Aurum: KURAP

Itwillbedark

Lady Nicole Pag Ong

You will be placed into the darkest part of the fiery pit. It will be dark for those who have stayed silent in the face of a moral crisis. It will be dark for those who remained neutral in times of injustice. We promise you; it will be dark.

Larawan ni Jamel Aaron Dauz

FAUXVERITY

MASKARA

Donna Angelica Panlican Dibuho ni

InsanityOverload

Joel Tan, Jr.

I should reign the crowd underneath my feet of obscurity: I am the king of all the anomaly. You are mine but I am not yours Now beg and kiss my feet. Give me your all, even your dignity. Let me poke your eyes and your sanity.

You give me this crown that you trusted me

It was just so fun to see you die of hunger.

You already know the history of my aristocratic family

Do you even know that we stole a lot of your money? Can't you see? This is the life you wanted, right? Don't even try to blink any of your eyes. Or else all your treasures will be in my property. Just continue being idiots Trusting others who keep talking about crappy unity. UNITE NOW! All of you are under my command And my order is —LET ME SEE YOU SUFFER. Keep on gazing at me at my throne With your hopeful eyes in tears WHAT A WONDERFUL SIGHT TO TEASE!

—

Ybrahim

Joel Tan, Jr.

ng munting Ybrahim ay dating naninirahan sa isang masagana at mapagbigay na pamilya. Hindi sila makasarili at laging bukas-palad sa mga nangangailangan. Laging laman ng tsismis ng barangay ang pagiging mapagbigay at ang kabutihang loob ng kanyang pamilya. Si Ybrahim ay mahusay na mang-aawit at pintor. Madalas siyang lumalahok sa mga kompetisyon at nauuwi ang pinakamataas na gantimpala. Sa halip na ipunin o di kaya’y ipangbili niya ng hinahangad niyang telepono ang kanyang premyo ay mas pinipili pa niyang ipamigay ito sa mga nangangailangan. Nagtatrabaho sa ibang bansa ang kanyang mga magulang at ang kanilang titulo sa lupa at mga ari-arian ay hawak ng kapatid ng kanyang ama na nagiisang tiyuhin ng binata. Malawak ang kanilang lupain at lupang sakahan at madalas tumatama ang kanilang ani.

Masasabing napakapalad niya sapagkat kung tutuusin ay sigurado na ang mabuti niyang kinabukasan. Napakasakit lang na lahat ay nagmaliw nang maglaro ang tadhana at sinubok sila ng panahon. Sa isang kurap ang lahat ng ngiti ay napalitan ng poot at pagkamuhi. Sa ika-18 taon ng kanyang kapanganakan, rumagasa ang pinakamalakas na bagyong naranasan sa kanilang lungsod. Maraming puno ang nabuwal, maraming tahanan ang nawasak, maraming negosyo ang nasira at maraming buhay ang nawala. Hindi nakaligtas maging ang inaakalang napakatibay na tahanan ni Ybrahim, nadurog ito ng mga naglalakihang puno ng kanilang kapitbahay, maging ang mga sinasaka nila ay nasira at halos natabunan ng maiitim na putik. Agad nabalitaan ito ng kaniyang mga magulang at sa kasagsagan ng bagyo ay nagpumilit silang sumakay ng eroplano pabalik sa Pilipinas, sa kasamaang-

palad ay nasira ang pakpak ng eroplanong kanilang sinasakyan at naibalitang bumagsak sa dagat Pasipiko. Lahat ng mga naganap na ito ay nangyari mismo sa kaarawan ng binata.

Dahil dito, itinuring ng kanilang kumonidad na salot ang kawawang binata. Nanghingi si Ybrahim ng tulong sa mga kapitbahay na putulin ang mga bumulagtang punong-kahoy subalit walang nakinig sa kanyang pakiusap. Tumungo siya sa pamunuang pangbarangay upang manghingi ng konting makakain subalit sabi ng mga kagawad ay naubos at naipamigay na ang lahat ng mga relief goods. Ilang linggo siyang natulog at nanghihingi ng tulong sa daan, patuloy na bumubuhos ang ulan. Tuwing kalagitnaan ng gabi, nakikiusap siyang makitulog sa mga evacuation center, pinapayagan siya ng mga namumuno subalit pinapalayas naman siya ng kanyang mga mga kapitbahay dahil itinuturing siyang malas at isinisisi sa kanya ang kalamidad na naganap. Walang matuluyan, walang makain, walang maasahan, dahil sa mga ito ay unti-unting nagbago ang pananaw niya sa mundo at nabanggit na, “mabuti pa ang mga preso, oo may nagawa silang mali pero meron silang tinutuluyan at nakakakain kahit papaano. Ano ba ang kasalanan ko? Bakit ako nagkakaganito? Kahit kailan wala akong tinapakang tao, siguro kasalanan talaga ang pagtulong sa iba.”

