D#1

          Hindi ko talaga kayo maintindihan! Namumuhay naman kami ng marangal, pero pilit niyo kaming binubura sa mundo. Palibhasa, may pribilehiyo ang iba sa inyong mamuhay ng masagana; nang 'di naghihirap, nang 'di nagtatrabaho! Kami, kahit anong kayod namin, kahit saan kami lumapit, kahit ilang lugar na ang mapuntahan namin, pare-parehong mababa ang tingin niyo sa amin. Magnanakaw, salot, simula ng kasamaan... kayo na bahalang nagdagdag! Tutal magaling naman kayong mang-apak at manghusga, 'di ba?

         Pero hindi ko rin maintindihan 'yong sarili ko; oo nagagalit ako sa ginagawa niyo sa amin, pero hindi ko kayo kayang labanan. Hindi ako kagaya ng kapatid kong pula na bigla-biglang aatake. Alam niyo ba kung bakit? Kasi naniniwala akong hindi niyo kami sasaktan dahil pare-pareho tayong biniyayaan ng buhay... pero sa tuwing naaalala ko ang kapaitang handog niyo sa aking mga kalahi, doon ko napagtatantong hindi dapat basta-bastang binibigay ang tiwala... kahit sa mga edukado, o malalaking tao pa.

- Itim na Langgam

(for literary purposes only)

Kuwentong Kamay

     Tirik ang araw sa bayan ng Sanip kaya't nagtampisaw sina Juan at Maria sa ilog. Sumama rin sila Pedro at Monching; sina Felgario at Montessa; sina Dodong at Sunay. Ligo, banlaw. Ligo, banlaw. Unti-unti silang dumadami kaya't ang ilog ay unti-unti ring dumudumi. 'Di ito alintana sa kanila kaya't tuloy lang sila sa pagtatampisaw na para bang bawat lublob sa ilog ay siyang paghahanap ng sagot sa mga katanungang sa simula pa lang ay kaya na nilang sagutin; ngunit ayaw lang nilang tanggapin.

     Dumating din ang araw na hindi na sila maaaring magtampisaw sa ilog. Kasing itim na ito ng kaluluwa nila; ngunit walang may gustong linisin iyon. Marami nang sumubok, pero wala namang nagawa kundi titigan lang ang mga dumi na makipaglaro sa tubig.

     Nag-antay sila ng mahabang panahon para may magkusang-loob na manguna sa paglilinis, ngunit wala pa rin. Dumumi na rin ang paligid at nagkaroon ng epidemya. Naging desperado na ang mga tao sa paghahangad ng kalinisan, ngunit wala pa ring may gustong magtrabaho para dito.

     Napakaitim na ng Sanip ngayon. Bulag pa rin ang mga tao sa pagpili ng taong magsisimula ng pagbabago. Sa totoo lang, hindi nila kailangang pumila o mag-antay. Alam na nila iyon sa simula pa lang. Nasa kamay nila ang kalinisan; nasa kamay nila ang pagbabago. Takot lang silang mabahiran ng dumi ang mga kamay nilang iyon. Alam nilang kahit sinong manguna sa pag-lilinis, kung walang may gustong magsimula sa sarili nila ay walang patutunguhan ang lahat. Pero wala eh, gano'n talaga sa Sanip.
     Ay baliktad pala. Parang mga utak nating mga Pilipino ngayon. Bansa nga pala; hindi bayan. 'Pinas' nga pala; hindi 'Sanip'.

[ Sinulat ko 'to no'ng May 5, 2016. Alas-tres na yata ng umaga no'n at 'di pa rin ako makatulog. Nilaan ko na lang ang oras sa pagbuo ng kwento since malapit na rin ang eleksyon no'n. 9 AM ng May 6, 2016 nang pinost ko 'to sa Facebook para magsilbing gabay sa ninanais ng karamihan na 'pagbabago' na nasa kamay lang talaga natin. :) ]

Confessions of a Fangirl

Confessions of a Fangirl is an article made by Kyla in 2015, published on their English school newspaper, The Genzette, wherein she's the Associate Editor of the said school publication in that year. The article is modified due to typographical errors and to keep up the accuracy of the contents inside for the year 2016.

     Being a fangirl is not easy. You may think it's easy as a, b, c's, but no. Fangirling is a tough job, especially if you're a K-Pop fan. Again, it's a job. I also repeat, it's K-Pop. K-Pop is extremely far from western music you guys usually like. From the language itself, the region it came from and its style of creating music.

