Breathe - Reflections Literary & Art Folio 2022

The annual literary art folio of The Trailblazer, the Official Student Publication of University of Science and Technology of Southern PhilippinesCagayan de Oro Campus.

All published articles of the individual authors do not necessarily reflect the position of the Editorial Board. All articles are edited for reasons of space, clarity, and ethics.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication maybe reproduced or recopied in part or in full without a written consent from the writer(s), the artist(s), and the current adviser of this publication.

Just as we're about to burst into tears, agonizing over things we can no longer handle, bewildered by how life takes the best out of everyone, we are then reminded to take a step back, detach and breathe. We now live in a difficult time, in an unfavorable space. Looking back on how we got to where we are now is one way of coping with the distress and suffering that we are feeling. We have gradually adapted to the world. It's high time that we adapt to the changes we've imposed upon ourselves and reflect on how we want to live our lives to the fullest extent possible.

Words by Arnel James Y. Suprito Cover by Mark Jerome A. Orejenes Layout by Ryan Rashed O. Dongiapon

MESSAGE FROM THE EDITOR IN CHIEF

Lift your head, baby, don't be scared

Of the things that could go wrong along the way You'll get by with a smile

You can't win at everything, but you can try - With A Smile by Eraserheads

The moment you wake up, you’ll encounter another morning, another struggle, another battle to conquer. In that instance, you know it will never give you the perfect assurance of having a comforting day and a winning point. Perhaps, it will be a 50-50 incident – you might win or you might lose. If you win, you’ll get the feeling of being satisfied, driven, and happy. If you lose, you’ll get the feeling of being unfulfilled, unmotivated, and unlucky – sometimes, you’ll see yourself as less than others which could lost your appetite and interest to continue and try again.

On the battlefield of life, it’s indeed uncertain, the odds are not always on your side, and that you need to pull every inch of you to somehow secure a victory. And probably, it will be more extrinsic and not intrinsic. You’ll play hard just to avoid losing and forget to realize the real value of such play – to learn and personally reward yourself regardless of what you have achieved. Yes, it’s undeniable that you are now fighting for the sake of winning and happiness. But until when can you stick to that kind of mindset? Are you not tired? Are you really not?

As human as you are, you should learn to see your own value rather than giving more weight to the thoughts that people throw at you. It’s not them who’s in your battle. Remember that the moment you sleep, it’s you alone. The moment you open your eyes, it’s you who will face the rise of the sun until it sets. Reflect now, that you can’t win every battle, and that you don’t have to win such fight. Sometimes, you need to loosen up, not just to give others the chance to win, but in order to give yourself the time to know its worth, the rest that you deserve, the air that you need, and the enough moment to breathe after the hundred fights that you have faced.

On behalf of The Trailblazer Publication, I would like to extend my sincere gratitude to the people who supported our endeavors and contributed to this year’s Literary Art Folio – Reflections 2022. Your heartfelt and amazing pieces have made this one complete. May you keep on being part of this, and remember life as a beautiful sea – salty and sometimes messy, however try to lift your head, look to the sky, feel the breeze, make a smile, and take a deep breathe.

Ryan L. Ga-as

MESSAGE FROM THE CHAIRPERSONS

Funny how even routines never stay routines, right? At some point, the things that we used to just eventually flips and find ourselves in a different scene. And so here we are, still, in a pandemic but a little better. Majority of things have changed since its advent, for better or worse – lifestyle, behavior, perspective, perhaps even the whole wellbeing for some people had a major refashion. This adversity has undeniably affected our lives in many ways.

Talking about the present, for sure somewhere along this rollercoaster ride, exhaustion eventually catches up. Some may be at their wit's end desperate to keep themselves together. Some crumble – dry and lifeless as though the very last ounce of their strength have been pushed to the limit. More often than we admit to realize, we tend to be deeply enthralled on things that we believe will bring us to our success, not that it’s bad. However, we should know that while all these efforts are for noble pursuits, it shouldn’t come at the cost of our sanity. We must allow ourselves to get the rest we deserve, whatever form that may be for us. Our goals and dreams are our priorities but the last thing we want is for these priorities to suck the life out of us.

I hope that as you read this folio, from this point onwards, you’ll be taking it slow, savoring every sweet moment that comes your way because life is already hard as it is. Keep going, keep striving, and above all else, breathe.

Gerson John P. Salvacion

Humans were designed to go through both hell and paradise; what that version of hell or paradise is, then, doesn’t really matter. I know for a fact that we have all felt euphoria and hysteria in this lifetime, and sometimes, one takes place more than the other. There is no escape or loophole. We face problems, fears, and bad luck, but we also get to experience joy, wonder, and pleasure in return. It’s a cycle that can be very overwhelming. As I said, there’s no escape, but maybe, just maybe, the temporary, stolen escapes suffice and count. In moments when we go out and watch the thousand stars blotted in the infinite darkness, or when we spend some time in the quiet, unloading our hectic machinery of a mind. Even just a minute or two of detachment buys us enough time to feel a redeeming peace that could save us forever. Even if it’s just a wink of an eye, a fraction of a fraction of the smallest fraction, the pause still refuels us and reminds us that we are here, now, more alive than ever.

The poems, essays, short stories, artworks, and photographs here in this Literary and Art Folio are moments of temporary escape for people like you and me who seek stability in this ever-changing world. Maybe in the vast face of the universe, these words and artworks mean nothing, but for us, humans, who were designed to feel, inhabit, and experience heaven and hell on Earth, our art is everything.

I am grateful to have witnessed how much beauty and passion we have in all of us. Let this folio serve as a reminder that every bit of us matters; the productive, the sad, the lively, and the confused. You Matter. So loosen up, unclench your jaw, scroll through the pages, and breathe.

Eriel Indira Albarece

TRANQUIL SEA

jyre

The wrath of Poseidon took control of my emotions.

Within me, a cyclone is in motion. Bolts of frustration, violent waves of anger, And the unending downpour of tears. Becoming one with the storm is what I had always feared.

The currents that kept dragging me down, And the pressure that suffocated me to drown. The emotions that I couldn't subdue. I held it in until it violently grew.

In the end I had to let it loose, I had to release the chaos. Until the ocean in my heart calms down, I continued to cry as the sea rages in the background.

SOLITUDE

Carla Mae Egama

RESPIRE

Lady Trisha Salazar

Unwritten sheets on the table; An ink-filled pen on my hand Can I still wondrously scribble; Or am I just plainly inscribing anything on sand?

In lieu of dwelling in distress, I went through the door; Grabbed a cup And took off from the mess.

Epiphanies swirled in mind; ‘Seek, think and you shall find’ And so, I remained outside and gasped for air; Pouring what’s in front of me with unswerving stares.

A question surfaced inside, Took shape in the nick of time; Aren’t we supposed to spend our days living?

Running into nothing but a euphoric feeling and rather stuffing days with the joys of spring?

Well, that’s what I thought when I was younger that maybe one day, I’d reach the goal of being happier. Surely, life does not always go according to plan As they say, misfortunes have to be dealt by man.

That extreme pressure was seemingly suffocating me, Only because I foolishly forgot how to breathe.

