Google a photo of the Sagrada Familia and take a good look at that cathedral. Majestic, is it not? The pointy, tall, brown building combines Gothic and curvilinear Art Nouveau forms and has three grand facades: the Nativity, the Passion, and the Glory. (Wow, my Wikipedia research just made me come across as pretentious, did it not?) But if there is one word you could use to describe architect Antoni Gaudi’s magnum opus it would be “unfinished.” Gaudi never lived to see his building completed because on June 7, 1926 he was run over by a bus. 

 In Gaudi’s defense, he didn’t give up on his dream. Usually in life it is not a speeding bus that keeps us from building our Sagrada Familia. Most of the time we find out that it is too difficult, too complicated, or too scary. 

 For instance, we build relationships like we build structures – with mutual trust and liking as the stable foundation and the details of your personality as the minute details (pun intended) and contours. During the early stages of the relationship (whether platonic or romantic) we spend our time and energy knowing everything we can about the other person – from their quirks to their likes and dislikes to their life story. But when the relationship disintegrates you end up having no use of the knowledge. You then end up with something abandoned and, well, unfinished.

 And relationships are not the only things we build and end up leaving unfinished. There are promises we make to ourselves – perhaps a life dream we spend our whole life working for to achieve, like becoming a best-selling author or a big time entrepreneur or a successful doctor – but they remain unfulfilled because we refuse to take the risks. We give in to the overwhelming thoughts that achieving our goal is too risky, too expensive, or too laborious. We do not even know where to begin or how to begin. So we procrastinate because the longer we delay fulfilling a dream the longer it can remain a dream and not something we screwed up at. It is as if we give up before we even begin.

I will admit that there times when I feel like I am unconsciously abandoning the completion of my own Sagrada Familia – that I am not working hard enough or taking the necessary risks in order to fulfill the promises I make for myself and instead I settle for what does not give me euphoria. For years I have told myself that by the time I finish college I will publish a book. Yet, here I am – more than a full year after graduating from college but no book close to publishing. Some nights I feel tempted to throw that dream into a box labeled Scratch and Dent Dreams, seal that box, keep it away, and trade happiness for practicality. Yet every time I look at the title page of “Of Love and Other Lemons”, hope is rekindled through the words written by the author Katrina Stuart Santiago for me: “To Pryce, who should write her own book! And let me read it! Cheers, Katrina” These words then make me think twice about leaving things unfinished. 

 For it is when we stop working for something that we realize that the hardest part of ending is starting again. So we reluctantly force ourselves to not want it anymore by playing things safe. But even so, it will always be there and until we take the first of many steps towards finishing it, the thing will always be—

“Maybe he’s still getting over his last relationship that’s why he won’t completely open up to me and let me in his life.”

“Maybe he’s afraid of being in a committed relationship because he’s never been in one.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to ruin our friendship because it’s still in the developing stages and he wants us to get to know each other a little more.”

“Maybe he’s intimidated by me.”

“Maybe he just lost my number that’s why he won’t call or text me.”

“Maybe he’s just the ‘torpe’ type so that’s why he won’t make a move.”

Aren’t you tired of hearing or saying these things to yourself or to your friends? Why do we women even say these things to one another? Are we too scared? Or do we find it too difficult to say the simple truth it’s staring at us in the face: He’s just NOT that in you.

You’ve probably heard those words as a title of a movie starring about a dozen of Hollywood who’s who or maybe you’ve read the “no excuses truth to understanding guys” book by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo, but there’s truth in the words “he’s just not that into you”. The reason why he won’t ask you out, why he won’t call or text or PM you back, why he won’t date you exclusively, why he won’t take time out of his busy schedule to let you know that he misses you or that he wants to spend quality time with you, why he won’t take your relationship to the next level is because – believe it or not - he doesn’t really like you that much (or at all).

That may seem harsh, but the sooner we accept that truth, we become closer to empowering ourselves, thus keeping ourselves from wasting our time with the wrong people. We just need to realize another truth: Don’t waste the pretty. 