     Now that you know it's obviously different from each other, let me show you our "fangirl burdens" through this piece of writing.

     First of all, we face a lot of discrimination struggles whenever we were asked about our favorite genre of music. Yes, we like K-Pop. No, we are not Koreans. That's it, end of story. Why do people have to discourage us about loving K-pop? Is it a big deal if we don't like your fave artist because we love our oppa(s) and eonni(es)? Why do people push us to like artists whom we don't like? We aren't bandwagons and we don't follow it. We stand for what we like and what we don't like. Just because you like this *insert genre of music/artist/band* doesn't mean you have to push people to like them. We have different tastes. Respect everyone's choices if you don't want your idols to be exiled and bashed because you, narrow-minded people. We are extremely powerful than what you think. We can stop you from using your social media accounts by just letting a single hashtag trend for days (if it is actually a serious case). K-pop has various sub-fandoms. Once you attack a certain fan of the group or the group itself, all of the fandoms will join in to defend this certain fan or member. Think before you act.

     Second, we are not racists. How could we be one of your so called "racists", if every single race has a k-pop fan in it? Don't underestimate our ability to influence non-kpop fans because we can turn them to be one of us in a heartbeat. We possess that communication skill. @koralike_ | kairms.blogspot.com

     Third, don't underestimate the capability of a fan to hold emotions; also their brain's memory storage of events, Hangul (Korean writing), and speaking skills. Even if we aren't Koreans, we know how to read and write it. Somehow, we are able to speak Korean words or phrases just like saranghaeyo, jinjja, and eottokhae. We can also stay up to 5:00 AM just to watch a group's comeback music videos such as EXO's "Love Me Right", BTS' "Run", and Seventeen's "Mansae". Take note, we don't watch it once, but we kill the F5 button to break certain views.

     Being a fangirl is a job, with no income. Instead, we are the ones who spend money, handle raging emotions, and keep up a fansite active all at once. Fangirling is a way of life. A life out of the 'feels'of a world too mainstream to understand. Are you one of us?

One Thousand, Ninety-Five

I wrote this article for our essay writing contest in 2015. I didn't win, but my friend from the star section did. It's not that I can't accept their decision that I lost, but I felt insulted, and robbed. They judged my work and accused me of copying it from the internet just because I came from a lower section.

I came from a poor family of 12. We rarely eat three times a day and I haven't lived on a peaceful home. I'm from a broken family and I live with my Mom. I have a younger brother whom lives with my dad. I am the eldest one, and my name is Reah.

Since I was young, father told me that we don't need to go to school anymore; for what's important is how to live by ourselves and that doesn't require to go to school... to waste time, money, and effort-- but by knowing how to plant crops, take care of the livestocks and the rice fields... and I completely disagree with that.

I am an ambitious child. I want to grow with flying colors in order to help my parents to raise ourselves from poverty.  My younger brother lowers my self-esteem to reach my ultimate dream-- to reunite our family and be grateful enough to live together, even I know that it's impossible.

It's 10 o'clock already and I should have slept. It's pitch black yet a burning desire lights up the surroundings. I try to find the missing piece, and my feet guided me towards the dusty library. There, I felt chills flow to my spine seeing the thick pile of books in front of me. I know it's making me to feel the urge to read one, and I did.

I picked a book. I started to scan the pages and decided to read it from the start. I know, I didn't go to school, but my mom told and taught me how to read and write because she told me, "It's one of the basic needs of a human to grow." With that, I read the book; I'm so engrossed that the sun smiled and touched my tan skin, telling me to have some rest. @koralike_ | kairms.blogspot.com

I went back to our home and told Mom about it. She's astounded for she thought no one would ever see her hidden crib; the library, which molded her for years... yet wrecked by a man she thought she dreamt and already read from the book, which is my dad.

She didn't disagree nor prohibit me from reading. She inspired me to read some more and we both talk about the books we both read, claiming we're both 'bibliophiles' and served as our bonding.

Every night, I would go to the library before I doze off to sleep. It feels like I'm filled with ecstatic emotions everytime the book takes me to different places... from forests to seas, from heavens and underworlds; I feel like I'm a different person everytime I'm hooked up on the book.

