death. Many cases of coma still make it and survive even for at long span of five years. No one can say that the case is hopeless, not even doctors and specialists. “While there is life, there is hope.” People get hopeless and tired of fighting for life but the person in coma “might” still be struggling to survive. There are many possibilities. Chances maybe small and big but we love to take the risk. For abolition death penalty is one way of respecting life. It is a fact that justice must be met and everyone must be treated fairly. Fairness and justice should be given especially to the victims who were violated of their rights as individuals and citizens of the country, yet “doers” of the inappropriate and unjust act must also be given justice. Due process of the law must be followed. Many convicted persons in jails are innocent. Some are imprisoned due to discrimination and unfounded proofs, money and power

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Pro-life essays of other people who might have vested interest on that case. Life, in general is a treasure that must be cherished and protected. It is not a thing that once we are tired of using it, we could be damp it right away. It is a precious crystal whose value never depreciates, and can stand the test of time. It is present for as long as there are seeds growing to from trees, animals breeding to form new ones and people breathing, life is infinity, but if not respected and taken for granted and worst, violated, that may result to death. We have and enjoy the gift of life. Sometimes, we live it well and sometimes not. We do things beneficial for others and on the other hand things that may hurt and inflict pain to others. We live life differently but no matter how different it may be, as long as you live life meaningfully and respect other people’s right to live, “life is indeed worth living” and also dying at the right time and purpose. (Rosabel Y. Madridesjos, BS Psychology IV)

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ife is a gift from God that we should take good care of. It is considered as the largest school for it teaches and tests us to become better persons someday. It is to be valued and respected. It is sad to know that in our time today, many people do not know how to give importance to the ‘life’ our Creator has given us. There are some who would choose to kill just to save themselves from shame. Is it abortion I’m talking about? Yes, I’m talking about abortion. Abortion is spreading in our country nowadays. There are some who would sacrifice the life inside their womb because of personal reasons. But whatever reason they have, be it for a good cause or not, they still disobey the commandments of God especially the Fifth Commandment which states, “You shall not kill.” In our country, there is what we call ‘Pro-Life.’ It is a term representing a variety of perspectives and activist movements in bioethics. It does not support abortion, rather it supports fetal rights. If in our government there is administration and opposition, pro-life can be considered the opposition of abortion. The term describes the political and ethical view which maintains that fetuses and embryos are already human beings and have lives, and therefore the rights to live. We can also that pro-life is the opposition of practices such as euthanasia, death penalty, human cloning, and research involving human embryonic stem cells. Pro-life individuals generally believe that human life is very important and it should be valued and taken care of until we reach the so-called ‘natural death.’ It is God who has given. We do not have the right to kill especially new babies who want to live and explore the beautiful creations of God. As I started another page of this essay, I was thinking of why there are women who abort their children. Why don’t they give the child a chance to live? Don’t they feel any guilt? Some would say that they abort their children because they are not yet ready for the responsibilities. Others say that they have to finish their studies first or maybe because they are scared of their parents or scared of what other people may say. Others say that they don’t need the baby because the father left or others say that they won’t give birth to the baby because nadisgrasya lang. But, thinking about these reasons, are they really valid to kill the life of an innocent human being? For me, no! Whatever it is that is happening to us right now is based on our actions. We just have to be brave enough and mature enough for our own actions and the consequences of what we have done. Ginusto mo, panindigan mo. Nobody should suffer from your actions and if you think you can’t do or face the consequences, better not do the action. Another thing that pro-life advocates don’t agree to is euthanasia or mercy killing. It is putting away the life support of a very sick person and is about to die. Personally, I don’t agree to euthanasia either because that life is a gift from God and just like I always say, God is the only one who can take away the life he has given us. Life is also sacred, that is why we cannot take it away from an individual. Nowadays, there is this Reproductive Health Bill which is not supported by the Church. Those birth control measures are against the law of the Church. Once a couple has done a sexual act and fertility takes place, we have no right to control the growth of a fetus or embryo because it is already a life. In my own opinion, I don’t agree to abortion, euthanasia, and other things that could kill an innocent life or the life of another individual. Why can’t we just wait for God to take away our life rather than doing immoral actions? Even though our population is growing, it is not still advisable to use birth control according to the church. We just have to be careful with our actions and know our limits. We are mature individuals so we know what is right from wrong. Life is the best teacher ever for it teaches us and makes us realize good from evil. We just have

