G11Q3 huma pt flipbook

A HUNDRED STORIES A PLETHORA OF GENRES STEM 11-I GROUP 2 FLIPBOOK OUTPUT

Gitara blog post Kate Sescon Minsan, ang sadyang pag-udyok ng ating kyuryosidad sa pagtuklas ng isang bagay ay nagiging daan ng panibagong kwento at oportunidad. Noong kasagsagan ng pandemya, ang ating bansa ay sinakop ng panlulumo at kawalang gana, na kung saan maraming restriksyon ang isinaalang-alang, kung kaya’t kinakailangan ng karamihan na mag “stay at home” para sa kaligtasan. Katulad ko, ang tanging libangan ay ang panonood online katulad lamang ng nauusong “Tiktok.” Isang bidyu sa internet ng kumakantang babae na hawak-hawak ang minamahal niyang instrumento ang naantig ng aking interes na umuwi sa pagbili at paghawak ng hinihintay kong gitara. Ang dating katahimikan ng bahay ay napalitan ng paggalaw ng aking mga daliri sa ritmo ng anim na kwerdas ng gitara.

Nang dumampi ang gitara sa aking mga kamay ay nagbigay ito ng sabik at nakakatuwang damdamin.Tila’y isang puzzle sa aking pagiging “clueless” na kailangan mong isa-isahin at pag-aralan, dahil kung ikaw ay nagmamadali ay mas magiging komplikado ito. Sa unang strum, pumipiyok pa ang tunog at nanginginig ang aking maliliit na daliri sa pag-abot ng chords ng gitara. Sa katunayan, oo, ito ay lubos na mahirap, challenging, at nakasusukat ng iyong pasensya lalo na kung ikaw ay “beginner” pa lamang. Noong una ay nawalan ako ng gana sa pag-aaral nito dahil napakahirap at napakaraming theory ang kailangang aralin. Ngunit, sa tulong ng aking ama ay nakuha ko ang unang kantang naitugtog at ito ay “Terrified,” gamit lamang ang mga basic chords na G-C-Am-F. Sa kaunting progress na ito ay nagbigay na sa akin ng fulfilling moment at kalaunan ay naging “hobby” ko na ito at naging parte ng aking buhay sa pang-araw-araw na gawain. Kahit na nagkaroon na ng kalyo, nagdurugo na ang aking mga daliri at nawawalan ng gana minsan ay hindi ako sumuko. Sa halip, inisip ko na normal ang mga pagkakamali at lahat ng bagay ay may proseso. Araw-araw, kahit ilang minuto lamang, ay naglalaan ako ng ilang oras upang paggugulan at palawakin pa ang kaalaman sa instrumentong ito.

Unti-unti, napansin kong ang dating nakakarinding ingay ay isa nang nakakabighaning musika sa aking tenga—ang dating strumming at tapik lamang ay napunta sa plucking, fingerstyles, at kahit pagtugtog na ng mga solos. Ang bawat tagumpay na aking natatamo ay tila isang medalya na sa akin.

Kung iisipin, ito ay nagsilbing “pampalipas oras” ko lamang ngunit sa aking desididong matuto, naging isa sa mga passion ko na ito.

Masasabi kong hindi rin pala masamang maging curious at sumubok ng mga panibagong bagay. Lumalago ito at nagbibigay ng magandang resulta kung ikaw ay determinado, sumisikap, at may pagmamahal sa iyong ginagawa.

Gitara ang aking naging sandigan at kinakausap sa tuwing ako’y nanghihina. Kung ikaw ay may gitara ring nakatambak sa sulok, o matagal mo nang iniisip subukan, baka ito na ang sign. Sino ang nakakaalam? Baka doon magsisimula ang kwento ng musika mo.

<3 chick lit Rachelle Bajjada I can’t believe my girlfriend made my birthday this amazing. We started the day at an all-you-can-eat restaurant because stuffing my belly until I felt like I might actually throw up is basically my idea of a perfect day. She laughed as I piled plate after plate on my tray, and I couldn’t stop grinning at how perfect she made everything feel. After we ate, she started buying me gifts, anything I wanted. I was trying to check out some blind boxes on the lowest shelf, and as I knelt down to see better and I fell over onto the floor. She laughed so hard and helped me up, and I swear my heart did backflips right there.

The night didn’t get any less magical. We walked around, holding hands, joking about random things, and stealing quiet kisses when no one was looking. I didn’t want the night to end, and honestly, I didn’t want to go back to school or real life ever again. Every little thing she did, every smile, every teasing look, every tiny surprise, made me feel like the luckiest person alive.

Then the next day, she messaged me saying I she had something delivered to me and when it arrived it was bouquet she had sent me. My heart practically melted.

Just her being her thoughtful, funny, perfect made me feel so happy and completely myself. With her, even when my day already ended she still makes sure to make me feel special everyday, and I couldn’t stop thinking how did I get so lucky to love someone who makes me feel this alive?

