CHI LDHOOD MEMORIES TEKPEN REFILL 0.40
THE
BUTTRESS TEKPEN Refill 0.4
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CHILDHOOD MEMORIES TEKPEN Refill 0.40 is the literary-art folio of The Buttress, the (awesome) official student publication of the School of Engineering and Architecture, Saint Louis University, Baguio City. It is the artistic outlet of the SEA spirit which is uniquely bibo in every way. Copyright 2019-2020 by The Buttress. All Rights eserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the written information from the author or from the publication.
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Nararapat lang na balikan ang mga aral na itinuro sa atin ng karanasan pang malaman kung bumuti ba ang ating kalagayan.
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Hindi mo aakalaing mag-iingay pa muli ang mga halakhak ng ating pagkabata At ang mga iyak ng una nating pagkadapa.
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Editor's EditoR's note
Bago ka mapanghinaan ng loob, muli naming ipapaalala sa’yo kung papaano ka natuto at bumangon;
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Kung papaano mo nahubog ang iyong pagkatao at kung papaano mo namulat ang iyong mga mata. Sana malaman mong hindi ka nag-iisa.
Aeron Bernard Amon Editor-in-Chief, A.Y. 2019-2020
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Paruparong q Bukid m
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I gazed upon clear skies, Saw a hand-shaped cloud waving by. Time stopped but million seconds rushed back Vision went dark but a hand reached out, Carried me, I felt the safest place.
On the left, I saw trees and fields so green. On the right, a farm orchestra hums, Solemnly eats but surely want a talk. On my back, ducks and chicken follow A voice said, “They’re your friends forever.”
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We walked, the kubo was waiting, Filled with snacks that pleased my soul. Bananas, mangoes, guavas, and more! Together with my favorite, a song that calms A mellow lullaby so pleasant, immeasurable. “Paruparong bukid na lilipad-lipad Sa gitna ng daan papaga-pagaspas” But vision went back so sudden, Opened my eyes with the tear of reality, That was way before, now I am twenty. Tatay cannot carry me anymore. His arms aren’t strong as before, they are already weary. But one thing’s for sure, He can still sing me that song, “Paruparong Bukid.”
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We were young and the world was a Wanderland
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When I was young, I’d wake up from the burrito I made myself into last night and giggle as I make my way out of it. Today, I got up, fixed my bed and went for a run. I used to eat those colorful fruity froot loops with some milk that mom made for me. They were my favorite! Today, I made oats with some fruits so I don’t get bloated. I’d play with Mr. Snuggles before lunch and pretend we are in Rainbow Land then sneak our way to the garden to pick some flowers. Today, I met my friends and talked about politics. Dad used to give me piggy back rides and throw me in the air so I pretend I can jump so so high, up, and up! Today, I drove my way back home and got pissed with the heavy traffic then messaged mom and dad saying I’m home. Mom would put me to bed and tell me I’m an angel. Tonight, I showered and scrolled endlessly through my phone. The child in me used to whisper good night to the stars and the moon then dream of flying; today, I still did. Maybe I’ve gotten used to the truths of life and realized the realities of this world but I would always dream. Oh, yes, I always would.
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WOULD YOU PLEASE? If I left a part of my heart in 2005, would you accompany me as far as 2000?
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Mulberry it was one of those afternoons after school it was not once it was not twice i left my bag and run down the stairs it was glorious it was fun it was dirty but it was fun it was purple it was pink it was green it was a mulberry
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To the Girl I once was,
Know that I stood for you every step of the way. Remember that every broken pencil and each lost eraser was what made me. Keep in mind that the smiles you shared to your fellow innocent souls were my precious gems. Never forget that letters you learned, every shape you drew, each milestone you reached, all numbers you counted made a dreamer- made me. Sincerely yours, The future You
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Taya! Taya! Ikaw ang taya! Mga bata maging bata'y sobrang saya! Panahong inosente ka pa Panahong ok lang mandaya. Walang alinlangan sa pait ng mundo. Walang muwang sa gulo at bugso. Tagu-taguan maliwanag ang buwan.
