Thank you everyone. I LOVE YOU ALL! Kisses especially to CE4bullies
Lady GraGra ..................................................................................................... RANDOM RANTS: THE UNIVERSE IS WATCHING. COMPOST HAPPENS. SO, THANKS, SEE YA! WOULDN’T WANNA BEYA!
- niQi Lim .....................................................................................................
GRATITUDE
Thanks for reading the folio. To all my classmates and batch mates, ECE-5 and ECE students, trail family, thanks. Thank you for being such supportive companions as I traverse my college life and are continuously present every time I needed someone to talk to. Thank you for inspiring me every time I’m expired(really?!) emotionally, physically, and spiritually. And thanks God, i know You’re there. All the time.
-jerbor11 ..................................................................................................... Yow! Wazzup! How are ya’ll? Just wanna tell everyone that revolves around my bizarre world that I Thank You deep within the veins of my heart. Nan Jeongmal Gamsahamnida Irobeun! Hontouni Arigato Gozaimasu Minnasan! Special Greetings for those creatures that lives within the magnificent and astonishing world of the Kpop and Anime! To all Kpop Lovers (especially the ♠s) and Otakus out there. Saranghaeyo! Daisuke desu! To all Human who gave color to my 16 years of existence in the earth, THANK YOU and I LOVE YOU ALL! GOD BLESS US ALL~ Nyaaaaaaaa :3
R
RocylierManheavenLagz
..................................................................................................... “Be thankful for your struggle because without it, you wouldn’t have stumbled to your success.” Thank you to the ones who believed in me (BWAHAHA) but most especially to those who discouraged me to do what I want, because of you guys I am here and still proving you wrong :D To my very inspiring family and relatives, to my super crazy friends (barkadas&tropas), to my amazing support system, to someone special who helps me during my hardships, to my idols who really rock and to our Father Almighty who sent me here for His purpose – from this (una daw ang CRAZY before BEAUTIFUL :D haha alright!) again ... from this CRAZY BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS THANK YOU SO MUCH! Hinaot ko unta nga kamo pud makabalo sa inyong tumong sa kinabuhi daw magpuyo ug malinawon ☺ Godspeed!
Always, RejAdore ♥ (Mygirl Dafabunista)
..................................................................................................... I am at peace. Lies. There was neither peace nor serenity. I was blindly forcing myself to believe I was lying on a colourful fTmy regards to you and all those dark spirits that always follow you around. I’ll continue to send dark omens your way so look forward to that. It was fun; Kamsahamnida. For all you other humans out there, look at life in a brighter perspective. My eyes are too dim. It is up to you to discover the full spectrum of this world’s beauty and enjoy it to the fullest. Not everyone is given that opportunity.
-Bitterness.Returns17-
Thank You LORD kaayo!! ulahi sa tnan (para ma-iba :p), slamt sa pagbuhi sako Ma, Pa!labyu! saqng neice nga lingasan og lambing kau, En-en!labyu! sa Cirque de Entable’, LEADS prtcpnts, tolomot so onyo ho? Hue!hue! saqng bandm8s, rakrakan na!apil tag batol op d bands bay!! \m/! Sa TEAMBULLY: bes Neslyn, bes Hannah, bes Jose and bes Rikki (acc to catgory ang pgsulat ani.. :P), salamat kau sa cgeg pambully saq ha? “anad nmn q daog-daogon!”, my favrit lyn! Nyahahaha!!salamat btaw,lab tamu og kabawo mo anah!(maghilak unta mo!) mga p’re,pista ha og mga bdays,e-invyt bya q!huehue! KPA and ARCU pamli, salamat!labtamu!ed cge pan-ekal mga bes! Saqng mga krass n wah ka krass naq,hulati lng mashopo ko,balikan tamu! :p ky Maads Charlyn, Ateh Karyl Eunice slamat ahp?! Og katong future GF naq (oyy gikilig!) amping bya ha? Hnaot makta naq nimo og mkta n tka! Bxta!bxta!bxta! ikaw aqng BOSS..(isip-isip)!..dto nla-ang eh! Powtek!! ar-egat-oh!
-cheap_monk..................................................................................................... I would like to give THANKS to the following To God - for all the blessings To my Family - for all kinds of support for the love, care and guidance specially to my sistahs To The Trailblazer - for the opportunity To my Friends - for all those sh***y memories for the past four years To my sponsors - Bench, Levi’s, Krispy Kreme, Adidas, Ayala Malls, Samsung .. Thank You! ☺ Mga NUKUS! - PUSH NYO YAN! BATCHMATES - BSIT 2010 - 2014 GOD BLESS , GOOD LUCK
GRATITUDE “Your life may not be going the way you planned it , but it is going exactly the way GOD planned it”
[Y] ..................................................................................................... For those who carefully and religiously (or even critically) took the folio at heart, my heartfelt thank you goes to you. My confidence that you can sustain such enthusiasm to all efforts we will be endeavoring for the next issues of this publication is undaunted.
-Ar-gie Longganay..................................................................................................... At long last, trail na si CeeJay.. Thanks to my fam sa support. For ARKITORTYURed people sa MUST regards ko especially to their panda eyes ☺ kang DK nga sigeg sinamuk kong magsulat ko tenksss much japun and to Ratel F. for always helping me out with everything.. Thanks and grateful ko to my co-trail for giving me a chance to be a part in this org and to write and write and write sa akong pinaka-inaabangan which is Reflections (the reason why i joined Trailblazer). For those who will take time to read Reflections ’14 biggest and warmest THANK YOU!!!!
CeeJay B. ..................................................................................................... To the “tawiwis” of the Trailblazer Publication. To my ARKItorture blockmates and Frank Lloyd Wright. To our readers and will be readers. Thank you to the moon and back.
xoxo, orejet <3
Ma, Pa, ate’s, kuya’s,chitoy(itoynamu) friends, relatives, teachers (maam sy & anj),mr. president, power rangers,must, trail,sa pc,office,aircon,clock,pens, magazines,tcms, cas, ssc,csg,xu,devcom and to angelica rianne etc. and lastly to God almighty from the bottom of my heart thank you so much for everything i owe a lot from you guys.sa mga wala na mention e msg nlng ko sa facebook ha?poke sah!paki like sakong prof pic :P sa mga kontra nako, na utangan nako, sakong giutangan MAYRA! aw hehe joke peace tanan! DAGHAN SALAMAT SA INYONG TANAN :]
boikaging ..................................................................................................... Ayokong mag-thank-you. Sa pamilya ko. Sa mga kaibigan ko. Sa mga ka-Trailblazer ko. Sa mga Kapatid/churchm8s ko. And to Him and His son. For their presence, support, and... time, I guess. Ayokong mag-sorry. Sa mga nasaktan (I hope, marami...), na-offend, at hindi ko sinipot (yes, whatever u think). At higit sa lahat, ayokong magsabi ng “ayoko”, so yeah. Kamu nay sabot. =D But seriously, sa lahat nang may hawak at nagbabasa nito - wherever you are, whatever you are doing - from Beyond-the-Wall, to the Great Grass Sea, I offer u DAGHANG SALAMAT. Oh, and one last thing... you may think you’re alone, but you’re not. They stare at you when you sleep, so just be alert. Lock all your windows and doors. Check everything. Double check. And keep your feet inside your blanket at all times; something might grab hold. Oh, and there’s probably something in your closet...
GRATITUDE --akosiePoi
.....................................................................................................
GOD: Great is Thy Faithfulness. Family: I Love you and Thank You.TLRCFWC: You are a Blessing.6DIAMOND,OSD,ECE FRIENDS: Thanks a lot! The Trailblazer: Good Game!John,R ej,Michael,Jess,Rubz,Jhon,Lux,Xyra,Alyssa,Luigi,Jericho: I still remember you, thank you guys. SCIIT & The Host: It’s a joy working with you all.Dr.Cuasito, Engr.Pimentel,Engr.Lester Agum and Engr. Salvaña: Thank you for molding our batch to be the best future plant mechanics. EMT Friends: Truly we are a family. EMT4:Congratulations and God bless you!MARIA CARLA CHRISTINE VICTORIA ERQUITA,ROSSANO SAQUILAYAN III,RANDY CABUNOC,JOKSAN JOHN GALLETO: I will not endure this semester without you.Thank you!Rob,Almar,KenPabs,Karen,Al john and Haidee: We fought and we succeed. Kalmado!Tashia:BABEbibobu☺ LAARNI T.BALQ UIN,IVY,JERECHO,NATASHA,JAY-R,ARIANNE,MAQUI,MEL,KRISHA,RUSSEL,WENDY,JKAI,C YNDY,IMEY,CHUY,RACHO,KEVIN,UTA,ZEPH,MAX,PEANN,JAN2X,BAN2X,MAU2X,JAYCEL,N OVY,LOKI,JUBERN,ABELLA,IAN,DUDAY,JOYCE,SARAH,PRE,TOL,KENT CARTAGENA,CHARM,DADAY,GEN,SHEILA,KATRIN,HONEY,DAISY,JOY,PARDZ,JUVERT,BEL-IDA: College life is fun with all of you. :D THANK YOU!