The Mirror of Forgotten Roads speculative nonfiction Hannah Indiana In the floating city of Nivara, every citizen carried a small, silver mirror that reflected not their face, but the road they had chosen most in life. Some mirrors glowed warmly, showing smooth, easy paths. Others were cracked and dark, revealing struggles avoided or mistakes ignored. Elyra, a quiet seamstress, had long avoided looking into hers, afraid of what it might show. Life had been safe and predictable, but empty. She felt the weight of paths she had never taken pressing on her chest.

One evening, a sudden storm ripped through the city, scattering mirrors across the streets. Elyra stumbled over a mirror that did not belong to her. It showed her own face smiling in a world she had never dared to step into, where she had followed her dream of becoming a navigator of the sky bridges above Nivara. Something inside her ached at the vision, and for the first time, she lifted her own mirror. It reflected a dim, winding road filled with challenges she had ignored arguments avoided, risks forsaken, and her own fears unspoken.

Instead of turning away, Elyra traced the cracks with her fingers and whispered, “I will walk this path.”

By morning, the mirror glowed with soft light, and the streets of Nivara seemed less rigid and more willing to bend. She realized that problems and struggles were not punishments but lessons, signposts guiding her toward the life she wanted to shape. Every step she took and every choice she faced reshaped not just her mirror but the city itself, teaching her that courage was not the absence of fear but the decision to move forward despite it.

Legend ng Matsing flash fiction Kevin Belleza Long ago, in a dense forest, there lived a hardworking monkey whose perseverance earned him an opportunity to work far away for a better income. He happily shared the news with his family, knowing it would help them all. After a tearful farewell, he journeyed toward his new future.

Upon arriving, he met a group of pandas and greeted them kindly. However, the pandas mocked him and told him he did not belong there. They continued to discriminate against him because of their differences.

Everything changed during a community feast that the monkey attended. He brought biko, a sweet rice cake made by his mother and grandmother. The guests loved it, and the dish was soon gone. Curious, one panda asked about it, and the monkey shyly explained his culture. This led to a warm conversation, followed by dancing where the monkey shared traditional moves from his homeland. The pandas applauded with delight.

From that day on, the monkey and the pandas became friends. Their gatherings became traditions, and they learned to value one another’s culture. In the end, they realized that true friendship is built not on differences, but on acceptance, respect, and love.

Purlieu mobile phone text tula

Kenneth Torres

- I watch you from far away I wish I had words to say Your smile brightens up my day Still I choose to stay away

When Music Knows Before We Do creative nonfiction Aliyah Jomento Before I understood my feelings, music understood them for me.

As a child, I didn’t know what depression was or that yearning you feel so deep in your soul. But I had songs. They filled the space where explanations should have been, turning emotions into notes, with a beginning and an ending. That alone felt peaceful.

Music first entered my life through other people. My mother hummed while cooking, the same half-finished melodies repeated so often they became part of the house’s architecture. My father turned the radio on during early morning Saturdays, just high enough to drown out awkward silences. Music wasn’t a performance then. It was background, like breathing.

Later, it became a refuge.

I remember those lonely nights sitting on my bedroom floor with my earphones on, letting each rhythm and bass vibrate through my soul. The world felt loud in ways I couldn’t control—expectations, opinions—but music was loud on my terms. I chose it. I survived things by turning them into a comforting melody. Music doesn’t just remind me of who I was—it reintroduces me. I hear an old song and suddenly I’m 13 again, convinced that everything mattered too much, that every lyric was written specifically to save me.

When I started playing instruments myself, I learned how fragile it is. How a wrong note can feel like a confession. How silence between beats matters just as much as sound. There were moments I stopped listening altogether. Life got busy. Songs became noise. I told myself I’d outgrown the need for them. But music is patient. It waits. It slips back into your life through a grocery store speaker or a car radio at midnight when you’re restless after a long day. And suddenly you remember.

Music doesn’t fix things. It doesn’t erase grief or answer questions. What it does is sit with you. It says, “This feeling exists”, and most times, that’s enough. Sometimes knowing you’re not the first person to feel this way is the closest thing to relief.I still measure my life in songs. Not because they define me, but because they witness me. They know what I’ve been through—even when I didn’t know how to say it yet.

Music hearkens first.

THE LAST BELL —————

CAMACLANG, JORDAN GRAPHIC NOVEL

No way...

Is this a dream...?

Are we...?

Too cliche!

REVISE! editor

FIRST DRAFT —————

CAMACLANG - MANGA

GROUP 2 HUMA 11

MEMBERS CAMACLANG, ELIZABETH MARIE SESCON, KATE NICOLE JOMENTO, ALIYAH BAJJADA, RACHELLE BELLEZA, KEVIN CLIVE TORRES, JOHN KENNETH INDIANA, HANNAH KC JORDAN, JUSTINE BRIAN SOLITO, CALEB DWAYNE GALVE, AJ

S.Y. 2025-2026