Kinabukasan ay bumalik siya sa kanilang tahanang nawasak, subalit sa pagtapak pa lamang niya sa pilapil ay sinigawan na siya ng kanyang tiyuhin na huwag siyang lumapit at wala na siyang karapatan sa lugar na iyon. Nilapitan siya ng kanyang tiyuhin at isinampal sa kanya ang mga titulo ng lupa at mga ari-arian. Hindi na natiis ni Ybrahim ang mga nangyayari at pinulot niya ang nabasag na salamin at hinawakan ng mahigpit, nagdugo nang husto ang kanyang kamay. Walang anu-ano’y sinaksak niya nang paulit-ulit ang kanyang tiyuhin, sa isang kurap, nawalan ng hininga at bumulagta na nang tuluyan ang tiyuhin. Sabay sa alingawngaw ng sirena ng

pulisya ang pagluha ng kanyang mga mata. Habang siya’y pinoposas ay nagbubulungan ang mga kapitbahay niya. Nagsimula silang magsisisigaw ng, “Malas ka! Mamatay ka na!”

Sobrang sakit na ng kanyang puso, mas masakit pa sa nagdurugo niyang sugat. Sumigaw siya sa galit, “Lahat kayo rito, mga walang utang na loob! Lahat kayong nandito, papatayin o kung hindi man ay pahihirapan ng panahon, hintayin nyo lang." Binato siya ng mga mamamayan, subalit inawat ng mga pulis. Isinilid si Ybrahim sa isang kulungan kasama ng tatlo pang mga lalaki. Sa una ay maayos pa naman ang lahat, subalit makalipas ang tatlong araw ay namatay si Ybrahim. Ayon sa mediko-legal ay paulit-ulit siyang ginahasa at iniuntog sa rehas na bakal.

Isang taon matapos ng mga naganap, sa dapat na ika-19 na kaarawan ng binatang si Ybrahim, isang lindol ang sumira sa buong barangay at lahat halos ng mga mamamayan ay nailibing ng buhay, sa ibabaw ng mga wasak na tahanan ay ang bali-baling katawan ng kanyang tiyuhin.

Lahat ay nababago sa isang iglap. Maraming nagaganap kahit sa isang kurap.

BloodshotRiverofNyx

Miro Raphael Salunga

Waters shallow yet deep in solemnity

as shadow-stricken gushes move forth. Never one ferries alone to the current… Why? As day and night are all united

In one cycle of midnight and noontime the sensation never ending, as the rivers’ clandestine trail rises as the waters rain.

Beneath the cerulean reflection of eyes lies the river of Nyx—not the one resting under the gates of hell.

But one resting under the cycle of the sun and moon.

The never ending river of nighttime seems to hold coals of jet black looms.

But once curiosity has driven a lad to dive beneath the clear blue world.

Beyond the curtain underneath the pier where wood touch the ground, where metal rests forth.

To his own eyes were darkness and death two are true; one fully, one barely.

What eyes never see is what he sought in spite of the eye burning salt.

“No, that’s not black!” As hands dragged down unsuspecting kittens. Piles upon piles of lifeless shells, blood foaming the seabed. Dumped beneath the blue wide ocean served as secrets, served as spoils.

The black widowing river of Nyx lies a tale of its true colors; the bloodshot current appears as black symbolic of the never ending secrets. And those who seek its sight and its secret will also be part of the scrolls of scribes.

And so with the harrowing of the crimson morning comes the nightmare of yesterday and tomorrow—those who bear throats are gashed to be silenced, and those who speak regardless, are gashed to forever be silenced.

Photo by Crystal Anne Mallari

TheRadio Broadcaster

Reign Rose Soriano

R evealing true and honest news to the people is enough to fulfill his role in society. That’s Rence, impartial in town, he only wants to be able to deliver legitimate information to his fellow men without mixed lies. In fact, he has long served the town of Dipolog as a famous radio broadcaster. Because of his long time in this association, he was considered one of the famous broadcasters of their town. Known for name, recognized for loyalty.

There is no doubt that Rence can put himself in jeopardy as long as he eradicates the rampant spread of misinformation and makes the people who have been victims of ‘unrealistic’ news aware. But Rence's love for the country would also be the main reason of his death — which he knew would happen but would never give up his rightful beliefs.

One night, there was a dead body lying on the road. Witnesses just shuddered at the stand as they watched the victim being brutally murdered. They could not even find the faces of the criminals. But when you think about it, it's not hard to guess because they already know who the mastermind is: the loyalists. The crowd surrounded the body, most howled and others were almost on their knees on the ground. They realized that the victim was their zealous fellow who had been faithful in the service — Rence. They can't help but notice that one of their trusted broadcasters was finally found out in the blink of an eye. Without time. He was taken away unfairly. Rence was said to be a victim of riding-in-tandem. But no matter what lies the police tell, everyone knows that those behind Rence's death are the messengers of the butcher sitting in town.