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Sa Mata ng mga Ayaw Tumanda
e l Kailan ba naging mapait ang taguan? Ayos lang lokohin ang kapwa. Ayos lang magtago sa likod nila. Mga bata, wag kayong tumanda! Mga bata, huwag kayong gagaya sa matatanda! Langit, lupa, impyerno, im-im-impyerno Saksak puso tulo ang dugo Patay? Buhay?
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Langit, lupa, impyerno, im-im-impyerno Saksak puso tulo ang dugo Patay? Buhay? Nasa langit ba tayo o nasa impyerno? Malay ko, bata pa ako. Oras na pwede pang pumatay. Oras na masaya pang mabuhay. Langit ba o impyerno ang hahantungan ko?
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i MISSION: ABORT
To the kids that the nocturnal birds watched over at slumber:
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The once overcast sky is now clear – like how your mind is – placid, serene. I know you know that feeling, my friend. The crows, which once perched on your windows almost every night, was driven away by you.
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I always knew all along you would have the courage To face and to drive them away. Oh, little fellow, cast the tears Away from your eyes, stand up. Because you have transcended the birds and finally would Soar the great skies without even looking at the cliffs Underneath the flight.
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Soar high – For the heavens have now let you free.
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Friday afternoon Homeworks are set aside Braided rubber bands in one hand A white cotton towel on the other. Excited heart inside his chest A smile tattooed on his tiny lips. He meets with his friends and played Under one of those big mango trees. They hopscotched until they dropped, Running ‘til they can’t catch their breaths, Laughing at other’s mistake And laughing again when they make one. When dusk comes, there are also goodbyes. Tomorrow is Saturday And assignments will be once again forgotten
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b SOLACE, ET AL.
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My father used to always bring me to the beach on New Year’s and I always found solace in that one day of the year I get to greet the roaring waves that would push my body against the current. The hot sand that filled between my toes as I fidgeted while waiting for go signal is probably one of the sensations that remain the same until now.
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With much confidence due to my floater, I would swim far, far away, while the glaring and naïve sun would warm my skin as I rest back on that black rubber ring. It felt like I was simply levitating, being taken away by the smoother waves of the deeper waters. It felt like I slowly turned into nothing, my eyes closing to the scent of the salty ocean air. The ocean speaks a new language to me now The crashing waves now only sounds I would listen to with my lo-fi beats as I would space out and try to create something meaningless to me The sun, ever so glaring, now beckons me, but I withdraw from the fear of burning myself to what society has conditioned me to think is ugly.
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What I’m trying to say here is Forgetting how to love the simplest joys in life is the worst thing I had to learn.
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Good Old days
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When crayons used, only add up to eight When pens are a privilege, no debate A set of pencil case filled to the brim We be a royalty that others dream
School’s a wonderland to look forward to Where Math was such an easy task to do Our playtime seems longer than study time That we never stress on things like deadlines
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Remember how we wished we were grown-ups? And hope that time goes fast and never stops? Well jokes on us, because we could have not known That childhood is a phase we can’t postpone
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You loved my over-sized shirts. You once went to my room to raid my dresser. And when I got home, you were already chilling with mom and our dog in the living room wearing my favorite jersey that you got ketchup on. You loved flowers. But maybe you loved me more because when I gave you a huge bouquet on your birthday and I sneezed because I was allergic to them. You laughed and said I don’t have to give you flowers anymore. You said you’d rather like me to treat you to Burger King anyway. And you love sunrises. You loved them so much that when we moved to our new house, you’d wake up so early in the morning, make me horrible and scolding hot coffee, and bounce on your feet as you drag me to our balcony, watching the sun rise over the city. So watching sunrises over burgers for breakfast in a lonely cemetery was probably our thing now. I still wear that shirt with the ketchup stain, and when I close my eyes, I pretend that it’s you hugging me. Despite what the tombstone says, you never left. You never left my heart. I miss you, bunso.
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We come to life not knowing what lies ahead The first thing we do is cry, declaring we are alive Then everything comes next; the steps, the words, the firsts. We learn, we grow, we function But were we given the chance to live?
