See the truth, at the same time, be GOOD

The Verge for Defense

This would be the first time I would use this title for you readers must see that everyone has a thing or person to confess everything according to his/her point of view. It doesn’t really matter what other people might say for the thing/person confessed at would be a reliable source. It/He/She evaluates, analyzes or describes any accounts for the benefit of its/his/her master or beholder. I express nothing but what I know and I would promise to keep all biases as long as I am narrating in this blog; my verge for defense.

The Sky: The Lesson for the Day

The day is defined as the inconstant sky with bright and dark moods. There are ups and downs, victories and failures, happy and sad moments, chills and warmth and all sorts of contrasting experiences a person would imagine happened today.

And as every cloud roll by, there would always be some flock of wild birds that would fly beneath it, all of them going in the same direction.

Yet, there are some birds that travel alone. They are the real masters of the sky. The ones which would fly higher than the others delineate their capacity to know must be wider than the others who might just define a lake endless. Common species would just ignite rumors that they are arrogant, crazy or underestimating due to the fact that they cannot accept the truth these noble birds share. There would be misunderstandings, rumor-mongering, backstabbing and all sorts of illegal stuff just to plot the termination and obliteration of these birds. Even doves would join the scheme…

But for the sages, such as owls, they fly under the black cape of darkness in which no bird dares to fly. They know the strength and valiance of the dignified birds. They accept their words, their minds open and their souls unfired. They must be the only ones who know the truth, that is why, they are considered wise…

Nevertheless, we can also say that these master birds have their own shortcomings. They become aeroheads, species which REALLY underestimate everything, who would mock every mistake, who would trample upon the things they consider mediocre. This is their Achilles’ heel, for they are alone, and if they commit this act, the flock would surge to them and devour their feathers until they are destroyed. The only option to survive interaction with the same family is TO BE GOOD.

You might see the truth, speak, or act for it you can’t act righteous all the way, you would fail for your cause. Remember, flocks are all around you. You cannot be one of them You cannot join these groups for you travel a path different from theirs, and that, you are alone… See the truth, at the same time, be GOOD…

On the way home this is what I realized

I have to overlook every shortcoming done to me in order to survive the kind of environment I’m living in. There are BOSSES. There are TRICKSTERS. There are WOLVES THAT DRESS UNDER THE SHEEP’S CLOTHING. I have to forgive everything and that you must also forgive me too… Sorry Gelli. Sorry Sarah.

What becomes of the broken hearted?

Being heart broken is a thing anyone cannot eschew (unless you haven't experienced love at all or you're just so adaptive). In my intricate mind, there is this place called the land of tears wherein every color lost its hue and there's this heavy burden that settled in your heart. This the place that my mind goes whenever I feel this negative feeling. I kneel at the land's treacherous mud and fight against the cold shivering rain. All of these happen inside my head, causing my mood to be inconstant. But I really sing good whenever I feel down like this. I also have the tendency to help people with their problems from time to time. Nevertheless, I really don't want to feel this thing anymore. The problem is, I am the type of person who can't be moved in just a short period. I am a withstanding oasis in the middle of a dessert. No matter how impossible it seems, I keep going to follow my feelings of attraction to this person.

Sometimes, in this land, there are scavengers. They are the thoughts who feed upon the past things I consider unplesant and when these scavengers devour them, their stench really reminds me of their detail. They say I'm incapable of accepting the truth as well as moving on. That I'm stupid to have these feelings for him and Arghhh.... How I wish he would put up an end to this..


I continue to lament upon this sweetest mistake I made. I'm trapped in the land of tears, searching upon the portal that would transport me in this piece of heaven the successful ones experience when they're in lurv...

The Graveyard of Hopes and Dreams

The smoke reached the boy’s lungs and constricted him. The boy coughed loudly, catching the attention of everyone who is riding the jeep all the way to Taft Avenue. He looks away and apologizes, groaning about the fuel odor combined with the black smoke. Clank, the jeep bumped because of the potholes made by the mosaic-like asphalt in the road. As his head throbbed in pain for hitting the metal bar above him, he yelled loudly, “BAKIT GANITO SA ‘PINAS(Why is it like this in the Philippines)? An old woman replied “*Leche, tumahimik ka nga diyan *iho. Kung hindi ka masasanay dito, umalis ka na(Can you please be quiet? If you can’t adapt here, better leave)… The boy, known as Hector Valdez, shrugged and showed of his arrogance. He knocked loudly against the ceiling of the jeep and signaled that he would go down. The driver followed quickly, beeping his horn automatically to attract passengers. No one knew that even before he rode the jeep, his day was already ruined by his classmates who kept eschewing their project by allotting imaginary dates.

