BURN - PANANAW Volume 2

ABOUT THE COVER The fire has been lit. So today, We BURN. Once, people lived the life of the millennia. Millennials were then in control, them who were prophesized to pave the way for greater heights, for greater potential. Then came the discovery of the new era of citizens who are described to be citizens of the infinite internet netizens. They are those who bash, who critic, who witness. They are said to see all and see far. But they see nothing but imperfection: every mistake from every narrative and every fault from your past which can render you irrelevant. They could, and so they did. Post the era of hype came the period of savagery. Being lit eventually fell off the trend and he who gained internet clout was he who could formulate a sentence in the limit of 280 characters powerful enough to end a person’s life. People immediately started tweeting after the lit parties were over. Destroying one person’s life to another, the internet became hell’s kitchen. Fire was all over the place and everyone were playing Gordon Ramsay. Hence, there is a need to curate the problematic society into a version of the world as a better place. There exists a demand to expose the problems of the world so that they may be known by all. After all, you are a netizen too. Aren’t you? Words by John Clarenze C. Macalintal Front and back cover art by Audrey B. Diaz



No one is safe from the flame. When fed by oxygen, even the smallest hint of heat, the flame of a matchstick can be reborn as forest fire. The pillar of flames shall sear through the forest and the collateral will involve many. After every tree is torn apart by the spreading inferno, the hellfire will devour not just the forest but the land and it shall leave nothing but dust. As the forest is set on fire, The world will watch it burn. But there is an exception. A selected few will attempt to save the forest, and when there is no saving left to do, it is then time to grieve.



PÁNANAW Volume II, Issue 1 The Official Literary Folio of CRESCIT, the official Senior High School Publication of De La Salle Lipa Copyright © 2019 by Crescit All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic, including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the Editorial Board, except permitted by Law. The Board reserves the right to edit and not publish entries for reasons of quality, relevance, aesthetics, and space. Any similarities to existing persons (living or dead), places, icons, and institutions are purely coincidental or were used in pursuit of creative excellence. For submissions, queries, suggestions, or feedback, reach us at crescit.pub@ gmail.com. Connect with us in www. facebook.com/crescit or at www. twitter.com/crescit for more updates. PÁNANAW is published by CRESCIT, the official publication of De La Salle Lipa Senior High School 1962 JP Laurel National Highway, Lipa City, Batangas.

TABLE OF CONTENTS 01 Prologue 03 Stages of Grief 04 Stage 1: Denial 07 Aversion 09 Guess Who Killed Humanity 10 Now is Not Your Time 13 Cultural Appr(eciation)opriation 15 Wrong Death 15 Litatio 16 Ang Langit Ko’y Impyerno ng Iba 19 Wildflower 21 We Choose What We See 22 Dream State Reality 25 Leader Boss: The Tale of Two Alphas 27 Lack of Political Stand 29 Bar Exam 2028 31 Muted 33 Sa Pagitan ng Mga Tugma 35 Piling Ignorante 37 Ang Mansyon 38 Stage 2: Stagnation 41 Sa Paanan ng Bundok 42 My World 43 Pride 45 Disconnected 49 Fearsome? Fear some? 51 Passiveness 10 53 Bokya 55 Alarm Clock 57 No More Than This 59 The Defining Factor 60 Bahala Na 63 Tamang Tsempo 65 Player One 66 Procrastination Reigns 69 Scarlet Parade 71 Ang Tinig ng Makasalanan 75 Ito na Lang ba Ako?

76 Stage 3: Consolidation TABLE OF CONTENTS 78 Hi 81 Napulot na SD Card sa Purok 5, Sta. Clara 85 Sounds of the Prayer 87 Chances 89 Annyara 93 Bagong Umaga 95 50-50 97 Spin the Bottle 99 Attached 101 Out of Focus 103 Kung Saan Nagsimula ay Doon Din Babalik 105 When I Grow Up, I Want to Be 107 Better 109 Tilamsik ng Pag-asa 111 Monster Under My Bed 113 White Room 119 Maybe Not All Fires Burn 120 Stage 4: Emergence 123 Sa Wakas 125 Notes to Self 127 Escape from the Darkness 129 Turtle 131 Ang Anatomiya ng Tadhana 132 Tomorrow 133 The Boy Who Knew Nothing 135 A Peek at Leah’s Life 137 The Power of Love vs The Love of Power 139 What a Woman Can Do 141 Growth 143 You Are 145 The Astronomy of Perspective 147 Ang Paglimot ay Bahagi ng Pagkakilala 153 Ang Sining sa Pagkamatay at Pagsibol 155 Epilogue 156 Index

Grieve when you must, grieve when you can. Have you ever loved, lost someone? Has the emptiness within ever won against you? Has the woe by the loss of someone dearly or something sentimental ever gripped you to your core rendering your form dysfunctional? If you have ever, then you know who I am. If not, you need not worry; for I am coming for you. The anguish is necessary to become a better version of yourself. No man safe from tragedy the same way no lover is uninjured from the torment of love. It is impossible to walk past tragedy without no hint of misery; it is but natural to be saddened, distressed, upset and hurt by the sudden shock of things you cannot yet accept. Hence, it is necessary to lament, to mourn, to weep, and when you do, you will know my name. True to what they say, I am the echo you say you don’t hear; the shadow you choose not to see. I am the voice within who shall make you beg for another chance, even when you don’t want one. Oh you will. You just don’t know it yet. I am that who they call grief and I, unlike them, will be with you as you mourn for your loss and we will weep together. Remember my name as the endearment you call your loved ones. Take me as a family figure of some sort, I will be your mother-father-figure to watch time tell you the truth as it kills you and everyone you love every second you live. Truth be told, you have been dying since the moment you were born. You just don’t know it yet. Oh don’t act surprised. This is just the beginning. 1