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Pro-life essays to live our life to the fullest and learn from our mistakes and never go down the path of evil. For the real challenge for us is to live freely and learn to resist evil. (Caitlin Joyce G. Samia, BSN 2A)

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od gave us the life we have now. Life begins with the union of the egg cell and sperm cell. It will end when it is already our time to die. We do not decide when or how we will die. He gave us life and it is our responsibility to take good care of it. We control our life but we do not control our death. Life is the most important ingredient in every individual’s personality. Some people abuse their health and later on will be ill. Pro-life means anti-killing. In pro-life, we are against suicide and abortion and most probably murder. The church is also against abortion and suicide because God gave us life and we kill that life he gave. In the Ten Commandments, “Thou shall not kill.” Abortion is a sin and it is against the Ten Commandments. There are many cases of suicide nowadays. Sometimes, they commit suicide due to poverty or conflict with their loved ones. There are many cases of suicide wherein the reason is poverty. There was this case of suicide which I watched in the news. The mother drank toilet cleaner and she let her children drink it too. The mother committed suicide together with her children because they were so poor and she could not provide for her children anymore. In other countries, abortion is legal but in the Philippines, it is not. But there are still cases of abortion in our country. A mother commits abortion when she thinks she is not ready to be a mother. One reason is when they don’t like the father of the baby. There are many kinds of abortion. In the hospital setting, these are cases when the mother’s life should be saved and the baby should be aborted because lives are both at risk. Why does God give life? Life is a cycle. We start breathing then we stop breathing. Our life starts in the womb and ends in the tomb. Pro-life is particularly about saving a life. The life we have is very important and it is our responsibility to handle it with care. Life is an important element in a person. Why do others commit abortion? Do they have a conscience? The people who engage in it don’t think of a life being murdered. The Church has been saying that every person has a right to life. Every human born or unborn is created in the image and likeness of God. We do not have the right to end somebody’s life or even our own life. Life goes on as we get older and we do not have the right to stop it. I watched last October about the fetus on a frying pan. I was so upset because the mother did not do anything to save her child. And there are cases that I have watched in the news that they have seen a fetus in a heap of garbage. When I watched these, I felt so upset and sorry for the mothers of those fetuses. They did not have the guts to let their child see the beautiful world that God has created. I feel so sorry for them because having a son or a daughter, for me, is the best gift that God can give us. It is a life from you yet you will abort it. As what I’ve said, life is from womb to tomb. We should value our lives. (Vikkijoan M. Adus, BSN 2A)

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n this era where technology paves the way to new discoveries, more and more people are hooked on finding alternatives and want to try things which are beyond the usual ones. In less enlightened times, people were led by the idea of trying new things – things that may result to either positive or negative consequences. The issue on the Reproductive Health Bill has been very controversial these past few days. Many concerned people are trying to fix the issue and want to come up with the best possible solution. Though I know the intention why the Reproductive Health Bill has been proposed, I am more concerned about the content of the said proposed bill and what might be the possible effects it may have on us if passed. The said bill contains something about contraception and other alternative methods of family planning, as well as sex education. As I have learned from my Theology 4 (Christian Marriage) subjects, sex is a sacred gift from God. Yes, it is definitely a sacred gift. Just look in the mirror and there you’ll see yourself as a great miracle – a miracle that was and is realized through the marriage of your parents. Your

