Apostrophe 99

Duterte's administration thrives on two things - misplaced adoration and fear.

The continuous portrayal of the Police as the corrupt government's dog is feeding the latter.

When an idea is constantly fed and told, it becomes a reality.

When the media started televising the brutal images of the dead bodies of the victims of the extra judicial killings, the nation was in shock. People were disgusted and many wanted to fight.

However, over time, the people we’re somewhat forced to accept that it is a reality - something that is just out of the usual. The Filipino nation was desensitized.

When Ang Probinsyano, in its primary years, portrayed too many cops to be corrupt, people were hooked. They were rooting for Cardo Dalisay - the good cop. But when the amount of films that portrayed cops as usually bad, people no longer cheered for the good ones but rather feared the whole institution in general.

Fearing the one’s who are supposed to help us exercise the justice that we deserve only gives power to those who break them. 

When you give people the notion that these dictators are untouchables because the police are under the corrupt government and serve the corrupt government alone, you urge the people not to fight but to fear.

The last thing a dictator wants is to have his people together rallying against him. To have them fight with each other is the optimum plan.

Men versus Women...no.

Women and Men.

There’s no versus, there is no battle, there’s no price to win over.

Just a usual non sexist completely gender neutral label for God’s two creation.

Yes.

A woman can do things a man can do.

We’ve seen them drive buses and trains, hold hammers and chains,

We’ve seen them fight fire without fear, design buildings as engineers,

They know how to use jackhammers and saws, treat diseases like a boss,

They can sail out to sea, or collect taxes and fees,

They can handle a big ass butcher knives, and even took for themselves wives

A woman can do what a man can do, and a woman can do a lot.

But see, there are certain things a woman simply can’t do that a man can do

However, is this really gender equality?

Why do women have to make men see that they can do what men can do?

We don’t have to compare, coz really, who the heck cares,

Equality is having the freedom to do anything without having anyone telling you “THAT’S NOTHING” or that “YOU CAN’T”

I once read, women have been trying to be men that they forgot to be themselves.

Can’t we remove the versus without sacrificing what we are?

Just be yourself.

How do we define Filipino identity?

From the international stage of competitions to the very inside of the country, there has always been conflict and debate as to who are the Filipinos and how do we identify them.

The dictionary definition of a Filipino is "a native or national of the Philippines, or a person of Filipino descent".

However, i believe that there is much more to it than pure blood and biology - the feeling of belonging.

Take for example Catriona Gray. While she was born and raised in Australia, she ultimately chose to represent the Philippines in the international pageant. Her reason being that she found herself when she moved to the country and immersed herself with its people. With that, people identified her as a Filipino.

But you see, this issue doesn't simply involve the people who are half, or the people that consider themselves Filipino by heart but also those who are full blooded Filipinos but do not feel like one.

Our Muslims and Islamic brothers and Sisters have struggled with this so called Filipino Identity as early as the Spanish colonization.

Yes, by paper and by territory, the people of Mindanao are deemed to be Filipinos. But see, how can we force them to be one if they do not even feel like they belong? If they do not have the same concept of nationality as to what Filipino Nationality is taught inside the classrooms and the textbooks?

People do not often realize this but the concept of identity surpasses that of nationality.

.

.

was.

I closed my eyes and breathed. for the past three months, I've never felt so at peace.

"You need help?”

i was startled by a woman's voice and almost slipped into the edge.

"whoa, sorry" she chuckled.

when i looked up, the first thing i noticed was the color of her hair.

I expected her to rush into me and pull me back to the ground but to my surprise, she sat beside me, a meter apart.

"do you believe in fate?" she asked me while staring at the sunset

I was taken aback by her question.

three months ago, i was so certain of what i was going to do in my life, of every tomorrow that there is to come.

Three months later, after the car crash, i am not so certain anymore.

“It is believing that there is something that lies ahead”

"look, if you are trying to change my mind then I’m sorry but---"

"People always try to rush things."

"what?" i asked her, confused.

"death will come eventually, you know" she looked at me and smiled. For some reason, i was mesmerized by the way the sun reflected into her hair, as if they were threads of flames.

"let me make you a deal" she said.

"One more day and if you still want to pursue this flight, pun intended, then i wont stop you"

"why would i do that?"