It became my hobby; a piece of me that I don't regret that I've let in. I've let every quote, every majestic word and thunderstriking plots to consume me. This lasted for 1,095 days... and I made a decision to leave my comfort zone; the library, to explore the wonders of my capabilities and apply those in reality, since I've been fully equipped for half of my life. I went to cities all by myself, leaving Mom my promise that I will rise ourselves from poverty. It's hard and vexatious, but I know I will benefit soon.

Years have passed and I became a writer. I became famous and owned a lot of publishing establishments. My life became an inspiration for today's youths, yet I always say to them that I owe it to the library, my mom, and God. The three of them made me forgot that I came from a poor and broken family. I persevered a lot, and I know Mom and God knows all of these.

I got a surprise call from my Mom telling me that Dad decided to complete our family again. Dad didn't knew the epitome of success I've reached, yet I'm blissful that his mind took the realization of family's importance. I told them about my achievements, and they are dumbfounded of what I've become. Our family decided to live in the city I work, and continued to fill up the empty pieces of myself by having leisure time with them through reading.

I am Reah, and this is real. I may be uneducated, but the books accompanied me to the darkest dilemnas of my life; and it took me 1,095 days to proudly say that in reading, hope springs!

Unlabeled You

Unlabeled You is an article made by The Genzette's Editor-in-Chief, Kyla, for her opinion column, Catharsis, which was published last March 11, 2016. It is her first and last opinion column as she bids goodbye in the school publication. The article states her views and personal experiences during her high school life.

     The section that you belong in doesn't define who you are. Being included in the pilot section doesn't mean that you're already a virtuoso. Being included in the lower section doesn't mean you don't excel. @koralike_ | kairms.blogspot.com

     I came from the star section when I first stepped in high school. It was pressuring for others; yet I don't feel it. Even if we're already loaded with numerous tasks, we still managed to watch movies everyday after class. We'll rent multiple CDs and watch it in our home with my friends. Then the next day, we're the topic of the class. My adviser would sarcastically ask us what the movie plot is all about and if we memorized the characters... and how we keep up being sneaky when going on our way home (because we pass by their house so my adviser knows). Thug life indeed.

     I'm an easy-going person, yet I know my priorities very well. Even if me and my friends just chill out, we can still maintain our grades; pass projects right before the deadline, do assignments, and ace the tests all at once.

     Yet maybe that's the reason why I left that section-- because I really don't belong there... for I hate the pressure the teachers are placing on us and the tension with my classmates going on every single time.

     Since I left that section and went to the lower ones, my perspective really changed. To be honest, there's a lot of geniuses scattered on the lower sections, and they deserve slots in the higher ones. I've met a lot of students who are effortlessly smart; who doesn't even need to review, yet keep on slaying the tests. Some are not that knowledgeable, yet extremely equipped with perseverance, creativity, and talent. On the contrary, not all of the students in the star section are deserved to be called one of those precious stars because of various, evident circumstances they are involved.
https://www.xkroalike.blogspot.com | SuperKyla
     My theory why they tranquilly excel is that the lower sections aren't shell-shocked. They are given enough time, and they are not obliged to join 'this' and 'that' just because they are labeled to be the greatest, and they have to win as 'best'. But even if there's a lot of smart wizards on the lower sections, they are still labeled as the "incompetent one". Why? Because people love to judge, and there are a lot of people who always claim the spotlight even if it doesn't suit them.

     What vexes me the most is that when people look down to students from lower sections. It's not fair to stereotype a whole group of students based on one person you've seen to perform in a certain (probably poor) way. We are certain individuals. We have different attributes to show. We are all capable of something that others aren't capable to do.

     Students from lower sections aren't immobilized; they can do what the higher sections can do. Sometimes, they can even execute it way better... so why do we lock up these individuals who possesses great talent into a certain room of judgment just because they aren't from section one?

      To be honest, higher sections must feel grateful, for they have the chance to be called as the "best". Yet they should be also grateful for the serene, lower sections because without them, they won't be called like that.

     I speak from my experience as a writer, and a student who came from two types of sections too. I'm an editor-in-chief of The Genzette, and I also came from the lower section, just like the most of you. If I can, I know you can. I didn't let the label inscribed in me for three years to restrain me from doing something I really do with passion, which is writing. Now, I want you to create your own stand, firmly believe and fight for it.

x

A DSSPC To Remember

                   

     I was sitting inside the four corners of the classroom with my radio broadcasting team. We were very busy practicing our script for we thought that as we rose from these sturdy chairs, we'll start our voice show. I was a bit nervous that time because first we were not even complete. We were only five to present a 5-minute radio broadcast that was supposed to be seven. Second, we're in trouble in terms of our sound effects; we'll be using a phone that should be a laptop and lastly, I really feel that my heart turned out into a speaker that plays a bass boosted song that goes 'boom'. I feel like I can collapse anytime I wanted to.