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Pro-life essays life serves as the great miracle. Indeed, sex is one of the most precious gifts from God. It results from the mutual love of the husband and wife for each other. It should only be done by two persons who truly love each other and are completely mature to be married in order to commit themselves to each other wholeheartedly. Imagine how our society will be if marriage, which is the foundation of the family, is rooted in love, responsibility and maturity. Wow, I think this world will be a better place for us. Perhaps everyone will be constantly aware about the sacredness of lovemaking and there will no more Reproductive Health Bill to be passed. However, it is a bitter reality that many people are actively engaging in sex before marriage. There are those who, at a very young age, are already parents. These concerns are few among the many problems that our society is facing at present. Our government plays a major role in bringing solutions to these dilemmas. But the family also plays a very important role. Education starts within the family. Our parents serve as our first teachers. What you are right now is how you have been shaped by your family, more importantly your parents. If you have been raised by less responsible parents, then it’s time for you to build a family of your own which is founded in love and fear of God. Truly, the most powerful and strongest weapon that parents could give to their children is love. It can make them better individuals. Love can build and heal what has been broken in our lives. Perhaps sex education is a good thing. But how will this thing affect our lives? I know sex education deals with safe sex. Because of the big population our country has right now, many “concerned” people are finding ways to lessen the constantly increasing number of people in our country. But are these people really concerned? In the near future, I don’t want to remind my son, “bring your condom every time” or remind my daughter “have you taken your contraceptive pills?” What I would like to be instilled in the minds of my children is the sacredness of their body and soul and valuing what have been blessed to them as well as with other people. I would like them to be disciplined enough and have this mindset that “unselfish love can wait for the right time.” Right time? Yes, that right time is having sex in the context of marriage – marriage rooted in love and maturity, a love which is not self-seeking pleasure and a family centered on God. Let us all be guided by the perfect example of love as “sacrifice.” I believe that the government can help in educating the parents about family values which will help the parents to raise disciplined children. Instead of passing this Reproductive Health Bill, why not focus on educating the family about these very important values. Too idealistic? Impossible to achieve? I don’t think so. Many hard things have been already done. Maybe, all we need are hearts that are willing to follow suit. Is the Reproductive Health Bill really the solution to the problem of overpopulation in our country? Or is it merely trimming the weeds without pulling off the roots, and that sooner, the weeds will still continue to grow? Even though I am not a medical or nursing student, I am aware of how life is formed from the union of the egg cell and the sperm cell. I have learned from my Nat. Sci. I subject that when the two cells unite, a zygote is formed. Artificial contraceptives inhibit the union of the egg cell and the sperm cell. But some contraceptives deliberately kill the life of a two-day or five-day old zygote. Some contraceptives enable the inner layer of the uterus to shed off so that the zygote will die. “The state recognizes the sanctity of family and shall protect and strengthen the family… it shall equally protect the life of the mother and the life of the unborn.” This is embodied in section 5, 11 and 12 of article II of the Constitution of the Republic of the Philippines. Clearly, some contraceptives deny the inherent right of the zygote to live. And this is a violation of the aforementioned sections of the constitution. A new life that is created from the union of the egg cell and the sperm cell is God’s opinion that the world should go on. Let us not be blinded with the problem of over-population. Let us look “life” in a new and more open-minded perspective. Well, one might say that it is the new generation and why settle for natural family planning if there’s a new and safer alternative? Well, if you truly respect life, you will think twice if you should try these alternative contraceptives. The problem of overpopulation is not because of not having safer sex. It is because of the family and the religious values that have been long buried. By recovering these values, we might make better changes to build a better place. Instead of looking for abrupt solutions, let us look beyond and search for the right solution. Let us respect the sanctity of life. Let us not destroy this precious gift that God has given us. Say “YES” to “LIFE.” Live. Initiate. Make a difference. Be an advocate. Why not start right now? (The Sanctity of Life by Benedict Bagang BS–Accty 4A)q

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‘Friends-friends’ na lang JV Trinidad

Sometimes, it’s better to be friends than lovers.