3

How many times have you shunned me today? Shut your eyes when I came to stand before you? You can try but I will always come back, for I am the absolute truth. Don’t you know how long I waited to finally lay my hands on you and enthrall you with my cold embrace? I will make you gasp for air, reaching for your kinds’ so called oxygen. I’ll let go of you for a while to breathe, but the truth is... YOU ARE NEVER GONNA GET IT. I will drain the life out of your frailty. I will have you on both knees, begging to end the suffocating anguish. I will make you doubt yourself, your friends, your family, your God but like all rules, That premise will have an exception. But that exception would be me. Just how damned can you be? You.will.never.doubt.me. To every question you ask, I will always be the answer. Always.

Ignorance a nine-letter state of the oblivious



AVERSION If people fear the unknown and they are scared of what they cannot understand… --are you afraid of me? For thousands of years have you been afraid of things you cannot understand. Yet, you have not gotten over the fear despite how much time has passed. In spite of how much you have discovered, the phobia of the unknown still lingers. There it lies, beneath the nerves of your human nature, that flaw which defines the limits of your perfection. It exists as a phenomena we cannot fathom, as a craving we cannot sate, as an illness we cannot cure- as an illness we are not meant to cure. The fear is but a glitch to mankind’s innate lust for control. But there is a loophole in that enigma: humans crave control while they too, do not wish to be controlled- everybody wants to rule the world. Nonetheless, there is a way to curate that flaw: comprehension. To understand and to be understood has been the way of men to settle agreements, to establish bonds, only to destroy them a while after. Till death shall they part, they say. I say bullshit, an unidentifiable intent concealed by a good actor. Life is all about acting, after all. People love to pretend that they have everything under control. By all means, in every way they can will they conceal the panic that rattles them inside out. Their hands shaking behind their back, shoulder tics penetrating their systems. Stutters silencing them as they speak, choking them on their own thought bubbles. Their breaking sweat, giving their cover away. Have you not noticed how much people lie in front of you and behind your back? Their promises glorified as prophecies by the media, the slurs, curses and threats people treat as gospels. Does it not disturb you? How the powerful live by the concept of killing, how as of the moment, at least 13,000 of your brethren and many more die on the hands of the one you serve. The numbers continue to increase daily, each death left with no more meaning than just a newspaper statistic. The victims not even remembered by names, just by numbers. Does it not disturb you? The way they say they live for the applause, the way the poor die for it? Think about it. Everything you have and everyone you know are the things that life can take in an instant. You just have to be unlucky enough, become one of the unfortunate ones and you’ll know what it feels like to be helpless. To not be cared about, to be ignored, just passed through in an attempt to pretend to be oblivious, to be neglected. According to CNN Philippines, 1 woman or child is raped per hour. From Rappler, at least 33 people are murdered by those who play Gods without permission. At the global scale, a person falls victim to suicide every 40 seconds. 24 people per minute are victims of physical violence and 2,000 innocent children disappear from the grid everyday. The people who desire control more than everybody else are conquering the streets one murder at a time. Yet you dare pretend that you see nothing when people around you fall apart. 13,000. The number of dead enough to fill the entire MOA Arena at a sporting event. Are you not bothered? Still comfortable, in that little, happy bubble of a world you live in, aren’t you? 7



GUESS WHO KILLED HUMANITY A Kingdom ruled by a King with his people having the rights to have its gun. Given the freedom, power and choice, the people will shape the dominion. These guns are supposed to be used as a defense mechanism. Something to eliminate wrongs and alleviate discipline and wisdom. Bullets as the judgment to someone or something based of recognized errors. Every man can judge and criticize, express one’s opinion. Every man has its own thoughts and way in seeing through things. Trigger, the sound, the medium wherein one can portray his or her perspective. Man chooses what to say. Man chooses whether they’d speak up. Fingers, the slender jointed parts of the hand. The King gave his Men the capability to choose and make their own decisions.They could either choose to do wrong or do good. Bullets as criticism, trigger as voice, fingers as a choice. The King is just a guide but the people hold the power. The Kingdom is falling apart at present-day, it’s becoming a battlefield. Man pulls the trigger as if it’s not hurting anybody. The man pulls the trigger with the unawareness of its impact. Bang! “You will never be enough” Bang! “You are wrong.” Bang! “You are useless”. Gunshots after gunshots, loud and powerful yet erroneous. The guns that supposed to radiate hope brought, instead, fear and chaotic sounds, the kind we all hate to hear. Everything is a choice, everyone should decide. Rather than lowering the guns and help each other to eliminate malaise, Men decided to point at each others’ head and guess who killed humanity? Humanity holds the power, who would have thought it could self-destruct? 9