TheSunderer

Miro Raphael Salunga

In the valley of solace, there is one rule

Never open thy mouth. Beyond the mountains and forests of light, Lies the eternal and mercurial village, Nestled within the whispering trees. Day is only dwindling, as the cold rises; Never will the sun rise, as the clouds

Cease to open their own lips.

And the irony of the silent valley, Lies not within the absence of noise, But the ravaging thoughts beneath a fog Of seaming silence that looms out. Those who tread the valley's path Have never seen light’s end. And the ending cast the bodies Dwindling in shadow-stricken sand.

—

Salamat

Marianne Salamanca Dibuho ni

Gema Rose Simon

ni

Rose Simon

GintongPanahon

AGlimpseofthe MissingMe

Joel Tan, Jr.

he world is changing, and so do people. The norms are breaking reality and blocking the uniqueness of certainT

individuals. I’m supposed to be flying with my wings, fluttering in the hymn of northern winds—but they are laughing at me; they are flexing their jetpack of arrogance and competing with one another whose smoke is the darkest.

I'm supposed to be dancing to the rhythm of falling rain, but they laugh at me, saying that I am crazy. It should be the water falling from the sky that gets my attention, but why are these tears in my eyes drowning and bothering me.

I want to do what I want, but this world is restricting my movements and trying to modify me. All my happiness is being dissolved by this judgmental society. How am I supposed to be free? I am missing my own self and I am afraid that I will not be myself anymore. It is the scariest feeling that I have ever felt.

Amidst the blurry fog of my real identity, I still hope that one day I can be myself again—without hesitation or doubt. I am caged by norms; I am in this filthy cellar created by society. In this cellar, I am crying and laughing on my own, enjoying my suffering. Beside me is a ghost of my real identity and I am begging him not to let go.

Why can't I even blink my eyes without someone watching me? Please tell me.

Lullabiesof theLeaves

Miro Raphael Salunga

Listen to the calm song, it's as if one is singing along to the creak of the spring wind in harmony. The little melodies ramping up, singing to me, whispering coldly to my ear despite the warmth of the spring gale. The melodies are mere murmurs— humming and humming. The hums are calming yet austere; kind but adamant, whispering to my ear. I tried to look out for the melody

I could never find the singer. The lullabies I heard on a spring day were mere murmurs when the hourglass haven't dropped its sand. Now as the pocket watch ticks, I can hear the whispers of the leaves; they are the singer it seemed. The calm melodies and soulful harmonies of the leaves and spring wind, faded, only to be replaced by a cry — haunting. The cries seemed like the pleas of a banshee being shot by a thousand guns, stabbed by a thousand knives, and gored by a thousand chainsaws. It started with a lullaby, now it is an amalgamation of horrific sounds. Yet no one can hear... no one listens...

Photo by Alfred Lauren Camacho

FinishingMyRace

Joel Tan, Jr.

Thousands of lightning following my track. My steps should be fast and furious. If I stumble, I will surely die. I will make

sure to keep my music playing in the background and curtains if my show never closes. As the quicksand keeps trying to drag me down into the darkness of the abyss, I believe I can still run and escape my death. There is someone tailing me. The vampire of corruption keeps chasing me to suck dry my hopeful blood. Biting my happiness and enjoying licking my determination. My blood is drenching my path, it was a battle I fear the most. I want to rest, but I should not. The finish line is up ahead!

The ground started to shake and was trying to shake me off. I am afraid, but I will keep my pace and hold on to my dreams. I can endure it all, the bruises from the scorching stones of sorrow. Wounds caused by thorns of oblivion, and a laceration from the blades of depression.

I know that I am a warrior, but no one in this cursed world can see these injuries in me. I don’t care, I stand my own ground and believe in my own faith.

I am willing to help others who have tripped in their own race. As a true warrior like them, I have no right to mock them. At the very end of the day, those who mock one another will always end up stumbling.

And someday they will be begging me to help them. But when that time comes, I am already at my finish line, and I can lend no arms to them. From a distance, I can only watch them finish their very own race.

Dibuho ni

BangungotMuli

Erica Perez

inalot ng kadiliman ang gabi at ang simoy ng hangin ay tila nakapapanindig-balahibo sa lamig. Sa kabila ngB

nakapapagod na mundo, napagpasyahan na lamang ilapat ang likod sa matigas na papag na kawayan na sinapinan ng kumot, sabay ipinikit ang mga mata. Nagising na kumakaripas ng takbo sa daang paulit-ulit na binabagtas, sinubukan pa ngang baliktarin ang suot na sando pero paikot-ikot pa rin sa iisang kanto habang hinahabol ang paghinga at pilit na tinatakasan ang nagdaan.