missionNiJayMiguelAlacha ..................................................................................................... Thank You. The Trailblazer
F.S.Lewl ..................................................................................................... from the heart of Tartarus (hi kuya jep..haha)... I wanna say thanks to those demigods and mundanes who backed me up in my wonderful quest. (wahaha!!) seriuosly.. thanks to my family, friends, blockmates (nga pakalimot usahay) and of course to God whom I owe everything.. ☺
-hataki_viruz-
Mother Theresa once said, “It’s not how much we give, but how much love we put into giving”. May the stories behind this year’s Reflections warm your hearts, make you realize that you are undoubtedly unique as you’re carefully molded by the hands of God, and that you’re just simply worth melting for. Thank you so much. Hopefully, this will be my last (fingers-crossed) P.S Read not because you paid, you paid because you want to read ;) (evil grin) John+Nhoj Ebabacol
..................................................................................................... Engrossed or not, many thanks for having the audacity to flip the pages. Dare not to throw. You paid for it. ;) Alyssa C. Clenuar
..................................................................................................... I have been in this publication for 3 and a half year now. I’ve experienced all the ups and downs that this family have been through. This may be my last hit but I have been so thankful and blessed to be part of such a wonderful circle. I will always be proud to say that I am a writer and an editor in this pub. And honestly, I have the cursed position here (ingon nila) because it’s never easy handling thousands of money na dili raba jud akoa.Lami i-shopping galore!.HAHAHA.. Thank you MY TRAILBLAZER FAMILY for trusting me to be your MONEY-ging Editor for 4sems. (gesh *_*insert my haggard face here*:) No more ers! Salamuch to my Mama & Papa for the everyday love, care, kasaba and baons.Makabusog ang gugma samot na ang balon.HAHAHA. To Kuya Efren for the tuition (haha:-) and for being the most supportive brother ever..and to my only sister for the undying arguments, Iloveyou, still. To my brother-bestfriend-boyfee,Khen,you’re the best!Iloveyou To my Information Technology pips, My RAWRzz (KarenGuibone-AldeSabidoVinceMendiola-JonathanLaput-RonnieRamirez-BertwinRomero), Trail Beaches , BSIT4thyr (daghan kaayo mo para imention.HAHA), MADAMS(BabingRivera,KarrenJalog,KristalBatino,LeaBe rigay –ILOVEYOU, gurls!), my Lumbia Batchmates’07,my friends from A to Z, cousins, hahaha. wala lang, giapil2 ra tamo diri. To the most supportive thesis adviser, Ma’am Marylene Eder, Thank you, ma’am Ma’am Maris Sy—Thank you so much pud, ma’am MUST, my forever love To someone up there, My Number 1. Lord, kabalo naka. Thank you for everything! See you soon, fans! HAHAHA.
GRATITUDE --Money-ging Editor, Juicy Jean Reyes--
..................................................................................................... Katniss speaking... Thanks to... Otakus! Hello MSAO friends(Christy,Jm,Gay,Vets,Van, Ivannah,Jezer,Samo);YABSociety hi! To my batchmates in elementary and high school [Edison,Corinths,Sapphires] To my friendster, Jade(d’ inhinyero). I can smell the scent of graduation! To my SUMMIT’13 mates – TeampleRun, congrats! To LEADS’13 – Lastikman! Good play heroes! Serve righteously ☺ To my K2 beauties(u-know-hu-u-are), thesismates, newscasting bros, DocuTeam and all my friends and kakilalaz within ze boundary of MUST. Esp. Ab.Ab(Paula, Kaj, Markee-lou) To my kid, Katrena, mom loves you! To my Trail beaches, weirdoos, hush-hush, to Ma’am Sy, xoxo <3 beaches’ graduation :( P.S to you my NEW friend (better-know-hu-u-are) tnx for the treat last year. Guess? To my beautiful mom for ze love, to my papa for ze care, and to my angels Rap, Ronnie Jr., Plong, love-love-love from ate Bemz. To my God, my Lord, I love you so much. I claim your presence Lord. Let your peace reign. psst! (1095 days ago but still ... d’ memories are priceless) p.s. one entry for this reflections, we were hindered to write! peace chairspersons :) “...be the good girl you always had to be, conceal don’t feel, don’t let them know...” ~May the odds be ever in your favor.Jeez~ ~Sayonara~ 1 Corinthians 13:4-7
-Novienbem-
QUOTE (ABOUT WEIRD ENDINGS)
“The world here is running in reverse. You start out from the dead and end up as an infant. Basically, you won’t die, but you will leave this world as dust. You will just disintegrate.” “But how does this help me solve Case 66?” you.”
“Come on Agent. Can’t you see? Haven’t you realized? Look around
Astrid then understood that she was looking at the same people she met in her life. “The world is turning here from future to past,” she uttered. After the freak conversation, what the thing in Astrid’s mind was to find the subject in Case 66. But how? In this endless graveyard, how can she find that person? She was deep in thought when the noise from another coffin made her jump to her feet. As the skeleton took form, she became even more scared. It was the victim in Case 66. Adding to the terror she felt was the burnt face of the girl. As she followed the subject, the scenery shifted from one to another so fast. She realized that it was the night before they found the victim in Case 66. Then her vision got hazy. When she woke up, she was already in an abandoned warehouse. She sneaked up towards a corner to see what had happened to the victim. She saw a few armed people, poured some liquid on the girl. She was screaming in pain, but instead of dying, her face changed back into normal. The burns were also gone.
“Now do you know who that girl is, Agent?”
“NO! NO! NO! Don’t tell me…”
“Yes, Agent!”
“W-who are you?”
“Who I am is not important. The important thing is you now know who SHE is.” The man vanished, leaving Astrid with the file folder of Case 66 in her hand. She trembled as she reluctantly opened the folder. CASE 66 Victim: Astrid Beacon Cause of Death: Severe acid burns on head and face; massive blood loss due to abdominal gunshot wound
hataki_viruz
“What do we have here?”
“One body of a female, officer. Identity, unknown. Face, totally damaged due to burns. Single shot at abdominal area.” “Ok. Take that body for the autopsy and take samples as well for further tests.” “Roger.” Astrid Beacon, the head forensic chemist of Task Force Python has been used to this kind of exchange of lines. Almost every week in three years, she faces the same scenario. However, her latest case gave her so much discomfort. She doesn’t know why but something is telling her that something’s wrong. As she was studying the recent victim, a voice spoke to her.
“Agent, so far so good!”
Confused as she was, Astrid turned to the direction of the voice. “Who are you?” “Do you want to know who that girl is?”
“What do you mean?”
That man snapped his fingers and Astrid found herself in a vast cemetery. She froze still with the dreadful sight. The opened graves caught her attention. The place gave her a cold tinge in the spine. She was about to run when the same voice spoke. “There is no way you can run, Agent.”
“Hey!!!” But her voice just echoed in the silence of the place.
A moment later, she heard a creaking sound from one of the pits. She quickly hid and watched in horror as the dead rose and came out of the coffin. She was terrified when the skeleton transformed into a living human, perfectly complete, as if it had just awakened from its deep slumber. She followed him. On their way, more dead rose from their graves. She was so petrified that she didn’t realize that the man she was following had turned into a teen-age guy.
“What’s happening?” she muttered.
Disfigured Beauty orejet
I am beauty Created for everyone to see Donned in silks and jewels Immuned to the awe of many. I am beauty Gifted with locks of fire Voiced soothing as night Complexion fair as ivory.
poem 18
I am beauty They give me security They let me travel the places Their satisfaction is my life.
I am disfigured Fated to be an attraction Shackled at the hands and feet Bounded by ridicule and mockery. I am disfigured Cured with a horrid physique Backbone bent to the ground A hint of coccyx from behind. I am disfigured They locked me in cage They paraded me with spectacles Their greed was my death. I lust for liberation An ended to this spotlight of shame Freed from all constraints As I breathed in the life Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve been imagining.
Christine Joy C. Baang
Drops of sweat are falling from the sides of our forehead just as our hands are slowly getting colder. Heartbeats are pounding faster so with our pulse. Chills are running down our spine making us shiver and the urge to run becomes a need. Your mind is quite preoccupied thinking of some ways out. These are just few responses of your consciousness toward your fears. That tremendous and intensified fear is PHOBIA. A certain person out there is extremely afraid of confined spaces. Others are terrified just by being in a crowd. Some don’t even have the slightest bit of courage in the dark. One cannot withstand the loud violent roar of thunder. Be it an animal, a thing, a situation or an entity, fear can be very devouring. Each of us got these unique fears we avoid. We swore to go through distant extents just to get away from our fears’ grasp. How on earth could we hide from what we fear for forever? It’s like an incurable disease we were so dedicated to have it healed and just walked like we weren’t once a coward. Not once did we ever consider fighting it but even if we did, we ended up running. We would then think that if only, if only we can just get that cursed fear out of our DNAs then everything would really be perfect. We’ll get to live a life with nothing much to worry about. We can even face and dare to cross a street with hundreds of snake in it for all we’ll care is to reach the top of Eiffel tower looking down and standing in the midst of the dessert even with the deafening thunder’s howl.