content warning: suicide NOW IS NOT YOUR TIME 7:03am Ugh. I’m late again. What a way to start the end of my days. I look around my dorm and see all of clothes neatly folded. Nice. On my desk are the letters I have written the night before. Great. As I take a peek into the bathroom, I see all the things I need later tonight set up perfectly. 7:45am I get myself fixed and head to the elevator. Despite what the time tells, I feel no need to rush to my 8:00 am class. I’m gonna be late anyway, why bother to tire myself? Another person comes in the elevator. It’s just Bree- a blockmate of mine. She rarely goes to school late, she’s anxious, I see it. The subtle way her pretty dimples shake as she tries to hold the smile she always pulls off gives it away. I guess even the Acting Student Body President has their days. Well, I get her, it is election day after all. She cheerfully smiles at me and I simply wave back. The doors of the elevator opens and I simply walk out and head to the jeepney shed while waiting for a ride. 8:37am I finally get to class. The teacher wasn’t surprised since it clearly showed in my grades that I didn’t care for school, he so wittily remarked. Nice joke, Walter. I space out again as I look at the trees by the window of our classroom. I hear the PA screech and the principal talk about something I didn’t bother listening to and just continued watching the leaves fall. I hear some applause, and multiple “Congratulations!” in our room. The celebration almost drowned the loneliness I felt for a while. Almost. I guess our principal announced something about the elections. The bell rang. 11:23am I’m in the cafeteria with my friends. I’m really gonna miss them. Jess is telling us about the haunted hospital she read online while Korina kept pushing us to join her outreach program for out-of-school children later this month. Pfft, like I’ll reach that time. They’re gonna do so great without me. I’m even doing them a favor getting out of their lives- one less struggle they have to deal with, one less burden to carry. I can’t be a liability; they’re too good for me. I could do nothing to them but bring them down. I place my tray back to the disposables and bump into something—someone rather. It was Carl, he was carrying flowers decorated with a mini disk that said something corny about deserving something. I don’t know, he apologized and after exchanging awkward apologies, we parted ways on opposite directions. Our feet growing further apart at every step. 10

Why am I like this? Am I that awkward? Ugh, can’t this day end? 1:48pm We got a half day today, that was great. I stopped by a milktea place for a modern version of a “last meal”. But after which I went straight home, the earlier we could go home was the earlier I could get gone. I walked in my unit and took one last look around. I see the wind from my window pushed around some of the letters on my desk, I quickly fix them as I lay my milktea cup down. As I finish, I take a deep breath. This is it. My end. My last chapter. My epilogue. —“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH” That wasn’t my scream. I stand up and look out my window and see a familiar uniform. I stand by my window for a legit 3 minutes trying to figure out who that was. Until I finally saw it. Familiar body. Familiar person. My phone then vibrates nonstop. Alerts from my school’s page. News from different social media platforms alerting me with all the same knews, “Newly Elected Student Council President, Bree Cruzat commits suicide at dormitory”. Woah. 11



CULTURAL APPR(ECIATION)OPRIATION It’s useless to know its history and value It isn’t true that Appreciating is directly proportional to understanding A common belief of those who possess respect and sentimentality There is no line between appropriation and appreciation Don’t believe them when they are trying to instill that- It’s not normal to take something that you don’t own Taking or wearing from other culture without repercussions Embracing the food, fashion, and the likes that emanate from different cultures They use these for their own gain A dominant culture uses Boomerangs , Feathered headdresses, bindis As a mere fashion statement. It’s not our responsibility to fully educate ourselves with its importance and sanctity It’s a false belief that- Cultural appropriation exists when we ignore to understand the heritage of others; Maybe we should see it through a magnifying lens (read from bottom to top) 13



WRONG DEATH My room is balmy- oppressive but somehow soothing. The crooked cracks and the flaking of the navy blue paint of my walls matched with the sweet pleasing odor of the patched blanket my mother left me. Mama always taught me to always do the right thing and be kind. She’s surely someone I looked up to. She made me believe that my small good acts could be of big change and up until now I carry that lesson. As my room got more tepid and the night went deeper, the light of the moon penetrated my window creating lines on my ceiling for me to stare at. The shadow of it slowly creeped further as the night went on. Until I found myself staring back to what caused my dismay; the right most corner of my room- a wooden table with a melting candle, a vase, and a picture of my beautiful mother. A life was taken without any investigations. I think they accused the wrong person, we may be poor but my Mama is innocent. She would never have the money or even the guts to sell and use those tightly packed illegal powders. She would preferably drain her body of selling pastries on streets than to sell the life ruining drugs. A bitso-bitso vendor and a great mother was all she was. Now, this is all what’s left of me. A room filled with memories and a life of injustice. LITATIO Here I am, the victim and the casualty Try to laugh since it’s black comedy Shackle over shackle, I am being strangled By the hands that are tangled and mishandled Formed by the folks present in the society Accept it, alleged or not we are in distraught As we are the victim and yet we have the “X” spot Engraved in our bodies as a sign of fluster Sooner or later, we’ll not be any calmer Since the blame, nevertheless, will be more than an iota or a jot The victim, I am It is I who will get blamed For what I have done 15