Naninikip ang dibdib na tila ba may nakadagang sako-sakong pasanin. Isang halimaw – halimaw na marami at malalaki ang mga galamay na lahat tayo ay minamanipula. Sinasakal gamit ang mga kamay na may bahid ng karungisan hanggang sa hindi na makahinga, ang nakaraang binabago at puwersahang isinasalaksak sa ating mga bibig upang matahimik, may mga alagad pang nagpapalaganap ng maling impormasyon upang mabulag sa kasinungalingan, at ang mikroponong nagsisiwalat ng kanilang mga katiwalian ay puwersahang tinatanggal sa saksakan upang hindi na muling makapagsalita.

Pero hindi pa roon nagtatapos, dahil nagsisimula pa lamang ulit sila. Nagpupumiglas, pilit na lumalaban at sumisigaw, umaasang may makaririnig at tutugon.

Subalit siya ay naglabas ng isa pang sandata, na kahit anong tulin sa pagtakbo, at gaano pa karahan sa pagkubli ay manginginig ang laman dahil sa sindak ng bawat kalawit nito sa gatilyo, at “shoot them dead” utos pa nito. Walang habas na pinapaslang ang lahat ng hahadlang sa plano. Bagaman walang takot sa mga sindikato, hihirangin pa ring ihayag ang dapat at ilantad ang katotohanang tinalilikuran ng iba. Kahit anong pagpapatahamik nila sa boses ng masa, lilitaw pa rin ang katunayan mula noong nakaraan hanggang sa ngayong kasalukuyan na pinagdidiskusyonan, dahil sa bawat bangungot na nilalabanan, darating pa rin ang oras ng pagbangon at pagbukas ng mga mata na hindi na kailanman pipikit pa.

BUWAYA

NagtatagongAnyo

Gwen Vinuya

Sa maskarang nakabalot sa kanilang mga mukha

Sa mga pangakong inilalahad nila sa madla Kailan nga ba tayo matututo? Na buksan ang ating mga mata

At pumuna nang husto Payo nila’y nasa iyong boto Ang kapangyarihan tungo sa pagbabago Mga ninakaw na salapi Kailan natin mababawi? Ninakaw na ilaw ng pag asa? Kailan ulit natin matatamasa?

TheKing,TheKnight, andTheSword

Miro Raphael Salunga

It's a cliché in fairy tales to mention a land far, far away; once upon a time. Tales of castles and kings, princesses and princes, knights and queens. I see their rule — above a castle high. A king hands his sword down to his subjects — to defend his kingdom, his honor, and his desires. The regaled tale by bards and wanderers — that the king hands his sword down to his subject.

A knight is born in his name, and a sword is what he wields while riding in his horse. Valiantly, he charges at the front lines — to fight in the war of the centuries. "For the King! For the Kingdom! For Honor!" he screams in excitement with his sword in hand. Now in his horse he rides towards the village, to fight the pillagers that pilfer the homes and the treasures of the peasants. He slays them all of course, with a quick swoop of his blade — all are killed. Honored he went back to his king and bowed upon the golden throne he sat upon and the rapier that knighted him. The war was over and the sword he holds, holds no purpose, holds no throats to slit upon by its blade.

The king refused to revoke the blade, and ordered upon the knight to use it — to cut down those who oppose. Now the peasants cry upon the famine brought upon by the sheer cold. The knight heard it all and to defend the king's name — carnage, what a carnage it was, when he swinged his valiant blade.

The crimson blood of the people of yore are like palettes spilled upon a canvas of their hall painters. The king has not heard, the knight does not believe, and only the blade remembers the corpse it cut down; it only knows how much it cut, but the king does not see, the knight cut down, but the orders resonated in the blade. The carnage in the cold winter snow; the painting of a grotesque massacre. Was it the king, the knight or the sword?

PURPLE: CORRUPTINGTHE SACREDHISTORY

Joel Tan, Jr.

've seen everything. I sacrificed everything: my pride, my hope, and my life to be a mirror of the past. I see countless tears dropping like rain in the promised land.

I was immersed in the reflection of agony and fear, and I can barely move seeing how we suffer that much. Within my chambers, I heard them complaining and asking for someone's help, but they are too scared to shout for their rights and freedom. Why? Because they felt like there was a gun directly pointed at their heads from afar—one wrong move or one wrong word, and their blood would flood the room that witnessed their pain.

They live in their graves, singing praises to the pyrite throne of the crimson king, with a fake smile, with fake happiness. I can see it in their eyes—that's why I secretly took over to send help in the distant future. I wrote this history with my blood as a tint and pride of a historian. I can barely breathe because the sadness and fear are breathtaking.

I heard about a false informant in the ancient prophecy, saying that they would modify the truth about the past to protect the reign of greed. I laughed, because who else will believe them as we write the whole truth as accurately as we see it? My colleagues provided an immense amount of evidence.