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hile studying Physical Therapy in another university, I had a seatmate who told me about her dilemma, seeking proper advice from me and her other friends. She had two suitors: one was nice, simple, and a total gentleman, but he was not really good-looking; the other was handsome, drove a fashionable car, but he had the makings of a jerk. My seatmate’s problem was, she was ready for a relationship, but she didn’t know whom to choose. Most of us guys sided with Mr. Nice. Most of the girls liked Mr. Handsome but even they thought he wasn’t really boyfriend material, unless you liked dating the rugged, bad boy type. After several dates with the two guys—separately, of course—my seatmate told both of them the same line: “Friends na lang tayo.” Apparently, that line had a very ‘revealing’ effect on the two boys. Mr. Nice turned out to be not-so-nice. Boy, was he sore about getting dumped. And Mr. Handsome turned out to be the better sport, but he also quickly turned his pursuits to other girls—the rugged, bad girl type that better suited his style. My seatmate could only sigh. It took dumping them to see their real colors. That seatmate was on my right. Meanwhile, I had a crush on the seatmate I had on my left. Let’s call her Marcy. Marcy and I hit it off on our first week together as classmates. We became very good friends. We would talk for hours about anything at all, from our families to sports to school stuff to whatever, and we would never get bored. After the Prelims, we had reached what is popularly known as M.U.: Mutual Understanding, although that acronym might as well be Mutually Undecided, as far as I’m concerned. And so we became more than ‘just friends,’ did everything together, shared the same sets of friends, etc. We had another classmate, a champion swimmer with uncharacteristically perfect skin, chestnut hair, and beautiful bluish eyes she probably got from a non-Filipino parent. She was simply lovely to look at, and a joy to have around. To make the long story short, I wanted her. And the smile she gave me told me I was in luck. But one university is not a safe place to keep those kinds of secrets, let alone one classroom, one section, one favorite cafeteria, etc. And so ultimately, my luck turned. I lost them both. The lucky thing about it was, they both became my friends still. But not all of us are that lucky, and those who are that lucky once or twice, might not be all the time. The problem is not that we have a hard time getting into relationships. Take a guy who likes a girl or vice versa, and under favorable circumstances—which aren’t that scarce as far as the dating scene is concerned—it only takes a little time, a little patience, a date here and there, a good choice of words and actions, proper grooming, and a relationship could just be right around the corner. The real problem, however, is maintaining the status quo. From friends to lovers, that’s good, and it’s easy. But from lovers to friends? You had better be lucky. Those who have been jaded too many times with Cupid’s broken arrow may lose interest—at least for the time being—in getting steady with a new love. That is why we are so familiar with the line “Friends-friends na lang muna.” And why not? There are obvious differences between being friends and being lovers. And

