Though it seems out of date, it rings timeless (and inspired by the ghost of my conscience). Not by that fool, unhinged and stuck on the 1st of April. How that came to be, I don’t know. The fool that I am, I just know somewhere, sometimes, some thing inside us break free – to …
As I write this, I struggle to find fault or some grievance to remember him by. It’s a struggle I now pledge to embrace until that day comes. That day I can share his candor and kindness. And learn to smile just as freely and stay as calm, amid the world’s need to worry and …
LOVINGLY DEDICATED to someone who said it was “easy to write a CHILDREN’S STORY.” My biggest Shukran for making me scramble with one. One that tells us, we do seem to create our own monsters – as a person or as a Nation, and that the sad end of either, is far from being child-friendly, …
(Part I) Often, the more fascinating kind spring out of the blue, like an unread Louis L’ Amour among PG-18 stuff. Or, a leather-boot-strutting Cool Uncle’s visit, light years off-grid, and spotting you share the same shoe size. Surfing for Mark Manson self-help videos on YouTube, I stumbled on my recent fascination in the ongoing …
On July 29, in the Lower House’s Committee on Human Rights’ fourth inquiry into the “Drug War Years,” victims anew shared their ordeals. Their accounts aimed to put a human face on a ‘War’ that left thousands dead, law enforcers included, and thousands more – widowed, fatherless, motherless, orphaned, traumatized and scarred for life. In …
In 2172 B.C., one degree down the equator, an island town’s mass exodus started simmering at dusk. CCTV Cameras trained on choice spots all over the island town – split into The Ghetto North and The Plush South – played to an underground chamber below a southern mansion. One cam, mounted to an ancient Mahogany …
In response to a dear teacher’s ask on my take, re: The PBBM-VP Sara “Rift” and the latter’s resignation as DepEd Secretary and NTF-ELCAC Vice Chair, I proffer but an echo, an eighth sense of the insights of our political pundits, whatever that is. Still, may I say, at once, that several grounds apply – …
In a recent voice chat – somewhat reminiscent of the TV show “Kids Say the Darndest Things” – Hannah, my twelve-year-old niece, delightfully schooled me on writing and on a gut-core matter I’ve been wrestling with, most of my pseudo-adult life. You see, I was this crass caveman, long unmoved and cushioned from thoughtful talk. …
Soft snores stirred to a quiet, and the face – firm and fiery, of many a protest against man’s folly – broke into a naughty smile. Freshly-brewed coffee won’t fail me now. Anyway, the mischief seemed pardoned by the promise of hearty breakfast. Pulling on worn rubber boots, Doc Mike rubbed his fingers, lured by …
In whatever age – to the Fisherman, the lake is family. A brother, he most hours of the day wrestled with for one more day with the oars. His boat was a brother, too. Like his fathers before him, the lake made him more than a man. In a hut he shared with his love …