ANG LANGIT KO’Y IMPYERNO NG IBA Tambay sa silid-aralan. Ilang oras na akong nililibang ng mga dumaraan sa pasilyo habang tulala at nakikipaglaro sa guni-guni. Hindi ko na namalayan ang oras. Malapit na palang matapos ang klase. Sa halip na umuwi, pinili kong magpalipas ng oras sa silid- aklatan, tahimik at payapa. Nagliligpit na ako ng mga gamit ko at naghahanda ng lumabas para pumunta sa library nang kinulbit ako ng kaklase ko kaya naman tinignan ko siya at binigyan ng nagtatanong na ekspresyon. “Kamusta yung grades mo? Ayos ba?” nakangiti niyang wika sa akin. Dinala ako ng kaniyang tanong sa nakaraan. Biyernes ng gabi, huling araw ng klase. Nagmamadali akong umuwi sa bahay. Kagalakan na may halong takot ang aking kailangang harapin. Ngayon ang bigayan ng marka ng unang semestro. Hindi pa yata ako handa. Pagkababa ko ng traysikel ay kaagad kong tinakbo ang pinto ng bahay, rumaragasa ang aking pagdating. Dali-dali kong pinunta ang kusina. Natagpuan ko si inay na naghahanda ng hapagkainan. Nagmano ako sa kanila at hindi pa man nakakapagpalit ng damit pambahay ay umupo na ako sa upuan. Habang nililipad ng aking inaasahang mangyari ay abot tenga ang aking ngiti habang binibigay ang papel na pinaglagdaan ng aking marka. “Ma, Pa, I have good news!” masayang bati ko sa kanila. “What is it?” tanong ni papa. “Binigay na po sa’min ang grades namin for the 1st sem!” tuwang-tuwa kong tugon sa kanya at ibinigay sa kanya ang card ko. Nakangiti itong kinuha ng papa ko at tinignan ng mabuti. Tatlong minuto. Tatlong minuto niya itong tinitigan at lalong dumidilim ang kaniyang mata sa bawat minutong lumilipas. Nagulat ako nang ang kanyang ngiti ay napalitan ng simangot at ang kilay niya ay nagsalubong. Hinagis niya ang aking marka at hinampas niya ang lamesa. “Anong klaseng grade ‘to?!” sinigawan niya ‘ko. “88? Really? Masaya ka na sa general average na 88?!” dugtong niya pa. “Pero pa, aren’t you happy? Nakapasa po ako,” nanghihina kong sagot sa kanya. 16

Tumayo siya, kinuha ang aking marka at hinambalos sa aking mukha. Paulit-ulit niyang dinuro ang aking noo. “I’d be happy if your grade is 95 and above!” sabi niya at bumalik din kaagad sa kinauupuan niya. “Disappointment.” iiling-iling na bulong ni mama. Napabalik ako sa kasalukyan nang marahan akong tinapik ng kaklase ko sa balikat. “Ah, ayos lang naman,” tugon ko sa tanong niya at kumaripas ng takbo. Hindi ko na siya kinausap ulit. 17



WILDFLOWER A flower bloomed welcoming the spring Lifting its face up to ye society Entice those who wandered and journeying Above the dry land,there it can be seen Time flown by and many wanted to pick Gracefully dancing along with the breeze Aesthetically astounding but sick People’s confidence now, yes, had been seized Ignorance! Not all that glitters are gWWold The flower then withered and scattered Interests faded but few choose to hold Shan’t they be trusted for they were once erred? The spring will come to bring you back later You will arise my little wildflower 19



WE CHOOSE WHAT WE SEE Walking down the barren street, seeking for a device that’s weary As you pass a lonesome road and think, “what a heavy load” You cover yourself from the upcoming storm and stop a bit into the shades Aggravated by the weight of things, you didn’t notice a kid He looked distraught, as you passed him by A weird storm would soon arrive for the kid with lonesome thoughts Time and time people passed the kid until his fingers lost the count Until the kid sought to climb unto the path he should not carve There I was looking down, down the road I was before The kid had waited for the time…that someone would entice his joy But alas the night grew deep and it would grow the storm that brought a bear to thou You stood still in fear of the thought that the storm would take you too You return into your safe abode but at what lingering cost? You didn’t stop…the storm that night And you hid behind your conclusion that I wasn’t there and I saw no bear. 21