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‘Friends-friends’ na lang when the jaded side of you really takes over your psyche, you will find how interesting and mutually advantageous it is to be friends instead of lovers. For instance, if you are late for a date at the movies, you will find your girlfriend standing there looking like Atlas just passed on the weight of the world to her shoulders. And she will be totally cold, so cold and unmoving you might as well be sitting with a statue, and not even the Adam Sandler film you’re watching can brighten her face. You grab her cold, seemingly lifeless hand, and no matter how tightly you hold on to it, her fingers are like Jell-O to your touch. She won’t even hold your stupid hand! And this after you’ve tried to apologize a thousand times about being late because your mother insisted on you driving her to her dancing class. But if you’re going to a movie with a friend, she will wait for you, and if you’re half an hour late, for whatever lame reason, she’ll buy the tickets and the popcorn, find you some seats, and send you a text message telling you to ring her as soon as you’re outside so she can run and give you your ticket, and you can laugh together at Adam Sandler being an Iranian soldier who would rather cut hair. She won’t hold your hand, but she’ll slap you silly while she’s laughing. If you and your boyfriend have a fight, you’ll ignore his text messages all day. Well, not exactly, you’ll read them anyway. But you won’t reply to them. You’ll be thinking, ‘serves you right, jerk!’ and happily go on watching your favorite soap on TV. When his messages stop coming, you begin to wonder—with the tiniest pang of paranoia settling in—but you fight the thought, telling yourself, “Hindi naman niya ko matitiis.” He’s grown tired and weary of sending you apology texts, and his pride is telling him to give himself a break. So he waits for you to start texting him. But you’ve got lover’s pride too, so you wait for him to text. He waits. You wait. And wait. The next day you call all your female friends and start bawling on their shoulders. He hasn’t texted overnight! Where is he?! Meanwhile, if you and your buddy have an argument, you won’t talk for a while. You won’t text; you won’t visit. Then, while queuing up for sundae and fries at the local fast food, you remember how he would pick on your food whenever you ate out together, and you realize that you miss him. And so you call him and say, “Uy, bati na tayo, libre mo ko sa McDo.” And he goes, “Yoko nga!” but you know he’ll be there in five minutes, with a smile and a pat on your shoulder to say he’s sorry he kicked your favorite cat. You know he’ll do it again, but hey, you’re friends, and there’s no pride and prejudice between you. A few days before her birthday, you spend eternity walking in the mall looking for a gift for your girlfriend. You find something you know she would love, but it would take all of your money for you to afford it. You think, what the heck, and you buy it, knowing she loves the brand. Driving home with your expensive gift on the passenger seat, you run out of gas, and you’ve got nothing left in your pockets and under the seat but some change, and so you call your elder brother and ask him to please, please drive over in dad’s car with a few liters of unleaded in a fuel can. And when you get over that predicament and make it alive to your girlfriend’s birthday bash, you give her your prized gift complete with a kiss and a “Happy-birthday-baby-I-love-you,” only for her to tell you that Mike—that guy with a Lancer Evolution she was telling you about who wouldn’t stop bugging her since high school—came over and gave her the same exact gift! To add insult to the injury, her best friend tells you that your girlfriend likes the color of Mike’s gift better! And Mike was thoughtful enough to enclose a personalized card! You didn’t have money left for Hallmark and oh, she also told you once that Mike was a writer and artist, ergo the personalized card. You feel a big ‘L’ burning through the skin on your forehead. Meanwhile, at your friend’s birthday party, you arrive in shorts and sneakers and have a drink with her dad, and you drunkenly tell her, “Heeyy-py birthday!” and give her a tight hug. She goes, “Gift ko?!” and you answer, “Lista mo na muna!” She feigns sulking, and you comment on her makeup, “Bat para kang nasubsob sa harina?” You both laugh and the world keeps on turning. She introduces you to her new suitor and you give the guy a beer and—while your friend is busy welcoming other guests—you whisper to him, “Pag niloko mo kaibigan ko, pare, wag ka magpapakita sa barkada.” You smile at him as he pales. After eating at your favorite pizza joint, you and your friend drive over to her apartment, where you pop open a bag of chips, collapse on the familiar couch, and watch the NBA. She offers you a glass of Coke and you sit together, cheering for the Lakers, talking about other stuff, laughing, and finally, at around 1 AM you say goodnight and she walks you to your beat-up Kia Pride. When you get home, you clean up and hit the sack, not a thought on your mind but what time you’ll be meeting the guys tomorrow