As a boy who grew up from a foreign land, Hector had no idea what is it like being a Filipino. His father is a pure blood British and his departed mother was a Filipina. Hector was sent in the Philippines because his father had to leave him under the care of Paciana, his aunt. The boy studies in a prestigious science school whose name can be changed through the hands of a powerful autocrat. He is the president of his class, a known varsity player and a silver medalist. Though fulfilling all his duties both in school and in his house, Hector did not feel satisfied with his life in the country. He knew that inside, there is an empty space that needs to be filled.

He entered inside a park, filled with butterflies and mild breeze. As he continued to walk, he realized that the place is a graveyard. He sat in one of the benches with a couple of pigeons, trying to nib his shirt. The boy looked at the trees with withering leaves and gloomy twigs. His eyes traveled to a tombstone which stated:

Here lies Dr. J--------------
Hoping that his wishes and dreams of supporting the youth maybe unearthed and kept forever while his body may rot to its very core.

Another one said
Here rests the body Gen. E--------------
“The will of a brave mind does not bend to anyone; for he knew the Lord was with him….”

All of the tombstones convey a single message as Hector scrubbed his eyes. It seemed like a dream, trying to give him a message from the different icons of his country. He continued to stroll and wept until he reached the last tombstone. It said

This is the body of a martyr named J-------------------------
Believing that standing out against the sinful crowd and herding God’s flock is better for a short period of time is better than living a lifetime of wickedness…
His spirit rose and went for the gate. He looked at the society full of unguided people, tyrants, and beggars. He has the God-given knowledge no man living knew. The cemetery lay behind him, buzzing him of every thought he got from these heroes. This is the time, he has to act…

(prepare for a sequel)

The enigmas of the day

Out of the blue, I suddenly felt that I’m very weak. In the corner, I sat, pondering about the things that have passed recently. One of those things was him... Crap, I really don’t want to put a lot of drama but the fiery sentiments kept coming. I wonder why I find it hard to talk to him or perhaps look at him whenever he’s there. I also find it quick to be atrocious in his presence. I hate it when I see him but I really feel contented in searching for him in the crowd. What this feeling’s called anyway?

A few moments later, my mind drifted for the next subject. We would be checking our test papers. HMMMMM… I mean MMMMMM… Look around burbies, there ARE tricksters in the midst. They may be an icon, a meek sheep or a critic or anybody else but The One who sees all we do knows that they are changing their answers. Well if not, they might have copied or asked or used a mirror just to satisfy their palpable blank items. Oh my gosh, what if they receive higher marks than those who are studying really hard… I mean, what if injustice rules over the truth? Here I am to act :))… Just wait for the phantom is lurking…

This day leaves me the image of the great unknown for love, academics as well as camaraderie. Gtg..I have to make my pot and research…

Stop Look and Listen (Lyrics by PJFL, Melody by LAFL)

With all the things that's happening

In this crazy world of ours

You'll always feel your head spinning

Round and round and round and round

All the people running here and there

You just have to pop

Sometimes it's too much to bear

And you just want to stop

[Chorus]

Stop, look, and listen's all you gotta do

Take a break, look around, and know what's good for you

You know you want to so just give in

Come on, baby, just stop, look and listen


People take things too quickly nowadays

Days flit by in just a mere second

Just wait a sec while the music plays

And sing to the world, yeah, baby, say

[Chorus]


Now come and take my hand

We'll escape from this busy world

Let's fly away and leave all this behind

Go, go, just say the word

The greatest thing you'll ver learn is to love and be loved in return"

Love, love, love...this is what they all think about. In their group messages, their status in Yahoo! Messenger, in Facebook, in the billboards, in the clouds. Sometimes I wonder if it would be Valentine's Day everyday...

As a typical human being, I exist to love...Actually this is what women actually do. They do things for their loved ones. A nun does her chores patiently because she loves God. A teenager puts the best make-up, the best dress and the best pair of shoes, for she wants to impress her crush/boyfriend. A mother watches the Lifestyle Network all day long just to find the most delicious meals she could prepare, because she loves her family. A teacher finds the most delightful activities, just to catch the attention of her beloved students. Even a lowly woman seeks for love.