ESSAY 4
We must accept though, that a world without fear just doesn’t exist. We all have fears and some are just lucky enough not to have that extreme and severe fear of something apart from those who were. Fear is just a proof and an observable evidence that man is not perfect to begin with. The terror we get to feel and can’t be denied will wake us up and let us realize that we are not invincible. We’ve got flaws and imperfections simply because we’re just humans. And human beings don’t possess perfection. We live our daily lives and slowly discover what that distinct fear do we own or we’ll get to accumulate in the future. Some phobias are even born from traumatic events we had experienced. No one has the right to judge you and make you face your fears upfront but we should always remember that running away won’t do us any good either. Leaving behind what we’re scared of is just a temporary relief but never a cure. It’s best to compare that fear with a debt. We can always run away from it but someday you really have to pay. Maybe you can start with a resolution and tell yourself that you need to have a strong will. Exposure may let you get used to it if not comfortable. Really, no one’s going to help you but yourself. Grow up and realize what you must face.
ARTWORK 13
Beautiful -angel-
I walk around and see them strut everywhere Their beautiful faces linger in the hallways These men take attention and inadvertent stare Leaving in their stride a few disgruntled girls’ fray. I, for one, fell for the atrocities of their beauty; Stared at them and fervently hoped for their attention. Alas! The truth I had not known truly, That they penchant the same orientation. Such a waste of those angelic faces, When their hearts beat for each other alone These men who makes girls’ hearts race Races and beats for their kind alone. Now, I know why these men walk together And secretly wish their fingers would intertwine freely How I wish I have known better When I broke my heart for something trivially silly.
POEM 17Saturn with A Missing Ring orejet
A portrait of Saturn with a missing ring A love of hope, a love of dream I long for my ring, I want to scream O Saturn! What a perfectly imperfect thing. Would you just snooze and do nothing? A scar of blue, a shadow of grey My heart calls for another cliché’ I’ll seek for that ring With fire and passion To fill this incompleteness I’m enduring So watch out you, culprit Because I’ll be up beaming Then there will be no more portrait Of Saturn’s ring missing But there will be more Like Saturn with a missing ring.
is the same with mine. In that manner, we were paying forward the kindness that we received. We didn’t mind the holidays we were there for them. Through trauma and stress healing sessions we have been able to witness some of the many media workers who were also affected by the typhoon, “like you, I have also experienced such devastation,” I said. “Like you, I know these (experiences) you will overcome.” Humid and grim, The night awaits, Lights are seldom; It penetrates, Inhale. Exhale. Relax. After four days or so, we left, but it was not a good bye, but rather a hope since as human as we are, we will see a resurrection and hopefully it was for the better. I would like to thank the people who have heard me in extending help for them: Aesthetikos: The Film and Literature Society of Mindanao University of Science and Technology, The Department of Technology Communication Management, specially the third year sections. My friends like Louis Carlo Lim, Marienel Anne Adame-Catiben, Sir Jerry Orcullo, and my relatives like my cousin Charlie Luczon-Daroy.
SHORT 7 pg.2
Above all else to the people of Peace and Conflict Journalism Network (Pecojon), Len Manriquez, Charlie Saceda, Karlon Rama, and Joy for letting me witness firsthand the unfolding events that took place that time. And of course, to Matthias Witzel and Dr. Sarah Monz who generously shared their time and own expenses just to conduct psychotherapy sessions for the affected journalists and media personnel. Yes, it might look like an acknowledgement page, but thanking them is never enough. And as we come to an end: The sun rises, Beginnings anew; To rise but not falter, To wither not but steady; Resilient. Defined. Closure. (Nef Luczon is a part-time instructor of this University teaching major courses for the Department of Technology Communication Management, and at the same time, he is currently working as freelance journalist, an award-winning filmmaker and multi-skilled artist.)
Nef Luczon Pale is such brightness, Round about remorse; In desolation manifests, A rhythm of disdain; Racked up, Shattered, Calmed. The image can only be described in the mind; the soil was like a dead poetry and a road trip yearning for salvation that slowly sucked from the vacuum is what was ahead. The consolation was seeing sun rays piercing the dark clouds toward the houses, mostly roofless, and the picturesque mountain adorned by broken trees was its back drop. Nature had its way, most probably, and we as fragile humans need to be reminded that we can be broken in a simple whisper of the winds and trickles of water into our skins. The humming of the engine did not defy the echoing views on the streets, from town to town, as the vehicle delivered us as if it was a procession of the dead.
SHORT 7 pg.1
We feel sorry, we canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t do so much. The tales we heard and saw from the distance were trifles compared to what is tangible when you see them. You frowned, you wondered, or can you ever be on your feet again? Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s something only the cosmos can tell, in the mean time; there are still many things to do. In your bosom have swam, Slaughters the innocence; It had possessed none, But the broken hymns; Battered. Confused. Healed. It was the forty-eighth day, a day after Christmas when we stepped Leyte for the first time. Sadly, the first musings of its towns and cities had to be in the height of turmoil and patching up the holes and tying loose ends after it was unceremoniously wreaked by supertyphoon Yolanda (Haiyan). For what was given and blessed to us after the storm Sendong (Washi) thatNef alsoLuczon demolished our properties, it was a personal choice to at least be physically present to be with residents, especially those whose line of work
ARTWORK 12
Before I Go To Sleep -Bitterness.Returns17-
Make me a grave beyond the rolling hills, Lay my body there to rest, Appease my spirit that it may find peace, And seek to erase me from your world. As fragments of my soul are scattered in Elysium Away from the grasp of Betrüger, Hope’s strands are within my reach, Yet I turn away in revulsion.
POEM 16
My salvation lies not in reconciliation, I labour not to forgive and forget, Your existence is miasma to my lungs, And I don’t need your pity.
The tragedy you remember has faded Thankfully I no longer exist Now as Death embraces me in her arms It feels more loving than yours ever was.
Brutal Kindness Jessa Krista C. Cambangay
My heart was yelling out of a hollow Brought by this brutal kindness Of letting a hand removed the arrow Secured me like a fortress.
Beautifully Odd Roshelle Novie L. Cabrido
I like to see those helping hands In times of great despair, Who aid the needy and feed the greedy, And satisfy demands. I love those devoted angels, In times of illegal dislodge, Who remain true to their words uttered Even if they risk their sacred life. I want to erase those pretentious acts That devoured this hellish place, Aiming to feed their empty name, And publicize their help.
POEM 15 Gabaga nga Ice
I hope to take off those pointless masks, That hide the devils within, Promises that are decaying, Just to win the approval of the brains.
Czarmagne Dominiq L. Sicat
Warm and sweet My mind is now on my feet Burn! Burn! Burn! Watch how my world turns Open your eyes As we start to burn the ice Not cold, not old Not simple, you raise my temple Burning ice, open my mind My world starts to crumble â&#x20AC;&#x153;10 Candles, 15 Horses And one night to make a beautiful end.â&#x20AC;? He says Malignant yet delectable Escape from reality Tenaciously scornful Heavenly ice, You are so lovely
A Betrayal Undeserved -Bitterness.Returns17-
A fire once raged in the chambers of my heart, That glory which once captivated my soul, That light which pierced the darkest depths, Now lies six feet under the place we used to go You poured boiling-hot reality over my head, Now Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m drenched in the tears I shed long ago, For weeks I searched the world for absolution, Now my legs cannot carry my frailty anymore
POEM 14
The broken glass fit perfectly Like puzzle pieces in the cuts on my arms, That diamond necklace hangs from your neck, As you wrap a rope around mine I saw my countless imperfections, I saw the times when we seemed happy, I saw the times when we seemed sincere, But I also saw how I was betrayed My life flashed before my eyes As you slowly disappeared from view, You give me a reason to drop dead: A beautiful, bitter betrayal undesrved
In this Strange Love-Filled Crazy World Maidy19
There’s a wall I cannot break I tried to preserve it for both our sake Restraining thoughts cannot sate my curiosity Is there more to being friends between you and me?
POEM 13
Strange as when the words escaped my lips The line between friends turned to an illusion of mist I walked to you and thought of the garden A place to call my own, looking at my own children But love as strange as it is You’ll end up in pieces by living in a moment’s bliss We ended up with nothing Even friendship was pushed in the edge of fading How I wish I could draw back the line And pretend I haven’t liked you all this time Pretend I never said those words In this strange love filled crazy world.