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As time goes by we began to be conscious Ideas popping over here and there We start going to school filling our brains to the brim
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Education they say, you’ll get along with life very well And then they control you with the rights and wrongs Were you really living then?
EGO
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But then again even with all of the things being fed We have our own choices We started keeping secrets We tried to do what we want We embodied ourselves. It’s okay if you’re not ready yet It’s alright if you’re still hiding in that shell Sooner or later You’ll get there We’ll live, will live.
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SUPEREGO
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Fairytale.
Another day starts and I wake up thanking the sun who seems to smile at me. I stretched my little arms and legs, smiling from ear to ear. Getting up, fixing the bed with a hum, I kissed my mom and dad telling them how much I love them. Then Alice got lost in wonderland I love meeting a lot of people High fives here and there, skipping along with people my age, I dance to songs and draw in every wall I see. I play unendingly until my mom shouts at me for misbehaving But the shoe didn’t fit Cinderella’s foot. I still fall down getting bruises and wounds. I’d still wait for the train to come out with grains of rice. I’d cry so hard and loud until given the needed attention. I wanted to be heard, to be felt, to be loved And Buzz Lightyear joins the gang getting all comfy Then comes my friends, the ones I laugh with all of my heart out. Trying out dresses, having cute crushes, giving out presents. And then slowly I realized how life gives me a turning point. Built in concrete, something the wolf could never destroy. I started to cry; I started to love I struggled in learning; I had big dreams I fell down seven; I got up eight Like Lightning McQueen finishing the race, Like how life taught me that I’d be an ace.
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NAGDAAN AT HINDI NA MULI Muling balikan ang nakaraan
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Ang mga pangarap at mga taong nagdaan Parang kahapon lang tayo nagbibiruan. Lumipas na pala ang ating kabataan. Naalala ko pa ang meryenda ni Lola, Mga palabas na inaabangan sa umaga, Patintero, maglalaro kahit palaging taya. Mga alaalang babalik-balikan sa saya.
Sana ay muling maramdaman Ang takot kapag nahuli ni Mama, Ang tamis ng kalinga ni Lola, Ang mga biro na hindi nagbabago kay Papa. Madami na pala ang nagbago. Hindi na tayo amoy pawis sa kanto Wala na din ang biruan at kwentuhan
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May responsibilidad nang dapat pahalagahan.
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I was afraid of large rooms, The space of the empty four corners expanding endlessly until I felt like I suffocated I would hide, I would sob helplessly, and all of these traumatizing moments were moments to be perceived as an antic, silly, a joke, the mere fact that I was scared, that I would suffer bouts of panic attacks were all something they laughed about. Smiles stretching as their loud, unbearable laughter only made things worse. I was taught to be numb, to be numb to the hurt when children at school would call me names that crying was something wrong, and that I should never show that to anyone I grew up being afraid of the shouting I received whenever I knew how to feel; To feel nothing as much as possible, maybe isn’t such a bad thing. As a young adult, there are now only a number of things I fear, My thoughts, psychopaths, and my future.
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But no matter how hard I tried to grow up from it, I hide, I sob helplessly, and most importantly, I laughed because I grew up conditioned to recognize all my fears to simply be trivial jokes.
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Another thing to laugh about.
As a child, there were many things I feared. I was afraid of thunder and strong wind, The whistle of the air made me feel as if it could break every building down to its bare frames.
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I N E XC H AN G E I remember not, the innocent yet glorious days When the world didn’t seem like such a scary place. Where our minds were filled with so much curiosity What a great time for passion and dreams not reality. Like angels soaring freely, no limits to bound. We fly towards countless unknowns yet to be found For we had wings of confidence to explore. However, They slowly got plucked away as we got older For reality demands that we stay on ground And make do without complaint with what is around. Oh child in me who got lost in exchange for maturity Forever lost in nostalgia, forever but a memory.