You need to stop making excuses for him – stop overanalyzing or rationalizing his words and actions that translate to “I just don’t like you that way.” Remember when you were a little girl how boys would tease you and make you cry? Grownups would tell us that that is just boys’ way of dealing with their crush on us. At an early age we are programmed to believe that if they treat us like crap, then they must like us. So when we venture in the “real world” of dating, we go for the guys who don’t want us – the guys who act like jerks and act like they don’t care. (Note: they’re not just acting like they don’t care about you because they genuinely don’t care about you. Stop thinking it’s an act.) Guys would rather get hit by an 18-wheeler truck than look you in the eyes and tell you that they don’t like you the way you do about them. So don’t waste the pretty on those kinds of guys.

Because if a guy genuinely likes you and wants to be with you, he will do whatever it takes to woo you. He will risk his dignity, self-esteem, and maybe even your friendship because that is how much in like he is with you. Of course, that’s not to say that a woman should wait around for him to make the move. She’s allowed to put herself out there and express herself – that’s her risk to take. So if you’re reading this and thinking about making the move, take that chance. Just don’t waste the pretty if things don’t turn out the way you hoped they would. One’s failure to appreciate your worth is no reason to depreciate that worth which will be embraced by another.

And if he tells you he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship between the two of you, he’s most likely just telling you subtly that he doesn’t want to be anything more than that. Nobody minds risking a friendship if it means leading to something that will bring more than happiness because if we’re really into someone, we can’t help it – we’ll go out of our way to get to the next level. So don’t waste the pretty on someone who politely rejects you by telling you they don’t want to ruin the friendship. Rejection is still rejection, no matter how polite or hard hitting.

If he has disappeared on you – if he can’t take time out of his “busy” schedule to spend some quality time with you or if he won’t stay up late at night communicating with you (whether via Skype, Facebook, text message, or phone call) – don’t do the pitiful thing by bombarding him with text messages or e-mails. Don’t stare at your Facebook chat box waiting for him to get online. Don’t start a staring contest with your phone or telepathically willing it to ring, hoping that it’s him on the other line. Don’t believe him when he says he’s too busy or any derivative of the excuse. Nobody is TOO busy for somebody they care about—whether it comes to a romantic partner, a friend, or a family member. If we love someone, our “busy” lives never get in the way. So don’t waste the pretty on someone who doesn’t have time for you. You are good enough to be remembered. It’s like what Madonna said: “Don’t go for second best, baby… Make him express how he feels and maybe then you’ll know your love is real.”

Don’t waste the pretty because it’s a matter of getting your priorities right. Your studies or career won’t wake up in the morning will not wake up one day and tell you it doesn’t love you anymore or that it never loved you at all. The sooner you realize that you can never be defined by your love life, the less time you waste with the wrong ones and the closer you become to the real thing.

After all, there is more to life than love. So don’t waste the pretty. 

Sometimes in life you find yourself in a moment that scares you to death. In that moment you find yourself afraid that you might (literally) fall and get hurt. Your heart is beating out of your chest, you are breathing heavily, and everything else in your vision is a blur. But through all the fear, you take the plunge anyway. Then as you fly across the air at an exhilarating speed, you spread your arms, scream at the awesomeness of the unique experience, and enjoy the flight. What scared you at first turned out to be an unbelievable adrenaline rush which, as crazy as it may be, you want to do all over again.

Literally, I am describing my recent zip line experience at a nearby resort. Metaphorically, I am using the (timely) experience to describe how it taught me about living a legendary life: face what would be a scary experience with open arms. Learn to let go, stop trying to be in so much control, take in all the beauty and wonder, and just enjoy the journey. Whether or not you get what you hope for, you still win from trying.

Because sometimes the beauty is in the attempt. Getting the nerve to try something that scares you shuts up the voice in your head that goes over the “ifs”, “buts”, and “maybes”. Going with the gut instinct to try also lets you know where you are with something (or someone). How does that song by P!nk go again? “Where there is desire, there is going to be a flame / Where there is a flame someone’s bound to get burned / But just because it burns doesn’t mean you’re gonna die / You gotta get up and try…” The first step to getting anywhere is trying.

Now, I am not the sportiest of girls. I even think I am too nerdy for that (inside joke intended). However, it is rewarding when a friend will help you get out of your comfort zone by inviting you to unwind by playing a couple of sports. As a result I found myself doing some things I do not often do and because of that I even learned from the experience.