I don't need to explain why love can be the most beautiful thing for anyone has seen numerous statements about love. It sets emotions on fire, with the greatest hope their beloved would love them back.

How a heart laments when its sought after pair doesn't want to accept it back. No matter how hard the effort is, how much the amount of letters, the countless songs it offered... The beholder goes to the land of tears, breaking into fragments until a new interest takes place...

The Wound that Healed

The police’ siren rang like the wailing woman on the way to the crime scene. A priest from a church in Mahogany St. has been shot in the head from a M1911 pistol. He was accompanied by two women before who appeared they came from a nearby club. Out of nowhere, a mysterious man in black projected the bullet with no regret. How could this criminal shoot a man of God? He looks up to the sky, salutes it and comes down from the billboard he climbed. He approaches the police car and waves Hello. The police smiles back. What a card…

This man is called Bruin Sparks. He is the personal manager of the Ivonricks Company. Killing and making bullets are his secret hobbies, making him more peculiar and mysterious. All his crimes were untraceable and he as a criminal was branded “Hades” in the police station. If someone would know him by heart, they would approach him with fear and carefulness. Even his bosses were afraid of him. He is a person who doesn’t like to disturbed yet a real genius when asked for a project or a strategic approach on reports.

The man now sat on a nearby lake, polishing his bullets made of jacketed lead and copper. He was approached by a kid with a age of seven. He pointed his gun with a boiling feeling inside. The kid smiled.
“Gee, what a beautiful gun you have there, mister? It’s just like in the movies…”
]”Shut your pipe hole kid. I don’t want to be bothered.”
“That’s very rude for a respectable man like you.”
“Respectable? Who are you calling respectable, I just killed a priest.”

Bruin grinned widely as he waited for the child to scream in terror. But the kid continued to talk as if it was a normal conversation. “I’m sure everybody gets bored when they hear priests give sermons but why shoot the priest?” “He’s gagging the tow whores that he’s with” the killer replied angrily, looking down again to his bullets. “Aren’t priests banned from doing that?” “Of course they were.” “Yeah, but why shoot the priest?” The kid kept asking on. “Go back to your mother kid. You’re forcing me to kill you as well. I shoot the priest because he raped my sister, three years ago.” “Oh, that’s very sad. You should’ve forgiven him.” The man looked with contempt. “I don’t care if you talk like God, kid. I killed tons of people and I hate when somebody asks me why I killed them. Get lost.” “You’re being irrational for a grown-up man. I know why you killed them” The man looked surprised and thought Maybe I’m facing God. Maybe this is my last day. Bruin stood up and cleaned the place. He’s trying to eschew the boy “Did it ever come to you that when you have a problem, you have to terminate it?” Bruin explained. “I killed them because they were the cause of my problems. I saved others at the same time, freeing them from the burden they get from this people.” “Really? How about the people who loved them the most? Do you think, it would be okay for them…” The man fixed a cold stare at the boy. “You know nothing.” He turned his back at the child, ready to leave. “It is because you did not let go of your problems” “Huh?” The kid blow up a balloon and fixed a string. It was made ready to float. He gave this to Bruin. “My mom said that if you have this problems, all you have to do is tell it to God and pass it all to him. Now is the time for you to do the same.” The man took the balloon from the child and whispered something to the balloon. “Now let go. Have you said everything?” “Yes.” The man let the balloon go and watched it soar. He threw all this bullets in the water with the gun. “It’s not easy you know”, he said to the child. “I know, but you have to trust in Him. Do you know the Bible?” “Yes but I won’t read it.. My mother had it held near her heart when she was shot by my father. My sister clasped it when the accident was finished. My brother took it in his grave.” “Try reading it.” The kid offered. They parted ways when Bruin saw the police car. A parade of mourning supporters was following the corpse of the priest. Bruin approached the police car and surrendered himself. He kept smiling all the time. The officer said “You’re a strange man that you were even proud of what you did. Why did you surrender, do you know you would be getting a life sentence? ““I guess it would be better living inside a cell with your wounds all mended up by a single balloon. Besides, I’ve got a good book to read.” Bruin slept comfortably inside the car when the child looked from the chair beside the driver’s seat.