Marawi, Will Rise Again

Marawi, Will Rise Again

The privilege of being able to sit tonight in front of my computer with the deafening silence to accompany me is gold.

Our house isn’t big but I’m still fortunate for having enough space to stretch my legs and arms. I might not have eaten the most exquisite dinner yet my stomach had no room for another bit of food.

At this hour of the night, 11:38 pm to be exact while another millennial (from Visayas or Luzon) scrolls up and down through his / her smartphone.  It’s the same hour where bullets glide into the air, exchanging gun fires from our military officers and a group of extremists called ISIS.

Once, the news about ISIS killings were just horror stories that you could read on social media. What I thought was a wishy washy issue now costs lives of civilians and more than 50 Filipino military officers and counting.

It’s sickening to hear statistics of fatalities on the radio every morning but like they always said, truth hurts, truth tastes bitter but you still have to eat it.

In the morning, you woke up with the sound of your alarm and get yourself dressed for school or for work. Easy.

For the evacuees in Marawi, seeing another sunrise is a blessing but being woken up by the sound of airstrikes is both a curse and a gift.

It gives them hope that one day, this war will finally be ceased. This will pound the enemies to death but sad to say, it is the same bombs that destroyed their homes, pharmacies and some other places that once erected in the land of Marawi. Airstrikes were crushing the buildings, schools and roads they built from ashes. Considering the length of time, roads and infrastructures are built in the Philippines. It will surely take time to mend and get things back to normal.

The fallen heroes and the ones who are still fighting until now, bargaining their normal life for the love of country. I could not send through my ‘thank you’ and so I wrote this blog post.

We were just lucky to have brave men to cover us from the bullets, some of them even made their bodies a human shield to protect civilians. There names and faces flashed on the screen once, yet their deeds and heroism will always be engraved in the lives of those whom they saved.

I know how the death of a loved one crushed the heart and I may not transcribe the pain I saw in the eyes of a tearful Military Officer as I stop scrolling down on my news feed. I can not write the words for it. But the pain wires through. It was infectious.

It crushed me, seeing these armies in a straight line, carrying human-sized boxes, a coffin of their own comrade. There’s nothing as painful as that. Made me question why good people die first?

To give chance for the bad people to change? To be a great example? Whatever that is, it will serve its purpose. It will inspire, it will touch lives. I hope.

I am just saddened by the apathy most of us are showing. Only a few shows interest in donating and helping our Maranaonan brothers and sisters.

I just hope many would care to the survivors in the evacuation area. Health problems were arising, infectious diseases have killed some of the evacuees. Children were getting thin. While we indulge our normal life, earning pesos or dollars a day, I wish we could share a little and send baskets of food, that will not only sustain the victims physically but will also restore their hopes.

 

But even how bad the war is, we could still hear stories about Muslims defending their Christian friends, despite the differences, the religious perspective was set aside. And for that moment, there were no Katoliko or Muslim.

There were only Filipinos.

If they were only no factions, no divisions, no walls.

 

Photo Credit: Abs Cbn

 

Good People

You see a glimpse of silver lining to every people you meet.

Not all of them will stay but each of them will certainly have a purpose.

 

They will find you with no might, no purpose, no hopes left and they leave you fixed, robust than the moment the day found you.

 

 

Random Thoughts – 040517

We live in irony where the blind could far better perceive hope and has infallible optimism than the ones who have vision yet can not see the beauty of life.

Ironic that the ones who couldn’t see the light have outweighed the others who have seen every inch of the world.

I guess it is the mind that is paralytic not the arms, nor the eyes that is impaired.

 

The one who couldn’t see the light is actually the source, the one who has the ability to glow and lit other’s life with inspiration.

 

Random Thoughts – 031717

The dreams you piled have crashed like falling legos
in the floor,they lay aspread.
If we were still kids,
we would happily put the legos back.
Build it again, make the foundation a little stronger,
and break them again.
Dang! If only we’re still kids.
No anxieties, stress and pressures going on in our head,
stuff we usually made on our own.
A manufactory of bad thoughts, bed monsters coming into life.

Inspired by the Quote ‘Life sucks and Then it’s Great’

 Maybe life was all about striving and getting tired, a little bit of sprinkles of hope, motivation and wisdom and then faith. Maybe it was all about destroying one’s self and whoever survives — rebuilds to become better version of them.
Maybe life was all about making mistakes and doing it over and over again.. until the lessons were devoured by our minds.
Maybe life was all about being naked, stripping the last part of cloth, the last part of protection because only in nudity of the soul, you become yourself. Maybe that’s where you begin to know the real you.

Maybe life was all about filling one’s cup and then learning when to empty them.

 Maybe life shapes you through certain pressures, right molding, twisting, cuts and bruises, to strip off that last piece of cloth so you’ll be more comfortable, confident…

With your own skin and your own battle scars.

Maybe, sometimes you have to lose yourself once more, forget the old you, to become that person you want yourself to be.

Note to self:

Belated Happy 24th! You weren’t the scientist you dreamed of when you were just a fourth grader but you’re the writer of this blog. That’s whole a lot more cool because powerpuff girls were made by writers not by Professor X. 🙂

It was Time

And in just a flick, I bury that part of my memory

I bury that part to the most secluded corner of my thoughts..

“It was time” my heart and mind said.

 

Time to cut the thread of hope, time to scrape every promising daydreams, time to stop thinking on the possibilities.

It was time — not to move on rather to move forward.

 

 

 

Can we still?

Can we still?

I wanted to wait for the day when your gestures doesn’t count any significance anymore..

When the glances are no less than platonic discussion of the eyes..

The day when we stop waiting for each other turn so we don’t cross the same path and all will be the same as usual again.

I can’t wait for that day that we could go back to normal, no more awkward silences and hesitations to converse, can we still?

 

(But I know we can’t…so I won’t make it hard for you..)