I was so confident that our sacrifices would be a gateway to real freedom and happiness. But what the hell is happening to the Promised Land?! I'm watching from heaven. The pain that I suffered, which I thought was once gone, is starting to go back. I wish I was there to tell you the whole truth again.

Stabbedtoblindness

Joel Tan, Jr.

It’s so dark, is anyone around? Can you hear me?

My blood stinks, my eyes can’t stop bleeding

I can see no light, my dreams were engulfed in darkness

I can’t watch my corpse decay;

my soul is still in tacked in this fragile body.

I don’t know but I don’t care anymore

Maybe I deserve this pain, maybe I deserve to suffer

My life in this Earth’s surface is useless

I was a good kid, but why do I receive so much pain?

I was neglected, I was hated, I was nothing but a rat in a filthy sewer of my world

I don’t want to see myself anymore, I’m afraid to be myself anymore

I wish I was dead but still, I’m waiting for someone—

I’m waiting for you.

Please hug me, please be my eyes, please be my hope.

I don’t want to be alone.

Can you bring me something to eat?

I am so hungry and starving for attention.

Someone, look at me, I stabbed my eyes to blindness

My blood was already mixed with my sweat

But I refuse to die yet.

Please bring me some water, I’m so thirsty.

My throat was just so tired screaming your name.

Please be by my side, before I gasp my last air

Let me feel some warmth before I turn cold.

Pawis

Dibuho ni

Lambert Manuel

AEulogytoHeroism A prose declaration

Miro Raphael Salunga

Togive

Toforget

one’s life for something bigger than one’s self—that is the essence of being a hero. As history is paved by numerous sacrifices to allow the blossoming of the cause that they fight for. And to call them the champions of who we are today exudes the significance of those who died by bloodshed, and this in itself is not an understatement. their sacrifices is nothing but an insult to time itself, as a period in one’s past is culled. The worst part about how memories marched on—the concept of heroism is neither culled nor erased but instead went on to be twisted and morphed. Indeed, everything evolves to fit society, but never will evolution be fulfilling if it bends to one whim. And this forgetfulness, this distortion is near impossible to salvage.

a hero, one perceives a fight against evil. To defeat a bigger force requires essential sacrifice. And those who sit upon the pedestal of malevolence will do their best to erase their wickedness from the minds of those. As if a forward march led by light is reaped by darkness from backwards strike. And those from the pack who were sheltered from the cold chose to be frigid. It is saddening, but shadows have indeed taken over.

what heroism once was is not impossible. But the hearts of today prove the flight of the crows. The essence twisted, heroism is not the moral sacrifice anymore, but through the fogging of coherent thoughts morphed into idolatry. As the people of today eye their heroes as those who fit their raging flames.

RedLights AreNotGreen

Valerie Gael Dimarucot

The 2022 Philippine elections have come and gone. The streets were filled with jeepneys and their campaign jingles, walls plastered with countless candidates; and supporters dressed in their representative colors for campaign rallies. It was indeed a time when the want for change was rampant, and it was evident in the spirit of these candidates who wanted the best nation for each and every Filipino citizen. However, not everybody can be a winner in the elections, for it was still a matter of who got the most votes.

The whole country held their breath as the results were tallied and announced. Indeed, we all have our own preferred candidates, and with every passing second, minute, and hour, we hope to see their votes placed in the highest spot. Nonetheless, now that we know who the winners are—be it our preferred candidates or not—it is just a matter of time before they are inaugurated in their position. However, it cannot be denied that the list of candidates who won for the governmental posts was questionable, especially in terms of their pending court rulings. One of those politicians is incoming Senator Jose "Jinggoy" Estrada. In 2014, he was charged by the Ombudsman for plunder and several counts of graft. He allegedly misused ₱183.8 million from his Priority Development Assistance Fund (PDAF), or what was known as the pork-barrel fund system. He was detained but got out on bail, and his case remains pending as of today. Following him is current Senator Bong Revilla, whose six-year term ends in 2025. He allegedly earned ₱224.5 million from funneling the pork barrel through fake nongovernmental organizations (NGOs)

which were linked to Janet Napoles. However, after 4 years of having been imprisoned, he was acquitted of his case in 2018, though his graft cases are still undergoing trial.

Nonetheless, we have to look at the whole picture. If these people, despite having been convicted criminals or suspects of a crime, are still able to run for a governmental position just because their cases are pending. Then, what about the average citizen, who, when applying for a job, has to have no "taint" in their records. And if they did, then their chances of landing a decent profession are a million to one. Just from that simple comparison, we can see how unfair the system really is. Republic Act No. 6713, which is the Code of Conduct and Ethical Standards for Public Officials and Employees, lacks any sort of mention regarding banning any aspiring candidate who has been convicted of a crime from running for a governmental position. It is obvious just how privileged these candidates and politicians are as compared to us average citizens. Even so, it should be ingrained in our minds that candidates who have been convicted of a crime have lost their right to lead us Filipinos.