DREAM STATE REALITY

Pagmulat, kisame. Nakita ko na naman ang matalik kong kaibigang nakikita ko lamang kapag nagigising ako sa tamang parte ng higaan. Pagbangon, sahig. Malamig ang sahig ngunit wala nang mas lalamig pa sa hangin ni Disyembre na nagpupumilit lumusot sa pagitan ng mga hibla ng panlamig kong mga damit ngunit hindi ko muna siya kilala ngayon. Mas binigyan ko ng pansin ang kaaway nitong nasa isang tasa, mainit at mapagmahal. Kape, isang kaibigang laging maaasahan. “Uy, gising ka na pala,” bati sa akin ng boses sa aking utak na bawat oras ay nagbabadyang sumabog sa iba’t-iba pang bagay na mas sasama pa sa kaniya. Ngunit pawang hindi ngayon, salamat. Umaasang aayon sa magandang daloy ang iba pang parte ng araw na ito, lumabas ako ng bahay gamit ang sapatos kong pamasok, ang paborito kong suot pangginaw, at isang kalasag na inaasahan kong poprotekta sa agos na ito. Sana. Naglalakad, tukoy ang patutunguhan. Sigurado ang bawat hakbang patungo sa paaralan, walang pahiwatig ng alinlangan. “Magandang umaga, mga Lasalyano!” Bati ng mga tagapagsalita tuwing umaga kasabay ng agad na pagsunod ng pagkanta ng usapang pang-umaga ng aking mga kapwa estudyante. Nasa ayos ang lahat, nakakapanibago, nakapagtataka. Tapos na ang klase ngunit pawang hindi pa rin natatapos at nauubos ang suwerte, o kung ano mang naisip na dumapo sa akin sa araw na ito. Lubos akong nagagalak ngunit lubos ring nilalamig ang mga paa. Hindi ko ba alam kung dala ito ng kaba o ang lamig ng gabi. Gabi na nga pala. Hindi ko alam kung bakit. Bakit natagpuan ko ang sarili kong naglalakad pabalik ng paaralan. Pasilyo. Nasa pasilyo ako. Bakit ako nasa pasilyo. Kalsada. Pasilyo. “Magandang umaga, mga Lasalyano!” Bati ng mga tagapagsalita tuwing umaga. “Magandang umaga, sa’yo,” ang sabay-sabay na bulong sa akin ng mga boses ng mga mukhang nakikita ko sa araw-araw. Hindi ko alam kung bakit pero naramdaman ko na lamang na bumilis ang tibok ng puso ko. Halhal. Pawis na pawis. Tumatakbo ako sa pasilyong hindi ko na kilala o kaya pang kilalanin. Nakatatakot tumakbo pero mas nakatatakot lumingon. Hindi ako lumingon. Hindi ko ata kayang kilalanin ang mga humahabol sa akin kasi baka hindi lamang sila ang makilala ko. Baka pati ako. Takot ako sa kanila pero mas takot ako sa kinahinatnan ng sarili ko. Nakatatakot tumakbo nang walang dahilan ngunit mas nakatatakot yatang tumakbo nang kilala mo kung sino ang tinatakbuhan mo. “Magandang umaga, mga Lasalyano!!” Pasilyo. Kalsada. Kisame, pagmulat. Nakita ko na naman ang kaibigan kong matalik, hindi dahil sa nagkakasundo kami kundi dahil ayaw niya akong lubayan. Sa kamang ito walang tama o maling parte. Mayroon lamang itong bulag na hindi makatulog dahil ang tanging nakikita ay ang solusyong nais niyang makamit ngunit hindi kaya. Isang ignoranteng naninirahan sa panaginip kung saan siya ay ligtas. “Gising na,” bati ng boses sa aking utak na ilang taon nang nagmumulto’t sumasabog. Pagbangon, realidad. 23



LEADER BOSS: The Tale of Two Alphas In the busy and roaring plains of Tanzania, two prides of lions come into a hunting duel every full moon. The winners of the said duel are entitled to hunt anytime of the day in the vast wilderness for the next few weeks while the losers are subject to hunt only at midnight. Both these congregations are led by their respective Alphas who are actually brothers in blood. The Northern pride boasts of their high speed in killing their prey while the Southern pride enjoys the luxury of having a bigger number of cats. In the past years, no one has really won their hunting duels for both the prides end up having up a stalemate in catching the very elusive African buffalo. In broad daylight, days before the full moon, the Northern Alpha trains his fellow lions by teaching them the necessary how’s in catching their prey. He allows them to experience new methods for improved hunting movements but he blames and punishes those who commit mistakes. One time, he purposely attacked a female lion who messed up a single kill of a young capybara. Meanwhile in the rugged terrains of the Southern pride, the Southern Alpha relaxes between the rocks as he eats a big chunk of zebra meat just for himself. He is characterized by being kind to the lions who work hard and follow his commands. However, as his pride is very large and as he fears being dethroned, he exerts dominance by intimidating and taking advantage of his lions, telling them to get things done. On the other hand, the herd of buffalos prepare themselves as they travel and feed together. Surprisingly, they have a communal behavior that is not affected by the dominance hierarchy. They appear to “vote” into which direction to move the herd by sitting on the ground facing the direction they think the herd should move. Afterwards, the herd led by the old males charge towards the direction majority is pointing by signaling low pitched sounds for the herd to move in. The females are even assigned on the lookout for visible threats by making long rumbling grunts that signal that predators are approaching. The cycle continues leading up to the night of the full moon. The two prides meet in roaring aggression as the two Alphas growl to start the hunting duel. Six against eight. Who will win? Would there even be a winner? The sun is already approaching, to the dismay of the lions – the African buffalos have won again. 25



LACK OF POLITICAL STAND “I’m too young to contribute to those kinds of things,” said 17 million children. “We really can’t do anything about it,” said 10 million teenagers. “Let someone else handle the situation,” said 19 million adults. “I’m only one person. Whatever I do or decide won’t make a difference,” said 106 million Filipinos. 27



