for a confuse filipino me

-----la lang to----- requirement namin for socio 10..... sayang naman kc... kaya eto pinost ko... bihira lang naman akong magpost e...


For a Confuse Filipino Me
A Reflection of “Who Wants to be a Filipino” by Herdy L. Yumul

For someone born in an ill-fated country such as the Philippines, an ultimate offer of being reincarnated, endowed with the complete power of choice to become someone somewhere else, is definitely, highly irresistible.

When that opportunity knocks on your door, in an instant, hope sparks on your face, as an endless array of possibilities of who you could become comes flashing right in front of you. Most probably, more often than not, the last and least thing on your mind is to let go of that precious chance to stay exactly as you are.

You might begin considering to be born as an intelligent man from England, whose thoughts could be written and published into books. Or might choose to be a romantic lover from Paris, in just a whisper, you could get yourself in a marriage. Perhaps a stylish model from Italy, in a walk or a pose, fashion transforms into mania. Or be a creative Japanese, whose inventive ideas could usher a powerful technological era. And of course, not to forget, an American – in just a single word, the world might just be yours.

Possibilities are limitless. Just choose and everything will change. Imagine. You will never have to be a simple Filipino anymore. You don’t have to worry anymore fixing your daily budget – finding ways and means to sustain a normal living against the ailing economy of rising prices of basic commodities. You will never have to deal with the bad EDSA traffic or the freaking-hot climate. You will no longer be treated harshly when you’re abroad, just because you were born in a “land of domestic helpers, construction workers, caregivers, teachers, entertainers”; worst to be mistaken as a prostitute from a “planet of sex” – as labeled to the Philippines by a famous men’s magazine. You don’t have to force yourself to swallow the obvious reality and bitter tastes of politicking and corruption. You will no longer be ashamed of who you are nor dream of that moment when someone would knock in your door to offer you an once-in-a-lifetime chance of reincarnation of your choice. Imagine. In one choice, you could become just like them. Everything will change.

Given that offer, you have thought that you should never again become Filipino. You could choose any possibility other than who you are. But in all honesty, deep inside you, you would still want to be born as a Filipino. You would like to see that name rises in full dignity, glorified by the world. You would like to change everything in your country, not everything that is you. You would want to see the reawakening of the people who are in deep slumber of corruption and degradation, and are victims of a selective amnesia of history. You have always wanted to be as exactly as you are – born in a tropical land to a loving, intact family, to dear friends, unified by a common language, understanding and one God.

You realize you never needed the offer of a reincarnation. All you really wanted is to turn back the time, when we never should have become victims of colonizers. We should not have known this people, who brainwashed us not to know ourselves.

You realize you never wanted to become an intelligent Englishman, a romantic French, a stylish Italian, a creative Japanese, nor be a powerful American…especially not an American. You never wanted to become an American whose words are so powerful – they can have the world in their hands. You never wanted to fool any country and be responsible for bombs dropped, wars started, nor of lives that perished.

You realize you would always want to be a Filipino. You should always be Filipino. You concluded that there is still dignity in being one. Heroism is in your blood. Then, you imagined that what you are experiencing today is nothing compared to the times of Rizal or of Bonifacio. They never faltered for their belief in the Filipino. They fought for our recognition – for a separate nation and identity – that is truly ours. You realize you could be like them. You are an alive Filipino – in thoughts, in words, in deeds.

and so i return...

yah. im back.

finally ive gotten rid of all the doubts in my mind.... "that im not worthy to be keeping this journal" "that im not a writer"

so who f**king cares! this is my lair... this is where i could be free, didn't i say?


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it is the worst enrollment ever....

i came to school by 7 just to skip all the hassles of standing in long queues only to be stabbed by an enemy i thought i am most prepared of .... all these years.....

that dreaded enemy called CRS...

damn CRS. i still havent forgiven it for having my preferred schedule unlisted.... and here it goes again with another blow...

they did not submit my form 5a in my college....

so i was asked by my advisers to secure another copy of my form 5a in the crs office in diliman computer center.....

and i asked them disappointingly, "pano yan pipila pa ko ulit ng mahaba?"

to my relief, they replied... "di na.. diretcho ka na sa akin"

i told myself, "buti naman"

and so i went to CRS office in Diliman Computer Center... only to find out that no one is there except one volunteer who doesnt know anything about her job....

i waited... patiently .... or anxiously.....

i feel she is getting impatient with the irritating way i look at her.... im really pissed at that time.....

she called anyone she could... but none replied.....

until she said...."balik ka na lang mamyang 11"

i left without saying a word.

grabe... how could no one be around in this time of enrollment.... its 11 oclock already.... so are they assuming that crs is so perfect that nobody, even a single person, would complain?

and so here i am.... in a computer rental station... in the diliman learning center.... really, really pissed.

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yah. i decided to return....

this lair is really an essential tool.

this lair is really a place for total freedom.




and so i feel good now.

my writing spirit returns.