Furthermore, many candidates are usually from well-known families who for generations have run in various governmental positions, cementing their family name in the minds of Filipinos. It is often these family names that many Filipinos choose to vote for during the elections due to their familiarity with the names. With this in tow, candidates who are convicted criminals or suspected of a crime are still able to get into governmental positions. In our country, where disinformation is spreading like wildfire, with social media platforms like Facebook and TikTok being the biggest sources, painting these candidates in a better, brighter light and completely erasing their once tainted images. According to Jervis Manahan, a news reporter from ABS-CBN, "the biggest challenge is disinformation."

Miro Raphael Salunga

Now, th pass a soul

minutes

fallen

lence for the only homages

fallen s sile

Kyla Napo pula

Alagad ng kasinungalingan. Panatiko ng katiwalian. Hanggang kailan niyo balak manaig sa lipunan? Hanggang saan aabot ang impluwensya ng inyong pekeng katotohanan?

Sa halip na lumaganap at mag-hari ang katarungan ay pilit pa ring sinasakyan ang mga kamalian. Sa mapait na mundong ginagalawan, katakot-takot na tadhana ang kalakip ng kahirapan. Kung kasalanan ang pagiging salat sa kayamanan, patawarin nawa ang mga yumaong ipinaglaban ang karapatan hanggang kamatayan. Dahil ang hustisyang dapat sana ay para sa kanila, ay pinipilit na mapasakamay ng mga pula.

Imulat ang mga mata at buksan ang mga tainga sa mga nakapapanindig-balahibong kuwentong taliwas sa katotohanang pilit na isinusubo at nilulunok ng madla.

BULSA

Donna Angelica Panlican Dibuho ni

nakakatakotkumurap

Joel Tan, Jr.

Kay bilis ng mga pangyayaring nagaganap

Ang daming nababago sa isang iglap

Lubhang kay bilis ng mga nawawasak na pangarap

Kay raming bagay na di ko halos matanggap

Nakakatakot kumurap

Baka mamaya nasa singkwenta na ang kilo ng bigas Nakakaiyak dahil 'yong mga magsasaka ng Pilipinas, Nagmamakaawa dahil sa napakamura ng kilo ng kanilang ani Ang importasyon naman mula sa ibang bansa ay lalong dumarami Nakakatakot kumurap

Baka mamaya tumaas nang husto ang presyo ng petrolyo

'Yong tipong isang daan na kada litro

Paano naman 'yong mga tsuper, sila naman ang namamaltrato?

Paano sila kakain kung unti-unti silang pinaguguho?

Nakakatakot kumurap

Baka mamaya baka pati presyo ng gamot ay di na maabot Paano na kaming mahihirap, ang aming kahihinatnan ay kakilakilabot

Nakakatakot kumurap

Ang ating mga teritoryo ay kinukuha na ng mga Tsino

Paano na tayong mga Pilipino, inaapi at inaabuso

Ninanakawan ng karapatan at puso

Nakakatakot kumurap

Baka mamaya patuloy pang magmahal ang mga bilihin

Paano ang mga mamamayan mo, o bayan ko, kami ay nabibigti at nabibitin

Nakakatakot kumurap

Ang katumbas ng piso sa dolyares ay lalong tumataas Ang bawat kasiyahan ay nalalagas

Ang kapangyarihan ng Pilipinas ay lalong nadudulas

Nakakatakot kumarap

Nais kong masilayan ang mga magaganap

Kung paano ito maka-aapekto sa natatangi kong pangarap

Nais kong makita kung ano ang hitsura ng hinaharap

theboyandthesir

Mika Elea Pamintuan

run, boy, run into the roads half-done, into the forgotten land. run, sir, run into the high throne, into the palace you were once banned. jump higher, boy, jump reach outside the slum, reach for their corrupting palms. jump higher, sir, jump reach for the highest top, reach pass the stop.

eat, boy, eat the hopes and dreams they killed, that one gram of sweet lie you need. eat, sir, eat the dishonest ballots you keep, that thirty-one million victims who are now bittersweet. obey, boy, obey as they say hear their promises today, but remember not to fall prey. rule, sir, rule smile now as you make us fool, but remember that a palace made of lies is bound to fall.

Eyes

Miro Raphael Salunga

They have taken knives, and stabbed you in the back, gouged your eyes, and split your tongue into two The horrors are seen by those who still kept their eyes, and haven't been cut by their dull blades

Yet you have kept all the pain, and along with those, you kept your admiration

How can some be so numb, so naïve, for they have already been blinded, silenced and killed, Yet they still feel joy when the rusty knives has gouged them Oh, they don’t have eyes anymore.

RED LIGHTS ARE NOT GREEN cont. Fake news these days has become so believable to the point where it is easily accepted as the truth. And this fake news could not only cleanse the image of a candidate, but it could also taint a clean image, which further shows just how powerful disinformation really is.