     A woman popped out all of a sudden. She started talking about herself then their school's achievements (like who the heck cares?) and the topic we will tackle. Probably, she's the lecturer. I ignored her first, because I wasn't pleased; her foundation was uneven and her hair was messy. Second, she's not prepared because her presentation was only showed at Microsoft Word, not on PowerPoint, and lastly, I just don't like her airy aura. I just turned my eyes to hunt some hot guys (I'm being treacherous to my crush) when suddenly I spotted one and luckily, he's sitting on the 5th row while I'm on the 4th! (Hallelujah!)

@koralike_ | kairms.blogspot.com

     I looked at his face. His eyes were somewhat small, I guess he's half Chinese. He got fair complexion. His lips were small too, and it's red! At first, I thought he was wearing lipstick, but his red lips were all natural. He got that pointy nose and he was wearing eyeglasses that really turned me on! He sensed that I was eye-raping his face so he smirked and I was a bit shocked so I quickly turned my head back to the lecturer. I felt my temperature got high and as I see my reflection on my phone, I saw myself blushing! I glanced at him once last time and he was smiling!

     Anyway, I really did my best to listen to the lecturer, but she was so boring that I yawned. (I'm so sorry) Oh, I am the secretly arrogant in the room, I told myself that I don't even need her lectures because my school paper adviser had a copy of it, besides, we're the best radio broadcast team and I see that my teammates agree with me for they're not listening too.

     At last! She ran out of saliva. We were given one and a half hour to create and practice our script. We proceeded to the second floor and occupied one room for one school. Well, we're prepared so our script was done so all we have to do is to practice it. After some minutes of "intense" practice of lines, we delivered it to the judges straight in their faces. As I expected, good feedback were given to us and some downsides like, we're incomplete and one sound effect doesn't suit one's voice, but overall, it was good!

     We stayed at the lobby while waiting for our school paper adviser and luckily, there's the one whom I encountered in the lecturer's room. I see him stare at me in the corner of my eyes and I also felt that he was going to my direction and dang! He was at my back, staring far from nowhere. Well, I stayed calm and stood up. He said 'hi' to me and I said 'hello'. He stared at me for some seconds until I felt the awkwardness. I waved my hands near his face then he went back to the reality and composed himself quickly. I saw him blush and my goodness. He turned out into a tomato! I laughed so hard that you wouldn't think that there's no more tomorrow and said that he's cute when he blushes. He just replied 'thanks'. My friends we're coming at my side so he said goodbye and then he turned out into a cheetah. OH BOY, I FORGOT TO ASK HIS NAME!

     On our way to DSSPC, I can't help but to think of that guy. There's an urge to myself that I want to know his name and I really felt that he'll be a good friend. The contest was held and the awarding ceremony followed accordingly. I'm so happy for him that their school bagged awards just like ours. I saw him smile at me so I smiled at him too. I really want to ask his name when he waved his hands at me saying that they need to go. I felt sad, I thought that this was the perfect chance to ask his name, but time doesn't allows us to do so. Maybe I'll just see him next year... Oh how I hate you fate.

Snapshots of the Past

     Everytime I hear his name, his wide smile fills up my mind. His sparkling eyes that stares at me gives me chills. I like his boisterous laugh where you can see his hundred teeth that you even need to wear sunglasses so your eyes wouldn't be hurt. His weird voice that makes my heart skip a beat everytime he sings (especially when he knows that he's out of tune), his jokes that makes me laugh even though it's not funny. He goes there beside me, just staring on what am I doing. He even threw me pick-up lines that makes me blush. He's so good to me whenever I feel nobody does. He's the only who cares for me when no one did. I like everything he does, I like what's in him. I LIKE HIM.


     He cheered me up when I was down. He treated me like a princess. He let me feel special even in a short time. Questions are conquering my mind again...


Is he the one for me?
Will I experience what my friends does?
Can I relate myself to them more?
@koralike_ | kairms.blogspot.com

     I left them unanswered. I want HIM to answer it for me.