For instance, l learned about the art of precision and timing from playing bowling. It turns out you cannot just keep making your moves without thinking them over and expecting that you will score or win. What you need to do is pick the right spot, envision the outcome, take a deep breath, and finally let go. It is a lot like billiards, another sport which taught me about the importance of timing, precision, and analysis. Before making a move, you need to calculate your actions and see if your hit will lead you to winning. You have to think about the outcome first because you cannot just go on an impulse or keep doing random things and think you will get it right. But sometimes with a little guide and practice, you just might get it right. Cliché and overrated as it may be, it helps to be patient and to not rush things. 

So if things do not turn out the way you thought they would, do know that there is some consolation in attempting to do something that scared you – in the long run you will remember it as something that made you learn.

WHAT they don’t tell us about courtship is that a girl has as much right as a guy to tell someone how she feels about him.

Pop culture, however, has portrayed the female hopeless romantic as exactly just that: hopeless. The movies, the books… they tell us girls to wait for him to make a move. They implore us to wait for that grand gesture—the holding up of a boombox outside the bedroom window, the stealing of the blue French horn—or that grand epiphany where he comes to his senses and delivers a grand speech that goes something like “It’s you… the one I want standing next to me when all of my dreams come true”. They tell us that if he has the audacity to admit to us that they’re hopelessly in love with us, then we should give in to him. (Oh, he IS charming, after all.) Hence they paint to us the portrait of the perfect man: ballsy, romantic, and totally worth falling for because he took the leap of faith. And if he turns out to be a douchebag then that must be our fault then for falling head over heels for his charm and there goes the generalization that all men are arseholes. 

But what they don’t tell us is that guys – even the best ones – also fear the same things that girls fear, like rejection. They also have their own feeling of inadequacy that makes them think “What if I’m not good enough for her?” They also wait for signs and signals because, really, why would you put yourself out there for someone who doesn’t even show the slightest hint of actually being in like with you? They also don’t want to assume anything from what you say or do so they go on “torpe” mode. 

If that’s the case then are we girls going to wait until he comes to his senses? Or we going to take our chances, put our egos aside, and look him in the eyes and say “I don’t know about you, but I think you and I make sense. I like you and that’s that. We make great friends, but what if we can become more than that?” 

Society may be ready to misconstrue our bravery as stalkerish, pitiable, and desperate. However, I beg to differ. It’s better to crash and burn than not ignite and see if there’d be flames. So while the rule may be “wait for him to make a move or wait for him to tell you he’s into you”, the thing that they don’t tell us about rules is that – like so many other rules – there are times to follow them and times to not. 

And another thing they don’t tell us about courtship is that it’s utter BS to say something like “Gusto kong sabihin sa kanya yung feelings ko. Kaso nahihiya ako kasi baka masayang naman ang friendship namin. Tsaka, ako yung babae. Ano dapat kong gawin? Maghihintay ba ako? Dapat ba ako mag-drop ng hints na gusto ko siya? O mag-move on nalang?” To say that you’re the girl and that you should be the one to wait for him to make the move is BS. I don’t know about you, but there should be a rule that says “You like ‘em? Tell ‘em. They don’t like you back? Move on.” 

As for any worries that you’ll annihilate your friendship because you have I-like-you-more-than-as-a-friend feelings for that person, that is the biggest BS in the game of love. Pop culture is the only standing in your way because it has portrayed you as someone who comes on too strong. Though love is not a game or something like that, what they don’t tell us is that it is a gamble of sorts where you put a lot of things on the line: dignity, self-esteem, and most of all friendship. You risk all that in exchange for the sought after “true love”. 

So while there are a lot things they don’t tell us about courtship, what they do tell us about chances is that when you take them, they’re often worth taking.

In an attempt to attract some GV (Good Vibes) that will pull me out of what I call Young Adult Existential Conundrum, I decided to watch the GLEE episode “On My Way” for the nth time. Perhaps the show’s best episode, it tackles the issue of bullying and teen suicide in a poignant manner that hopefully inspires audiences to value life their more, not romanticize the idea of suicide.

What starts out as just another episode where the Glee kids prepare themselves for another competition heads for the dramatic and disturbing when, five minutes into the episode, closeted gay teen David Karofsky – who relentlessly bullied his classmate Kurt Hummel for being gay – resorts to ending his life. This he does after his classmates in his new school “out” him by writing a demeaning word on his gym locker and posting mean messages on his Facebook wall.

His suicide attempt shakes the rest of the characters. Teachers are in disbelief and reflect upon themselves if they could’ve done something (“It wasn’t our job to know.” “Then whose was it?”). They even talk about how the rise of social networking sites has given haters an avenue where they can sing their hatred anonymously.