We Filipinos deserve leaders who are selfless, righteous, and law-abiding citizens themselves. As compared to other countries in the world, they do not elect criminals, and government officials who are found guilty are shunned by the public—never to be listened to again. If we want change to happen in our country, we have to start with our government. For they are the lawmakers, the ones holding the reins in our country. There should be amendments to Republic Act No. 6713, wherein candidates who are convicted of a crime are not allowed to run for any governmental position. There should be no special treatment, rich or poor, well-known family name or not. It is indeed their own actions and decisions that led them to such a place. In addition, pending cases of aspiring candidates and politicians should immediately be looked into, a thorough investigation be done, and to come up with a decision.

Justice needs to be served to those who deserve it, and proper and just punishment given to those who do not. Not only that, but the Department of Education along with the Commission on Higher Education, should consider measures to strengthen their curriculum. Especially since students these days are the ones who are frequent social media users, thus they need to be guided in what to believe and what not to. Children very easily believe what they see and hear, and it is up to schools as well as parents to guide them towards the truth.

All in all, criminals should never be given the reins to lead a country. No matter the ties they have, the money, and the name. We need to open our eyes and mind to the world and not be blinded by the lies we are constantly fed and surrounded with. We should have ingrained into our minds that we Filipinos need better leaders in order for our country to move forward and rise from poverty and corruption.

We have to be able to differentiate the wrong from the right, and realize that at the end of the day, it is really us citizens that the government needs to be able to function. For without its people, there can be no government, and without the people, there can be no country.

Danianna Marie Musni Youare

No, you are not blind

See those eyes?

Those eyes who were once hopeful; Hoping for peace, justice, and equality a change; A change that we never possessed, yet we already let go. No, you are not deaf Hear those voices, those voices who were pleading, pleading to be heard and understood, they did try, they tried but we didn’t listen

We want progress as a fruit, then why do we keep choosing from the same roots; We want rays of light to shine, however, darkness intertwined

Dibuho ni Marianne Salamanca

Tumindig

Liza Bianca Tacliad

Ang pagiging mulat ay ang pagtanggap sa katotohanan. ‘Wag mong hayaang mag-hari ang korapsyong salot sa ating lipunang kinagagalawan.

Panghawakan mo ang mga katunayan ‘Wag biguin ang darating na kasaysayan.

tagu-taguan

Crystal Anne Mallari

Tagu-taguan, maliwanag ang buwan, pagbilang ko ng sampu nakatago na kayo. Isa, isang desisyon ang iyong pinanghawakan Dalawa, tatlong beses mong pinagisipan

Apat na taon ang iyong ilalaan Lima, anim, pito, hindi na mabilang ilang beses na pinagdudahan ang desisyon na ipinaglaban. Walo, siyam na oras ang inilalaan bawat araw upang maabot ang titulong gustong makamtan.

At pagbilang ko ng sampu, napagtanto na ito pa lamang ang simula ng laban.

Kasabay ng pagmulat ng mga mata, ang pagkamulat sa katotoohan. Patuloy na lalaban, para sa inang bayan.

Reign Rose Soriano

Editor

News Editor

Pearl Angeli Sabal

Opinion Editor

Marco

Valerie Gael Dimarucot • DevComm Editor

Kyla

Christian Gener Buenaventura • Senior Correspondent

kakaroon ng pagkakataon na mamulat ang isang tao para sa kanyang bayan ay hindi ng para sa mga bagay na nakikita ng ating mga mata Ang pagiging “mulat” ay ang han ng iyong puso’t isip na makita ang mga bagay na syang nakaka apekto sa ating n Hindi lamang ito hahangga sa mga bagay na iyong nakikita gamit ang iyong mga ang taong tunay na mulat ay handang imulat ang kanyang sarili sa mga bagay na asisilayan kahit ito pa ang mga larawan na masakit kung pagmasdan Ang tunay na mulat ay ang pakikialam sa mga bagay na syang magpapabuti sa ating bayan.

Others can see the light and fear the darkness. Others embra darkness and hate light. Do not forget that light can be blinding darkness, and darkness will be invisible without light. Sa madali lawakan at laliman mo ang iyong pagintindi at pang unawa Hind nakikita mo ay totoo, dahil madalas ang kanilang baho, sa an nagtatago Huwag kang maging bulag at huwag ka ring maging

Liza Bianca Tacliad

• Senior Correspondent

mulat ay ang pagtanggap sa katotohanan, ayaang mag hari ang kasinungalingan, yroong pinanghahawakang katunayan.

