*verdad

Life’s intricate patterns are hard to follow. When you get lost, you will find yourself helpless, drowning in distress. Sometimes, it would seem better to ignore those trivial yet overt details, but acting as if nothing is wrong in spite of these quite palpable realities will never change anything.

Now, I admit I am at a loss. I do not know what to think. I do not know what to do. I cannot point my finger on what I want. And these empty moments wherein these thoughts suddenly materialize just aggravate my frustration. It seems that the intertwining of such inimitably deceitful circumstances has brought life to the lapse in my sanity. Fortunately though, my overstressed brain is still lucid enough to determine that something is wrong.

I wish it is enough to believe in life, in love, in promises. But that is a wish that has been asked by many and yet simultaneously, that is a wish that has stagnated at some point in time. Believing is something that many-a-person has underrated. And once again, I admit to this.

I have lost myself trying to believe the things that negate the others that I am afraid to face. All could have been better if I, myself, knew better. Believing is beyond just the utterance of the words “I believe…” In fact, believing has nothing to do at all with its declaration.

The authenticity of belief can only be realized by mutual trust. And by mutual, I do not mean blind. One can never trust with the foundation of lies, or better yet, uncertainty. To build belief, it has to have firm grounds. Bottom-line, trust first before you believe. This is as simple as trusting first your own capability to sing, per se, before believing that you will win in a singing competition. The belief of going home a victor in that competition will be futile if one does not trust his own capability in the first place. Trust is a prerequisite to belief.

Sometimes, however, the hands of fate take control. It does not only hold sway, it has the power to shatter even the strongest belief that you hold on to, even to the point of beguiling you with the world’s most evil temptations. But life always has two sides. It is with fate’s coming that external forces pick you up and fight with you and you wonder why you have struggled alone when you can fight your demons with fervent help. Then again, when their duties are done, you have to learn to stand on your own once again and recover trust and belief, neither in life nor in love, not even in promises but in yourself. Only then will you really be able to believe in life, in love and in promises.

I need not curse or rant or pester myself with these empty moments and the thoughts they give birth to. For the only things I could be sure of are my own emotions. Being doubtful and keeping induced vile thoughts in this frolicking mind I have atop my neck would only banish me into the fires of bitterness. Let not the mind think and allow the heart to perform its miracles.

Someone once told me, “Love is a matter of heart over mind…”

I trust and believe you, but that does not need any saying anymore. I feel it now.

In the end, I have realized, it is hard to follow life’s patterns because it is not meant to be followed. I have decided to create my own path for in a path that is your own, you will never get lost.

A crescent emerges.

The heat
Of the night intensifies
And pierces a sleeper’s soul
That slumbers
As metal starts to spin.

Rays of thunder
Wave in copper
Birth
Of wind, of breeze,
Of lullaby.

Time moves in speed
And sand appears
In twins of
Black and white,
Orb and circle.

Impregnation of
Imagination.
Visions of color
Of life, of death
Of smiles, of horror.
Unborn.

Lucidly immobile
Yet the spirit traverses
And the mind at rest
Flowing in a journey
Fate controls.
Until cheese
Sinks in deep ocean.

Yellow lights appear,
Render time in slow motion.
And gust of blades
In a click, fades.
Metallic wind halts
Eternity passes in legless steps

A new day dawns
Yet in vain will be the wait
When the crescent emerges
Once more,
And metal sings a lullaby
In a sleeper’s favored moment
When feathers and cotton
Caress his soul
And loud whispers of wind
Rid his mind
Of pain, of strain.

And embarks
In the same journey
Through ecstasy
As spinning metal
Lulls him deeper into slumber
Where reality is simply,
Unreal.

Z|E|R|E|P|O|R|T|H|E|J™

I dream of trembling beneath a piercing rain
As whirls of clouds hover celebrating sins
Of you and me and you and me in pain
Of me to you and you to me.

Dandelion globes come seeking me
With gusts of sympathetic air
To caress a heart so empty
And a mind from an endless stare.

Melancholic sunsets are what I see
They show me how a love can wait
Yet not how I shall be set free
From this world where one and all are baits.

Baits for fortune and making love;
Promises of love and luxury beds
That end up like a dying dove
With feathers white and dripping red.

Meander into dreamy moonlit shores
Where toes sink in sparkling sand
That turns out to be a dream once more
That banishes our sins to a faraway land.

Z|E|R|E|P|O|R|T|H|E|J™

Papillon, paint me with your wings
Flutter near, color my heart of gray
With rainbow palettes and love to bring
That shall endure, come what may.

Somewhere ‘round the clock,
Papillon, you soared into my life.
In my parched heart, you were locked
Yet love and virtue were tied by strife.

Speak about the flowers of your past
And how you shared sweet affinities
Yet love me now, Papillon, for I am the last
To share with you, kisses, hugs, life, honey.