CUP OF COFEE

smqt

You’re like a cup of coffee. You’re the kind of taste I need to savor When I wake up on a cold dreamy day. Your steaming aroma warms my longing soul. Your warmth comforts my resting heart. You’re the tempting brew my mouth seeks; Every sip I lusciously get lost in. Truly, you are my cup of coffee.

inwardly of you all.

Anxiousness, dismay, grieving and dreadful pains bother you internally. Wounding your way of breathing. Innermost. What's the sense of it all? You apparently ask and think profoundly while fighting your own devils that are jumping on the top of your shoulders in these days of frantic insaneness. Put your hand above your chest. Listen. Wordlessly. Do you perceive it? 'Click-clack. Click-clack'.

That's the point. The inducement. You. Nonetheless hard perhaps; retain that sound going. It's not straightforward, I know. However, fight vigorously.

We all have our own dancing steps. And life constantly changes the music. Nonetheless if I may, I want to tell you this: Don't ever stop dancing.

Intermittently, you will topple. Attempting to follow the music, but still, there will be days when you make your own music. Kick off your shoes with your steps. And with that sound arising out from your chest. So just breathe. Ceaselessly. Never-say-die. Hang on. Dance to the beat of your dreams. DauntlesslyYou are powerful.

A BROKEN GIRL

Rhoda

A

broken girl

With nothing left to feel Nowhere to go but down And a wound no one can heal.

She stood on the bridge In silence and fear, For the demons of darkness Had driven her here.

Coldness closes in all around As her shattered soul falls to the ground.

Teardrops fall from the skies Raindrops form in her eyes The hurting goes so deep Starlit sky burns out as she weep.

Tears of fury, cries of hate As she cursed her destined fate.

Her walls break down, Exposes the world outside And reminds her of every time she tried Reminding her of all she couldn't be She chose this lie, wove her fantasy.

She wanted happiness for a while, at least And by doing so she unleashed a beast That took happiness and left only pain Turned her world black Her dreams now slain.

So on the bridge she stood, About to end the fight. But then she stopped and thought: I'll fight them one more night.

THE OVERCOMING

aelizir

There is a strange melancholia when epiphany settles in and when just before these soft hands learn to unclasp whatever it is that doesn’t want to be held, the disintegrating memories come in flashes and whispers. Your voice echoes in my brain and burns but how funny it is that the way I remember your warm hands on mine felt like a folklore now; a tale so old and forgotten.

I can finally look back and say without hesitation that past is indeed past;

Leave it all behind.

Precious Hope T. Jumuad

UNWIND

Angela Balsomo

THEATER

What a marvelous play!

All strings attached

She goes away And sang her part.

How lovely she is! The way she smiles Her cries are beautiful And she was made.

Thundering claps!

Cheerful voices! The crowd is loud And she was not. She bows her head And fakes a smile Her tears inside Are nothing to hide.

What is the mind When she was bind Her voice inside Is trying to lie. The curtain closed And there she goes A mask was formed And she was trapped.

PRETTY CREATURE Serenecarnation

Alone creature, At the corner of the room Why are you hiding there? Don’t you know you are meant to bloom?

Wanderer of life, Amidst strange reality— It’s alright to rest And get back as an eagle-mighty.

Little fragile lad, At the steepness of his doubts— Somebody believes in you, Even at times your heart’s in droughts.

Imagine a play, And you are the director— You’re the one who’ll decide, You’ll paint everything to color.

There’s a warmth in you Waiting for your heart to fuel Breathe the spring air and hope You are more than just being well.

Pretty creature, At the corner of the room, Get up, this life is yours Face the bright East and show your bloom.

Dear Sun is waiting, Seize the day wanderer Summit’s waiting for you, Your inner self and the world is yours to wonder.

Charmer Caster

MISERY

The gloomy weather isolates people in their anguish, Have you ever seen the silhouette of trees against a lowering sky? Rain fell down, and butterflies’ wings were broken.

This gnawing agony, Like the perplexing thoughts that accompanied the remorse, Left scars on my restless soul.

Misery has imprisoned me, and my spirit has been shattered But I rose to my feet and tore down the barriers, Step on the trash as I walked through the cinders, I felt impelled to patch up my own puncture.

A SWEET DEPART

Stellar

We left the crowd to dance upon green pastures and calm, gentle breeze, we shared our troubles to the sun and slowly drove our hearts at ease.

Spring’s whisper tamed thy frantic storm, your soothing voice calmed thine own heart here above whilst wild carnations bloom, the leaves sing of our sweet depart.

Heard the loud busy streets no more, smiled at the striving kids, ‘Adieu!’

We passed by primordial turmoil, and the world passed by us in lieu.

For sun spilled honey on the hill, four-leaf clovers profusely beamed. The ambience now felt better and real, we braced the promise to be freed.

Our drudging days now in hindsight, we’ll sing of how the world was kind, sway with the wind and drift apart, onto the green land we will find.

AWAKEN I WAS ONE MORNING

Lady Trisha Salazar

Awaken I was one morning, to the fragrance of flowers’ beauty and colors showing; Remnants of the early morning sun tiptoed, bathing the room where I lay; Thus, giving me hope and courage to face the growing day!

Walking down the lane, with thoughts of problems and pain swirling my brain; How could a warm sun without shame shine so bright?

The birds chirping and flying with all their might; Ignoring the torture inside of me, with no one to share my agony.

Truly, problems, misery, and woes, are man’s savage foes; Giving us sleepless nights, nightmares, and throes; And ought not to be erased by doing things that would make us cool; What then my friend, should I do to keep the pain away, hold them at bay?

At night before I lay down to sleep, looking out the window, thoughts so deep; Watching the stars twinkling bright while the moon creeps through the night; Looking down and say, my dear, so sad and pitiful,

However, life does not have to be perfect to be wonderful; just enjoy it while you’re still able!

LIGHT INTERVENTION Stellar

PAGHILERA

Sol

Panatag ang karagatan ngayon, Mahinahon ang paghampas ng alon, At bahagyang ipinapaalala ng araw Na malapit na ang dapit-hapon.

Kaya nanatiling nagpatuloy sa paghilera, Habang kinaka-usap kita sa paraang hindi direkta

Isang metapora ang eksena Ipinipinta niya ang buhay na ikaw ang kasama.

Tahimik ang mundo, Payapa at kalmado. Ang naririnig ko lang ay ang kanta ng karagatan

At tibok ng iyong puso.

Sa aking paghilera, sana kasama kita, Nawaý ating madama, Na ang paglalakbay ay pagpapahinga

LAAG SA BUKID

Sol

Magpauban ko, magpabukid ta. Kay dili makaya ang panganod kung ako ra isa, Busa magpauban ko, magpabukid ta. Kailangan natong mubisita aron magpakalma, Sa lugar kung asa kita makaginhawa Kanang dili ta makaila ug problema. Didto ta muplastar sa lugar na duol ang langit

Samtang nagtan aw sa adlaw nga hapit nang mawala, Mao ni ang akong gipangita. Sabayan ug kape unya mag-estorya, Tubagon natong tanan nga pangutana. Ang katugnaw sa bukid mao ang iyang gakos, Unya ang imong presensya ang akong hamugaway. Dugay nako nga nangita sa in-aning pagpahuway. Ikaw ang akong karamay sa ing-aning kalipay.

DASIG Mariopok

Sa panahon karon Makaginhawa lang ta, payts na Kay sa ka lisod mabuhi ‘ron, Dapat mapasalamaton ta kay nakalahutay ta.