Disclaimer: Just so we be clear, I wrote this during a rainy lunchtime on a damp piece of paper, all the while listening to weather broadcasts. The rain is envious of the sun’s radiance. He wouldn’t stop pouring and his wrath seems unstoppable. My small umbrella with a faded rose donned on it wouldn’t even dare to fight because it got holed right in the middle during Yolanda in Cebu. The Northeast monsoon is being grumpy as usual – giving me headaches and a shamefully runny nose, plashing muck on my 3-year-relationship old Chucks, and frequenting unsolicited cramps on my feet and fingers. Ass is heavier than before because bed gravity is stronger this time. Mosquitoes have temporarily stopped buzzing but I am still vigilant while I hold my electric racket bought at Kaking. I describe to you my situation right now because there is no better introduction than telling you my status. The rain drips through the moistened ceiling to my KFC bucket. But I also tell you that I, by far, from the roster of writers in the Publication, have the worst introduction. I also happen to have a lack of touch on Literature and creativity of words; sometimes my plain jane can be really obvious in the way I write as it goes straight and no prancing on adverbs and adjectives will be done. Just three years ago, I’ve submitted a poem in The Reflections hoping that the guy who I have loved, more than anyone and anything, would notice me in the agonizing pain I’ve been going through. It wasn’t for the readers but for a particular reader. Just like people who experience so much of being heartbroken, I almost cut my wrist to end the swarming of what if’s and sayang’s running inside my head. Sometimes, my heart palpitates in the middle of a boring discussion on numbers that’d caused me to hyperventilate, and some friends get freaked-out by this unusuality. And it went on for several months. I saw love with him eternal and was willing to give in to tying knots with him. He was insane, I was much more insane. He was fun, I wasn’t. But still, I am today. The love was more than just a tinge, or was it a love developed? Not even close. It was love when conversations went on for months. It was love when realizing cuddling was better than skin to skin. It was love when hugs and kisses can overshadow materialistic gifts. It was love when watching indie movies, the weirder they get, can leave you both perplexed and you decide to laugh at them instead. It was love when you both smoke under a heavy rain. It was love when you guys do not give a f*** what people say about you and it’s just the us-and-the-world syndrome you got there to uphold your relationship. But then all of those, like all things, ended just like that. The rain continues to drip, and the sound of it does not seem to be very relaxing. It’s rain that no coffee can combat the coldness – not even a hot porridge from La Creole. It’s a rain that leaves you wishing you bought two comforters instead of one in a cheap market, and the mere thought is making you throw tantrums. It’s rain where people on the radio exaggerate saying it’s a storm surge, and the TV says it’s just a low pressure area and there’s nothing to fret about. It’s rain where people on Facebook announce that classes will continue in spite of the tidal waves along Recto Avenue, and those on Twitter complain that their Havaianas are muddy. But everytime it rains, it makes me think a lot – more than ever. I abhor rains because they’re constraining my pile of work on an 8-hour deadline. But it is the only time my brain starts to function well. What I mean with “well” is, that I get to think more exciting or mundane things. I don’t have a good memory bank, but it sure works well on wet seasons. The rain is on its onomatopoeia as it “clangs” and “plops” on the bucket. I write on this damp paper with enthusiasm and my notebooks are just inches away. This write-up is just like any other emo-cut-wrist story, only that the author is either sluggish to cut her wrist or to find a 2-peso blade. She also thinks her insurance is not enough for a suite in the hospital with a good cable TV on. This is the love story I remember every time it rains. And soon enough, I’ll have another love story to remember when the rain starts to drip through the moistened ceiling to my KFC bucket.
ESSAY 3
ARTWORK 10
Naalala ko rin yung panahong nakipag-away ako sa lupon ng mga asong nang-aagaw ng pagkain ng baboy namin, ang pakikipagtagisan ko ng lakas para mapatumba ang dambuhalang biik ni Aling Bebang, ang pakikipaghabulan ko sa pinaka-mabilis na pusa na ang pangalan ay â&#x20AC;&#x153;Mimingâ&#x20AC;? na nagnakaw ng isda na ulam sana namin. Nagamit ko na rin yung laser at x-ray vision eyes ko habang sinosolb ang midterm exam ng masamang tao na si Prof. Voldemort at naging invisible na rin ako noong hinahabol ako ng mga masasamang loob na nagsasabing may utang daw ako. Lahat ng itoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;y pagsubok sa pagiging superhero ko. At gaya ng mga iba pang super-hero, may mortal enemy din ako. Siya ay si Captain Hirap. Isang araw, habang natutulog ako, bigla na lang siyang dumating. Sinugod at sinunggaban nya ako ng walang kamalaymalay. Dahil sa ginawa niya, mahigit tatlong buwan akong nangapa sa dilim. Isang beses na lang ako kung kumain sa isang araw. Walang mainom na tubig at punit-punit ang aking damit. Namalayan ko na lang na hindi lang pala ako ang naghihirap, pati rin pala ang mga mahal ko sa buhay. Dumating din ako sa puntong kinailangan kong iwasan at layuan ang pinakamamahal kong babae para hindi na siya madamay at masaktan. Nanghina ako sa ginawa ni Captain Hirap. Parang kryptonite ang sinaksak niya sa akin. Bigla siyang nawala pagkatapos nang tirahin niya ako sa buo kong katawan. Iyon ang akala ko, pero mali pala. Yung huling tira niya ay sa sikmura ko na labis ang idinulot na sakit sa akin. Ibinuhos ko ang lahat ng aking lakas hanggang sa mawalan ako ng malay.
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Nagising ako sa kumakalam kong tiyan. Hindi pa pala ako kumakain ng agahan at tanghalian. Hindi pala totoo ang lahat, hindi pala totoo na superhero ako. Isa lang ang totoo, si Captain Hirap na kahit hanggang ngayon ay nilalabanan ko sa normal kong buhay bilang si Toto na isang hamak na pedikab drayber lamang.
Alvin M. Edio
( Hango sa buhay ng hindi mo kakilala) Lahat tayo ay may mga pangarap sa buhay na pilit nating inaabot. Libre lang kasi ang mangarap, walang bayad. Humiling ka lang at wag kang mapagod at magsikap hanggang sa walang hanggan. Ako si Toto, simpleng tao na may simpleng pangarap: ang maging super-hero. 18 anyos na ako, 1st year student sa kolehiyo. Siguro 4th year student na ako o malamang gumraduate na kung hindi ko lang sana pinorsige ang pagiging superhero ko. Sabi nga nila, “with great power comes great responsibilities”.
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Siyempre, may tawag din ako sa sarili ko gaya ng ibang superhero. Ang tawag ko sa sarili ko ay Super Simple”. Lakas ng dating, diba? Gusto ko sana “Super Toto” pero parang ang bastos pakinggan, parang iniihian lang, kaya super simple na lang. Simpleng tao lang naman kasi talaga ako. Araw-araw pumapasok ako sa skul ng nakalimousine, may isang libong perang baon kada araw, may bag na Gucci, Penshoppe na t-shirt, Levis na pantalon at Converse na sapatos ( orig siyempre!). Mahirap maging superhero. Inaamin ko, may pagkakataong napilitan akong magligtas ng buhay at tumulong sa mga nangangailangan. Gaya noong tinulungan kong tumawid ang matanda, magwalis ng bakuran ni Lola Nena, magtapon ng basura ng kapitbahay, mag-igib ng tubig at kung anu-ano pa.
Monster
Markee Rey S. Aclao
I was astray She found me. With her I stay Brought her misery. In the stillness of him A secret deep within A monstrosity so dim So dark like a sin. His mentality blackened His alter ego awakened Struggles to stop it Loses his spirit.
POEM 12
All he wanted was affection To give love and protection But caused her destruction Innocence murdured by damnation.
He wanted to stay But when emotions started to play The monster awakened, broke his chains And turned affection into searing pain.
The Arms of the Ocean June Murcilla
It’s so strong yet so calm and cold in each palm. He can choose who will stay and who will fade away. His mood depends on the sky whether he will pass you by or sink in the earth’s crust and leave you just to rust. But he has the biggest heart doubled the size of his fist that when you’re under his cradle you will be in great feast. When the arms of the ocean will abuse his great cerulean dazzles with so much blue but he destroys without any clue.
Infidelity didn’t stop us though. It was the
people around us with their dumb minds. They had been trying to affect everything we have, everything we do and every decision we make. She wasn’t weak in fact, she fought for me, she fought for us. I was the one who became weak. My friends and parents were all against us. They were all against the relationship we had, thus, causing us to part ways. Since I lost her, I was no longer living for myself but for the others. I cared about what others thought about me and my actions and I was clearly starting to neglect my happiness. Years passed and here I am now. A loner, a short term relationship partner, a nobody.