BAR EXAM 2028 Witching Hour. You wake up three in the morning ready to fulfill your dream of a lifetime - taking (and, of course, passing) the prestigious Philippine Bar Examinations. You go out of your bed, already imagining having a nameplate in your own office in Bonifacio Global City saying “ Atty. Confi Dente C. Akho ” You prepare an omelet paired with your favorite garlic flavored longganisang Lucban. Stomach full, you take a bath whilst listening to the hottest song available on Spotify. Exuberant as you are, it only took you three minutes in the bathroom as you head towards preparing a semi-formal attire for later’s exam. Taking a train towards the testing center, you proudly recalled your achievements one by one. Editor-in-Chief. Class Valedictorian. 5 time Academic Varsity. Best Debater. Best Oral Presentor. Up until it all became a blur when a young stranger with nerdy glasses and curly native hair accidentally fell into your knees. “I’m so sorry, I fell asleep,” the native immediately said as he stood looking embarrassed in front of the multitude of crowd inside the train. “I studied all night whilst travelling towards here. I’m from Tuguegarao City in the North.” Looking intently at his polo with an embroidered GdC nameplate on it, you said in confidence, “There’s no need to study. I personally think that the low passing scores and poor performances in the Bar Exams are just because many aren’t born with enough privileges and talents they are supposed to have. ” The Tuguegarao native answered, “How can you be so sure?” Gazing a smile on your face, you uttered in a rather assertive tone, “Ever since I was a child, I had the luxury of talents: I excelled in almost all the aspects you could imagine - both in oral and in writing. It continued up until college as I graduated Summa Cum Laude in UP”. In awe, the native stayed quiet for a good ten seconds, “I may never had the luxury you did, nor the same degree of achievements you have accomplished but I know to myself that I was honed to be where I am now.” You just smiled in amusement, thinking to yourself - “He’s just humble bragging, he might not even have the confidence I have because I worked hard for mine. I earned it.” 29

Few months later, the night before the announcement of the qualified lawyers, you drank yourself to the brink. “Cheers to me becoming the future Attty. Confi Dhente. I’m pretty sure I’ll be the bar topnotcher! I didn’t even sweat!” Your friend said in a disgusted tone, “The passing rate is a little bit under 30% and even my cousin in UST who is a Cum Laude graduate took 3 tries to finally secure his coveted ‘attorney,’ don’t be totally ignorant else you’ll be...” “Sh*t, the results are in!” you said anxiously. A few moments later, you shouted, “I passed!” Then, someone reread the email coming from the Bar Council of the Philippines, “Good day, congratulations for making it to the next stage of your career. You’re officially a certified topnotch lawyer! Your nameplate, ‘Atty. Gregorio del Castillo’ will be delivered to you the soonest! God bless!” “Confi, I didn’t know you changed names, did you?” your friend asked. “What are you talking about? My name is my name, nothing else and surely nothing more,” you replied in a peculiar way. “It says here, you are Atty. Gregorio del Castillo.” “Who?” “Atty. Gregorio del Castillo” Observant as you are, you wonder whether you might have seen that name coming from somewhere, sometime a few months ago. Up until, you recalled the train incident as if everything turned from blurr to light. GdC “The initials embroidered in the polo of the native, I met months ago!” 30

MUTED Can everyone stop? Just stop. Nothing is astounding about a world breaking itself, about a world that shatters. All we are are just tiny specks of negligible dust coexisting on a neglectful multiverse which does not care, yet we believe that we are made to marshal life. Dare say how perfectly synthesized every cell in the human body is to compose tissues, ligaments that break easily. We are not designed in the best way we could possibly be, what if I told you that the ligaments of the hand can break with just one wrong finger snap? That it can cause your stupidity hundreds of thousands of pesos to fix your frail form just so you can return to your feeble body? --disappointing, isn’t it? Admit it. He could’ve done better. So stop being dumbfounded by how life works because I… I hate it. Everything about this lifeform is mediocre compared to other preexisting organic molecules having the lifespan of millions and billions of years. Yet here we are, existing as people who live to tire, who work to eat, who sleep to awaken, we are nothing but lifeforms stuck on a program in an infinite loop until we can no longer deliver. So I despise how the sun can rise and set without tiring. I envy how the moon can remain airborne even when not one-person bequeaths attention. I loathe stars which shine brightly even more so during their darkest moments. How can they continue to play their part consistently even when the world crumbles on the hands of the war freaks? But the truth is… I hate myself more than everything I loathe combined. I hate the fact that I was born without consent. I don’t like how I was technically brainwashed unto a belief I was never allowed to question, that I was born unto a family who would never learn to love me in the first place. I am frustrated that I am merely a being whose mediocracy of his form equates to his function- I am not relevant to other people. I am not in demand and I don’t have anything on me that people need. Therefore, I don’t have any friends. Yet here I am, no matter how much the distaste, I am still alive and kicking. It is the first day of school, and the things that I have mentioned are still apparent and off-putting. The thing is, I could not bring myself to speak of these words outside my head because if I did, I am certain that I will be branded as a psycho, heartless and ungrateful child. Just the thought of keeping everything to yourself is exasperating. It is more than enough to actually kill a person. Art is meant to disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturb, but what happens if you are the disturbed and the comfortable and you happen to be the artist as well? That’s right, you play yourself. So in circles and in circles you go, disturbing and comforting yourself out of your own comfort and misery and you will 31

