Righting Self Before Stumbling

And if my going towards you is when I stumble the hardest, when I bruise the blackest, when I see the least light,

When I cry the hardest,

Should I not stop making these tracks and turn toward the opposite sun instead?

I have stumbled before, and badly.
I have bruised before, and could not walk for the pain of it.
I have followed the faintest of lights before, and lost my sight.

And the tears that I have spent. All. Those. Tears. (I am hard pressed to find anyone who has cried more for a lost and lonely and hopeless hope than I.)

But always, always

ALWAYS

I manage to right myself, my bruises fade, and I begin to see again.

And I run out of hope to cry for.

BUT

If my going towards you is when I fall and never rise, when I bruise the bruise that will never fade, when I never again ever see,

When I find no end to the tears,

Should I not stop making these tracks and turn toward the opposite sun instead?

Limits are never the easiest to discern when running towards a light one can barely see. And one can never tell when strength will choose to depart. When will will disappear. When right will cease to matter.

So maybe, maybe,

MAYBE.

A different sun would be better for me.

If It's Not Too Much to Ask...

In a man, the gentleness of a woman, the understated satisfaction instead of the effusive pride. The tenderness when touching a sleeping child, the respect given to people who have less in life, the laughter at the stupidest of jokes, the appreciation of wit and sarcasm, the quiet intelligence which need not be announced.

In a man, a passion that emanates from every pore, not loud, not necessarily proclaimed from the rooftop for all to hear, but a passion felt in the hunger in his kisses, the tightness of his embrace, the sweep of his caresses, in the quiet of solitude, in every move he makes.

A man who makes love to a woman not like she is the last woman on earth, but like she is the best and only woman on earth for him, forsaking all others. Who will hold her afterward, and in between, with respect and gentleness.

A man who will never make a woman walk behind him, will never force her to be strong for him, will never ask of her to say goodbye to her ambition to give birth to the fruits of his. Who is not defined by how strong he looks in comparison to the woman beside him. Who has long since defined his character by holding on to his dignity, sacrificing none of his integrity, in pursuing his dreams. Who will stand a woman on his shoulders if she cannot see the road ahead, who will have the courage to admit that she is better at one thing (most things) than he is, and not ever think less of himself.

A man who will see in the signs of age on a woman’s face and body, beauty and experience, and appreciate the added quality and depth time has given her. A child born and carried and raised and maybe even lost, moments of dancing in abandon in the rain, on the streets, in a crowded room, and alone, lovers –good and bad- had and abandoned, the memories of songs. A road chosen that not everyone traveled, a quiet sacrifice made, an excruciating pain survived. Laughs she had at her expense, a love for the simple and the mundane, and- depending on the circumstances- a feel for the complicated and the neutral and the patterned and the plain and riots of color and decidedly gray shades.

A man who does not define a woman by the designers she wears, or the places she goes to, or how she looks in a bathing suit, or the name of her family, or how she fits- or doesn’t- the standard so proudly provided by the marketing geniuses of the world.

In a man, the knowledge that strong, and generous, and kind, and caring, and smart are not qualities a woman should be privileged to have in a man, but qualities without which he would not even make the measure of what a real man is. That a woman who allows her doors to be opened and her chairs to be pulled out and her bags to be carried for her surrenders none of her strength, proclaims no dependence, acknowledges no inequality. That a woman who speaks her mind and does as it tells her has no balls but a brain she has chosen to use in the way it was intended.

In a man, the awareness that a woman can make it alone- no less happy or fulfilled- should she not find all that she wants in him, that she can always still look for those qualities in other men and not be confined to one option only, and, mostly,

In a man, the appreciation and gratitude that she has still chosen to place her hand in his and walk with him.

DEAR OPPRESSIVE FACEBOOK (and everything else sunshiny) BLOCKERS

Can I just say that the tyranny of the systems administrators of every workplace in the world must end?

We know that you wield all the power. You can spy on our emails, our every little computer or net related action, punish us for every dig we may make about computer geeks, etc.

But really. Blocking access to FACEBOOK? MULTIPLY? YOU-friggin-TUBE? Must you really make a career of being THE MAN’s weapon of doom and utter demoralization? And hellow, UP people, TMZ and PEREZ HILTON????? NOT PORN.

