Friday, June 23, 2006

On loneliness...

I’ve been quite the busy person lately. I’ve been catching up with old friends, making some new ones, busying myself with school responsibilities, etc. I’ve also tried to start writing again, which unfortunately becomes increasingly difficult for me.

But with all the stuff that has been going on, there is one important thing that I cannot shake off. Its one thing to be bored, but it’s another thing to be lonely. I am mentioning this because there are times, when I am alone in my room, sometimes with my guitar, when I find myself experiencing unspeakable loneliness.

It is scary because the feeling is so overwhelming. It is scary because I cannot escape it. It is scary because it feels so absolute, like it can swallow me whole and destroy my very being. I hate it when I am reminded of how empty and hollow my heart really is; of how I have reduced my feelings to logical analyses and not as feeling to be really felt and not to be analyzed and dissected like a logician’s argumentative toy.

My soul is weeping because of the realization that maybe, I cannot really feel anything. Maybe I don’t really know how to love. Maybe I’ve become so much of a dreamer that I have reduced the ______ feeling of love into an idea so removed from my mind, so utterly abstracted by my overzealous brain that it has lost its entire meaning for me.

Is it my fault finally because I dream too much? Will I never be satisfied? Will I never be really, truly happy? How can I know?

I don’t think I ever felt true happiness before.

last night...a diatribe...

And so he strikes again: boasting about his so called toughness and declaring the root cause of every suffering that we experience, demanding audience with the tormentor, bringing nothing but a piece of wood. Like the cavemen of old, banging on the skulls of their enemies as they continue to become more and more inebriated. What have you brought back with you? What have you gained in the mountains? Have you become as primitive as the people you have lived with for so short a time?

It is the curse of simplicity. When problems get too complicated, the simple man turns to simple means, not understanding the complexity of the consequence of his actions. And what of the people who get affected? What of the people who cannot do anything but stand and watch as the cavemen bare their testicles and brandish their wooden clubs? Maybe this is the cause of all violence. When a man becomes threatened, he turns to the only thing he can: his balls, and his wooden club.

How many times have I seen it? The uncontrollable wrath of the drunkard is as dangerous as swimming wounded in the sea with sharks. He cannot understand anything else aside from his instinct. Confrontation is his only option because he cannot solve the real problems. He can only be the simpleton again. He is powerless and he knows it. Yet his pride gets the better of him. Drink fool. Drink the potion of our doom. For it is not you alone that you are damning with your foolishness. You are damning us all.

Death is the end of all fear.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Recognition Day

Hello there boys and girls....

Finally, the first day of classes has arrived. And keeping with Kalayaan College tradition, we had our annual recognition day and freshman orientation. For the first time in 4 years, I was asked to give the student response in front of the student body and the freshmen. I just want to share with you the speech that I did yesterday. I hope you like it.

Fellow students, beloved officers, members of faculty and staff, and all those present today, a good morning to you all. When I received the call last Friday that I was to speak before you today, I thought to myself, "What in the world am I going to say to these people?" I sat on my bed and stared off into space and nothing was coming out. So I thought about what it is that makes this year so special to me. What makes it different from all the other years that I have been in this place? And I remembered. I remembered that if all goes well, my friends and I will be graduating at the end of this academic year. So what?

So what, when thousands of other students will be graduating at the end of this year? When many will be receiving awards until they are neck deep in it? When many thousands still will not even get a job at the end of it all? Now we get to a poit when we ask, "What is the point?" Why do we continue on this arduous journey called college? What are you, the ones that are just beginning their journey, getting yourselves into? Why do those who still have a year or two left keep continuing to struggle to get to their final years and graduate? Why do we all strive to finish something that does not even guarantee our futures?

The answer my friends, is simple. So simple that it borders on the ridiculous. The answer is that all of us, no matter how we deny it, want to make something of ourselves. That by entering into the halls of higher learning, we hope that we do learn something, enough to be used for the betterment of our lives. But more importantly, we do this because we believe. We believe that if we enter these hallowed grounds, guarantee or no, we will gain something of value. And it doesn't matter if we learn it inside the classroom or outside of it, whether we learn it from our professors, or our friends, or even our enemies. What matters is that we are not imprisoned in the mediocrity that will result in us not even attempting to receive what they so fondly call "higher education."

And I believe this to be true. I believe this in my heart. And whether or not you believe in it as I do, this is the truth that I have found in myself since I first entered this very place. But don't take my word for it. Find your own truths. Find your own foundations for what you believe is true. For as Goethe said, "
The first and last thing required of genius is truth." And we don't all have to become geniuses but if we are on the path of truth, the we are at least, going in the right direction.

And now I shall do as others before me have done, and many others after me will. I welcome you to this place that we have grown to know and love. Welcome to another year at Kalayaan College. Thank you and good morning.

Friday, June 09, 2006

The Last Beginning

Hello boys and girls...