"Yes, I am the one for you. The one you've been waiting for so many years. Yes darling, we'll experience what they are doing but we'll do it more better than them. You'll relate yourself to them more for we'll be making our very own love story that will be written in the history."


     Of course, I am daydreaming! Probably, it may happen on some books, but never in the reality. I'm used to it, to be hurt. Three rejections. Three big rejections that almost ruined my life. When I attempted at my first, I stopped myself for I am too young. The second one, he doesn't like me, but my best friend, he does. The third one... he ignores me and he really torn my heart. In this fourth attempt, I wish he'll never break it for it took me years to heal it...


     Oh! He's my source of joy. I don't know why, but I'm extremely happy when I'm with him. He's the one who usually wipes my tears; he gives me his words of wisdom. He always wanted to reach out for me that makes me feel that I'm special to him. He said that he's happy with me. Is it? Am I special to him? I hope so...


     But the only permanent in this world is change.


     After one month of sweetness, everything is just a memory now. His sweetness turned into bitterness. I can still hear his sweet lines, but that's not for me anymore, but into somebody else. He's the one who wipes my tears but now, he's the reason behind it. I see him happy, but I really hope that I'm still the one, the one behind his smiles, but definitely not. He found someone better than me! He sees that I don't care, but deep inside myself, I'm holding back my tears. I'm breaking inside. I thought he's the one. He helped me to move on for my third attempt. He told me that he's happy with me. I thought there's a SPARK between us, but I think, I'm the only one who feels it. We used to do what we usually do everytime we're together, but now, he's doing it with someone else.


     Hey, I'm sorry! I was serious on what we we're doing, but it was just a fling for you. Yes, a fling. All this time. I thought there was something, but there's none. I thought you're the heaven's sent for my agonizing heart, but no. You weren't. Everything was scripted; you manipulated me, gave me false hopes... how dare you to play with my heart... Well I'm moving on for I am tired of this. Fourth attempt, failed. No, I won't stop loving for the sake of loving me back. I will come back stronger... and thank you for the memories, it's just a snapshot of the past now.

Usually Sacred

     "It is very alarming that we know more facts about our idols than the policies of our school and our parents' guidelines.", says a friend of mine. Yeah, she has a point. It's true. For us? Does it seem right? I know that some of you are confused but most of us teenagers do this, most of the time.

@koralike_ | kairms.blogspot.com

     I still remember those cold nights and a candle was our only source of heat and light. We were there in a room, praying the rosary. There's an interaction wherein mother says the lines and we answer back. I can hear Mom's sincerity while saying the prayer, so do I. My younger brother caught Mom's attention, all of a sudden for he keeps on yawning and there's his pair of eyes, blinking, showing no interest in what we're doing. Mom just gave a death glare. I don't know how should I react for we stopped for a while. I just showed no emotion at all. I saw my brother, stunned. After a few seconds, he finally realized that what we're doing is a sacred act -- praying so he sat down properly and he composed himself quickly. Mom just flashed a smile and we continued the prayer peacefully.

     The next day, we prepared everything before we go to school. The packed lunch, our  bags, and even ourselves were ready. Even the elementary school bus was there. I look at my brother's eyes, and I can see he's terrified. I saw mother's flaming eyes because of what my younger brother did. Well what did he do anyway? There he was, standing in front of the mirror, doing poses because he was so jolly. He used the rosary as an accessory. Mother shouted at the loudest voice she could...

"Are you possessed by a demon? Why are you wearing the rosary?! Only possessed people wear that!"

     My younger brother was left there, standing.

"But Mom, i-it's the n-new trend!" he replied, stammering.

"I used to be slapped whenever I try to do those things! Can't you see? It's sacred! Remove that rosary or I'll do something you wouldn't like." my mother's response.

     My younger brother removed the rosary fastly as his tears fell down to his face. His face turned red for he was ashamed; thinking if our schoolmates heard it. I wiped his tears and left the last words...

"It will be alright." and then we left the house.

     That night after the incident, my mom usually talks to us to ask how we were doing in school after we pray the rosary. It's like a family meeting, but I really feel that this one's different.

