Hmm tanong ko lang kung maganda =3
lalaban kasi yan sa Palanca awards ih. plsss. =3
I have lost every ounce of faith. The belligerence of the world has overwhelmed the very last drop of hope in my cynical mind. Well, I must say this disposition is better than holding onto hope that was never present. At least, I am aware that the thought of having poverty extricated from the world is impossible. I consider myself propitious just by being able to know and accept that reality.
Earlier this morning, I read an ingratiating article and watched an amazing documentary about --yes, you got that right-- poverty. Their words were gleaming with positivity that I can't do anything about but contradict. Being a responsible citizen of this falling nation, I decided to shut up because I didn't want to impugn anyone's opinion and challenge an argument.
One said that the eradication of poverty and despair "is quite impossible" yet, radiated the world with "But who knows right? Nothing’s impossible! Let’s just wait for the GOLDEN KEY." Well, isn't that a great ray of sunshine?
I am no special person to act like an arbiter, but I have to burst with these long-kept, tacit negations:
There is no golden key unless you're pertaining to the annihilation of all irresponsible human beings. Or maybe there was a golden key, but is now probably being digested by the furious guts of poverty, environmental devastation and irresponsibility acting as the foregut, the midgut and the hindgut respectively.
Once upon a time, the glorious human beings starved for power that they pulled each other down. They did the world so much harm. The thought of captivating each other in helotry got their hearts leaping with triumph. Their insatiable urge to conquer blocked their eyes from the painful sight of a destructed environment -- a world in total chaos. The world was so marred that power spoilt, disease lurked and nature waved its evil hands. Thus, stranding them in the hell that now serves as their menage. Years, decades, centuries went by and the world never knew how glorious they once had been, how beautiful the world was. I think they would never know. The story doesn't end here because prisoner is hope in the hearts of some, but I'm telling you... the end is near.
Truth bordering on terror.
The trite "nothing's impossible" is something I highly dispute. How could changing the world and making it a better place not be impossible when simply shutting a revolving door is? Encouraging revolution can't just count on life, hope and liberty. I bet you can't make ice cream only with a freezer, a starving tummy and a Sharon Cuneta ice cream commercial. We need zeal, will and responsibility -- things that are impossible to maintain -- just like making ice cream needs ice and cream! And just like ice cream needs a cone to hold it together, revolution needs the world's cooperation.
Now, the question is: Can we achieve that? Yes, no we can't. As said by history books, men had tried. They tried and tried and tried until they all died trying.
Would you like to give it a try?
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Ito mas cute.
Ah, another day of school.
Attending school is usually a burden. It causes me so much stress and fatigue yet my only reward is a bit of knowledge. I've got a lot to endure - seatworks, homeworks, projects, exams - and I've got heaps of deadlines to meet. Teachers aren't that nice and I am very lucky to meet some heaven sent ones. I never really liked school that much.
That is, until now.
I sit on my usual seat. I quietly doodle in my notebook and here he goes again. He passes in front of me. He then goes to his place and stays quiet for a while. I'm not sure why... maybe he is resting? Or trying to collect his thoughts?
I look at him, really look at him. No one could lie with their eyes. And in his eyes, I can see he is suffering. I wanted so much to help him, but I was afraid he wouldn't like me to. So I stayed quiet. What he didn't know is that I suffered along with him.
I knew I shouldn't have let my feelings be this deep. But it was something I didn't expect, something I never thought of feeling. It happened anyway.
All love stories are the same.
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