Joel Tan, Jr. • Senior Correspondent

Gwen Vinuya • Junior Correspondent

Ang pagiging mulat ay hindi lamang kabuklod sa kaalama nangyayari, hindi sapat ang pagtitig ng iyong mga mata sa i bagkus ito ay nasasalamin rin sa pag gamit mo ng iyong b magpahayag, makialam at pumuna ng mali. Ang pagiging mu lamang kaakibat ng iyong mga mata, ito ay kaakibat ng pagpapahalaga sa karapatan at sa bayan.

Miro Raphael Salunga • Junior Correspondent

e beyond the darkness, beyond the veils and mists of deception—that is the ence of enlightenment To see dawn at the horizon of shadows, or to make own twilight; with the will to create the final luminescence that will never usk. Here lie the deeds of darkness, of bloodshed, violence, war, and chaos. The essence of justice, therefore, is to be a beacon past the fog

Diana Mae Micua • Junior Correspondent

Ang pagiging mulat ay katumbas ng pagkakaroon ng kamalayan, pagiging bukas ng isipan, at pagkilala sa katotohanan. Ito ay isang katangiang magpapaunlad sa ating pagkatao at magpapalawig ng ating kaalaman.

Faith Dela Peña • Junior Correspondent

Matatawag na mulat ang isang indibidwal kung nauunawaan niya ang mga pangyayari nang higit sa kung anong pisikal na pakahulugang kayang ipaintindi ng mga mata Mulat ang isang taong sabay sabay na nakakikita, nakaririnig, nakadadama, at nakauunawa ng mga bagay sa paligid niya

Huwag magbulag bulagan Huwag magbingi bingihan Huwag mangambang isiwalat ang katotohanan upang tunay na kapayapaan at kasarinlan ay makamtan

Gema Rose Simon • Junior Cartoonist

Habang dahan dahan nating iminumulat ang ating mga mata sa reyalidad ng ating buhay, tayo’y nagiging sensitibo’t maaaring tumugon sa mga naka paligid. Sa pag mulat ng mga mata makikita ang kakayahan na manindigan at maging matatag upang makapag lingkod sa bayan Huwag mag bulag bulagan sa mga nakikita, talasan ang pakiramdam at imulat ang matang nais masilayan ang karilagan ng katotohanan Pakinggan ang tama’t mali, itama ang mga mali

Christopher Lambert Manuel • Junior Cartoonist

Kahit anong pilit na itago may masasabi at masasabi pa rin dahil may nakikita ang mga mata.

Danianna Marie Musni • Junior Correspondent

Trisha Kaye Dela Cruz • Senior Cartoonist

Tanggalin ang piring sa iyong mga mata. Ang pagbubulag bulagan sa baluktot

sistema

ating lipunan

isang kasalanan sa kabataan

tapat

malinis

gobyerno.

Aldrin John Abraham • Senior Layout Artist

Gamitin ang mga mata upang maging isang instrumento ng pagbaba ang bawat pagmulat

mga mata

kaakibat

Ashley Rud Cris Robosa • Senior Layout Artist

The truth is in the eyes of the beholder,

when

refuse to open them and look

Jesel Crizza Mae Jamig • Senior Layout Arti

Madilim pa rin ba? Ipagpapatuloy mo pa rin ba ang pagkakapa’t pag-gapang makatawid sa sinulid ng karukhaan? Pwede ka namang tumayo at sumilip mu hanapin yung liwanag sa daan Upang hindi ka na dadapa ulit para dilaan ang mga sapatos. Hindi mo alam, sa iyong pagmulat, ikaw pala ang liwanag na nagn sa gitna ng kadiliman Huwag maging duwag para makita ang katotohanan, im mo itong sandata para sa laban na walang katapusan. Hindi na muling magsisi takipsilim dahil wala ng ang dilim

Antonette Serrano • Junior Layout Artist

TUMINDIG KA! Hindi tayo bulag, pipi, at bingi ngunit ayaw nating im ating mga mata sa bagay na ipinagsisigawan na ang reyalidad ba nagiging pipi at bingi sa mga balitang puro bahid ng kasinungalin

Marianne Salamanca • Junior Layout Artist

Mulat means to be conscious and fully aware of truth and reality. It entails allowing oneself to acknowledge what has happened and create actions for what will happen in the future. It is synonymous to being wide awake. Just as we wake up from slumber, our consciousness gradually makes our head clear and starts to plan out our entire day ahead; where mulat also does the same.

Alfred Lauren Camacho • Photojournalist

Mulat ang isa sa pinakamahirap na gawin ng isang tao sa katotohanan na nakikita, pilit na nagbubulag bulagan sa mga nangyayari sa paligid kahit sandamakmak na katotohanan ang naka hain. Kailangang nating maging mulat sa katotohanan upang tayo'y umusad at umunlad.

Erica Perez • Photojournalist

Mga matang nais pumikit dahil sa katakot takot na mga pangyayari, nakakapanindig balahibong nakaraan at kinabukasang walang katiyakan, ngunit mananatiling mulat, dahil sa isang kurap makakaranas ng anim na taong paghihirap.