Of course she’s gonna say she’s happy for you 

and flash that famous smile 

but look into her eyes, baby you broke her.

I want to write. 

I just don't know what to write about. 

Justice for Given Grace

When I got back home yesterday, I was shocked when I heard the news about a UPLB student being murdered and raped a few days ago. I was terribly heartbroken that there are people out there who can do such things to a fragile soul. I couldn't sleep last night thinking about the things they did to her. I don't know her personally, but I know that she could have achieved and accomplished so much in life had not some evils forcefully took his life.

I can only imagine how her parents might feel right now. It's really painful that they sent their child to a different city just to get a good education and then she ended up being this way. I feel really shattered and scared that there might be a possibility that this cruelty might happen again to other people. I'm really hoping that it will not.

Even when I think that she's in a safer place right now, I can't help but think that she couldn't have died that way. She didn't deserve to die that way. No one does, actually. I really hate that I can't put into words the anguish, sadness, anger, and a couple more emotions I can't identify that I'm feeling right now. I haven't cried for justice as I did today.

I really do pray for justice on Given's case.

The best gift I had for my birthday is being home.

For four days, I had been traveling here and there--buses were my hotel rooms, language barrier sometimes got in the way, and strangers were my company. I had no road map, neither the convenience of google map; it's amazing I found my way home. For a homebody like me, I feel that being back home is a huge achievement.

I also feel like I've matured to a higher degree. Though when I talk to people about my job, they hardly believe me because they said I only look like a student. Believe it or not, I traveled on my own from Davao to Agusan del Sur to Cagayan de Oro to Misamis Occidental to Zamboanga del Norte in just a matter of four days. Yes, I can hardly believe it myself.

I feel blessed that God protected me all throughout this journey. I never experienced any hassles or problems or whatsoever. When I got there, a typhoon was entering the area. I was really afraid that I might not make it home today. But I did, and when I got home, I felt I've been missed. My parents prepared my favorite food as if I've been away from home for a year. My friends left me many messages asking me to go out for dinner as soon as possible. I feel all kinds of wonderful for my birthday this year, I think I would never run out of things to smile about until I turn 22. :)

Thanks so much for everyone who made my day extra special. I've never felt more homely than I do today. :)

Traveling sure gets me down and lonely.

You're so far away.

Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore?

Desensitized

I am 24 percent done with my work load. Well, I really like looking at my glass half full. Thank you. :)

All along, I thought I'm going to be desensitized of human drama after interviewing people with the same set of questions two to three times a day. Everyone has a story to tell, and now I believe that. Although I must admit, there were times when my thoughts would take me some place else; all thanks to the sweet bitter smell of kapeng barako and the never-ending acoustic music played over and over again in a small coffee shop where I meet people for an hour or so to talk about their lives.

I've never used my eyes, ears, and hands more than I had in the past two weeks of doing this job. Although I already did series of interviews as a student, this time I feel different. Unlike before, when I needed to do interviews, I did it because it is required of me and I just wanted a decent grade. Now, I wanted to come up with good interviews because I want these stories to be told in the best way possible.

On my way home, I'm suddenly reminded of a Korean movie I watched before. It's said there that "A true artist fears a blank canvass." I was thinking of this, except in a writer's point of view. I think a true writer also fears a blank paper. At least, I believe I am afraid of that.

There are times when I ask myself if I could really write something worth a read. The only people who praised me for my writing capabilities are my friends. Well, they are my friends so perhaps they are not counted as people who admire my writing. I am quite hesitant about finishing this project, but I am really hoping that in the end of the story, I'll surpass the fear of an empty paper and maybe, touch people through my writing. Some part of me is excited while the other part is still doubtful. But the good always win over the evil so I know that I'll get past through this and finally, fill my glass full. :)

I feel really lazy writing, though. Ugh. :|