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DECEMBER GHOST
I went out of bed, hoping to snack on milk and cookies for the chances of sleeping better. But what I saw the first thing I got in our living room shocked the life out of me. “My child, why are you up so late? I did not expect you to see me like this,” a guy in a funny and familiar red outfit said. I tried to make out the details on his bearded face, but my vision was still blurry from waking up. And before I could even have a clear view of him, he started to head out, laughing heartily. “I will be back next year!” he exclaimed as he rode his sled. His reindeers flew him quickly into the breezy sky, with his laughter echoing across the merry neighborhood. And so I’ve lived that single day of the year, sitting at our living room, waiting for him – the man in a funny and familiar red outfit, who laughs distinctly with the sound of “Ho! Ho! Ho!” But never came to see me again. I am 20 years old now, but I would still wait for him every Christmas Eve. My mom hugged me tight as she sat beside me. “Your dad’s gone. He’s never coming back. Sleep now, sweetie.”
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When I hear people talk about how they lost passion when they grew older I find myself wondering how it must’ve felt to have such fire in their hearts for a long time.
I wish I grew up seeing those vibrant colours everyone seems to reminisce about.
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How could I compare My neglected, wobbly written letter-to-my-parent cards to their crude lines of colourful drawings of stick figures and smiley faces, houses and v-shaped birds held with pride on refrigerators.
I wish I knew what it felt to get the toy set as an award for keeping our hands clasped and for being obedient in school.
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I wish I felt what it was like to feel tears well up in my throat during recollections to the moment we are told to think about our mothers and fathers. I wonder what it feels like to be able to be proud to remember what being a child was like because no matter how much I tried to forget the memories of not having a proper one never leave me.
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we yearn what we do not have.
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Evolution of Complication
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The world is small, bright and good Filled with wonders I can’t wait to ponder At the top of my greatest dreams, I stood I was an enthused adventurer Life was less complicated Toys brought me joy Tries made me cry I started to build my story
My child-idly mind was a mystery, A natural explorer on a spree Another day comes new history Folly adventures are best discoveries
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As I enter this room full of memories I desire nothing more than my youth, A life full of joy and lesser agonies Everything becomes complicated with this growth.
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z There’s nothing like a box of broken crayons. There are specific moments that come to me when I am told to think about my childhood. The gray pools of rain accumulated on the concrete of my elementary school, The creaky, deep brown wood of the bright-yellow colored classroom. The shame that pooled and twisted in my stomach as my fifth grade math teacher embarrassed me in front of the vibrant green blackboard with all of my bright
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Sometimes, I think about that ouija board we had found at the back of the gym, The curiosity and fear of the occult and the unknown, Imagining the floor is hell, and that any platform is heaven, pretending to be demons, pretending to be angels And waiting for our parents to fetch me as the sun slowly sinks down at four in the afternoon
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about how back then, I thought I would be a veterinary doctor how back then, when we would think we could boast about reaching dreams andkissing the stars how back then, that everything had lesser consequence how back then, we didn’t know how to think too much
While we are told that we eventually forget bad things, I always tried to believe in that but they clung to me like a nightmare, The way I had to be shamed in class whenever I displayed my shortcomings fumbling away at the numbers I couldn’t decipher, the scientific names I couldn’t remember
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The way I had been ostracized by other children just because of the way I looked feeling so helpless in the way my friends had laughed along with them The way I never truly allowed myself to be happy because I would be made fun of when I was.
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Isn’t it rather terrifying; how much one can remember about their past?
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CREDITS L ite r ary pi ec es
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TITLE
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Paruparong Bukid
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We Were young and The
CONTRIBUTOR Ibong Maya Jessa Cleo Baldevarona
World Was a Wanderland 5
Would You Please
Julie Christine Pindug
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Mulberry
Julie Christine Pindug
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To the Girl I Once Was
Julie Christine Pindug
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Sa Mata ng mga Ayaw Tumanda
Zam
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Mission: Abort
kneelfatrake
13
3 O’ Clock
kneelfatrake
16
Solace et al.