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But like what the lyrics of the song says, “…there
can be miracles, when you believe…” she found me again. I am now a grown-up, and I am responsible for every action I make. But that really isn’t my point. For four years, I have been longing for her touch, her love and her existence. No other man or woman can provide me such tender loving arms that I can run to when I am scared. They could never make me feel so secure even when the world is changing, but her. I could never feel complete without her and I know she feels the same way, too. Here I am, wanting her over and over again. There she is, standing right in front of me, reaching out of my hand.
And there they are with their big mouths and dumb minds, trying to
forbid another story again. I am single, she is too. This is the right time. I would no longer hide under my blanket and cry. I am going to take her hand and run away. Not until I will stop caring about what others think, I will never be happy. Now is the time. Not later but today. I feel infinite, that’s all I want to consider right now. I will take the chance to tread this path, I don’t want to keep wondering; I want to stop asking. I want to find the answer. I will find the answer.
This is my life now. Pathetic I may be in your eyes, but I know I will
be happy for her. Prove me that equality can exist. I want to experience it. By the way, my name is April… and this is my love story.
Junella Therese B. Espejon
Just like every love story, mine also has
its ups and downs. I met different people, fell in love and thought that they’d be my last. Sad to say, none of those relationships lasted. I started thinking that maybe, something is wrong with me – until she came.
Four years ago, I could clearly remember. She
SHORT 5 pg.1
wasn’t really the “oh-boy-this-girl-is-hot” type but that didn’t make her too different from others. In fact, many liked her, including me. Luckily, I got her phone number from a friend who was starting to like her too. I texted her and she said “hi” and that’s how it all started.
It was late June when we became friends. I was looking forward for
each day to come; since she came, everything became exciting and fun. I couldn’t stand not texting and calling her every day and we would laugh quietly every night and would try to keep our voices really low because we weren’t allowed to use our phone after eight in the evening.
We made each day special and we knew back then that we were meant
for each other. But the thing is, we forgot that we were both committed. Yes, I had a girlfriend that time who happened to be so busy and totally forgot about me, about us. I guess you couldn’t blame me looking for another one then. On the other hand, she was also having an affair with someone who also can’t find time for her. It must be destiny, I thought. Two lonely people who met on that same narrow road who unexpectedly fell in love even when the timing wasn’t right. That’s us.
When You’re Alone But Not Alone Rocylier
When you’re alone Making homeworks and assignments late at night But not alone Because somebody watches you while you write
POEM 11
When you’re alone In the bathroom, taking a bath in a dim light But not alone Because there’s someone turning on and off of the light When you’re alone Walking on the streets on a solemn and peaceful place But not alone Because someone behind you is following your mace
When you’re alone Still awake at three AM in a silent atmosphere But not alone Because demons are around you that you might see or hear.
ARTWORK 8
ARTWORK 7
Midnight Clown Christine Joy C. Baang
Tik tok, Tik tok Whispered the clock It was midnight when I woke up The room in silence, that was wrapped.
POEM 10
I checked the baby sister in her room And found the birthday present she had with bloom, Sitting beside her, a life-sized doll clown, Of its presence I could only frown. What a peculiar thing it was, Just by looking, it gave you the creeps I just noticed one thing though, For a clown its smile didn’t show I walked out her door and went to the kitchen Searched a glass of water all of a sudden All along I had this feeling That someone out there was looking. After a minute or two I heard footsteps out of the blue Then in the dark, a figure was lurking Oh! Thank God it was just my little sister yawning. What she said tickled me “Sis, come with me ‘coz I want to pee” My baby sister seemed very scared I assured her she had nothing to be feared. We made our way to her bedroom after Helped her to sleep for her to get over I was just about to cover her with a blanket When I happened to glance a little bit I looked at Mr. Clown for awhile His new expression chilled my spine Unlike before he wasn’t smiling For now he looks at me smirking.
from his chains. I would cry every night just so somebody would hear me and rescue me from him. That bastard! He used to do things I adored. He used to kiss me with those warm lips of his. He used to make me happy as if I were the only woman he’d ever loved. Then, the tables turned. He started to exchange flesh with someone else. He started to play with desire and lust with a person I do not know. Was it my fault? Was I not pretty enough? Was my hair not shiny enough? Did my eyes lose its shine? Obviously, I did. If I didn’t, then he wouldn’t have done all those hurtful things. Or maybe he was just a big jerk that I never thought he was. That bastard! Not only that he became a jerk, he also became a cold blooded monster. Every night would not be complete if he hasn’t given me a slap on the face or a bleeding ear and most of all a scarred heart. We were meant for each other. A barbaric man and his lady who would endure all the pain he would throw at her.
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That soulless bastard! He turned me into what he was. I became heartless. I became nothing more than a walking body of emptiness. Numb to pain and joy. My eyes were dead as the night. I am now insensitive to all the things that surround me. Love became an illusion and nothing more than a piece of trash. Now, what I long for is the brain, the intelligence of a person and not the useless figment of the mind that is love. The heart is nothing but a mere muscle that pumps blood. Nothing more nor was it an instrument for feelings. I WAS AND AM THE SOULLESS BASTARD. I did this to myself. My own zombie devoured me, hurt me, and killed the living inside of me. If I had escaped and found the cure, I would have been warm and perceptive. But I am not sorry for what I have done to myself. I became stronger, faster, and unsympathetic. Now, I’m alone, left bruises on my skin and the taste of blood in my mouth. Not mine, but the blood of my victims.
Dea Rhea S. Hittings
Eerie. Painless. Unfeeling. Cold. DEAD.
T’was the month of September. I can no longer feel the love I used to feel nor the warmth of his touch. That bastard, he kept me prison for almost a year now. I’m lying on the cold floor, left with no luxury at all. Just the bruises he left on my skin and the touch of blood on my mouth. I never thought that he’d turn into a horrible monster. After all the promises he made. An undying love which he said would last forever. “Forever” was an overrated word that he used to lure me in his void of hate. There are so many things I would give up to escape
Unusual
alvin_cheapmonk
I am not odd; I am just beyond the unusual And I prefer you would call me peculiar. I may not speak properly but I can understand. You don’t have to repeat the word over and over again; I can move, you don’t have to accompany me. Only that my world is slow and that’s my reality Unlike you, I don’t keep my feelings I cry out loud when someone hurts my feelings Like you, I always wanted to play But my body always wanted to lay Like you, I wanted to go to school But everybody looks at me like I’m a fool I don’t want you to feel pity on me I am doing my best to compensate, just wait and see I am not abnormal; I am just beyond the unusual I am a human doing my best to be equal.
POEM 9
Thief in the Night Emmanuela A. Lague
We watched movies together; We laughed, cried, and consoled Each other, everyday I really loved those moments. As far as I could remember My first glimpse of you Was in a motor cycle I was really blown away by your figure, boy. We became good friends We laughed, listened, and yelled to the world See, we were together a while ago And God took you away from me. I really can’t accept How the world plays I don’t know if I can still laugh, listen, and yell To the world with an open heart.
ARTWORK 6
I consider my daughter as a gift from God. She got everything from her mother. Her eyes, the shape of her lips and her gaits and posture. When she turned eight, she looked like the little version of Jessica. I became even fonder of her since then. Her little ways of giving me happiness made up for her mother’s indifference. It pleased me to hear her say “Papa, I love you” every morning when she wakes up and every evening before she sleeps. One late November afternoon, my mom asked me what was holding me back from sending Chloe to school. She argued that it would be the best for Chloe to go to formal schooling and socialize with other school children aside from the kids in the neighborhood. She lectured me with so many blah-blahs of the importance of school as if she’s a pro-children advocate and not the alligator of a business woman she became. We had a little fight over that. It’s a good thing that she’s not the nagging type. I’m still Chloe’s father and I know what’s best for my child. She didn’t contest that further and left the room. Months went by and Chloe became my best friend. We played chess together, computer games, and even dolls. I was in love with her and she with me. And if I may say, she was more passionate. Later on, she learned to keep secrets between the two of us. The next thing I know is that she’s acting a little strange. I guess it was her ninth year when I asked her to go a movie house but she declined. It was the very first time she turned down anything from me. But I let it pass though. When I got home later one night, I was welcomed by the silence of the house. It was different, I could feel it. I got into the house and called for her but I didn’t get a reply. I was panicky as I was searching every corner of the house. She really scared the hell out of me. And I thought she was just fooling around and that she must have been hiding somewhere, outside, around the neighborhood. Delirious with excitement, I hurried past outside the door to give Chloe a dose of her own medicine. I scanned the back of the house while I shouted her name. “Come out, come out wherever you are!” I never knew the swimming pool was there and never knew we had one. She was there, in the water, floating, lifeless.