Adlaw-adlaw ga baton kita’g problema Usahay makaingon na lang ta’g “kapoy na,” Pero maski’g unsa pa man ang agian Ato na lang ihung-hong sa kanunay nga “dasig lang”.

Kung aduna man gani ‘tay kaguol nga dili mawala Maayo unta kini ipaagi nalang sa katawa Ug sa malaomon nga pagkanta.

Iampo nato nga dili magpaibabaw ang kakapoy, Nga makab-ot nato ang kalamposan nga dugay na natong pangandoy Ginhawa lang gamay ug ubanan nato sa pagtaghoy.

PAHINGA

eipons

Hali na’t mawala, sa liwanag ng dilim, sa ilalim ng mga tala.

Hali ka’t mahimbing, sa himig ng malamig na hangin, sa payapa nitong lambing.

Mga mata’y ipikit, tumahan na muna’t magpahinga saglit.

Hali ka at aking pupunasan, ang ulan na likha ng mga matang walang masilungan.

Managinip ka muna’t mag tungo, sa ulap na walang ambon, at doon ibuhos ang mga luhang ‘yong inipon, sa loob ng maraming taon.

MY POLLYANNA smqt

My comfort amidst chaos, My rest in a long hectic day. My long deep breath after Finishing a heavy downtime task.

Fingers intertwined as we both Dive into the abyss of Nurturing love.

Through exotic colloquy and Luscious imaginations, Let us have the kind of love Even Shakespeare would envy.

GLEAMING NIGHT

Jinky T. Gonzales

SUBMERGENCE

Nicole Gallardo

SPECTRUM OF DREAMS

Serenecarnation

And if what I'd dreamt weren't meant to be mine, it'll be always a full spectrum of emotion to turn back pages of time. I know this day had passed— where I'm almost certain to little clues I defined. Once a little wanderer of life, where he tends to dream of silhouettes of future desires, for he is blinded by the lights that bedim his dream darker— like shadows as if the night.

What kindles a dream are flint, air, and fuel of desires. Though it may take time to near the torch, it'll always be alright to see the progress and the other side.

ALL WE NEED IS A BREAK

aelizeir

I’ve always reminded myself to be as pliant as a bamboo; to sway along with the wind and bow when I have to.

To pick my battles, to raise my sword if I have to; to decide when to shut my mouth and discontinue.

When life gets overwhelming and I find myself too weary to continue, I’d take a pause for a while and try to see what I’ve been through.

Being strong all the time makes life pretentious and blue, sometimes we need to pause for a while to look and appreciate the view.

PAHIMAKAS

Blossom

Pagod na utak

Pusong parang mabibiyak Damdaming makirot Isang kantang malungkot.

Takot at pangamba Pagkamuhi at pangungulila Para sa pamilyang nag-abanduna Sa tulad niyang isang bunga ng pagkakasala.

Pilit niya mang kalimutan Gabi-gabi’y dinadalaw ng kalungkutan Kalungkutang sana’y maibsan man lang Sa awit ng isang ulilang sampung taong gulang.

es·say

IT'S JUST LIFE

aelizeir

It will hurt. It will hurt a lot. Pain will eat your insides, and you'll feel the worms swarm your gut, and you'll cry every night. Grief will visit you time after time, like an unwanted guest on a bad day. The world will feel heavy on your shoulders, and sometimes, it will be too much to bear. The process will be excruciating. It'll scar you for a lifetime. But just when it gets worse, the good days will arrive.

You'll wake up one day and appreciate life all over again. The air gets fresher to breathe. The sun feels warm on the skin. The blue sky will make you sigh with awe. The stars will shine bright in your eyes, and it feels good to be alive. It feels great to witness the sky turn pink, orange, and red at twilight. Hope flutters like a feather inside your chest and the days get better and better, until... they don’t. Back to square one, again.

Of course, it repeats. It's a cycle of life. Good days or bad days, we never get to pick. It doesn't even matter, because as long as our hearts beat the rhythm of existence, we'll always be in this repetitive process. Up, down, like waves. But it's alright, you’ll be fine.

It doesn't matter how low your rock bottom is or how persistent you chase for the highs; nothing is consistent in life except change. Indeed, it all comes and goes. The only thing you can do is to feel it when it comes, and let go when it goes. Then breathe.

Inhale. 1... 2... 3...

Exhale. 1... 2... 3... Repeat.

It’s okay, love. It's just life.

IT'S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY

Cathyna

Back then, I was thinking. Contemplating about life and how it should be. One day, it left me hanging. Realizing that I should have not stressed myself over the things I randomly see and feel. Well, it's okay that I haven’t been as productive as I would’ve liked myself to be. It’s okay that I haven't ironed out every last detail yet. It's okay that I have been feeling a little lost lately. It’s okay that I haven’t been able to keep in touch with my friends. It’s okay that I haven’t been able to follow a routine and it’s okay that I haven’t gained enough confidence for myself today.

Maybe I just need to draw a breath or two. I just need to take a pause while everyone is playing. I just need to be alone while everyone is partying. I just need to take a U-turn while everyone is over-speeding, crossing the road. I just need to be simple while everyone is extravagant. I just need to go backward while everyone else is moving forward. Maybe I just need to set some time for myself.

Maybe I don’t need to rush things right now, maybe everything I need now, is right here- enjoying myself alone, playing ukulele and feeling the song’s melody. Allowing myself to dance by enjoying every beat and executing my moves with ease. Exploring the places that make me feel at peace. Allowing myself to get bored and do nothing. Erasing all the worries gone. This time, I'll just close my eyes and savor the serenity I've found within myself. I realized, there's no point in berating myself for attempting to survive, often by relying on the only methods I know- working, studying hard, and hesitating to say no to other’s favor. Instead, I realized all I need is to just take one step at a time, take a deep breath, and pause for a while.

Living in these difficult times is certainly one of the most life changing ones. But it’s okay because we’re all still new at this and are trying our best to navigate through things as they are at the moment. I may feel terrified, threatened, or not confident in myself at times, but it’s okay. What matters is that I never stop. I’m using commas, but never a period at the end of my story. Now, whatever happens in life, there are situations that I don’t need to force myself to be okay. Sometimes, we need not to be okay for us to breathe and take a pause from our busy life. From that, I learn to realize things and value myself from anybody else. Sometimes, this is all we need to survive in these trying times.

SINCERITY IS SCARY

Brian Jay B. Vallejo

Underneath the supposedly solid reality lurks an unwelcome truth, ready to consume our feeling of hope, faith, and trust. Undeniably, we have a bad habit of taking the weight and allowing all the unburied emotion to suck as straight in as we walk along the hazy path filled with crushing uncertainty. As we chose to cross the road less traveled by many, we felt compelled to condemn any indicators of dread as true, and the prospect of returning to a time when we perceived safety as something acceptable in society shackled us in so many ways. Would you consider taking the risk of being yourself? Or be someone who is formed by society's approval.