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‘Friends-friends’ na lang for basketball practice. After dining out at a fancy restaurant, you drive your girlfriend home, kiss her goodnight, and leave. When you get home, you clean up, hit the couch, open a can of Coke, and watch the game until you fall asleep. Your cell, being on silent mode, does not wake you up. The next day you find about 50 missed calls and 73 text messages, all but a couple are from your girlfriend. She’s fuming mad about why you did not text her as soon as you got home. Where did you go? Did you even go home? Or were you out with somebody else? And no amount of explaining will convince her that you had fallen asleep on the couch with a Coke can balanced on your tummy. In the dating arena, you have to be sure about what you really want, and what you’re ready for. Those who are more serious about these things should also wonder about their own level of maturity, their readiness to take what’s being thrown at them, and their ability to cope with whatever happens. If you believe you’re ready for a relationship, then by all means, go and grab your slice of the dating pie. Just be sure you can take it if and when the time comes for a lover to be less than that. If you’re not ready for that, or if you have been jaded far too many times to be ready for another heartbreaker far too soon, there’s always another option. What’s that line again? Oh yeah, ‘friends-friends’ na lang muna.q

There is something special in you Sheryl Sagana

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ach and every one of us is created with distinctions. There would be times when you feel you’re futile – someone who isn’t blessed with any talent. You feel so depreciated. It seems that you have nothing to be proud of – that you are different, very much different from those famous people around you. There would come a time that you look at yourself at the mirror, taking your time pointing out those unpleasant things you have inside you. You may even say, “kawawa naman ako; di ako pinagpala.” Then you start uttering these things: “I wish I was like her… beautiful, intelligent, talented, respected… I wish I have those pieces of jewelry… I have that fame… I wish I was loved and cared for that way… I have those friends… I wish I was blessed with those talents… but sad to say, sorry for me… I wasn’t blessed with such things.” This is just a usual scenario. But on the contrary, if you look deeply into yourself, you will see that you are very much mistaken – that you are also blessed with talents waiting to be explored and tapped to their fullest potential for your own advantage; that you just have to learn how to appreciate these talents and you just need that self-esteem, that confidence to show the world that you have those talents… that you have what others have… that you’re capable of doing many things. Be appreciative. Learn to recognize your God-given talents. Be grateful. Thank God for giving you the things you have right now. Be confident. Have that self-esteem to stand up and take your place in this world. Lastly, be a leader. Serve as the pillar that will teach others to be proud of what they have. Lead the change.q

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The artist must create a spark before he can make a fire, and before art is born, the artist must be ready to be consumed by the fire of his own creation. Auguste Rodin

Obra

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Previous page: Ima by Leo Carlo Aguas Mother & Child by Al-Zen Pauline Hilario Centerfold & this page: Pro-life I & II and Solitude by Lorelie Bamba

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This page: Pilipinas by Jan Philippe Cortez Fallen Angel by Lorelie Bamba Facing page: Greed by Jan Philippe Cortez Student’s Life and Memories by Amarantha 12_08

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This page: 10th Avenue and Sand & Sky by Adon Henrik Dizon Facing page: Sky flakes and Mhel by Adon Henrik Dizon Igid ti baybay by Kevin Abad