never know what being at peace feels like. So sooner or later, you might even end up killing yourself. Who knows? Maybe that person will be me. No one will ever notice. Haha. In denial again, aren’t you? Pathetic. Okay, then answer this. Almost every class has a classmate who is as silent as the peaceful night sky, so tell me, has their absence ever meant anything to the silence you enjoy? Do you even realize that they’re absent in the first place? Admit it. You don’t acknowledge exclusion. The room would stay silent even without the silent, but the room would never be silent even when only one of the loud ones are around. So by that, I believe that I am someone you can call a “mute.” I am not vocally impaired, but call myself that because I do not say much. I try my best to keep mouth shut because I found that it is the easiest and least way not to shed any effort towards anything. I am tired as it is, and I tire more when I have to explain myself for whatever reason. “Ms. De Silva, please introduce yourself.” The teacher gestured to her side as a cue for me to introduce myself while facing every single person part of my hate list. I could hear murmurs. Someone even dared to say, “But she’s a mute, Miss.” The normies are at it again: telling other people what to feel and labelling other people they do not even know how to understand. Well, just how damned can the world be? The teacher silenced him, and I was gestured once more to begin. I walked on the platform eyes flat on the ground, it stayed that way even as I arrived on the space I was meant to introduce myself on. Then I patiently waited for my cue, I waited until every last eye had their gaze stuck at the sight of me. And so I begun: “Hi. I am Cashandra Katherine De Silva.” My voice kind of wowed everyone because it is quite deep and low. It was unique; I admit that, but for that characteristic, I was bullied. I guess you may have figured that out already. But all else changed when I spoke and they knew that I could speak, that I will be silenced by no one. So for once, I became on trend. Damn right. Apparently, I belong now. Who knew things would change in a blink of an eye? Who knew that this Cashandra would transform into someone whom she never thought would exist in her? 32

SA PAGITAN NG MGA TUGMA Minahal ko ang pagsulat sa paraang di ko kayang mahalin ang sarili ko Minahal ko ang pagsulat sa paraang di ako kayang mahalin ng ibang tao Minahal ko ang pagsulat sa paraang di ako kayang mahalin ng mga mahal ko Minahal ko ang pagsulat kaya, Nay, pakinggan mo ako Samahan mo ako sa aking paglalakbay sa anyo ng pagsulat Kilalanin ang aking sarili sa balangkas at tugma kung saan ako namulat Kung saan ang bawat padamdam ay indikasyon ng kanilang pagkamuhi Ang kaibahan sa kanila ang nagsisilbing sanhi Ilang beses akong lumingon, umahon, lumingon, umahon, bumangon Nadapa sa paulit-ulit na pagtataka Tinanong ko si Nanay, “Bakit di ako katulad ng iba?” Inay, ilang mata pa ba ang susuri sa akin para malaman kung ako ba ay kabilang sa kanila? Pitong taong gulang,namulat ako kung paano bumangon sa bawat pagkakadapa Ginawa kong tahanan ang lupa dahil sabi nila di raw tayo tinitingala Nay, nakita ko ang yaman nila, nababalot sila sa ginto Nay, tinitigan ko ang sarili ko, niyayapos lamang tayo ng lata at kaunting tanso Labindalawang taong gulang, sinubukan kong humanap ng masasandalan Tinanggihan nila ako dahil may mali raw sa kurba ng aking katawan Nay, bakit sabi mo maganda ang hugis ng aking mga laman Nay, mataba raw ako ayaw nila akong maging kaibigan Labing-apat na taong gulang, pilit akong naghahanap ng lunas mula sa dinulot ng lumbay Pumasok ako sa eskwelahan sa pag-asang may dadamay Pero, Nay, nakita ko ang sarili kong umuuwi na lamang lagi sa bahay Pinapahid ang luha mula sa sakit ng panlalait kung saan nila ako sinanay Labing-anim na taong gulang, malapit na tayo sa dulo ng paglalakbay Siguro ay nagtataka ka kung anong kinalaman ng pagsulat sa aking buhay Nay, minahal ko ang bawat titik dahil kailanman ay hindi ito nanukat sa kamay na huhulma sa kanya Nay, tahanan ko ang aking mga panitik mula sa mga taong hindi man lang ako kinilala 33