NOT PORN!!!!!! They are happy sites. Lovely gossip spreading sites. The pot(s) of gold at the end of the rainbow.

(and please don’t tell me you block YOUR access to the happy places. You can’t be THAT honorable. UNfair)

I know, I know, the concern is work productivity. Even I saw the article about how people who facebook get lower test scores. And I suppose all the online stalking really eats away at a poor white collar slave’s time. BUT STILL. CONSIDER:

1. The MAGICAL MYSTICAL QUALITY OF THE HUMAN RACE THAT IS PERSEVERANCE

Block this site, that site, whatever. And people will find a way to consume their time (which should, I know, be devoted to, ya know, stuff they get paid to do) doing other things, like looking for an unblocked happy fun place (site), flirting with co-workers in person, sneaking in a bottle or two of magic water (booze), texting their friends, using the copy room in ways not really conceived of by office space planning people. IN SHORT, wasting WAY MORE TIME looking for other things to occupy them.

And STILL NOT WORKING. Plus, even more resentful.


2. NETWORKING (and for YOU, SPYING) OPPORTUNITIES LOST

In a world, at a time and place, where who you know and what you know are rapidly taking second place to WHEN you know what you know, networking sites can often spell the difference between knowing what you need to know and being the ignorant little schmuck who’ll find out three days later. When it’s all OLD news.

Plus, the connections, man. The people you ordinarily can’t random email, you can stalk online.

And the photos of the hot people. Or people period. How else can they post with impunity? By the time they get home, facebook-less and networking-site-less, they won’t be in the mood to post their shit.

And THAT does NO ONE any good. AT ALL.



3. OH, THE UNFAIRNESS (AND TYRANNY) OF IT ALL!

We are at a moment in time where what we know and how we spread what we know may spell the difference between being oppressed and being free.

The networking sites are doing for people what texting did in 2001. (Never mind, of course, that the little woman has since then enjoyed the power a wee bit much.) It made people aware, and outraged. It made people move. A million people in EDSA. Singing Freddie Aguilar songs, for crying out loud. Changing history!!!!!!!!

Do you REALLY want to be the people blamed for the failure of the next people powered magic move? Because no one knows ANYTHING? Because some people only read news because there are links posted? And will therefore just drink rather than read?

REALLY?

Plus, did it ever occur to you, systems administrator, and YOU, THE MAN, that sucking what little happiness can be derived in the workplace can be not only totally unfair, but deleterious to productivity? Have you not read the books I have read on HR theory? Which say that HAPPY WORKERS ARE GREAT WORKERS?

I’m sure I read it somewhere. The alcohol has killed my memory cell things.


4. The OPTION TO BE THE GOD EVERYONE WORSHIPS

SERIOUSLY. It’s nice, really, to be able to say that you are the all powerful weapon of THE MAN. I’d think, though, that it’d be better for you guys to be all good with the harmless peons. They will, after all, get promoted or whatever. And thus, become THE MAN. Wouldn’t you want them to owe you?

I WOULD. Except I am a total tech idiot.




I’m sure that you’ll be offended by this (and thus far I have proven to be WAY adept at offending people), but please. Before taking steps toward fulfilling your desire for revenge, keep in mind that life has sucked everything out of me. From the much missed laptop, to the beer pot belly thing, to the dry hair thing, to the always poor thing, to the being virtually unemployable thanks to my NOT SO STELLAR GRADES thing, to EVERYTHING!!!!! And you should just derive pleasure from that.


You know we wantses the precious back. Would it hurt you, really, to give us the precious back?

Can’t we all just be friends?

Can’t we all just give peace a chance?

Don’t mind me. I have been drunk since April.

NOTICE

I know that the tongues have started wagging.

The professors, who refuse to see how any of this could be their fault. Who will no doubt see this as an argument to boost their push for weeding out the college of the people they perceive as unworthy.

The other schools, who no doubt are rejoicing in the downfall of one of the most arrogant institutions of the people.

And this year’s bar candidates have no doubt started to feel the numbness brought about by fear and nervousness.

(I, for one, having another year before I need to worry, am instead focusing on the very very doable goal of 100% B 2009)

While of course the passing rate IS something to worry about, and while of course the College cannot and should not rest on its laurels, I highly doubt that pressuring this year’s bar candidates will in any way benefit them.