In one scene, Glee club coach Will Schuester gathered his Glee kids to let them witness a first time experience for one of their members: eating peanut butter. It may have seemed trivial, but Will’s point is that their peer just had a brand new experience (as simple as it may be as tasting peanut butter). “You guys are young,” he told them. “I want you to promise me that no matter how depressed you get - no matter how hopeless or alone you feel - you’ll try to imagine all the amazing experiences you have ahead of you.” He went on say that “Everyone has something that might take them to their edge” so everyone in the room took turns coming up with something each of them is looking forward to.

“Someday I want to earn enough money to buy my folks their own home so they won’t ever have to go through losing their home again.”

“I’m sort of embarrassed to admit it, but I really do wanna graduate high school.”

“I’m looking forward to graduating from Yale, top of my class.”

“I am looking forward to marriage equality in all 50 states.”

“I’m looking forward to the first time I dance at Carnegie Hall.”

“I’m looking forward to being friends with you for the rest of my life.”

Later on a compassionate Kurt goes to the hospital to visit the person who relentlessly bullied him. He helped him get through his situation by telling him to be strong and to love and accept himself. He helps Dave by painting him a beautiful picture of the future: “Imagine what life could be like in ten years. “You’re sitting in a fantastic office. You’re a big sports agent living in the city of your dreams because you left Lima and never looked back. Your handsome partner comes to visit you in your office and brings along your son. You’re taking the rest of the day off work because you’re taking your son to his first football game. You lean over to your partner and you say…” Dave tearfully finishes the thought by saying “I’m so happy right now.” In that moment you see something in Dave’s tear-stained face: genuine hope. He realizes that, yes, things do get better.

Since watching that episode for the first time, I have used the ideas of “I’m looking forward to…” and “imagining what life could be like years from now” when I feel like my life’s going nowhere or as if my situation leaves me with the impression that none of my ambitions are ever going to be realized.

And I’d be damned if I turn into one of those folks who give up on their dreams too easily. Some people, when they’re all grown up and go through a lot of disillusionment and disappointment, hock in their hearts in a crate of scratch and dent dreams because cynicism and defeat have gotten the best of them. They become cynical and defeated when they can’t buy this or that for themselves or when they can’t climb the social class ladder. They forget that happiness can be as simple as good times with your friends, coming home to a loving family, and achieving the things you told yourself you could. So despite how unfair life can feel, I have that faith that I am on my way to where I am meant to be.

ON THE surface, “Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist” may seem like just another feel-good Young Adult love story written by David Levithan and Rachel Cohn (or a movie starring Michael Cera and Kat Dennings). Simply put: the book is sweet in its boy-meets-girl plot, but I find it forgettable. Chances are it won’t stand the test of time as one of the best love stories. It’s the literary equivalent of watching a Hollywood romcom: you say your “awws” and root for Boy and Girl to get together (and trust me, they do), but when it’s over so is your interest.

The story’s basic, really, and part of the market-tested formula that makes up the typical young adult romantic story but with a few tweaks. Boy meets Girl. Boy says to Girl: “I know this is going to sound strange, but would you mind being my girlfriend for the next five minutes?” and in answer Girl puts her hand around Boy’s neck and pulls his face down to hers, leading to an electrifying first kiss. Boy and Girl find out they’re musical soul mates and soul mates in general, but they can’t embark on their newfound love because each of them is still held back by unresolved issues with exes. Eventually they come to their senses and move on from the past and on to each other (but not without a few plot road bumps here and there). Then they end up happily ever after. All this—the meeting and the falling in love—happen in one crazy New York night, proving that New York City really is the City that Never Sleeps. 

I first came off from reading “Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist” feeling cynical about the idea of “love at first sight” and mad, passionate young love that the novel portrayed. At the time when I read the book my inner hopeless romantic was becoming exactly just that: hopeless. So for me to read two teens that have a crazy, adventurous night just did not speak to me. 

But if I were to step away from that cynical side and look at the book from a broader perspective, I would see that Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist lives up to the oft given advice when it comes to love: it happens at the most unexpected of times with the most unexpected person. 