Sing me hymns of our burning dreams, intimacy
That against fervent tempests you and I fly fancy,
For whilst together, we conjure up a vow to bond…
…To love, Papillon, forever and beyond.

oOo


* Papillon – [páppə lòn, paàpee yáwN] French, “butterfly”


Z|E|R|E|P|O|R|T|H|E|J™
08.31.09

The greatest gift your parents can give you is education.

To this, I cannot help but agree. Education is the magical elevator that will take us to places, and no one can deny that; unless anyone has ever been on Willy Wonka’s glass elevator, then who needs education right? But this is not the case. In spite of my steadfast agreement on the matter, one can only ride that elevator when he has earned the right to do so by climbing flights of stairs first. And mind you, it’s not as easy as it sounds.

Disclaimer: I know that some would say that it’s too early to say UP life is hard or easy or fun or lame considering I’ve only been an Iskolar ng Bayan for two months but I can honestly say that those two months has been the whirlwind of all whirlwinds and I am certain that more whirlwinds are to come. And this is the story of two months in the life of one fresh isko.

i. Promdi: transitioning from high school to college

I enrolled in UP Manila because of so many things, but not one of these things was the right reason. Among these reasons are the following; no dress code (yey!), it’s right in front of Robinson’s (what they call the campus mall), air conditioned rooms, and the beautiful ladies (even more yey!). The only thing I didn’t like is that UPM is grossly infested with stray cats which are unimaginably filthy. And so cutting the list short, I thought college life in UP was nothing more like HS in a de-uniformed level plus more cats, I did not think being an Iskolar ng Bayan would lay down surprising difficulties.

Obviously, I was wrong.

In the first days, I often walked into Rizal Hall with a perky attitude, seemingly ready and happy to encounter new things. I particularly enjoyed the welcoming programs where Indayog would usually perform. (that was about the only thing I looked forward to). Being a freshman, I wanted to remain optimistic and sprightly with my dealings throughout the four coming years. I was so excited to meet new people, learn new things and shop in Rob. *laughs

ii. Realizations commence

When the introductions, hi’s and hello’s were said and awkward first impressions were created alongside first petty conversations, it started to get a little bit serious. Stacks of photo copied reading materials fell onto our work list like heavy rainfall after a century of drought. I initially thought I was over and done with photoxed readings when I left HS behind when in fact I was about to enter Xerox heaven.

Combined with the threat of A(H1N1), the toxicity level of UP education was in an all-time high. This was truly unexpected. One of my professors even said that UP culture is definitely not easy, in fact, UP stands for Unibersidad ng Pagpapahirap, Pagsasakripisyo, Pagsusunog-kilay, Pagpupuyat at ng mga Pusa. And he, himself personified his definition of UP culture. Although I admit that he is an excellent professor, having mastered History better than anyone I know, he reaches a point where students cannot tolerate his habitual splurge of information overload any longer. He would’ve given us a firm foundation in History if he hadn’t been diagnosed with A(H1N1).

iii. The Manila Collegian

Not so long after getting acquainted with block mates and other people, the optimistic freshmen started sorting the organizations they can join, and which ones fit their interest. I had my eyes fixed on the prestigious Manila Collegian, the official publication of the University of the Philippines Manila. However, I hesitated to apply, as I questioned my own writing ability. Until one day, I was jostled in the MKule office by my block mate so that he would have someone to accompany him. So now after 5 hours of written exam and an hour-long interview, I am one of MKule’s news writers.

Originally being a features writer, I found it hard trying to adjust to the structured format of news writing. Technicalities aside, what really burdened me was the pressure of having academic activities on top of my news covers and vice versa.

Furthermore, conflicts arose with the fact that I am both a writer for an anti-government radical news publication and a transient resident of Malacanang Park. This issue is what worries my family the most, especially that my first news assignment was about the abduction of Sherlyn Cadapan and Karen Empeno, two UP students who were abducted by suspected military men sometime three years ago. Because of this subject, they are now asking me or better yet ordering me to finally quit. But I simply don’t want to.

All I really want to do is to write, because that is what I love to do and I’m passionate about it. I don’t mean to disrepute the government or PGMA or anyone for that matter, I just want to be able to do what I love to do but MKule’s “biased stand” as how my family would call it, is now hindering me from fulfilling my only active creative outlet.

I don’t know what to do. If only red fireworks that signal help would work on this, I would’ve already lit a whole crate of dynamites.

iv. A little brightening up

Despite so many things to bear in mind, I have come to appreciate the presence of my new found friends. They fill in the empty moments in between press work and academic labor with petty conversations and joke injections that are enough to make me realize that life is really like this. With just a little brightening up from them, I’d feel that everything is worth the hard work. This is the flight of stairs I have to climb to get to that magical elevator – the magical elevator that will take me to far places. And that was two months in my life as an iskolar ng bayan, so far.

Disclaimer for the disclaimer: UP life can never really be certainly described because it is everything of everything. It is here that an array of opportunities will present themselves to you and each one, a different experience. Holistic judgment will eventually prove to be futile.