This is THEIR bar. THEIR future. THEIR four years of withstanding and surviving and rising above the insults, the unfairness, the favoritism, the politicking being held up to scrutiny.

Telling them that they bear the name of the institution that has produced some of the greatest men and women, leaders and teachers, living legends and martyrs, and some of the most evil minds this country has ever seen, will only add to the burden of knowing that their passing, or failing, the bar will judge adequacy with which they have spent the past four years of their lives.

And it won’t change matters at all.

Because I am confident that MY bar candidates, my blockmates, have already taken steps to address their perceived shortcomings for the bar, and they need no more admonishment from well-meaning (or not) people that they step up. I am confident that my other former batchmates have already addressed their inadequacies too.

Henceforth, notice is served on everyone that I will tolerate ONLY ENCOURAGEMENT for MY bar candidates, and NO PRESSURE. If I hear anyone breathe so much as a number close to 72.5, or 77, or 1 out of every 4, they will receive a tongue-lashing such as they have never received, from a person who is tired of seeing the punishment for the shortcomings of others meted out on the innocents.

There is no way pressure can help them at this point.

The time is past.

Perhaps what could have helped was not discussing a REALLY thick case for a month. Perhaps a greater study of the second book of the Revised Penal Code could have helped.

Perhaps not kicking out people who could’ve passed the bar could have helped. The 39 people who flunked nego can only look back now and say, it’s done. Retaken, done.

Perhaps scrutinizing the grades of people who have gotten straight 1s from the same prof (who happened to be a FAMILY member) could’ve helped. Cause obviously a professor who shows up for all of 3 classes cannot be presumed to have had adequate basis for giving a 1 to anyone except that there was an affiliation that could not be ignored.

Perhaps there could’ve been more profs like our persons prof and our civil procedure and evidence prof, who scared the bejeezus out of us, so much so that years later we can still remember their voices triggering a rise in our collective blood pressure. Or more of a certain crim one prof who could send us to drink as we pondered how heavy it felt to disappoint a truly kind a great professor. Or more of the professors who teach because they love to, who have either never gotten their pay from the College, or have spent it all on us.

Those things could have helped, without a doubt. But now the time has passed.

All we can do now is to help where we can and encourage where we can. And maybe, to remember that they are not just bar candidates who carry the name of the college, but they are sons and daughters, with parents who have bright hopes and desperate hopes for them. And there is no greater burden than that. Let’s not add to it.





To this year's bar candidates, I have nothing but full faith and confidence in you. Whichever way the wind will blow, you all will still have a reason to be proud of yourselves.

Toga Thoughts

I’m not graduating this year, and really, I’m glad I’m not. Because I’m thankful I’m not taking part in what may prove to be the most ridiculous vote taking exercise ever.

Though I would vote for toga, given a chance to do so, because of the following reasons:

- It’s classy. We are a grad school, and we ought to show a bit more class considering that we ARE theoretically considered adults and above the petty desire to look as individual and sexy and whatever as possible.

- It’s uniform. Recognition rites are held to RECOGNIZE the fact that against all odds, and damn if law school hasn’t given such horrible odds to its students, we managed to finish. Alive, and still possessed of whatever sanity we had (maybe a bit less) when we entered. The recognition rites are not a fashion show. How bout we show up wearing the same thing in recognition of the fact that we all went through the same thing? (Though of course the chosen few –fratmen, favorites, brownnosing dickshits- had a bit less of THE SAME THING)

- IT IS TRADITION. No matter that they say that the toga isn’t the official graduation attire. Like the powers that be have said, the reason for compelling attendance at the University Rites is because the Univ Rites IS the official graduation. The Recognition Rites are a college affair. Therefore, the choice of attire should not necessarily have to follow the mandate of the University.

My father’s class, and the class before his, and many of the classes after his, and my sister’s class, and the classes since then, have all chosen to wear the toga. Because it’s more or less a law school tradition.

The class pictures of toga wearing grads all have that distinct, dignified, classic look. Never mind that quite a few of our grads will choose to go on with their lives in distinctly undignified, class-less, sneaky, fucked-up ways.