Perfection has wrapped and molded us to be its replica, and with society's constant affirmation, it prevents us from moving further. Contrary to popular belief, we have entered a new era, yet our thinking appears to be stuck in the past. When we erase the last vestiges of our identity, we lose sight of our purpose. Needless to say, we keep making the same mistakes and getting stuck trying to repair them. Poorly, we are gradually losing ourselves as we open up to limited possibilities. What prevents us from being sincere? Hopelessly, in times of difficulty, we often considered fighting back, regardless of the consequences. As a result, despite knowing the uncertain outcome, we dared to take the risk and sail the unplanned course. Being true to what you feel is priceless; however, unprecedented detours prevented us from progressing. It is said that taking risks is better than worrying about what ifs. Being true to yourself and proudly displaying your color to the world is something to be proud of, regardless of the outcome.

Isn't defying society a courageous act? To go against their expectations? But you know what makes it terrifying? It's when you try to be sincere but are met with hateful stares.

When we were little, we used to be authentic and those genuine memories became part of our past self. No worries, and free from the filth of life. We are rapidly aging and losing our identity as a result. It's been a wild ride, and our lives have changed dramatically. We are becoming increasingly senseless as we focus more on conforming to someone else's standard. We have lost sight of the beauty of life—even if only for a short time—and enjoying the smallest details that comes after realization and understanding. Can't we just be kids for a while? Where standards do not matter, where we can show our true selves, where we can express our genuine happiness, free of hypocrisy and criticism. The person we have become is not what we expected when we were little. We were once a dreamer, and look where we are now—a sad, empty human being who has been manipulated by society's standards.

Indeed, it is scary to be sincere. Their eyes scrutinize us, their lips deceive us, and their hands control us. We can only hope for the best in view of the fact that the taste of freedom is still a long way off. Our physical appearance, fashion, body type, and achievements all signal approval. We are all victims of these calamitous circumstances. We assumed that life had it in for us because nothing ever went the way we wanted it to. We are meant to go through difficult times in our lives for a variety of reasons. When we harbor resentment, it confines us while drowning us in pity and regret. We all want to break free from the destructive patterns that have enslaved us. For the last time, it is scary to be sincere; however, isn't it even more frightening to be stagnant? To allow others' approval to control you? To be enslaved by the opinions of others? Frankly speaking, none of them matter as long as you value yourself and live your life to the fullest.

INHALE, EXHALE, REPEAT iskrupulus

Recline and loosen up! Yes, get off of your dreary perimeter and brace yourself for a striking impact into the realm of serenity, holding another exhale and inhale necessary for living. Breathe, yes you!

We voyage alone in our axis, we delve into the duller resemblance, as this sounds more comfortable. We hear different sides of stories, some tragic and funny. We prefer to be apolitical because we don’t want to get involved in the disputations of oligarchs and cancel culture. We often ask who are parallel to the status we have. Entertaining ourselves who submits to the symbolic belief that sounds final and compelling to us. Discovering new things every day and failing to value the essence of the natural ability that is embodied and engraved in our core. Getting heavyhearted day by day, realizing how little we are in our community.

The problem arises because we combat hatred with hatred, darkness with darkness.

Instead, get out of your comfort zones. We’ll skip to the finest point. Are you ready to leave?

If so, come to me. I am your nose that duets with you when you're aching. I am the lungs that comes heavily whenever you are scorching with your obligations in life. Don’t feel sad because you deserve pleasurable merits. Feel relaxed as your diaphragm does it for you. Inhale the compassion and hope, exhale the bitterness and hate. Don’t deny your feelings; you need a warm hug despite the extrapolating adversities throughout the previous years and present.

On top of these matters, we chose to be as steadfast as we could be. We surmount mountains of challenges. We find life easy once we learn to acknowledge a strategy of mastering a pursuit.

Commemorate happiness.

Commemorate the battles you won over.

Commemorate the decisions mostly for goodness’ sake.

Commemorate the life you have.

Even if the entire world forgets, never forget to breathe!

FIVE MANTRAS IN NINE SENTENCES

Blossom

After more than two decades here on Earth, I still frequently ask myself if I’m living the best of my life. The hard truth is, not every day and not every time. Each day I face in a mirror trying to figure out the things that I want to do and the things that I don’t. From that scenario, here I am, standing again in front of a mirror, not figuring out those things but chanting the words I deeply learned from nothing to something.

Be curious, not judgmental. No one is perfect but if you find yourself judging someone from a blur perspective, remind yourself that being curious is trying to understand things from a deeper root.

I am enough. When you look for validation from others, you are betraying yourself. Don’t give them the power to run your life. Your life, your rules!

Rest but don’t quit. Life can be as tiring as running all day long but the important part is when you’re tired just take a rest and then keep going.

Good things come to those who wait. In life, there is always a right time for everything. You cannot just force things and regret after it hits you differently.

It’s just a bad day, not a bad life. Oftentimes we misunderstand life by judging a day that does not conform with our plans and moods. We tend to forget that it’s just a piece bitten from a whole.

Life must be tiring, that’s the least I know. But all throughout this season of happiness and chaos, I must conclude that the choices we make reflect the path we walk. I must say, facing this mirror, I finally crossed the borderline of calmness and chaos.

BREATHE: A SPELL TO GET INTO WONDERLAND

piyaya

Iam neither in a confessional room nor being questioned at a detention center but, let me tell you a secret.

When the clock hit midnight, it was ecstatic, the joy and the waves of laughter I had while jumping through the next paper of the year. But as I recall, it was only a fleeting moment; a feather that is too soft for you to keep and too fragile for you to grasp tightly.

I have been lured to a dream that the world will be damp by the sun's beam once again, and there I was, a girl who snored and slept tightly almost forgetting the art of waking up. It felt like magic and I almost decided to just dream, however, reality splashed on my face like water with ice. Too cold and brutal. Ruthless and a freak.

The climax of this small little secret is that time has always been a snatcher, the kind that you'll never get hold of again. A day finally came and the voice that has been quiet for too long crawled its way to my thirsty throat and settled as a four-word: I should've done better.

To make my life more fun, I cannot run and get back what time has already stolen. That's when people settle for the songs and their tunes that make us more alive, read books to flee with your wounded inner child and scribble in a little diary the words that we were afraid to hear.

And the most tragic pang I have felt was when I came to sit with silence and realized that the comfort I am feeling came with an expiration date. I have been stirred up from being asleep; the least I can do is to let others know how I gambled everything to know when to be awake while hearing a lullaby that draws me to doze off.

Life is a Ferris Wheel that we were forced to sit on and ride the whole time, and before our death will come knocking at our doors, we won't be able to get off. Yet, if the time once drained you from having everything, then drain it as well. Make the most of it, and while you're at it, open the window from the side of your carriage and breathe.

THE AIR TO MY METAMORPHIC LUNGS

Ilike this feeling. I like writing, and this is not just about writing – my head is poisoned and I vomit the words. My mind is wounded and I bleed out the letters and they clot to form these words. Beyond the breathe outs and breathe ins of my literal lungs.

In writing, I bleed out on some random pages and I have never known how much I miss writing until this very moment. I hope to keep this feeling – the feeling of thoughts flowing like air rushing in and heading out.

In writing, I find that voice heals the self-inflicted bruises scattered all over my brain.

In writing, I found the presence that resuscitates me from the puddles of doubts.

With writing, my head races until its imaginary legs tire out. When it calms down, I am down to shallow inhales and deep exhales. I used to live for those moments, I somehow lost it, life brought me back.

With writing, I feel powerful even with just a pen in hand. With writing, I feel as frail as these ink-stained pages.