Jillian Dasep
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Good Old Days
Steffany Tabuga
20
Of Sunrise, Ketchup, and Burgers
kneelfatrake
21
Id, Ego, Superego
Samantha Claire Abulencia
24
Fairytale
Samantha Claire Abulencia
25
Nagdaan at Hindi na Muli
Julie Christine Pindug
27
Another Thing to Laugh About
Jillian Dasep
29
In Exchange
Steffany Tabuga
32
December Ghost
kneelfatrake
33
We Yearn What We Do Not Have
Jillian Dasep
35
Evolution of Complication
Julie Christine Pindug
37
There’s Nothing Like
Jillian Dasep
A Box of Crayons
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CREDITS
I llu str ati o n s & P h oto g r a p h s
PAGE
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TITLE
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CONTRIBUTOR
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Sa Tabing Ilog
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Laot
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Clouds
5
[untitled]
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Tea
Clarise Monique Taqueban
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Scrb a dub-dub
Clarise Monique Taqueban
Kalea Jacy Fontillas Kalea Jacy Fontillas Melissa Gaile Sicat Kalea Jacy Fontillas
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[untitled]
Marc Joshua Espejo
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Future
Aubrey June Espanto
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Probinsya Things
Kalea Jacy Fontillas
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A Father’s Embrace
Steffany Tabuga
17
Then and Now
Steffany Tabuga
18
Untitled
Czariah Kyn Guanzo
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[untitled]
Jozelle Casiano
21
[untitled]
Rey Joseph Soriano
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[untitled]
Rey Joseph Soriano
23
Alms
Melissa Gaile Sicat
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[untitled]
Rey Joseph Soriano
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Up
Clarise Monique Taqueban
30
Oblivious
Melissa Gaile Sicat
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Kid See Ghost
Aeron Amon
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[untitled]
Clarise Monique Taqueban
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[untitled]
Rey Joseph Soriano
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Bubble
Czariah Kyn Guanzo
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Superheroes
Aubrey June Espanto
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Press Start
Neil Catacutan
Cover Art Design
Kalea Jacy Fontillas
Introduction Art
Aubrey June Espanto
Chief Layout Artist
Aubrey June Espanto
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Nill: Sa lahat ng kalaro ko noon ng taguan; Sa lahat ng hinabol ko sa hagaran; Sa lahat ng humarang sa akin sa patintero; Sa lahat ng coloring books na kinulayan ko. Sa lahat mga palong natanggap ko sa aking nanay; Sa lahat ng mga pasalubong galing trabaho ng aking tatay; Sa walang sawang away namin ng aking kapatid; Sa mga halakhak naming kita na ang gilagid. Sa lahat ng aking mga nakaing lupa; Sa lahat ng dungis sa aking mukha; Sa lahat ng mga alala ng aking kabataan; Salamat nang walang hanggan! Sa lahat din ng tinawag ako baby... Sana ipinutok na lang kayo sa kumot. Robe: Maraming salamat po sa The Buttress, lalo na sa mga members na patuloy na nagsusumikap para sa malayang pamamahayag. Maraming salamat din po sa mga patuloy na sumusuporta at tumatangkilik ng ating publication. Thank you family and friends. God bless everyone! Samantha: Thank you to the Buttress fam who never stopped to push me and believed in my capabilities. There was never a dull moment whether it be doing articles or just letting the time pass by waiting for another class. To my family and friends for the unending support, salamat at mahal ko kayo! Especially my ChE friends, kapit lang! We’ll get there soon.
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Jillian: Thankie sa Buttress tas sa mga baliw kong mga kaibigan na laging andiyan sa gilid gilid. More of that crazy energy I live for it. Thank you for picking up a copy of this Tekpen, too! I hope you enjoyed the content. ;P Kacy: To the buttress and to its members, I would like to t h a n k you because being a member of this publication helped me as first year student. I gained confidence, friends, and people I can trust. I am happy that I chose to join and I never regret it. Ihad fun and a lot of knowledge— inside and outside the school. I hope, that in thenext few years new and old members won’t forget and get tired of our publication. Aubrey: From the past few months I have been with you, I never felt excluded and you all made me feel like I belong. I wish to establish a strong camaraderie with everyone and I wish to stay loyal and continue to achieve the primary role of the publication until I graduate and even when I leave the school. Miriam: Thank you and keep publishing.