I don’t remember there ever being such pressure (any pressure at all, actually), to wear the sablay to the college rites. Then again, years before, there were NO plans for a Special Sablay. Students could wear their old ones, or borrow from whomever should they not want to buy news ones, and just spend for the toga, which they could actually keep (in anticipation of passing the bar and the oath-taking, where the toga could be worn again).

Also, if you’re willing to be COMPELLED to pay 350 bucks for a party you may or may not go to anyways, and probably not everyone will go to, then why not pony up the money for something you can wear to an event ALL of you will most probably go to?

What’s the logic behind your argument re: expenses?

The Theater will be air conditioned, so nix the argument about it being hot and sweaty underneath. You can wear light weight clothes to ensure that too.

Oh well. It’d have been nice lang to see the graduating class in the toga. I hope the toga vote wins.

I need a drink.

the end of the road as i know it

while once i hoped that years from now we could, in spite of the pain of 9 years past, in spite of the tears - and what piercingly painful, terribly draining, incredibly tiring, seemingly endless tears they were- and the words that people like us inevitably exchanged as we were both strong willed, though i did then bow to yours,

while there were moments in the first few years since then when i thought, here is the love of my life. why am i not with him now? why do i cringe at the idea of him loving someone else?

and when of course, time finally did its job and healed those sad and festering wounds, when we could share stories sitting by a quiet courtside, when we could smile and remember painful moments at the same time,

when i found, finally, the man i plan to spend the rest of my life loving,

i thought that against all those odds i thought i could never surmount in those early years,

you could be my friend, as i had always been yours, as i always truly had been, from the moment i forgave you the pain. we could share a few drinks as gray-haired friends, our children could play together, we could celebrate our successes and our families together.

and we could laugh about those early years when i thought myself in love with you when really, i was just a lonely little girl who thought she could love so young and love for long. and you could appreciate with me the road i have since taken, towards this bright and sunshiny man i cannot live without. and i could tell you of this man, this man who has given me a love that teaches me everyday that there is a love to be had from a man who can manage to not be selfish and unhappy, who teaches me to not be unselfish and unhappy.

but while i never faltered in my efforts to be the best friend to you i could possibly be, you have never ceased to amaze me with how far you will go to show the dishonesty of your avowal of friendship.

and i suppose as you danced with your beloved while i was drinking with friends -not knowing that you were then getting married, not even given the chance to politely decline an insincere invitation, as i would have out of respect for your wife and her unfounded jealousy- you spared no thought for me, you spared no guilt for me that i, that i who you caused such immeasurable and life-altering pain 9 years past, who managed to forgive you and be friends with you and treat you as a brother, you have slapped in the face once again?

once again, and for the last time.

because you are no longer my friend, and the love for you, my friend, that i have fought to keep in a tiny but important part of my heart where the space for the friends i fight so hard for- even when the urge to hate them and remove them and the pain they cause my life almost consumes me and drains me and tires me to the point where i dread the rising of the sun- resides,

that love is gone.

and i will cry one last time for the final disappointment you have dealt me. and my hope that i could have a friend like you who knew me when i had hopes, who knew me when i almost gave up, to remind me to be thankful of my future,

and then i will move forward, now more than ever grateful for the true and constant friends i do have and should give all my love to, now more than ever thankful to have been blessed with MY beloved, who would never stifle me and never hold me back from a friendship i valued, who urges me to celebrate my life with the people i want to celebrate it with.

and i will spare you these words, and i will spare you these thoughts.

but no more after this.

you are no longer my friend.

i no longer love you.

and i will no longer fight for you.

TWO KILOMETERS!

two friggin' kilometers from my house to the place where i, for some unfathomable reason, continue to matriculate.

you'd think i could manage to get to school in under ten minutes.

but NOOOOOOOO.

a turtle going at turtle miles per hour could cover two kilometers in the time it takes me to get to school these days.

i would think that living, as i do, two kilometers away from school, it's not unreasonable for me to expect to get to school on time (especially when i actually get up early with the aim to get to school on time).

is it?

@!#&*%!!!!!!!!!!!

die road widening project!!!!

DIE.

THREE MORE DAYS!

and the light of my life, and bane of my existence, will be back!

(unless MEAN MEAN MEAN JV his friend meant it pala when he said nung birthday ko - hmph- that Jonas would be back earlier than he told me!!!!!)


WHEEE!!!!