A precarious balance

Everyone has dreams, don't they? And in one way or another, everyone is trying to make his or her own dreams come true. That kid practicing his three-pointer in a street court, for instance: he's probably dreaming of growing up to make a game-winning shot in the NBA. Or that college student slaving away at a lit critique paper, she's probably hoping to see her name next to her debut novel in a bestseller list someday. Whatever it is, everyone has a dream. And everyone somehow works to make it come to life. 

And yet... how to make that happen? Where do people go to make their dreams come true?

Elections!

And thus Election Day in the Philippines came and went. An increasingly frenzied media marathon of the events of May 10th, 2010 included a discussion of a berth of related issues, both positive and negative, as well as real-time reports of the process from precincts all over the country. Ultimately, the media revealed what is a genuine step forward in the Philippine electoral process.

On facial fitness and missing controls

This is a tribute to the insanity of old age and the absent-mindedness of youth.

Who IS that masked man?

Superheroes. A concept that has been tackled in so many ways over so many years that I figured no original work can ever come of it again. Until tonight.

Numb

It hasn't really hit me yet in full, the fact that I'm graduating. I realized it a little bit earlier today, when I put my toga on for the first time and heard Baccalaureate Mass at school. But even then--even while surrounded by my co-graduates at the Ateneo High School covered courts, with everyone in near-full graduation attire--I still felt detached, as though I was watching someone else go through the motions of culminating their academic career.

Whether or not I wrap my brain around it in time, however, it is happening, and it's happening to me. After fifteen years of uniforms, textbooks, report cards, evil teachers and awesome ones, friends, relationships, enemies, cafeteria food, school-hours traffic, homework, classrooms, and the whole she-bang... it's over. Tomorrow, sometime between four-thirty in the afternoon and eight at night, I'm going to get up on that stage, shake Fr. Ben's hand, and descend the stairs once again, no longer a student.

Written Some Months Ago and Never Made Public

  A Dangerous Love Affair

The high-pitched squeak of rubber soles on a rubber floor. The echoing thud of a basketball as it’s dribbled across the court. The inarticulate yells of players as they attempt to pass, catch, fake, score. The shrill sound of a whistle as a referee calls the foul. And the deafening ring of the buzzer as it signals the end of play. Five months ago, these sounds meant nothing to me, were as unfamiliar to my ears as Jay-Z’s rapping would be to Mozart. Today, they feel almost like home.  

What happened in the time between? It’s simple: I fell in love.

Family Matters

We love 'em, we hate 'em, we can't live with them or without them. No, I'm not talking about men (hehe). I'm talking about family.