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I couldn’t make out of the doctor’s diagnosis. It said that she ingested a bottle of sleeping pills. It was later that evening that mom confessed that the pills belonged to her for her fits of insomnia. A surge of anger came upon me and I did hit her on the face with my fist. From then on, we never talked about Chloe. It isn’t anyone’s fault, but it is only her own doing that killed her. She didn’t even say goodbye or leave any note that may have shed light to what was going on in her head that moment. That enabled me to see something. The realization that girls are such a pain and all they did was to make my life miserable. And just like her mother, she left me clueless of what just went wrong. Tomorrow is the first year of her death. I have no plans nor did I prepare something special. Maybe, I’ll just write a poem for her.
Ar-gie A. Longganay
“What’s your plan for tomorrow?”, my mom surprised me as she prepares for dinner. Her voice reverberated around the house like a ball being volleyed back and forth in a beach. The sound was loud enough to wake me from deep slumber on the sofa. It was rather peculiar, rather uncustomary, for a house to be unfit for celebrations, but deserves funeral wakes. I was no longer sure if I had the words to tell her, as I always am not sure of everything, but I didn’t give my reply. I was counting days and she struck me by that. But it didn’t make me get up easily and I knew all too well she knew I wasn’t sleeping at all. After about an hour, she’s back to pester me. I heard her footsteps coming towards me, halted and a second I felt her warmth at the tips of my hair from where she’s sitting next to me on the big sofa. “It’s been a year since... since Chloe” She touched my hair gently. “Has it really been a year?”, I queried as though I was a child forbidden to know the troubles of adulthood. As she turns from me to go to her room to sleep, I noticed, age devoured her hair. Perhaps, she anticipated another dull moment with her 35 year old son and was tired enough to attempt for any more fruitful discussion.
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Chloe, my daughter, died at the age of nine on All Saint’s Day, at exactly the day when people flock the cemeteries. It was really strange for fate to plan someone’s death when everybody is poignant and are reminiscing the memories of the past they have once shared with an important person in their life. It is even amusing and funny. Chloe was such a sweet girl, just like her mother who left us for reasons I can’t bring myself to believing when she was still a baby. It is given that children, when the time comes, will always ask about their parents who are not there all their life. That gave me a headache and brought some troubles, when she turned five, explaining to her how ill her mother has become after she delivered her and that she died two weeks after. I was grateful to my mother, though, who was there to console Chloe in the three days of her despair upon knowing the false truth about her mother. Until now, I bear the guilt of giving out a lie and regret it. If only I knew such circumstances will ever come, I would have told her. It is still vivid in my memory when she embarrassedly said that she had a crush on an eight year old boy across the neighborhood. She was seven and started to mingle with children her age. I remembered she would write love letters and cry whenever she doesn’t get his attention. She was more than a teenage girl who is beginning to seek some intimate affection from the opposite sex. And that in that way, she resembles her mother, Jessica.
ARTWORK 5
Perfection. It is the state of being in which each and every one of the living class put up to their sleeves to achieving. It is the glorified triumph that invites and lures the totality of an individual, a forbidden jubilation for those who are not necessarily deprived of beauty, but lack the requisite into its admittance. It does, in all respects, set the standards that define our society and pushes it to run extra miles in the fullest of its abilities. Man, as the most important cause from which societies are made, does the attempt, at any rate, to place it on top of his own pedestal as a basis to keep going. On that note, it does not also hurt to accuse him to be the culprit of such notion of a race to perfection. Oftentimes, we would arrive at questions associated with the ego and the surrounding factors. Indeed, we satisfy ourselves through venturing on something to an output of great caliber because we hope to bring in respect from others, especially from those who have, at many times, had the wariness of approach toward us. We have and always wanted to alter the predetermined genetic make-up our parents have handed down to us because we believe that beauty comes from dodging tangible requirements and not the clichéd constant utterance about moral beauty. Also, as a student, one is always fronted with pressures to meet his instructors’ and the school’s standards until graduation cuts him off the frame. But apart from trying to get hold of that precious diploma, is the springing pride for having been to transcend the average mark and for making it to the list of academic royals.
ESSAY 2
At day’s end, truth speaks louder than what fancy we give to the topic attainability of perfection. Just as all of us try to assess our current being and improve those weak points we discover along the way. There are those who insist that such notion is a fallacy. However, it has been said that we can always be perfect in our own special ways and this argument weighs more importance with most, if not all, living things being resolute to following. We can be one, two, or many of our ideal self if an ounce of inspiration is coupled with a pound of perspiration. Even though human, history accounts of how much we contributed to the world. We made technology available and brought everybody closer to each other. By any means of what we have also created, man is now capable of imitating nature. Even the most critical aspect of our composition, emotion, may be accomplished to a more conditioned and stable state like most of the sciences we encounter each day. Conversely, we will never run out of possibilities to reach beyond unfathomable heights. It follows then it should not be the case to say that we can never stand after we fall. There’s no excuse to that for we, as the Bible puts it, are the greatest creation of this world. We are not “only humans of this Earth”, we are “the Humans”.
Ar-gie A. Longganay
Death’s Ribbon Christine Joy C. Baang
A peculiar gift I did not expect I could see a black ribbon around its neck Within that very day It would perish away. I have witnessed many Dying before me I could not save any For that was its destiny.
POEM 8
Every day I walk along the streets I could even hear people’s remaining heartbeats I just can’t warn them I end up being condemned. There was that one moment When my will was bent My dear mama got sick The black ribbon appeared. I tried to save her But death did not waiver My poor beloved mother Taken away by the fault of her daughter Telling anyone that it’s her due Would save her from its cue I just learned it’s not true ‘Coz mama could have been here too My life is a living hell Having this present made me unwell I’m at my farthest limit I can no longer comprehend it I now stand before my mirror Seeing the black ribbon without horror This peculiar gift I did not expect I could see the black ribbon on my neck.
XTRANGER Sam Ortega
Depression is in my heart It hurts like I’ve been hit by a dart Promising myself to stay away from love Being single and free as a dove. People around me are bewildered With different style and undisciplined character Then I saw a girl with rare behavior That I call XTRANGER. Getting to know XTRANGER Makes me stummer Her eyes, smile and voice are always reccuring in my mind It’s like a book that is always being bind.
POEM 7
Again my heart is beating faster Daydreaming and hoping you’ll be my lover Everytime we sit together I feel weariless and frosted bite. Now the time has come for you to listen Standing infront of your knees are chillin’ Telling “I love You” is hard for me to say Fearing after this you will go away.
It’s not easy to break a promise But with your answer I feel catharsis In the dark you are there and you lighten me up An aspiration helps me to stand. We’re struggling life challenges together Always concern about our future I don’t know if you’re my love awakener But you’re always be my XTRANGER. This to you I make Poem of my love you shall take For eternal life this you can bring And one day you can share this to our offspring.
ARTWORK 4
Nice to Meet You Rej Adore
Hi there! My name is Regina Everytime I’m bored, I work with my dilemma The people around me think I’m lokaloka When I act so out of this planet. I sing out loud like I’m in an opera Dance like nobody can see yah Talk as much as kaya Because I believe in this world, no one can control yah Don’t you like my style? I don’t care and I don’t mind Your word is not my command But if you really insist, talk to my hand. Out of the ordinary you need? I represent myself indeed Everyone, please help me feed My wants and desires for me to succeed.
POEM 6 Minesweeper hataki_viruz
Numbers that explode Mines ought to be swept On to the victor’s road They are planted in heap. Beware in your every click Careful not to make mistake An explosion you may pick Everything will be at risk. They say mathematical skills we need But I say everything is just a trick Just learn where to double click Victory is sure ahead.
Seven Years
Zyra Mae Sevilla Inocando
Year 1: I saw unfamiliar faces In a place where I met different races There you are, just too plain For someone like me who wants more than just a pure grain. Year 2: We met and became friends I laughed because of your persistence I said, “You don’t give up easily, do you?” And surprisingly, you told me “I LIKE YOU.” Year3: We talked for hours and hours As if you are claiming that the world is ours “Is this for real?” I asked Because if it is, I wish that this time would not last.
POEM 5
Year 4: Our love flows happily Even our family and friends accept us freely To think that this moment is just temporary I want to say thank you for working it out with me Year 5: Years have passed and I feel something is wrong Deep inside I feel so uneasy I thought that this relationship would prolong But as time goes by, I am already feeling weary.
Year 6: And now the time has come I feel so useless and dumb Through friend, you told me something very clearly But I would appreciate if you could tell me personally. Year 7: February 28, a day of regret A moment which I could not easily forget It made my eyes very wet Because you gave me a flower and you left.