My writing is my burden and my light. My writing is uncertain yet defined.

I have hopefully shed out this self-made fragility. I do not have to run whenever I feel powerless because of my emotions. I do not have to hide whenever I feel exposed because of my impulses I do not have to hurt whenever I feel volatile because of my pain.

All I have to do is write. For then, I am invincible. May you find the air to your metamorphic lungs.

Bimbay

short sto·ries

HIRAYA

Blossom

Sa bawat paggalaw ng kamay ng orasan, ay siyang hudyat ng isang panibagong pagsubok sa araw ng isang mag-aaral. Pagsubok na pwedeng magpatatag, pagsubok na pwedeng magpabagsak. Bilang isang mag-aaral na ang pangarap ay makapagtapos, lahat ng problema ay dapat suongin at lampasan, nang sa gayun ay mahawakan ang diplomang may tatak ng pangalan, masuot ang itim na toga, at sumalim sa ritmo ng awiting hudyat ng pagtatapos. Ngunit, bigla, tila ito’y naging isang malaking hagdan na kahit anong hakbang ay unti-unting lumuluwang ang mga puwang. Handa ka pa rin bang humakbang at makipagsapalaran? O mas nanaisin mo nalang na kalimutan ang iyong pangarap at piliin ang ibang daan?

Drake: (Nakatunghay sa kanyang lamesa habang may hawak na papel at bolpen) Hayst maraming taon na ang nakalipas, maraming mag-aaral na rin ang nagsipagtapos ng kani-kanilang mga gustong kurso. Marami na rin ang umiyak, tumawa, nasaktan, naging matapang, at higit sa lahat nagwagi sa hamon ng tadhana.

Ina: At isa ka na roon.

Drake: At ikaw naman ang susunod (sabay ngiti).

Ina: Sana nga palarin kase nakakapagod na talaga. Alam mo yung bawat araw ipapamukha sa’yo na parang wala kang ambag sa mundo? Yung kakagising mo pa lang pero parang gusto mo ng matulog ulit kase naghalo na yung sakit, lungkot, at pagod.

Drake: Alam mo Ina ganyan din ako noon. Tuwing papasok kailangan nakangiti palagi kahit wasak na sa loob. Pero yun ang buhay eh, minsan masaya, kadalasan malungkot.

Ina: Alam mo Drake, tama ka. Minsan kahit nakakapagod na kailangan pa rin nating magpatuloy para sa pangarap na gusto nating maabot.

Drake: Huwag kang mag-alala, makakamit mo rin yan at mararating mo rin ang dulo. Kung pagod kana magpahinga ka lang pero huwag kang titigil (sabay tapik sa balikat) Kring! Kring! Kring!

Drake: Okay class, please submit your papers now!

Sa mapanghamong paligid, iba’t-ibang uri ng pangyayari at pagbabago ang naging sanhi upang mas kumapit ang bawat mag-aaral. Pagkapit na kahit sa dulo pa lang ng diploma ay maihahalintulad sa isang kanta na kahit saang parte ka man, simula, gitna, o kahit nasa dulo kana ang importante ay matapos mo ang kanta. Marami man ang nagsasabi na walang magandang naidulot ang sakit at lungkot, ang mga nangyari sa mga mag-aaral ay isang patunay na hindi lahat ng pahina ng aklat ay kasing sama ng nauna, maaring ito’y isa lamang sa dapat basahin ng mambabasa upang sa kalaunan ay maging sulit ang dulo ng kwento. Ikaw ba saang pahina ka na?

HAVE I NOT BREATHED FOR A MOMENT

precious_hope

Activities and quizzes accumulate in my virtual classroom, but I'm no longer afraid. Rather, I took small shivering steps upwards to the rooftop, just so I could gaze at the pacific and sparkling waves of the lake waters in the darkness. Even from afar, I saw little scraps of glimmering green phosphorescence, thrown up like little diamonds in the pale ghostly lace of the lake spray, then disappearing, dissolving in the night. I gazed at it in awe, lost in that momentary scenery, then resurfaced to my consciousness. I then hurried back downstairs to continue my academic misery. But at the back of my mind, I thought, "I couldn't have witnessed that awe-inspiring scenery, have I been afraid to breathe for a moment."

The next morning, virtual class links and almost due tasks greeted me. I got up to prepare for another day, and what a sight! That very morning, I saw dawn for a very long time. Very gradually, beacons of color began to pierce the sky. It was as if the sun was burning off the cold of the night. The sunlight sloped in shafts across the golden landscapes, casting long shadows from the spiky trees onto the dewdrops-filled grass and muddy paths. I basked in the sun as it radiated all its glory on earth. The lake perked up a little from the reflection of these colored slivers in the sky. Bright high lights shone on the tips of the small waves, and beneath its gray surface I could see lurking a deep midnight green.

The corn fields and rice paddies on the lake banks shed its deadness and became a spectral gray-white, then whiter than gray, and finally it came back to its glorious colors, as lush as the garden of Eden. Birds started singing, and little invisible insects made crackling noises. I then saw some drunk men in the sheds, they made me think of Lazarus, brought back to life by the touch of God. This morning was one in a million of others, but I know this one's going to be lovely. As soon as I resurfaced from my moment of revering the sun, I then hurried to continue my morning routine so that I could proceed to my daily grind. But at the back of my mind, I thought, "I couldn't have witnessed that glorious phenomenon, had I not paused and breathed for a moment."

Later on, the day seemed just as a blink of God's eyes. The morning ended and the afternoon is at its inevitable end, I'm still working on my tasks. I've always thought to myself that this daily predicament is tantamount to eternal damnation in the underworld. Every day, I am falling into this bottomless abyss of things to do and family/peer pressure. But lo and behold, it's not, it's life itself! An unfathomable trench of anguish! If I was only given a choice to live or to drift in the heavens, I would have chosen the latter. Unfortunately, we do not hold our lives. Our purpose in this world is predetermined according to God's divine plan. Thus, we have no choice but to exist as it is His will.

As I thought these to myself, my desk seemingly morphed into a sea of kaleidoscopes of things I had on it. Mathematical equations came flying onto my face like some visual effects portrayed in that particular meme I usually share on social media. I felt dizzy, so I decided to retire to my bed to catch my breath. Breath, such a ubiquitous activity. Ever-present but often neglected, like God for an egotistical man. At the back of my mind, I thought, "this paroxysm of fatigue never could have ended, had I not retired on my bed, to breathe for a moment."

I grabbed my earphones and played something on shuffle. The song that came up is Israel Kamakawiwo'ole's version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." I first thought to myself, "this song is not for my mood right now." And just after that thought, a trigger sets off in my mind, the song

somehow travels up through my body in a process of emotional osmosis and, out of nowhere, my face is covered in tears. A river of tears as the song turns into the gentlest lullaby.

...someday I'll wish upon a star, wake up where the clouds are far behind me... ...where troubles melt like lemon-drops, high above the chimney top, that's where you'll find me...

And then I found myself in the middle of a personal revelation, a moment of surrender to all of the things I squelch down during the day. All of the things I cover with paper works and to-do lists and post-its. I wanted to cover my face, or disappear, but the only thing I can do is keep singing and letting the sounds reach down under all my defenses and fly my soul up through the branches and beyond the trees, all the way past the constellations, not even looking back at the moon. But at the back of my mind, I thought, "I couldn't have tasted this bitter-sweet flavor of fatigue tears, had I not cried to my heart's content, to breathe for a moment."