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Guilty parties. Information about some of the people responsible for this. Melanie Viloria-Briones (Lanie/Mel) Moderator A loving wife and doting mother of two, Melanie is currently a professor at the University of the Assumption School of Arts and Sciences. She majored in Political Science and earned her Master’s Degree in Public Administration both at the UA, and is currently taking up Doctor of Education, Major in Educational Management at Bulacan State University. In 2002, Mel was part of the original group of individuals who revived the Regina from the ashes of its first and only university ban after the release of its most radical and controversial issue two years earlier. Mel plays volleyball and table tennis, and loves picnics. The Regina editors and staff consider her not only as their supportive moderator, but as their good and respected friend, as well. “She will push you to the limits of your talents and intelligence, and sometimes your patience. But at the end of the day, she will support and boost your confidence the way no other friend can.” - JV John Vincent T. Trinidad (John/Vince/Vincent/JV) AB Comm. IV Editor in Chief/Design Director John is a former Physical Therapy student, rock band vocalist, and associate editor of his first campus paper. For a few years he was the advertising and corporate communications head in an automotive conglomerate. He also recently dabbled in writing and producing TV programs. JV is, before anything else, a writer. Next to that, he is an editor, digital graphic artist, voice talent, event organizer, car test driver and reviewer, and multi-awarded short film writer, producer and director. His writing influences include Stephen King and F. Sionil Jose, who authored JV’s favorite anthology of books, the Rosales saga. An all-around sports guy, JV is a Kobe Bryant, Roger Federer and Kimi Raikkonen fan. His favorite films include No Country for Old Men, the Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Big Hit, and A River Runs Through It. He lives by the dictum “When all is said and done, only God will judge me.” Bryan G. Ocampo (Bry) AB Comm. IV Associate Editor Bry knows not the word quit, and so he describes himself as the man of dreams. He is an avid fan of Harry Potter and fantasizes about having pet dinosaurs. His favorite film is Homerun (a Chinese film), and is also fond of watching anime like Ghost Fighter, Cooking Master Boy, Digimon and Pokemon. He follows American Idol, Iron Chef, and the original Survivor series. A former lector and an active choir member in their parish, Bry listens to various types of music but loves Air Supply hits the most. Active and multifaceted, Bry is the president of the UA’s Mass Communications Student Association (MCSA), and is the 2008 Mis-en-Scene Film Festival recipient of Most Promising Student and UA’s Merit for Journalistic Contribution. He was also awarded Best Actor for Cine-Ikli in 2006. He directed the theatrical play Traje de Boda. Behind all the theater and journalistic exposure, Bry actually dreams of becoming a famous chef. He believes that a true winner never quits; he might cry sometimes but he’ll never stop trying. “He makes my job easier. Bry is the kind of guy you always want to tandem with when it comes to work like this. He’s funny, intelligent, talented and effective.” - JV Luz Nathasha Korionoff (Luz/Lucci) BSN Managing Editor Soft-spoken and sometimes very silent, Lucci prefers to observe from the shadows. A Nursing

student, she is next in line for the position of Editor in Chief, a challenge that will not be easy but which she is ready to accept. Lucci is also a short story writer and a fan of love stories. Nielsen S. Ocampo (Sen) AB Comm. II News Editor A consistent recipient of leadership, academic, journalistic, religious, and socio-civic awards, Sen is the current gold medalist for news writing at the regional ATSPAR III. He dabbles in graphics and is also a popular events host. Sen was a school paper editor back in high school. He is one of the most prolific straight news writers of the Regina. Joseph Lawrence T. Manansala (Law) AB Comm. IV Circulation Manager A former Economics student, Law is the Regina’s party guy. He loves movies, especially those of a military nature. He spends his downtimes at home on DVD marathons alone or with friends. Law is a perennial bar hopper and road tripper. Naturally happy-golucky, Law says that his present course at the UA has given him a much needed direction. His favorite quote: “A man’s character is the reality of himself; his reputation, the opinion others have formed about him; character resides in him, reputation in other people; that is the substance, this is the shadow.” Paul Kyrby V. Balingit (Ky/Stra) AB Comm. III Assistant Circulation Manager Given the opportunity, Ky would ban all kinds of food except noodles, his uber favorite. A budding fictionist and poet, Ky is a fan of the films Stardust, The Lord of the Rings, and The Butterfly Effect. He listens to A7X, Guns N Roses, and The Mars Volta. He likes the Power Rangers, cars, cartoons, and sports. Ky lives by the adage “If you want something done right, do it yourself.” Rae Louis S. Maglaqui (Rae/Louie) AB Comm. III Assistant Circulation Manager Rae is a consistent Dean’s Lister and a lover of books. His favorites are The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks, John Bellairs’s The Curse of the Blue Figurine, and Antoine de Saint-Exupery’s classic The Little Prince. Rae has two dogs, Cruella De Ville and Chocolate. He quotes, “I would rather be a swineherd and be understood by the swine, than be a poet and be misunderstood by men.” Adon Henrik L. Dizon (Adon) AB Comm. III Photo Editor Adon is not a talker; he is a doer. Silent and sometimes shy, he nonetheless loves singing Rico Blanco songs. He plays the guitar, flute, piano, and drums. But everyone knows that his premier fascination is photography. “I capture everything that catches my attention,” he says, and he does. Simple and unassuming, Adon’s favorite dish is tortang talong. He loves Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s original creation Sherlock Holmes, and Absolute Boyfriend manga. His preferred films are Moon Child and Last Quarter but he is a heavy enthusiast of anime and a Gundam fan. He has the coolest quote you will ever see on this page: “The sun doesn’t rise at 2:00 AM.” What that means, we don’t exactly know. Kriselle Jhean Navarro (Sey-Sey) AB Comm. IV Senior Correspondent According to her, she was named after the talk show host Kris Aquino which explains her being talkative and tactless. Sey loves Winnie the