"Well, for starters, what do you have to lose? and besides, think of at least one thing you'll miss"

i cant help nut smile at her, "sunsets"

she smiled back.

"one sunset it is. do you trust me"?

for some reason i don’t know, i nodded. for the first time in three months, after she's gone, i found myself looking forward to another sunset, of what lies ahead. she smiled and got off the edge. She reached out her hand to me

"i'm destiny"

somehow, her words lifted something heavy inside of me

Their breathing echoed in the room as they both gasped for air.

With her legs wrapped around his torso, she drew him closer as he collapsed above her.

She raked her fingers on his jet black hair as she tried to sync her breathing with his.

As he rolled over to her side, she rested her head on his chest and embraced him with his free arm.

She closed her eyes.

                                                  (image source)

Two months earlier, she had met him at a bar around Katipunan. Tipsy on plain old tequila, he was drawn to her sad, menacing eyes.

But she didn’t know that.

She took in the moment and found comfort in the fact that tonight, she didn’t need to be anybody but herself.

But he didn’t know that either, and she will make sure he wouldn’t.

She studied his face for a moment, tracing his eyebrows with her fingers as if memorizing him.  He was oblivious to this but all twenty-five years of her shook with desire for him. 

She chose to forget the fact that in a few hours, she would have to leave his apartment, go about her day as if nothing happened.

Two months earlier, she had met him at a bar around Katipunan.

She was desperate for money and was tipsy on plain old tequila.

“I can be anything you want”, she remembers telling him.

Two months later, she became someone she thought he would like.

Red skimpy dress, red lipstick, red pumps.

Two months earlier, he had met her at a bar around Katipunan.

And he was drawn to her sad, menacing eyes.

“I can be anything you want”, he remembers her saying.

He sighed.

It was 3 am when she entered the shop.

He was cleaning his iron when she walked up to him.

“I want you to fix me”, she said.

Taken aback by her request, he looked up.

Standing in front of her was a girl with jet black hair and skin as pale as snow.

She was wearing an oversize black sweater, black leggings, and some yellow converse.

Despite her clothes trying so hard to scream Gothic, he didn’t see her as that.

She looked…fragile, he thought.

“What?” he asked.

Hesitating for a second, she rolled up her sleeves that ended mid-palm and slowly walked closer to him.

She stared deeply into his eyes and that’s when he noticed that they were the color of the sky when it’s about to rain. For him, it was achingly beautiful.

He looked down on her wrist and saw scars so deep it looked like roots creeping into her skin.

He reached out his hand and gently traced them with his fingers.

She flinched at the contact and felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

He looked up to her and once again, he was drawn to her eyes.

It was right there and then that he knew she didn’t have to ask twice.

He smirked at her.

"What would you want to be when you grow up?”

As a child, answering that question came easy. “A lawyer”. i will often answer in a heartbeat.

Now, when the question is more imminent, “To remember being a child” is much more of a hope than an answer.

See, in a money driven power hungry world, to be an adult is like being the only clown fish in a sea of sharks - you don’t get to be in the top of the food chain unless you bite harder than the rest of them.

Scary, isn’t it.

But you see, “All grown-ups were once children... but only few of them remember it.” 

Amelie Poulain is the embodiment of a child in an adult’s body.

When everyone around her is concerned about their own adult problems - obsessive ex-boyfriends, rude boss, etc. - Amelie is the only one actually trying to do something about it.

With her quirky ways and childlike perspective of life, it is hard not to fall in love with her and her antics.

Most importantly, it only shows how  being a grown-up is a state of mind, not a fact of life. 

You can be an adult in years, but a child at heart.

There are certain points in our life when thinking like an adult will be grueling. 

Sometimes, being a clown fish in a sea of sharks is not all bad. 

To forget being a child is to lose something important - sense of imagination and empathy for others.

And when you lose it, 

Humans are programmed to fear something that threatens its survival.

Our ancestors feared the might and the darkness that comes with it. The storm and the unforgiving winds that it brings. The sea and the unmerciful waves that drowns everything in its path. We feared what we cannot control and chaos means just that - the confused unorganized state of primordial matter before the creation of distinct form.

Is this where the idea that chaos and destruction go hand in hand?

The laws governing Physics states that all the natural processes occur in such a way that the entropy of the universe increases.

So, what does it mean for to live in a world that is in constant chaos?

According to Colin Meloy, “Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.”