PILING IGNORANTE Taong 5050, panahon ng tag-gutom, malamang mamamatay na kaming lahat na magkakapiling. Lahat kami’y nasa isang kampo lamang sapagkat kakaunti na kami- isang kumpol ng mga walang pag-asang nilalang na naghihintay na lamang sa kamatayan. Ewan ko ba sa mundong ito. Kung hindi bahang-baha, tuyong-tuyo naman; at sino ang nagbabayad? Mga tao. Pantay lamang siguro kasi kaming mga tao rin ang tindero nito. Gutom na gutom, buto’t balat at pati sa luha’y salat. Bawat segundo’y humingi ng tulong pero wala tayong magagawa kung ang dating mga namimigay nito’y nasa ilalim na ng mga paa natin. Grabe ang hirap ng buhay. Nakapanlulumo. Dahil nga sa kakulangan sa lahat, lumabas ako upang makahanap ng kahit ano at kahit alam kong bawal, ay lumagpas ako sa paligid ng kampo. Hindi ko alam kung bakit kakaunti lamang ang gumagawa ng ginagawa ko ngayon kung wala namang tagabantay ang kampo. Walang tagabantay dahil ang natira na lamang sa kanila ay ang kanilang mga bota’t baril. Ito ako, lumalanghap ng hanging hindi na siguro mabuti sa aking mga baga, tumutungtong sa lupang sa tingin ko’y kasing iga na ng aking mga labi. Ito ako, lantad sa lahat at sa wala. Nakakita ako ng mga sasakyan. Nandirito na sa aming kampo ang mga nagbibigay pagkain at tubig. Alam kong sa oras na ito ay dapat akong magpasalamat. Ngunit may kakaiba. Nangangatal ang mga labi ko noong bumalik ako sa karamihan. Para raw akong nakakita ng taong buhay at malusog dahil sa panahong ito mas nakagigimbal pa ang makakita ng ganito kaysa multo. Sabi ko naman, “Hindi ho. Kabaliktaran.” Pinapanood ko lamang silang pumila para sa kanilang rasyon ng pagkain at tubig para sa araw na ito. Ito ako nanonood lamang at hinahayaang mangyari ang mga pangyayari. Siguro nga dahil walang wala na ang sangkatauhan. Siguro nga dahil alam nilang hindi na tutubo pa ang mga hinihintay naming tutubo. Alam kaya ng mga kasamahan ko na ang kinakain nilang karne ay ang karne ng mga kakilala namin dati? Siguro hindi pero ako oo. Nakita ko ngunit pipiliin ko na lang maging ignorante. Para saan pa ang pagiging tagahawak ng alam kung mamamatay naman ang mga natatanging buhay sa harap mo sa oras na bitawan mo ito? Kaunting patay lang ‘yang pumapasok sa katawan namin. Mas maraming patay ang mga nasa paligid kaya naman bakit pa? Bakit pa ako manlalaban kung sa ikabubuti naman ito ng lahat? Nakadidiring kumain ng kapwa subalit mas nakadidiring manahimik. Ngunit mas pipiliin kong maging buhay kahit tahimik. Kahit nakasusuklam. Sa panahong wala ka nang mabibitawan pa, maghanap ka ng bagong makakapitan. Minsan kasi kasama sa mga pagpipilian ang pagiging ignorante’t hangal. Nakatatakot lamang piliin. Piling ignorante sa piling ng mga ignorante. 35

welcome home

ANG MANSYON Sa bawat pagtakbo ng oras hinihintay ko ang oras ng paghinto ng pagtigil ng kibo. Sa bawat galaw ng araw darating kaya ang araw na ito’y mananawang lumiwanag, mananawang suminag? Sa bawat gabing lumipas ay iba’t-ibang mukha ng buwan ang sinasandalan ng mga problema kong di kumukupas. “Umalis ka na,” ang payo nila sapagkat bawat oras ng aking pagtigil sa mundong mapang-siil ay ang pagbaon sa akin sa ilalim ng pundasyon nitong mansyon. Ang mansyon ay kasing lawak ng hawak nilang higpit, ng mga kamaong yumuyupi, ng palad na nananakit. Ang mansyon ay kasing tahimik ng ingay ng kanilang mga imik. Sa mansyong ito hindi nila alam ang pagkakaiba ang paghihintay matuyo at pagpunas ng umaagos na luha kaya walang magbabago. Sa mansyong ito mas nirerespeto ang sampal kaysa mano. 37

Inhale. Exhale. It’s a miracle you can still breath. My truth has left you bruised and scarred, it seems. I could have strangled, tightened my grip till you cease to exist but where’s the fun in that, yeah? You need to feel it. This is the part where I throw you among a pack of wolves except that it’s the pain devouring on you. They’ll feed on you. They’ll gnaw every flesh of your body, hungrily consuming you until you feel no longer more. You’ll succumb to the agony. You’ll grow numb. You’ll grow tired. The sun will continue to rise and set each day. The moon will carry on with its eight phases. Earth will keep on orbiting around the sun. You will stall. You will see no progress for yourself. Poor you.

Complacency an eleven-letter condition of deliberate disregard



SA PAANAN NG BUNDOK Malamig Malungkot Nakatatakot Malamig ang panahon lalo’t kung ang daa’y paahon, taliwas sa alon. Pabugso-bugso ang ilaw sa itaas Nakawiwindang ang bakas at talas ng mga awitin ng mayang alpas, patuloy ang sipol ng hangin at mga ibon. Dito na lamang ako Sa baba kasama ng napakong pangako at hindi pagtaas sa pinaka-itaas ng bundok ng pangakong pag-ako sa hindi tiyak na mayroo’t wala Hindi ako aakyat sa bundok at bituin kasi tangina, malamig kasi tangina, malungkot kasi tangina, nakatatakot Dito na lamang ako sa paanan ng bundok. 41

MY WORLD Look up here, man. I’m in heaven. I’m satisfied with the way things are right now. I got everything a man could ask for: A complete family (even if that family doesn’t know who I am behind my disguise) A circle of close friends ( even if a deep seated but hidden feeling of isolation permeates whenever I’m with them) A good education in a good school, enjoying a supposed good academic performance (even if the sweat, toil and eye bags tell the true story) A mind capable enough to learn and understand skills and facts about everything around us (even if that very mind is the catalyst of my self-destruction) A life blessed with fortune and luck that others weren’t fortunate enough to receive (even if my stage at 3am would tell you otherwise) Why would I be enamored to change things now when change itself is unpredictable and could take away everything that is good in my world? Why bother to pop open my bubble when I am comfortable with it, whatever it may be inside my bubble? To put things into perspective… I’m so infatuated with how my world is right now—even if that world is a living Armageddon. 42