The SCENEdicate

My Comeback Entry: My Power, My Strength, My Refuge

2010-08-03T11:09:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time since I left this page. Now, that my emotional instability has returned, there's nothing stopping me from posting some of the most ridiculous posts I would never imagine doing.

Wide awake, with 4 minutes left before the clock strikes two in the morning, I wondered where my life would be in ten years time, based on what I am having now, what responsibilities I am relishing now, and what risks I am trying to face now. There are a lot of opportunities out there waiting for the right person to grab it.

As for me, I clasped a few of those opportunities and I'm finding it hard to balance everything. I write posts on at least 10 blogs that I set up. I am a leader in the community. I kind of pass and raise the bar in some of my academic endeavors. I can mingle with everyone -sociable enough but not feeling close to an extent that I'd be annoying any stranger I am drawn nearby because of social intuition.

Still, there are a lot of things I'd want to do in life which I know that even before I could have done if I pushed myself towards it and never felt afraid to try. I want to dance, sing and act. I want to strum the guitar, hit the drums, play the piano, and serenade someone if only I could have tended my voice back then. I want to become an adept swimmer, a skilled inventor and a talkative genius. I want to be rich and famous, and wealthy. I want to have more hours to spend each day. I want to be who He wants me to become.

I want to do all of these because of Him, besides the fact that I want to outshine and be outstanding in front of my family's eyes. I want to do all of these because I want to make everyone know that God is my sole source of energy and spirit. I want to do all of these because He who made me, brought me here on Earth for a purpose, to tell everyone that we are great people. We can only achieve greatness if we learn to look back to where we've come from.

He is my power. He is my strength. He is my refuge.

An Open Letter to President-elect Noynoy Aquino

2010-06-22T01:03:00.001-07:00

From a concerned blogger and student,

During those times when election campaigns were always on the spotlight, I did not perceive that you will be our next leader; maybe because I relied on rumors of you not passing any Bill to Congress which I thought was one powerful weapon to please and convince the Filipino public. But the Cory-Ninoy magic worked; I was definitely wrong. Admittedly, your campaign ads were abstract and unimaginable. I think everyone knows that. Ideal, but forget about it. You defeated all the other contenders, fair and square (I hope), and earned the highest government position in the country. (Yes Sir, you earned it). Well, what can I do? The people chose you. You're my leader now. The youth sees you as their role model. (I'm predicting an increase in demand for cigarettes). My mind speaks that I have to beat you when I reach your age. I look up to you now, I think.

Now that those advertisements, those expensive tours, and those promising words are now at the brink of public amnesia, I want to remind you Sir that your leadership's what our fellowmen seek. Our people look forward to what you and your Administration will do (not just "might do") to bring prosperity to our people. No, I'm not talking about corruption.

Hello? If you plan to steal, please don't do it in public. C'mon, share it to everyone. You'll make the Reds angry. I know you cannot please everyone (as I too can't) so please be wise in your decisions. Don't just appoint someone because of utang na loob. Moreover, your political advisers are not the President; they shouldn't be dictating to you what you should do.

Please prove to the world that there is still hope for significant progress in protecting human rights and bringing back peace to the violent south. I fully support the statements stated in an open letter to you from concerned groups in Australia and New Zealand.

The open letter demands that:

To restore the public’s faith in the justice system and build up confidence for the peace process, we ask you to take steps to:

1. Immediately release the 43 health workers and all political prisoners who remain in unjust detention on purely fabricated charges under the campaign of political repression of the Arroyo presidency.

2. End Arroyo’s Oplan Bantay Laya and all forms of repressive campaigns against trade unions, peasant groups and all legal mass organisations critical of corruption, military abuses, economic plunder and anti-poor policies of the government.

3. Promote greater protection of media workers and undo the efforts to make the Ampatuans go scot-free for the 25th November 2009 massacre that claimed the lives of the biggest number of journalists in a single day.

4. Ensure justice for all victims of extra-judicial killings and enforced disappearances. Prosecute the main perpetrators of rights abuses like the notorious Gen. Jovito Palparan.

5. Order the opening of all military detention camps and facilities for the kin and human rights advocates to search for victims of enforced disappearances.

6. Fulfill the long-overdue compensation for surviving victims of the Marcos dictatorship.

Political power is still imminent in the hands of the public's major traitors. I don't want to see puppets and puppeteers. You know what I mean, Sir.

Lastly, I request from you Mr. President to hear the voices of the majority (not just the elite) and help alleviate poverty incidences (not just by eliminating corruption 'cause I don't think you can), but by providing everyone access to education and creating a lot of jobs.

I've heard this so many times. I would just like to say that our people's hopes are in your hands (so stop that hyped puffing), your excellency. We are with you (I guess); please don't ruin our trust. Please don't fail us (for the nth time).