It is again time for another fun-filled year of college. Depending on one's point of view, it can be sad or exhilirating. Sad because summer and the endless beach hopping is finally over, and exhilirating because friends who have not been seen for months will again be found. For me, it is neither. Because it is hopefully my last year, I feel very anxious. Yes boys and girls, anxious. Why you may ask? Well for starters, we're gonna be handled by one of the most feared professors in our course. And its not gonna be one subject, but two. Also, our recurring nightmare of an economics professor, who by the way has consistently given me grades not higher than 2, is back in action.

For those of you who don't know, I'm sort of in the running for magna cum laude this year. And for those of you who might have an idea of the situation I am in right now, that title seems to drift further and further away from my grasp as the academic year draws frightfully near its beginning. Those two professors that I have just mentioned have in their power to lower my grades to an extent that I may barely get a cum laude. Its that scary.

Very few have been able to pass, yet much fewer have been able to get even a semblance of a high grade. As for me... well... we just have to find out don't we?

For now, I tremble and sweat in my sleep. For now, I dread the coming of the new semester. But with usual David fashion, I'll just hike my shoulders and trudge on...

So until the day finally comes to meet the architects of my doom...

I'll just lay down and enjoy what little time for sleep I have left...

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

For my sister...

Happy Birthday sis... love you... for real... I can't really say it to your face, but there you go...

Sunday, June 04, 2006

Singing with your heart...

Hello here boys and girls...

Yesterday, me and my classmates went to the Nazareth Home for Single Mothers. We went there for our CWTS class and it was the second to the last activity that we did for the summer. It was also the most meaningful one that we did. For me anyways...

The day started off pretty dull. We went to the assigned meeting place at 8am and went to fetch the "single mothers" so that we could go on a mini road trip. It was what our professor suggested that we do because most of the clients of the home don't get the chance to go out much. It didn't seem like a worthwhile idea at the time, but we did it anyway.

Our first stop was our school, and as usual nobody was there except the guard and the custodian. The school nurse was also there, apparently waiting for us so that she could join the trip and document it. I became a sort of spokesperson for our class, and I welcomed them to the college, apologizing that because it was too early, we couldn't bring them inside the mall. I suggested that we go to the riverside park instead, but the professor did not agree because the drivers of the vehicles that we rented were "in a hurry."

So thus ended our trip to the school. Then off we went and rode around Katipunan Avenue and I told them where the different other schools were. Then we went to our last destination, which was UP Diliman. We stopped at the Oblation, I gave them little bits of trivia and history about the place, and then we walked to the lagoon. It was supposed to be just a simple walk to see the sights. But oh what a sight it was! The guy who went up Mt. Everest, the Garduza guy, was there. He was doing a photo shoot/interview for GMA 7. And the moms were thrilled! We even had our pictures taken together with the guy and some even had asked for autographs.

I was thrilled, not because of seeing the "mountain man", but because of the looks on the faces of the girls as they had their pictures taken with a celebrity. They seemed really happy. It actually made me feel that the road trip had served its purpose in entertaining the clients of the Nazareth Home. Its not everyday you get to meet a guy who's climbed Mt. Everest, rarer still meeting only the third Filipino to accomplish the feat.

Then we returned to the Home for a short programme, where I was due to play some music for the single moms. Before we did that, the social worker decided to give us a bit of a tour of the place. Our first stop was the office. It was then that she discussed in detail the situation of the single mothers in the Home. Young and old, they came and went. The abandoned, the rape victims, the runaways, they all came to the Nazareth Home. They were of all ages, from the very young to the older ones. The youngest was 13 years old, raped by her own father and left at the home by her own mother, the oldest was 33, blind and raped by an unknown assailant. Most of them raped, or left by their boyfriends only to be turned away by their families, shocked to find the unbearable truth.

I was in pain. When I learned about the things that they went through, what was in store for them, how they endured what they endured, I felt small. I wanted to cry.

I couldn't focus on anything else after that. We went on with the tour, but I wasn't listening anymore. All I could think about was the sadness that they must have endured and are enduring, despite the smiles on their young and innocent faces. I was so distracted that I couldn't play the songs properly, resulting in an almost horrendous group song. When it was the girls' turn to perform, I felt guilty that we had given them such a crass performance. It was then that a classmate of mine suggested to me that I should play again, just to give them something worthy of their time. So I did.

I went forward, guitar in hand, trembling with nerves, and told them what I was going to play. It was a song that I have never played in front of anyone before. It was a song that I wrote. I told them that it was a song of love, and of hope. And before I played, I told them that even if there was nothing else, it is important to always have hope.

I played and sang with all my heart.

I sang for the hope that maybe my song would, even for a short while, make them have hope again. And you know what? I think it did.

I still cannot forget the looks on their faces after that. It was like for one moment, all of us were connected in one fervent prayer that their children, born or yet unborn, would have better futures than themselves.

The trip made me realize how really lucky I still am. How lucky we all are, that no matter what has happened to us in the past, we do not have to endure such pain.