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Rena: Thank you Buttress for putting up with me and for accepting me into your publication. You guys have been so understanding to me and I am grateful for that. Jeremil: Thank you for the new experiences I would have not expected as I transfer to SLU. Even though I had missed some activities, I hope that these experiences would be as memorable to the future experiences I will share with The Buttress and I hope I can be part of it this time around. Monique: Dear Hoomans and buttfriends, Thank you for the friendship and support while putting up with my moody self. Thanks din sa mga taga take-out ko and mga kasama kong lumalamon pag nag crave ako ng food lalo na sa mga “nagda-diet”. Love you guys! a Joseph: Hello, everything! Una sa lahat gusto kong magpasalamat sa ating Poong Maykapal sa pagbibigay ng lakas at karunungan at sa mga kapwa ko alagad ni Otto Hahn sa patuloy na pagsuporta sa The Buttress. Thank you din sa lahat ng Buttheads na gumabay sa aking unang taon, thank you po mga ate and kuya. The Buttress made my first year as SEAn extra special! l Looking forward to more years working with you guys. Ipagpatuloy ang pagiging BIBO! Julie: Thanks for the never ending story of everyday. Thanks to you for giving me smiles, thanks to you for making me cry. Thank you for the reason the sun rises and sets as well as the
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moon shines in the dark of my universe. I owe you lots.
C a l v i n : Salamat po! Maraming salamat! C, always. Allen: Salamat na lang sa lahat, The Buttress. Ang kapal! Hahaha! De kade, kapag gumaan na schedule, guys. Bawi xi ac0h. Maraming salamat sa lahat lahat, The Buttress! Tinkyu tinkyu rin po sa mga overlords at siyempre sa current members and ed board ng Buttress. Maraming, maraming salamat sa SEA Community at mga taga-subaybay nito! Alabyu pu. Neil: Thank you po! Thank you po! Thank you po! LLL Steffany: To The Buttress, I have only been with you for years but I already feel indebted to your help and to the best people I have met in my college life. Master Buttlog: Salamat sa lahat ng mga tumatangkilik at patuloy na sumusuporta sa aking kulto. Nawa’y biyayaan kayo ng passing grades, mapagmahal na jowa at masaganang s*x life. At sa lahat ng mga nagtrabaho at naghirap para maging posible ang Tekpen Refill 0.4, mabuhay kayo! Arigathanks gozaimuch! Ipagpatuloy ang pagiging bibo!
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The Buttress E D I TO R I A L B O A R D
2019 - 2020
Editor-in-Chief Aeron Bernard Amon Internal Associate Editor Clarise Monique Taqueban External Associate Editor Neil Allen Madera Managing Editor Jillian Dasep Circulations Editor Steffany Anne Tabuga
News & Sports Editor Quinn Umbina Feature & Entertainment Editor Nill Patrick Dulce Literary Editor Athena Criselle Leonen Head Staff Writer Zyra Grace Binwag Head Cartoonist Czariah Kyn Guanso Head Layout Artist Robe Martin Reyes Head Photojournalist Marc Joshua Espejo Senior Staff Writer
Christine Joy Pagaduan Senior Cartoonists
Krizza Mhay Caryl Bucsit Apple May Dotimas Junior Staff Writers
Samantha Claire Abulencia Jessa Cleo Baldeverona Reighne Ryan Ines Dean Cris Magno Rena Danielle Perez Julie Christine Pindug Miriam Rachel Tid-ong Senior Photojournalists
Jozelle Casiano Rey Joseph Soriano
Senior Photojournalist
Reendon Ike Calaydan Senior Lay-out Artist
Raquel Borja
Junior Cartoonists
Edward Joseph Bengco Neil Cesar Catacutan Calvin Jeremy Estrada Kalea Jacy Fontillas Mourika Gail Perez Melissa Gaile Sicat Jeremil Tuiza Junior Layout Artists
Aubrey June Espanto LaVeida Terceno
Mikhail Odulio Editorial Consultant
Engr. Jeffrey Des Binwag Engr. Erwin Posadas Advisers