And speaking of the moon, there she is, outside my window, hoist ed high on the skies, hiding in a canopy of clouds. Tonight, it is an impossibly large globe of yelloworange rose quickly, as if thrown up by a giant, invisible hand. I watched in quiet disbelief while it climbed higher on the sky, changing to a golden orb, erasing the stars that had been so bright before it appeared. My music slowed, actually everything seemed to slow down, while watching the gold fade to yellow then to white while the full moon climbed. It seemed to smooth the lake waters from afar. The waves broke in low, lazy, dark rushes, with only a thin, lacy edge of pale foam. Across the quiet meadows, a wide silver path stretched from the glimmering grasses to the horizon. But at the back of my mind, I thought, "I couldn't have witnessed that breathtaking scenery, had I not taken a break to breathe for a moment."

Oh, these omnipresent wonders that keep passing me. For a moment, they cheered my fragile and lonely heart. This romantic warmth-wanting heart that always seeks for others' love and validation. Like the warmth the sun gave to the moon. But wait, why am I so amused at other Godly creations, when I myself am a wonder? How can I not see it? I’ve been blinded by earthly sufferings! From now on, I decided that I am entitled to be proud of much that I have accomplished. How little they may be. I am not a failure. But it is wrong to be proud of my weaknesses, and hiding from the world is a weakness, a fault of fear. I should be more open to life, not run away from it. And romance? The world was full of people who never knew it, and the world kept on spinning, with moonrises and flowers and sunlight dancing on the water and ten thousand other things to gladden the soul. That was more than enough for happiness.

Finally, I realized, in spite of everything, I had welcomed each new day as though it were a new life, where all past failures and problems were erased, and all future possibilities and joys open and available, to be achieved probably before night fell again. I should free myself from the chains of life or from what others call life. We should be free from emotion, from one's strengths, one's own weaknesses. Stretch one moment out into a thousand, because why not? I may be a tiny momentary speck within an indifferent universe but, I am also a miracle in this vast cosmos. Even just for a moment, be but one momentary breath, one-millionth of a billion nebulas.

Breathe!

SACRED NEW BEGINNING

ejpons

SOMETIMES WE NEED TIME TO BREATHE

Jayckhor

THE UNLIKELY PLOT TWIST

Sam

On the left corner of the gloomy room, here I am with wings numbing that even the mightiest pinch of a giant cannot impact. It felt like my dusty story of life is about to bid goodbye. As I tried to lay my eyes from West to East, a vivid spec of light struck onto my brown-colored iris. A warm breeze of wind whispered in my ear in such a way that I could hear the words, “How is your sanity?”

The warmth felt like an embrace I longed to fuel my heart. The numbness vanished together with the morning dews at noon. My foot set on the glittering floor, step by step, I went to you. I’m quite perplexed by how imperfectly perfect you are. Behind your cliché aura, in one of the films I’ve watched, sets a wondrous, sharp, and benevolent vibe.

Owing to my immense bliss which reached my cheeks, I glimpsed at your forward-facing eyes and conspicuous tan feathers. And oh! These feathers, these feathers smelled like freshly brewed coffee in my morning delight. I have not got the faintest idea, I ran my claws on you. Surprisingly, you fondle yours to mine. From what I knew, my novel is not as gray as it seemed. You painted it with hue, the unlikely plot twist illustrated by you.

APAT NA TAYO

Pamilyar kay Luciana ang lahat — ang antigong mga muwebles, ang lumang mga libro, ang maalikabok na silid at maging ang amoy nito. Lahat ay pamilyar sa kanya pero 'di niya maipalawanag kung bakit kasi ngayon pa lang naman siya nakaapak sa lugar na ito.

Nahihiwagaan man sa paligid niya ay tahimik na lang na hinintay ni Luciana ang mga bisitang inaasahan niyang dumating. Hindi nagtagal ay nabasag ang katahimikan nang magsidatingan din sa wakas ang mga taong matagal niya nang hinihintay.

Tipid na ngiti ang naging bungad ni Luciana sa tatlo niyang kaibigan. Nginitian din naman siya ng mga ito pabalik saka sila umupo sa harap niya. Ilang taon na niyang 'di nakikita ang mga ito kaya gano'n na lang ang tuwa niya nang magkita ulit sila. Magkahalo ang pananabik at pangungulila ni Luciana sa mga kaibigan niya habang nakatingin siya sa kanila.

'Di nagtagal ay tiningnan ni Luciana ang sampung taong gulang pa lamang na si Ayana. Malapad ang ngiti nito sa kanya na para bang manghang-mangha siya sa hitsura ni Luciana. Nakatingin siya kay Luciana na para bang siya ang pinakamagandang babaeng nakita niya sa buong buhay niya.

"Ang ganda mo," sabi ni Ayana. "Mukha ka ring masaya. Masaya ba diyan?"

Tumango si Luciana. "Masaya. Ikaw ba, hindi ka ba masaya?"

Umiling ang bata. "Hindi ako masaya kasi ang tagal pa bago ako lumaki. Gusto kong maging kagaya mo. Gusto ko ng tumanda. Ayaw ko ng maging bata."

"Hindi madali ang buhay, Ayana," sabat ng isa pang kaibigan ni Luciana na si Lucy. "Kapag nasa ganitong edad ka na, sigurado akong gugustuhin mong maging bata ulit."

Sumimangot ang bata. "Kahit pa hindi madali ang buhay, gusto ko pa ring lumaki na ako kaagad. Gusto ko ng matulungan si nanay. Pagod na siya sa pagiging labandera. Gusto ko siyang bigyan ng magandang buhay."

Nagpalitan ng makabuluhang tingin sina Luciana, Lucy, at ang isa pa nilang kaibigan na si Ana. Nagtataka namang nakatingin lang sa kanila si Ayana na tila ba pilit niyang iniintindi ang pagtitinginan ng tatlo niyang kaibigan.

Angelika Cual

Lumingon si Luciana kay Ayana. "Sulitin mo na lang ang kabataan mo, Ayana. Darating din naman ang panahon na tatanda ka, ‘wag kang magmadali."

Tumango lang ang bata. Dumapo ang tingin ni Luciana sa kaibigan niyang si Ana. Kanina pa nakayuko si Ana at mukhang may problemang pinagdaraanan. Halata ring wala siyang gana. Alam na kaagad ni Luciana ang problema ng kaibigan niya kaya bumuntong-hininga siya.

"May problema ka," sabi ni Luciana kay Ana. "Ilang beses na kitang pinagsabihan Ana. Sinabi ko ng walang magandang dulot sa’yo si Tristan pero 'di ka nakinig. Hanggang kailan mo ba uubusin ang sarili mo para sa kanya?"

"Wala nang mauubos pa kasi ubos na siya Luciana, matagal na," biglang sabi ni Lucy.

Inosenteng nakatingin ang batang si Ayana kay Ana na pinapahiran na ang luha ngayon. Hindi niya alam kung bakit umiiyak si Ana. Gusto niya mang patahanin si Ana, hindi niya alam kung paano kaya tahimik na lamang siyang nakinig sa usapan ng mga kaibigan niya.