ARTWORK 3
long ago. I should have accepted it even before my existence came to be. But I didn’t. I wanted to see her; even when it’s just a minute longer, I wanted to see her. Time seemed to have slowed down at that time. It was all fate that gave me. I saw the small tear in the corner of her eyes as she gave out yet another beautiful yawn. She was beautiful. My time in the world was only for a mere moment. I enjoyed it and cherished it deeply. As she pulled the trigger, the truth sunk in. Fast. At the flush of the water, I stayed calm. I saw the world move around me; everything white. “Goodbye, cruel world…” As much as I wanted to be with her, I couldn’t. Not for someone like me. And as much as I wanted to make her like me, I couldn’t. All I did was disgust her, but still made me happy enough. My stay will surely be remembered. Not by her, but by me, at least. My little crush ended. Just like that. And I had to disappear with it. I traveled into the wilderness and the deep waters led me to a dark room. It was dirty, much dirtier than her place. I wasn’t bother. Nothing mattered now. Everything was slowly falling in to its rightful place. Days, weeks and months had passed. I was okay, but not the rest of me. My body started to fall apart and drifted into nothingness. I closed my consciousness and waited for my end. I was okay because seeing her was enough. And for a stinky little poop like me, I knew that having a little crush on her was a little out of the ordinary.
Rejane J. Paeste
Even before I saw her, I knew it from inside the walls of my cramped room that I would like her. I would always listen to her as she spoke cheerfully to the people around her. I would always smile and wonder, “Ah, the world is such an unfair place.” It was in an early morning when I finally came out of my shell. It was cold and I enjoyed the warmth of the water. Her hair was still in its morning mess and her eyes were half-awake—obviously still searching for a place to sleep. She gave out a yawn and stood up. She scratched her head and gave out a sigh. I knew from the very start that this wouldn’t last. My little crush on her would probably go by as if it never happened. That won’t happen because I’ve completely gotten over her. This little crush of mine will disappear because I know that I myself wouldn’t last in this vast world. Indeed the world is unfair. It will always be. Just when you thought you found out your feelings for someone completely, you ended up not being able to tell her. Why? It is because of the bitterness of fate. The concept is as simple as that. But the process of being able to accept that is just as hard. For a temporary creature like me, I should have accepted my fate
Never Ever -angel-
I started watching you a year ago A simple hello would have sufficed But, fearing that you would know I settled glancing at your way. I love reading your words on paper Even if it aimed against my posse Who you are does not matter You’re simply showing your truth.
POEM 4
You might have noticed me or not Or dismissed my presence altogether Either way I still find my heart in knots When our eyes meet by chance.
I’ve kept this infatuation for a time I contend myself with watching from afar What I do now is not a crime This truth I hope you’ll never find.
Storm Surge
Jessa Krista C. Cambangay
Blowing winds, shouting menace Of a cursed blessing approaching Alerting the minds to be in haste Be watchful like a lion in hunting.
ARTWORK 2
Alvin M. Edio
Why are there people who close their eyes when their pictures are taken? Why do snakes and worms crawl? Do fishes sleep? Do they close their eyes when sleeping? And why do we close our eyes when sleeping? Have you asked yourself such questions? Weird, aren’t they? When we were young, we asked our elders with never ending, annoying questions and those were considered normal for us at our adolescent age. As we grow older, we keep these strange and weird questions within us and we tend to forget them. But at the same time, these weird and strange things evolve inside of us. We unconsciously show it in different ways; maybe on the way we dress, the way we move, the way we talk or the way we think. When we see a person with an uncombed hair and lipstick on, we might say that, that person is different. When we see a man with tattoos all over his body, but walks and moves like a woman, we might say that man is totally weird. But how could you say a person is different or weird? How well do you know that person? How could you easily judge him by just looking at him? Well, it takes one to know one. Yes, accept it or not, you also have this kind of character, for each one of us is born unique and different.
ESSAY 1
Being different is not a curse. It is a gift. It is the idea that “you can do better more than anyone else” and it will lead you to become a much better person. This weird and strange stuff makes you who you are. This thing completes you of what you are today and what you will be tomorrow. I admit, I am weird and sometimes people around me do not understand the way I think, talk and react on things. But that’s normal, that’s what makes me different from you and I am proud of who I am. I am a dreamer and I do believe that I could change the world by using my hands and my imagination. How about you? What makes you different from anybody else? Have you thought of changing the world too? Have you thought of changing yourself first before changing the world? What will you use to change yourself or the world? Weird questions from a weird guy? Well, it takes one to know one.
Real Talk
alvin_cheapmonk
Sino kang hampaslupang kumimkim ng hindi sa iyo? Anak ka ba ni satanas o ng diyablo? Nag-aanyong tao, nagsasalitang parang tao Pero ang gawain ay sa demonyo! Dakila ka at ikaw ang nangahas, Nang-ahas, nag-angkin at ngayoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;y nasa itaas Sa impyerno, siguro ikaw ang batas Pero hindi dito sa palatuntunang naglabas Ng baho mo at kung sino ka, Ng lahat ng mga gawain mo at lahat ng nakita ng aming mga mata Siguro ay makapaghuhugas ka ng iyong mga kamay Pero lalabas at lalabas din ang iyong totoong kulay! Wala akong pakialam kung saan ka nagmula at kung sino ka, Kung anak ka ng presidente, senador, leader, teacher at kahit na sino pa! Huwag mo akong takutin at pandilatan ng iyong mga mata! May hawak akong icepick baka tusukin kita sa mata. Sinabi mong wala kang kinalaman sa lahat ng nangyari, Pero bakit ang lahat ng dokumento ay nakapangalan saâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;yo, anyare? Ang lakas pa ng loob mong magdemanda At sabihing wala kang alam at ikaw ay inosente Gago ka! Walang hiya at walang kwenta! Sana pag tae mo, ma-flush ka sa kubeta! Sabihin nating nakapagtapos ka sa kolehiyo at akoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;y hamak na estudyante lang Pero ang tanong ko, ang pinag-aralan mo ba ay ang manlamang Ng kapwa at ng kababayan mo? Ay! Mali! Hindi ka pala tao! Sa huling sandali, bibigyan kita ng pagkakataong tumawa Dahil mamaya, bukas kakarmahin ka! Sana magsisi ka sa lahat ng kabulastugang ginawa mo Baka bumalik si Yolanda at bagyuhin ang buhay mo! Sana ikaw na lang ang naghirap at hindi ang taga Tacloban Para ang kawalan, hirap, sakit at pighati ay iyong maranasan!
POEM 3
Time!
And Yet... Poi Quinz
Bombs fall, then huge explosions; The thunderous roar of guns surround us Abhorrent cries as bullets rip through flesh And yet, why are we deaf to these?
Dream
Markee Rey S. Aclao
Out of this world My mind’s own creation Vission half blurred But feeling full sensation
Hungry children, paper-thin Poachers prance around in animal skin Defiled waters and receding forests And yet, why do we act blind? Neighbors abuse their own children Illegal drugs and money exchanging hands Corruption, greed, and politics unite And yet, why have we muted ourselves?
POEM 2
Call me a coward This is my escape In the world I am a bastard In here I hold my fate
The limit is my imagination Everything is my decision In here, I’m unstoppable There is nothing I am not able. Don’t render consciousness As I doze off in reality Because all I want is to be here in this fantasy No limit, no border; No worries No fear My eternal slumber.
Oh, the ironies of life! Everyone complains ‘bout something And yet... do we really care? Do we even care?
Ngayon, pinapanood ko ang sarili ko na kausap sa Mrs. Sanchez. “Ma,” sabi ng katawan ko, sa boses ni Gilbert, ang may-ari at nagpahatid ng singsing. Napagtanto ni Mrs. Sanchez na kausap na niya si Gilbert, at doon na siya umiiyak na yumakap sa akin (I mean, sa katawan ko). Yumakap din si Gilbert. “Mahal na mahal namin kayo ni Marlene, tandaan niyo ‘yan. At kahit wala na kami dito sa mundo, hinding-hindi kami mawawala sa piling niyo”, sabi ni Gilbert. Doon din ay naramdaman ko nang hinihila ako pabalik ng katawan ko. It’s time to go back! Namulat akong nakayakap kay Mrs. Sanchez. Dahan-dahan niya akong binitawan nang mapagtanto niyang hindi na si Gilbert ang kayakap niya. Lumapit ang dalaga dala ang bata. Sana lang alam niyang hindi ako ang yumakap kay Mrs. Sanchez, kundi si Gilbert. “Tinupad niya . . . tinupad niya ang pangako niya, Lisa,” sabi ni Mrs. Sanchez. “Gilbert,” bulong niya sa hangin, “kung nasaan man kayo ni Marlene, anak, maraming salamat. Mahal na mahal ko rin kayo, anak. Mahal na mahal . . .” sabi niya habang humihikbi.
Habang pinapatahan ni Lisa si Mrs. Sanchez, nagpaalam akong uuwi na.