     "What happened to the new generation? Is this the way how you respect the holy things? By using them as an accessory? As far as I know, rosary necklaces, rosary bracelets is an all new trend in the market. But wearing them without the blessing of the priests will bring you nothing. So wearing it simply means that you're displaying it. For what? Good compliments? That you're so religious that you should go to heaven? Mentioning about religious, your standpoint nowadays is always like this, 'the more religious things you wear, the more religious you are!' But the bottom line is, do you even go to church to attend the mass? Now, being a part of the new generation, you should know your limitations as well as the DO's and DON'Ts." Mom told us. We we're there, quiet and our head faces the floor. Mom's right. Respect begins with respect because sacred things turned out into usually sacred.

The Light Fades Out In Her

       "NO! Don't tempt us to eat that. We're prohibited to eat or  drink something cold and sweet." she said irritably. Why is that she's always short-tempered? Maybe the reason why is that the  cute kid keeps on blurting out that he wants to share his scramble with us. Why is that so? I don't even know. The kid just wants to share what he got then she got irritated all of a sudden? Well I guess she's on her period, but that doesn't mean she can't control her temper. I really felt sorry for the kid for I saw his face turned blue. He's didn't do anything wrong, besides he's nice, he got that bubbly personality that shows his innocence so how come she got irritated to this little angel? The light fades out in her.

     She's nice, yes. She's good at speaking for she had a good accent. She threw her lines perfectly, she's still wearing the same shirt that labels her personality, she's still my friend, but why is that I felt something unusual; it seems like something changed. I can't figure it out at this time, but there's something wrong... I guess the light fades out in her.

      After some hours of bustling training, we performed our voice show. We recorded it and we decided that we'll practice more. We need to polish everything, but we're only given one day to polish it, but it ended up now, unsatisfied on what we've executed. Even though I wanted to practice more to perfect it, I need to follow my schedule for this day. I'm still deciding to attend the meeting or go home and take a rest. My conscience tells me to attend while my body tells me to rest. I asked her opinion...

"Aattend ka ba sa meeting mamaya?" I asked her.

"No." she said coldly.

"Bakit?" I asked her again.

     Questions started running through my mind. My curiosity drained when I heard her answer...

"Kasi ayoko, saka 'di pa ako nagpapaalam kila Mama." she stated while packing her things.

     I was left there. Standing. Is she still my friend that has the eagerness to serve Him? Why does she turned out like this? What happened to her? I remained silent for I'm sensing that she'll say something more.

"Pinag-iisipan ko nga 'rin pala kung iiwan ko 'yung TK. Besides, hindi naman ako kawalan eh." she continued.

     My heart broke down into pieces on what I've heard. Why? Why did she turned out like this? Is there something wrong? I don't want this feeling, I felt my sweet smile cleared out rapidly and it turned out into a bitter one.  I feel like, I'm the reason why she turned out like this, but my mind says that I did nothing wrong to her. Why all of a sudden? Oh yes! The light fades out in her.

     I still remember the tough times when she badly need our prayers for her special someone that occupies half of her heart. As her friend, I included her someone into my prayers, every night and day, sincerely. My effort paid off, her special someone got a little stronger. I saw that she flashed a smile into me, and her eyes is like telling me "Thank you". I just winked at her and we went to the church for our practice.

     She wants to be updated on the organization at all times, she gets angry when she's not informed. She's an active member. She's great because she never says "NO" to new experiences that welcomes her. I guess her faith was going strong. She's leaving her shell already. She interacts with other people and I love to see her bright aura. Her light shined and left the darkness. She's improving. 

I really hope that her attitude continues. Until...

"NO! Don't tempt us to eat that. We're prohibited to eat or drink something cold and sweet." she said irritably.

     I don't even know what happened, who changed her like that, when and where did it took place, why and how. I don't want her to stay in that way, I know that I need to do something because the light fades out in her.

Loss: To Feel or Not To Feel

               

     My memories come as isolated snapshots now, a kaleidoscope of colorful fragments that somehow add up to a MAN I once called MINE. I accept the loss in stages, quietly closing one door and moving on to the next. Healing is a process, gradual and slow.
www.iamsuperkyla.blogspot.com / SuperKyla :3
     How do I keep this from being a life long lesson? How do I keep it an isolated incident something so over aching, so devastating, so pervasive in my life still? How do I keep from being crippled by it? The answer, I believe... If there is such a thing as a concise answer to such questions is to slowly learn to live with the loss and not under it, to let it become a companion rather that a guide. I won't say this is easy; I know how hard it can be. But I also know it can be done, and I know the comfort that comes from hearing how other coped with similar challenges and fears. It'a like a loud sound in an empty house, it echoes on and on. The sounds of silence left to echo without response, become more haunting than the actual words. 