Nagpapahid lang ng luha si Ana habang nakatitig sa kanya si Luciana. Naiintindihan naman ni Luciana kung bakit lubusan ang pagmamahal ni Ana kay Tristan kasi maging siya ay napagdaanan na rin naman ang pinagdadaanan ni Ana. Alam na alam niya ang pakiramdam. Nasasaktan lang siya kasi naaawa siya kay Ana. Naalala niya kasi ang dati.

At ayaw niya nang balikan ang dati. Hangga’t maaari ay gusto niya ng ibaon ‘yon sa limot.

‘Di nagtagal ay tumahan din si Ana pero nanatili pa rin itong tahimik na nakayuko lang. Ayaw niyang nakikita ang kaibigan niyang sugatan ang puso dahil sa isang lalaki pero wala naman siyang magagawa. Batid niya naman kasi na kahit anong payo ang ibigay niya kay Ana, hindi ito makikinig sa kanya. Sarili pa rin nito ang pakikinggan niya.

Sa bagay, dieci siete anyos pa lang naman si Ana. Batang-bata pa siya kaya naiintindihan ni Luciana. Sigurado naman si Luciana na balang araw ay tatanda rin si Ana at maiintindihan niya rin ang mga payo niya.

Itinuon na lang ni Luciana ang pansin niya sa kaibigang si Lucy. Alam niyang problemado si Lucy sa trabaho nito. Bente singko anyos na si Lucy at kahit na ilang taon na mula noong magtapos siya sa kolehiyo, hindi pa rin siya makahanap ng maayos na trabaho. Hindi pa rin alam ni Lucy kung ano ang gagawin niya sa buhay niya.

Marami siyang gustong simulan pero hindi niya masimulan kasi masyadong magulo ang utak niya. Marami siyang gustong gawin na hindi niya magawa kasi marami sagabal.

“Bakit ka huminto sa pagsusulat?” tanong ni Luciana kay Lucy. Matagal na silang magkakilala kaya alam ni Luciana kung gaano kamahal ni Lucy ang pagsusulat. “Hindi ba iyon ang nagpapasaya sa‘yo?”

“Hindi ko na makita ang saysay ng mga salita ko,” sagot nito. “Wala nang nakakaintindi ng mga isinusulat ko.”

“Hindi mo naman kailangang ipaintindi sa kanila ang mga salita mo,” sabi ni Luciana. “Basta ba naiintindihan mo ang sarili mo at ang gusto mong isulat, hindi mo kailangang alalahanin ang iisipin ng ibang tao. Magsulat ka para sa sarili mo, Lucy.”

Habang nag-uusap sina Luciana at Lucy ay nakatitig naman sa kanila ang inosenteng si Ayana. Wala siyang maintindihan sa sinasabi ng mga nakatatanda niyang kaibigan kasi masyado na itong malalalim. Hindi niya na kayang intindihin.

Binalot sila ng katahimikan. Napaisip kasi sina Lucy at Ana sa sinabi ni Luciana kasi batid nila na tama siya. Tama siya hindi lang dahil mas nakatatanda siya, kung ‘di dahil mas may alam siya kung ikukumpara sa kanila. Siya ang pinakamalalim mag-isip sa kanilang apat. Siya ang mas maraming naranasan at siya ang mas nakakaintindi.

Ang bata namang si Ayana ay ibinalik ang atensyon kay Luciana. Kanina pa siya manghangmangha kay Luciana at tila ba gustong-gusto niyang maging siya. “Luciana, ano bang trabaho mo?” tanong ni Ayana. “Guro ka ba?”

Umiling si Luciana. “Mamamahayag ako.”

“Ibig sabihin nasa telebisyon ka?” gulat na tanong ni Ayana. Tumango si Luciana kaya mas lalong namangha si Ayana sa kanya. “Gusto ko sanang maging guro pero ngayong alam kong mamamayahag ka, gusto ko na ring maging kagaya mo. Hindi na ako makapaghintay na makita ka Luciana. Magkikita pa naman siguro tayo balang araw ‘di ba?”

Agad na dumapo ang tingin ni Luciana at Lucy kay Ana nang marinig nila ang tanong ni Ayana. May namuong luha sa mga mata nina Luciana at Lucy habang nakatitig sila kay Ana. Puno sila ng poot at panghihinayang kay Ana.

Umiling si Luciana bilang sagot sa tanong ni Ayana. “Hindi na tayo magkikita, Ayana. Hindi mo na kami makikitang dalawa ni Lucy kasi pinatay tayo ni Ana.”

Labis na naguluhan si Ayana at hindi niya maintindihan kung ano ang nangyayari. Hindi siya sigurado kung talaga bang hindi niya naiintindihan o ayaw niya lang intindihin. Hindi niya gusto ang naririnig at nahihinuha niya. Ayaw niyang tanggapin kasi marami pa siyang gustong gawin sa buhay. Marami siyang pangarap.

“Ana, totoo ba ang sinasabi ni Luciana?” tanong ni Ayana.

“Makasarili ka, Ana…” sabi naman ni Lucy. “Pinatay mo kaming lahat. Pinatay mo lahat ng pangarap namin dahil inuna mo ang sarili mo. Hindi ka lumaban.”

“Lucy, lumaban ako. Sinubukan ko pero ‘di ko kinaya…” umiiyak na sabi ni Ana. “Sinubukan ko namang lumaban pero ‘di ko talaga nakayanan. Pasensya na kayo kung ‘di ko kinaya…”

Binubulag na si Luciana ng mga luha niya pero nakatitig pa rin siya kay Ana. Gusto niyang maawa kay Ana pero mas nangibabaw sa kanya ang galit. Gusto niyang maintindihan ang mga rason ni Ana pero kahit ano ang gawin niya ay ‘di niya maintindihan.

“Hindi ko sinasadya…” humihikbing sabi ni Ana.

“Sinadya mo Ana,” sabi ni Luciana. “Ilang beses kitang pinayuhan at sinubukang tulungan pero ayaw mong tanggapin ang tulong ko. Sinubukan kitang iligtas pero ikaw mismo ay ayaw mong iligtas ang sarili mo. Sinubukan kong tulungan ka pero pinili mo pa ring patayin ang sarili mo… pinili mo pa ring patayin kami. Sinadya mo ang lahat, Ana.”

Puno ng panghihinayang si Ana habang nakatingin siya kay Luciana. Hindi alam ni Ana kung paano siya hihingi ng tawad sa sarili niya kasi batid niyang walang kapatawaran ang ginawa niya. Batid niya na kahit ilang beses pa siyang humingi ng tawad, hindi siya mapapatawad at wala nang magbabago.

Patay na siya.

Patay na silang lahat.”

“Ano sa tingin mo Chelsea? Maganda ba?” tanong ni Ana sa kaibigan niya nang matapos itong basahin ang isinulat niya.

Ngumiti si Chelsea at tumango. “Ang ganda, Ana. Hindi ko inaasahan na may talento ka pala sa pagsusulat. Ang galing mo.”

Ngumiti si Ana. “Salamat.”

Nagtagal ang titig ni Chelsea kay Ana. “Alam mo, Ana, masaya ako sa naging desisyon mo. Masaya ako na masaya ka na ngayon. Masaya ako na sa wakas ay nakalaya ka na rin sa pang-aabuso ni Tristan.”