“Teka lang, hijo. Ano nga bang pangalan mo?” tanong ng ginang habang pinupunasan ang mga luha niya. “Angelo po. At wag po kayong mag-alala, wala naman ho akong hinihinging kapalit,” sabi ko sabay talikod. “Teka,” tawag ni Lisa. Maganda siya, maputi, at kasing-edad ko lang din, pero out-of-topic na ‘yan. “Pakisabi naman kay Papa na salamat, at mahal na mahal ko rin siya.” “Makakarating,” sabi ko, sabay ngiti (disclaimer: hindi ako nagpa-cute kay Lisa, sincere po ang smile na iyon). Nagpasalamat sa akin ang matanda, at nag-offer pang sa kanila na lang daw ako magpalipas ng gabi. Tempting man (chance ko na rin kasi ‘yung makilala si Lisa),sinabi ko na lang sa kanila na maaga pa ako sa paaralan bukas at malapit lang rin naman ang bahay ko, kaya hinayaan na rin nila akong umalis. Nakaka-ilang hakbang pa lang ako ay may nakasalubong na ako sa daan. Isang middle-aged na lalaki, nakaputing kamiseta, at slacks na itim. Maputla siya at halos transparent na. Namukhaan ko agad; si Gilbert. “Aha, hihirit ka pa sa anak ko, ha?” paasar niyang tanong sa akin. Sigurado akong namula ang pisngi ko. Sasabihin ko pa sana ang ipinapasabi ni Lisa, pero pinigilan niya ako.
SHORT 1 pg.2
“ Alam ko, di mo na kailangan sabihin. Salamat, Angelo. Maraming salamat . . .” sabi niya habang unti-unti siyang nawala sa paningin ko. Naiwan uli akong mag-isa sa madilim na kalyeng iyon. Malamang, kung sa inyo nangyari ‘yon, nagsisisigaw na kayo’t nagtatatakbo, pero nasanay na kasi ako. At kahit hindi ko nakuha ang cellphone number ni Lisa, nakangiti akong naglakad habang tinatahak ang daan pauwi.
“Alas-dose ng hatinggabi. Sa lahat ng oras, bakit hatinggabi pa?” reklamo ko habang nilalakad ang kahabaan ng Mahogany Street ng dis-oras ng gabi. Madilim ang kalye, iilan lang sa mga poste ng ilaw rito ang gumagana pa. Umaalulong at kumakahol ang mga aso sa di malamang dahilan, bagay na nagpatayo ng balahibo ko. Umihip ang malamig na hangin. Soundtrack na lang yata ang kulang, at nasa isang horror movie na ako. Classic. Naka-tsinelas at naka-shorts lang ako. Naka-blue T-shirt sa ilalim ng black NYC na jacket. Magulo rin ang buhok ko, hindi ko na nagawang ayusin sa pagmamadali. Kung may nakasalubong ako sa daan, mapagkakamalan talaga akong hold-upper. Pero iba ang pakay ko; kailangan kong maihatid sa isang tao ang singsing na nasa bulsa ko ngayon. Kulay-gold ang singsing, elegante at mukhang mamahalin. Tingin ko rin, engagement ring, kasi may nakaukit na “Forever and Always” sa ilalim nung singsing. Noong una, napagkamalan ko itong peke, pero sabi ng nagpapabigay, pamana pa daw iyon sa kanya ng kanyang lolo’t lola, kaya malamang, genuine. Ewan ko ba kung bakit di ko idineretso ito sa sanglaan na nadaanan ko kanina; mayaman na siguro ako ngayon. Mga ilang segundo pa ang nakalipas at natanaw ko na rin ang hinahanap ko. Isang malaking bahay na malapit sa dulo ng kalyeng iyon. Kulay blue ang bahay , with matching blue gate din, at medyo magarang tingnan. Hindi na ako nagtaka kung dito ko isasauli ang dala-dala ko. Nag-doorbell ako sa gate ng bahay, at di nagtagal ay may nagbukas naman ng pinto. Isang matandang babae na may dala-dalang bata. Napansin ko ring sumunod sa kanya ang isang magandang dalaga, pero sa may pintuan lang siya tumayo. Kinuha niya ang bata habang lumapit ang matandang babae at kinausap ako.
SHORT 1 pg.1
“Ano po bang sadya nila?” sabi ng babae.
“Kayo po ba si Mrs. Sanchez?” tanong ko.
“Oo, ako nga. Bakit?”
“Pinabibigay po ni Gilbert,” sabi ko, sabay abot ng singsing na kanina ko pa hawak-hawak. Natulala ang babae nang makita ang singsing. Mababasa mo sa mga mata niyang nakita na niya ang singsing na ito noon. Itinuloy ko ang pagsasalita. “Pinapasabi rin po niyang sorry sa mga pagkukulang niya sa inyo nina Lisa at Allen. Sana raw po, mapatawad niyo siya sa mga pagkakamali niya. Sinabi rin po niyang nagkita na raw po sila ni Marlene, masaya na daw po sila. At kahit po wala na silang dalawa rito, mananatili raw po silang nakabantay sa inyo. Panghuli po, pinapasabi rin po niyang – “ Bigla na lang akong nanlamig, at naramdaman kong lumabas na ako sa katawan ko.
akosiePoi
The Book and Its Cover Ar-gie A. Longganay
Facades are, just, but deceiving monsters They give you the nays, they give you the ayes Of the wonder that lies behind the covers And waits to be unearthed.
POEM 1
It has been created to scare you And brings dread to the head of preys The room is pitch black and icy cold You are all alone and scared with dread.
The author’s wit is always at par With the unknown people’s choice and hopes Exaggerating the picture than what might to expect Surprisingly, the inside, either loved or hated. The cover tugs the prize invariably In soft and hard, they don the masterpiece The enthusiast’s whinings are by no means be entertained For a stately book deserves a formal deserving. The stories beneath be ever preserved Of mermaids and witches that tickles our minds A young commoner is fond of everything From fantasy to reality or in between.
Lahat tayo ay FREAK.
What, you don’t believe us? Or you just don’t accept the fact na tinatawag naming kayo (at ang mga sarili namin) na freak?
MSG FRM DA CHAIRS
Well, it’s true. You may not know it, or choose to not know it, but everyone has his own touch of eccentricity. Yung mga awkward and weird behaviours natin towards ourselves and towards others. We cannot deny na may mga ugali tayong hindi maitutulad sa ugali ng iba. Like how some people prefer dark rooms over well-lit ones, or why a person chooses to watch horror flicks and abhors rom-coms (that’s short for romantic comedies).
Kaya namin ginawa ito.
To all who have suffered from awkward and ironic moments with friends, families, and “special someones.” This is dedicated to all who enjoy supernatural entities, peculiar love stories, and shocking (if not funny) plot twists.
This is dedicated to all who think and do unusual things everyday in living.
And of course, this is dedicated to you , MUSTeans!
Be unique. Never be too inlove with the norm. embrace the oddity inside. After all, we are FREAKS….BY NATURE.
At times we tend to believe that in order for us to fit in, we need to dress like, eat like, talk like, act like, and basically be like the people who we want to be. It is because of this thoughtless idea that there is no other place in the world we will belong to aside from being part of their circle. Truth is, we are left blinded by the truth that the people we truly belong to are those that we come across with every day, people whose attention we neglect, people who will always stay despite already knowing all our flaws. We are so busy chasing the things we want, wherein we totally forget the things that are really important, the things we need. Life is indeed unpredictable, it is unfair as it is meaningful. Probably the most difficult part is knowing who we are and understanding our purpose. Trailing along this journey would of course lead us into a lot of ups and downs, will allow us to take some risks and become more responsible in knowing the depth of the sacrifices we need to make along the way. This year’s Reflections pays tribute to the brave ones. A compilation of inspiring stories and pieces of artworks that shows the beauty there is in accepting one’s self. We salute those who made their way out and embraced their freakish nature and we give pride to those who courageously declared that fear makes us even stronger. Unleash thy inner self. Be one of a kind. Be out of the ordinary. And don’t worry – as far as uniqueness goes, you are not alone.
John Cris M. Ebabacol Editor-in-Chief
Cover Design: Renz Marion F. Osa [Y] Book Concept, Cuts and Layouts: Joshua C. Copino,
Alvin M. Edio,
Jeffry T. Quinanola,
Renz Marion F. Osa
Graziella L. Gamayon,
John Jeremy E. Borres
Rocylier M. Lagurin,
Czarmagne Dominiq L. Sicat
Credits: www.deviantart.com
Weird. Strange. Bizarre. Unusual. Admit it or not, we have them. It’s either on what we do or what we think. It’s what makes us who we are. The problem is we are afraid to show it and we tend to neglect that part of us that makes us unique from one another. Know yourself more and accept those things inside of you. That might help you become a much better person. Be a child who isn’t afraid to show to the world that she is different on the way she acts and thinks than anyone else.
Reflections is the annual literary folio of the Trailblazer. All published articles are his of the individual author do not necessarily reflect the position of the Editorial Board. All articles are edited for the reasons of space, clarity, and ethics. Please address your articles to: The Trailblazer Door 2- Student Center Mindanao University of Science and Technology Cagayan de Oro City No part of this publication may be produced or recopied in part or in full without a written consent from the writer or artist. Copyright 2014 © by The Trailblazer. All rights reserved.