Hope this reaches you.

(Apologies for the informality of this message)

The Realm

2009-10-06T20:55:00.001-07:00

Blogger is a portal for writers to publish their works online and for readers to see what's going on with other people. Through this, writers can express their feelings without making a draft on a piece of paper. With the boom of the blogging industry, blogger is one of the pioneering websites. This can also be a source of income for freelance writers.

in reference to: Blogger: Dashboard (view on Google Sidewiki)

A Story of Fiction: Sentiments of a 13-year Old

2008-09-28T20:24:00.000-07:00

I was walking along that dim, strange sidewalk, when a flock of hungry bats obstructed my way. With no hesitation, I tried to capture one but never made it. With that striking hunger vicious in their eyes, it flew over me, and flogged me, bit me one by one, until the pain covered my capacity for reckless feedback. It stole my strength, blaming on me my weakness.

I had been hardly breathing. I had laid there for a few minutes dead meat, for scavenging cats and roaming rascals to have a party tonight, when I woke up.

From then on, that indescribable pain never lasted. It reached into my memory, digging in the lasts of what was reality to me. That once in a creepy dream, I had been left spared in the dark, is the present which continuously leaves a mark on me being human. For I lamented the grievances of someone seeking for affection. When all I really wanted was to feel the brilliance of life.

I begged that I may feel NOW as my past, wherein I could jive with them, click some shots, sit stuck amidst the traffic, crack those jokes, play with the music in marsh blending, watch the movies flicker, drop the compunctions, evade the snubs, derive an imbroglio, and imbue the ecstasy of life.

Now, I'm left with an inchoate character. I feel imaginary. Misplaced in yesterday's realm. Buried 5 feet and 11 inches, just an inch before extinction.

If only humans had such an ability, to hear the whispers of the longing heart, I could have stayed and escaped from abandonment.

I couldn't have been mute, in expressing my sentiments to this abject loneliness. When all this time, I needed them most, to resist the lame upshot of being left.

It's not That Hard To Imagine

2008-09-28T20:14:00.000-07:00

I used to feel that I know my own limits, and in me lay the concept of what I am to become, of what I want to be part of, of what I will be doing in the near future, of what I think would be nice for me, of how my fears would start to end its dreary situation, of which path would I choose next.

It's amazing to see myself living with no one special to care of. All I have to think is myself, my own survival.

Sometimes I start to wonder, am I assuring myself what's best for me? Have i grown up enough to face the crowd of danger? Or am I just playing with this contemporary game I entered, running backwards, and hiding from the challenges associated with maturity.

That's life I thought. "Life is just a chance to grow a soul", I told myself of this familiar quote by Powell Davies. And, from that point in time I learned the value of sacrifice, to this point where I write my responses trying to reach out to my fellow readers and express the privileges of being human, I push myself to the essence of having a life lived for others which keeps me worthy intended to solving every day's riddle, and to reserving my strength to unexpected, fallen circumstances of failure, which almost got me to the point of surrendering, to help me uplift my personality and improve my well-being.

And now, I dream that someday I may stand up with my feet solid from the rocky steps through which I have fallen, wherein my downs would have carried me one step higher, to that certain fulfillment of a lifetime.

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Dreams Aimed: a Sacrifice

2008-09-28T03:40:00.000-07:00

Those phrases, a construction of words soothingly echoing back and forth into my ear, wherein she would try to interfere in the blissful sleep of the morning.

Always the topic discussion of the House. When will I learn to comply with the discipline of forcing myself to stand up in the middle of the chilly dawn? When will I grow up?

Till now, when I had been wondering how I could have done it
right, without the alarming nuisance of the ticking clock, without the waste of
an hour for my soul and body to reach out and compose a ring-a-bell rhythm, and
without that speech heard-spoken. I just found out how ceremonious it
could have been. Buzzing within your sense of hearing all the time. But,
somehow I found out how I grieve for those
minutes of emancipated talk.

And now, all I've been trying to focus on, is the goal to score the days' worth and the aim to scrap all those blank pages off my memory (so faced) to attain a positive result, to retrieve back.
Yes. This is what I've dreamed of, what I yearned for, to take the flight and direct my plight to where it would lead me to. To accept the challenge and lead the way. But, I never really demanded to be separated from home for it is where I truly belong. It's the sanctuary of my own emotions. I seek refuge through it.

I am for my happiness, but to purpose, I crave for passion.

A reason why I always direct my dreams tomorrow. Cause it's always pain and frustration that arise from my perspectives, not minding the completeness I feel being with some friends to rely on.

Copyright © 2008

posted last January 28, 2006 in WritingCampus.com

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