Ngumiti ulit si Ana. “Napagtanto ko kasi na kailangan kong iligtas at tulungan ang sarili ko. May mga naghihintay pa sa akin sa unahan at ayoko silang biguin. Magpapahinga lang ako pero hindi ako susuko, ‘wag tayong sumuko, Chelsea.”

THE PASSING OF TIME IS WITHIN OUR REACH

Brian Vallejo

Rachel Ligsanan

IF I COULD TAKE CARE OF YOU Stellar

Annie’s palms were sweating cold in the middle of a hot summer night. Maybe it was from the dreadful feeling of uncertainty. Maybe it was from fear of getting caught.

“Getting caught for what?” She thought to herself.

“Getting caught for trying to run away from my responsibilities? For trying to break free from my toxic and abusive—“ she stopped herself short and bit her lip to hold the tears. She looked up at the huge clock on the train station’s depressingly plain wall and weighed her choices. Her parents were still asleep for it was literally the dead of the night. She has enough money to sustain her travel and stay for at least a month. Maybe she can find a job once she arrives and settles into a temporary place, that shouldn’t be so hard. If she really wanted to run away, now would be the perfect time.

She looks around and sees different people busy going about their businesses. She wonders what they are thinking and how they are feeling. They seemed so engrossed in their lives, which made Annie feel jealous and all the more lost.

“Why are you running away?”

A voice whispers in her mind.

"You ungrateful and ambitious bastard! Why would you leave everyone in your life and run away?" The voice sounds urgent and demanding now. She takes huge gulps of her coffee in an attempt to drown out the voice. It only made her more nervous and miserable. Her hand was shaking as she fished out the phone from her bag’s pocket. It was already 11:17 p.m. and there were no missed calls. She took a deep breath and started towards the line of people who were about to board the train leaving the place and going to Amsterdam. All her life, Annie never felt comfort and gentleness in their home. She never hugged, or kissed, or held hands with any of her parents. She feels shy even just saying sorry, thank you, I miss you, or I love you. She never uttered these words to them, couldn’t find the occasions when she would have to. That was normal for them and for her; she thought that was how things were supposed to be, since that was how it was in their family.

Of course, as she grew up, she saw the problem. She never once felt a deep and magical connection within them, and so the moment she did with other people, with a partner, she was doing it all wrong. She acted tough and indifferently, and hesitated to show affection. It was difficult to believe whenever she says she likes or loves something because there was no hint of sincerity in her. Deep down, she was full of love and passion, but she just wasn’t used to expressing herself. Eventually, she learned to fully trust herself in loving someone, even affectionately and sweetly, even if that’s entirely new to her. It was a very brave step that she took, although in the end, just like what she learned in the environment that she grew up in, she thought that loving someone gives them the excuse to hurt you. She anchored all of her connection with people to this belief, and it went on and on,

a magical yet dysfunctional and toxic first relationship for her. Until she learned the hard way that it didn’t need to be like that. That it doesn’t have to hurt for you to believe it’s real. She was terrible to her best friend too, always taking her for granted and never making her feel how much she meant to her. She just tells her, "You’re my only best friend and you’re special to me," yet never really proves it or reciprocates the good things her best friend does for her. She thought it was okay to be casual, that simply telling her "You're my best friend" would be enough. That’s how it was in their family. She doesn’t always feel the support and the warmth, but there was nothing she could do because they were her family regardless. She thought of friendship as the same thing, but apparently it wasn’t. She knows now that you need to show people that you care for them and value what you have with them before it’s too late and the two of you drift apart.

She also never knew how to distinguish extreme emotions. She despises her parents so much that she believes she will never forgive them. But then, on some days, she finds herself genuinely enjoying the things her mother brought her and the support her father gave her whenever she pursued something at school. She thought the relationship was confusing. Actually, all her relationships with people were. Once, she concluded that she’d have to bear with them and stick to them no matter the circumstances, as a way of payment to them for raising her. That she needs to be grateful to them for providing her basic needs, so she must endure and never complain.

For the most part, Annie was hurt and tired. She wished to leave the toxic environment. Sometimes, she sees her parents as people who are attending to their wounded inner child. In the most grueling moments, she looks at them and thinks, "They’re treating me the way they have been treated before. They know no other way of raising and loving me but by the way they were raised and loved before. "

And it was such a dilemma for her, because she didn’t know if she should hate them now, or feel sorry instead.

Annie sighs and wipes away a fresh tear from her cheek.

“I have been suffocating for the longest time now, and if I continue to stay here, I might actually die.”

At the first step towards the train, she felt an unsettling tug in her gut.

At the second, she takes a deep breath and looks around. Somehow, a smile found its way to her face, and the unsettling feeling was slowly replaced with relief.

At the third, fourth, and fifth, she was inside the train and scanning for a seat near the window.

As she sat down, she thought of how people needed to be hurt to learn something. It would probably be an overstatement to say they have been hurting all their lives, but she believes they’ve inflicted an enough amount of pain toward each other. At least now, this hurt might actually do something good. Not just for herself, but for everyone around her.

As the engines roared to life and a motion blurred the sight out the window, her mind went quiet, and she does not hear the taunting voice anymore.

She wishes they would see the letter she left by their bedroom door. She wishes they would forgive her for what she did.

But she isn’t sorry, really. Not in the very least.

Annie dozes off and dreams of the place where she can grow and raise herself again. But that dream’s within reach now. She is riding the train towards that place.

The Trailblazer EDITORIAL BOARD

ADVISER Dr. Ramir Philip Jones V. Sonsona • EDITOR IN CHIEF Ryan L. Gaas • ASSOCIATE MANAGING EDITOR FOR FINANCE/SENIOR SPORTS WRITER Britney W. Banaag

PUBLICATION SECRETARY / NEWS EDITOR Arnel James Y. Suprito

ASSOCIATE PUBLICATION SECRETARY/SENIOR FEATURE WRITER Eriel Indra R. Albarece

FEATURES/LIFESTYLE EDITOR Rissa S. Trazo

SPORTS EDITOR Brian Jay B. Vallejo

CREATIVE DIRECTOR Mark Jerome A. Orejenes

ASSISTANT CREATIVE DIRECTOR Ryan Rashed O. Dongiapon

HEAD, VIDEOGRAPHY AND PHOTOGRAPHY EDITOR Mikhail Christian B. Gallana

HEAD, LAYOUT AND GRAPHICS EDITOR Gerson John P. Salvacion

NEWS WRITERS Catherine Mae S. Guegue, Charbie H. Balistoy, Karen Crystal B. Paler,Michelle L. Salvan, Vic Anthon T. Jaudian, Lady Trisha D. Salazar

FEATURE WRITERS Shannen Ashley Ramirez, Hannah Karyll G. Insong, Louisse L. Achacoso

LIFESTYLE WRITERS Mashiel Rose Dango • SPORTS WRITERS Zandrin Khristy M. Tortosa, Joshua T. Lagrimas

PHOTOJOURNALIST Jan Karl Malone C. Pague • CARTOONIST Angela D. Balsomo

LAYOUT ARTIST Llane Graceza B. Benting, Joear T. Berdon, John Michael B. Reita, Handy Rick I. Tampon • GRAPHICS ARTIST Neon Martin A. Abuyo PUBLISHER Students of the Universtiy of Science and Technology of Southern Philippines - Cagayan de Oro Campus