When man started to ride the waves, it gave us the power to conquer. When man started venturing the night, it stripped us our fear of the dark, and when man started dancing in the storm, it gave us the courage to face far greater things.

Fearing chaos imprisons us with the idea of control that it limits our potential to be something greater than ourselves.

To be afraid of chaos is to be afraid of change, of learning, and of venturing.

To not be afraid is to master the chaos in you and turn it into something beautiful.

(image source)

Life is a never ending world of chaos. Its drudgeries and burdens will break you. It’s just a matter of choice between standing up and remaining down for when chaos burns like wildfires around us, we have no other choice but to fall in love with its warmth for chaos is only understood when it is loved by the wild and not the weak.

Comfort.

It is a warm big sweater in the unforgiving month of November.

It is Hot cocoa when the skies decided to watch a walk to remember.

Halo halo when the sun decided that 45 degrees celsius just ain’t enough.

Even a tres if it meant passing math the second time around, that’s rough (hehe)

Comfort.

It is many things.

But it isn’t what defines greatness.

It is not chasing the white rabbit and following it down the hole.

It is not walking through the yellow brick road and meeting three new oddly relatable friends.

It is not attending the ball in a pumpkin courage even when it will just last until midnight.

It is not pursuing love and using fork as a comb even if it meant losing your voice.

It is cowardice.

It is settling for mediocrity .

“Well you couldn’t just keep your pants on, can’t you?!”

I heard my mother shout from what it looks to be the kitchen downstairs.

I was upstairs in my bedroom, blasting the radio in a desperate try not to hear them fighting again.

Tonight, fourth day in a row, my father came home drunk and reeking of Channel.

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me like that!” My father roared back followed by a loud thud and my mother sobbing hard.

Assuming from what I’ve heard, my father had slapped my mom. It wasn’t like this was all new to me, don’t get me wrong, but a stream of tears can’t help from falling down my cheeks.

When I can’t take it anymore, I grabbed my keys and made my way downstairs and outside to my car, an old beat-up truck which my father gave to me when I turned 15.

My family wasn’t always like that, you know. We used to be happy.

I remember when I was still a child, my father used to tell me all kinds of stories. He would always read me fairytales before I go to bed. I remember us looking out the window and pointing up to the stars – locating that one faithful star to the right, Neverland. I can’t help but smile at the bitter memory.

Yeah, so much for leading us to the land we dream.

All of that changed when I grew up.

On my 15th birthday, me and my brother was driving this same car. We were talking about how Peter Pan, my father’s favorite story to tell us have this some kind of creepy twist to it. I was forcing him to tell the damn story causing him to get bit distracted and that is when we got hit by a truck.

I, on some unfortunate odds, survived while Peter…

He died.

Two years later, my father still mourns for my brother. In some way, my father died with him.

Now, we’re living in hell. God I wish I never grew up.

If it weren’t for me, maybe he’ll still be alive.

I should’ve died instead of him.

My tears came pouring out of control at the thought.

I was furiously wiping my face and absentmindedly let go of the steering wheel and next thing I knew, a truck was about to hit me. I closed my eyes as its headlights hit my face, anticipating the hit but when I opened them, I was on the side of the road, the truck was gone and somehow, there’s a guy standing in front of my car.

My heart was still racing and I was left dumbfounded by what happened.

“Hello?” the guy called out to me and I was forced to collect myself.

“You know, you almost hit me”, he was smirking right at me.

“oh god, I’m sorry”

For a human being with an IQ above average, it was pretty dumb of me to get out of my car to stand face to face with a complete stranger at the side of the road in the middle of nowhere but for some unknown reason, I was drawn to him.

He was wearing this weird green cap and a matching green shirt which somehow made him look pretty normal yet so alluring.

“I’m Pan”, I reached out my hand in a formal greeting.

“Peter”, he shook my hand and for a moment there, I swear his hand felt as cold as ice.

“I’m sorry but did you see what just happened? I swear I saw this truck was about to hit me and… I almost died”

As I said that, he chuckled and looked me straight in the eye. This is when I noticed that his eyes were so dark it feels like they were looking straight into my soul.

“You know, they say that to die will be an awfully big adventure”, he took a step towards me and smiled.

“You want to go for an adventure, Wendy?”

I felt a cold sensation at the back of my neck.