Pooh, Paris Hilton, the books of Jessica Zafra and Dan Brown, the Reader’s Digest, chick flicks, and Steven Spielberg films. She is active in hosting events, radio announcing or DJ-ing, and writing. She won 2nd place nationwide SPAM, 1st place ATSPAR III, and 7th place Luzon-wide, all in feature writing, and 2nd place Pa-psych Laban Quiz Bee. She professes loving orange cats, rodents and hamsters. She believes that nothing is impossible if there is determination. Samboy Musngi (Samboy) BSN Correspondent Samboy is the recognized sports writer of the paper. A Nursing student, he believes in the diligence required to fulfill his dreams and inspire the sick he will take care of and help heal in the future. Aside from sports like basketball, Samboy loves watching anime and sentai, and can spend hours viewing music videos. His favorite reads are graphic novels such as Pol Medina Jr.’s Pugad Baboy series, and Manix Abrera’s Kikomachinemix. A sports fanatic through and through, his motto is Dwyane Wade’s “Fall seven times, stand up eight.” Kevin Tuazon (Chucks/Kebon) AB Comm. I Correspondent God-fearing, Church-serving Chucks is a choir singer. He plays lead guard in basketball, and is an Airsoft devotee. He is a recipient of MCSA’s Most Promising Student Award and was a Boy Scout of the Year in high school. He is guided by the words, “You over fear; not fear over you.” Kevin Abad (Keb/Badong/Abdone/Abdul/ Abdullah/Abad) AB Comm. I Correspondent Perhaps the quickest to receive a new nickname every time among all staff members in the history of the Regina, Abdone is the paper’s resident funnyman. He is good with the lens and quick with his jokes. A Johnny Depp fan, his work as a theater director and actor in high school won him the admiration of many. He also plays the piano and guitar, sings, dances, and does stand up comedy. Abdone is a goldwinning Taekwondo welterweight. He says, “That’s life. What more can you ask for?” Michael Angelo Calupe (Milo) AB Comm. II Artist Milo is a basketball player first, and an artist second. He has the most difficult hobby of all: watching people. Sean Aurelio C. Garcia III (Sean/Ainse) Artist Pasta-loving, DOTA-playing, self-professed ‘weird’ artist Sean is one of the Regina’s youngest members. He considers Scrabble his sport, and himself as sophisticated in etiquette. A UA student since high school, he believes in the quote, “Never underestimate anyone; if you have nothing good to say, just shut up!” Mark Joshua C. Lansangan (Josh/Butanding/Butad/MJ/Adik/Lambotido) AB Comm. I Correspondent The story behind Lambotido’s nickname is one for the record books of funny anecdotes, but it is also a well-kept personal joke. Josh plays the bass, reads books like Dave Pelzer’s A Child Called It, and has a dog named Tiger. A selfconfessed former online game addict (he coined the term CABALbalan), he also plays basketball and chess. His favorite films are Forrest Gump and The Devil’s Advocate.

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