     This time, though the pain refused to stay underground. As the initial shock of separation wore off, I began to cry with a ferocity that, quiet literally, one night brought me to my knees. It didn't matter that I was the one who walked away; I still felt abandoned and completely alone. 

     It hurts me more than I can express to hear he's still hurt. He asked me, "How are you?". After a pause, I said I'm doing fine. I asks how he's been, and he says "Fine". Another pause, and then we say goodbye. 

     I remember what he gave, what he made, what he did. What we were to each other, what he taught me, what I learned at him. That he made things, that he made words, that he fed me with so much love. Where he had dreamed of going, what our first words were and how he had quarreled with me. 

     I am fooling myself when I say he exists now only in the photograph or in the outline of my hand or in the armful of memories I still hold tight. He lives on beneath everything I do. His presence influenced who I was, and his absence influence who I am. Our lives are shaped as much by those who leave us as they are by those who stay. Insight is our gift. Memory is our guide. Loss is our legacy.

Women are SPECIAL ♥

           

A little boy asked his mother, "Why are you crying?" "Because I'm a woman," she told him.

"I don't understand," he said. His Mom just hugged him and said, "And you never will."www.iamsuperkyla.blogspot.com / SuperKyla :3
Later the little boy asked his father, "Why does mother seem to cry for no reason?"

"All women cry for no reason," was all his dad could say.

The little boy grew up and became a man, still wondering why women cry.

Finally he put in a call to God. When God got on the phone, he asked,

"God, why do women cry so easily?"

God said, "When I made the woman she had to be special.

I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world, yet gentle enough to give comfort.

I gave her an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times comes from her children.

I gave her a hardness that allows her to keep going when everyone else gives up, and take care of her family through sickness and fatigue without complaining.

I gave her the sensitivity to love her children under any and all circumstances, even when her child has hurt her very badly.

I gave her strength to carry her husband through his faults and fashioned her from his rib to protect his heart.

I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never hurts his wife, but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve to stand beside him And finally, I gave her a tear to shed. This is hers exclusively to use whenever it is needed."

"You see my son," said God, "the beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart the
place where love resides.

- Credits to the owner

Dear Public Servants...

 Dear Public Servants,

www.iamsuperkyla.blogspot.com / SuperKyla :3

          Well, what do you get when you boast something? Aside from being famous for the clothes you wear, its brand, the designer, the materials used for making those clothes and the amount of money you guys paid for that lavish dress you'll just use for only half a day, what else? Nothing, right? I know that you're all like, "So what are you fighting for?" or "The heck is your problem?". Don't pretend that you know nothing! You guys do this, all the time.

          Why you guys can't be simple? Why do you always think that you should always look perfect to the public? Don't you know what your positions are and your purposes for this country? Let me remind you that you are not models but public servants. You guys are attending SONA, not Grammy's nor FAMAS'. You guys aren't even in Hollywood. You guys should know your limitations and don't you know that the way you dress up reflects your personality yet you guys always want to show off! Can't you just be contented and keep in your big brains that "I just want to be presentable but not in an extravagant way... I'm a public servant, not a dummy so why wear these lavish clothes?". (Prudish? If you say so.) Your standpoint is always like the more expensive clothes you wear, the more popularity votes you get. There's more! You always want to brag that "Hey! Your dress is so cheap, so do you. Look at mine, this is what you call class and elegance!" Oh shut up. It's on the person's way of carrying that dress! (Well, if ithe shoe fits in, feel free to wear it..) Showing off your souls to the public is what you call SIMPLE? Geez, seriously? That's what you call simplicity? (Mind if you'll just wear your bikinis and trunks... Wouldn't it be better?) All I can say is that being simple is hardly even from you, right? (Truth hurts. Yes)

          Enough with that! Instead of buying clothes that costs a million you'll just wear for only half a day, why not donating it to some organizations or raising a feeding program, why don't you? With that, you've helped the less fortunate, another deed with sense! (Seems legit.)

          We've had enough. Good thing our President thought of an idea on having uniforms to avoid extravagance. I hope that he'll make a move about that... Let's just wait in the 2014. Hope you guys didn't use the money of the country you guys collected from taxes for your stupid dresses...