Sometimes you meet someone and you get this unshakable feeling that life finally feels right—as if everything in the past has led you to the best and most unexpected part of your life. You could be someone who does not consider himself or herself the kind of person who would admit lightly to being in love. You meet somebody and suddenly they have a hold on your heart—and you cannot even break it even if you wanted to. The feeling will overwhelm you. It will drive you crazy, confuse you, and it will also make you happy. It will be the most humbling experience you will go through. Your breath will be taken away, but your heart will beat faster than it ever has before. 

This book takes you to that experience—of falling in love and taking leaps of faith. It is filled with high energy, clever narrative here and there, with insights on love. And references to music help get the point across. One of my favorite passages in the book goes: “You know the reason The Beatles made it so big? ‘I Wanna Hold Your Hand.’ First single. F*cking brilliant. Perhaps the most f*cking brilliant song ever written. Because they nailed it. That’s what everyone wants. Not 24-7 hot wet sex. Not a marriage that lasts a hundred years. Not a Prosche or… a million-dollar crib. No. They wanna hold your hand. They have such a feeling that they can’t hide. Every successful love song of the past fifty years can be traced back to ‘I Wanna Hold Your Hand.’ And every successful love story has those unbearable and unbearably exciting moments of hand-holding.” 

Is this the kind of book you’ll read and reread like an infinite playlist? Not really. But it’s a book still worth jumping into for a vicarious experience of a crazy night in Manhattan. Feel the music, feel the love. Maybe somewhere in the story you’ll feel infinite.* 

IF YOU had asked me more than a year ago if I would ever consider a career teaching, I would have snorted in derision and told you “Not in a million years.” I would often react this way back when I was an English undergrad. Our instructors have conditioned us into thinking that most, if not all, of us were likely to end up as teachers. So when they would say something like “So when you become teachers one day…” I would utter my breath “IF we become teachers one day.”

 Do not get me wrong. I do not have anything against the noble profession of teaching, but before graduating from college I was adamant on becoming a literary writer. I was an overambitious sixteen year old who thought she could be the next J.K. Rowling. In hindsight, that dream now sometimes feels like just a dream - some fantasy I can only visit in my dizziest day dream but far from turning into a reality. I’ve had that dream since I was 16 years old, but for the past five years I have not written a fictional piece (may it be a short story, novelette, or novel) that I can proudly claim as something I have written. Whenever there’s an open mic poetry reading or poetry slam at Mt. Cloud Bookshop here in Baguio, I end up not having written a poem worth performing in the public. Maybe I don’t have enough drive and confidence to push myself to join the ranks of the country’s literary greats.

 But I do love literature. Granted, if you were to quiz me right now about who’s who and what’s what in literature, I would end up with mental block. But you can count me getting fired up on being part of an intellectual orgy: throw me in a room full of bibliophiles and (though I may at first sit there like a wallflower) I’ll take in all that’s happening there.

 Hence another dream of mine was born: become a literature teacher. This time I think this dream is more attainable. In the past year I twice had those big moments that made me go “Yeah, I can do this” when it came to teaching. Both of those times was when I was invited to give talks/tips/handle a workshop session on news/features writing. It still feels a bit crazy to me considering I have only had such a short time to consider as “experience” in order to consider myself a credible enough lecturer on journalism. But I digress.

 Now I am, in a way, swallowing my own words by forging a path towards a career in teaching. I don’t face it with apprehension, a what-if-I-suck-at-it-and-ruin-my-students’-lives dread. Quite the opposite, actually.

 Teaching is a great power and responsibility. You have the power to influence and shape young minds, but it’s your responsibility to inspire them into becoming the best version of them.

And I look forward to the thrills and challenges that come with fulfilling my dream of becoming a literature teacher - from taking my Masters Degree, to becoming a rookie teacher, to facing diverse sets of students, to inspiring them to love stories, to eventually seeing them go on their own way.

I may not see myself penning the next best Filipino novel anytime soon, but I do see myself getting young ones motivated to pick up books and watching them fall head over heels for the wonderful worlds those books lead them to. I see myself learning from the minds I encounter—from their stories and struggles, their hopes and dreams.

May the odds be ever in my favor.*

“Knock-knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Manix.”

“Manix who?”

 “It’s all about the Manix, Manix, Manix…”

Okay, let’s put a halt to the corny joke I ripped off from the Lambakan 2013 and get on with the article.

Manuel Luis “Manix” Abrera is the closest thing to a rock star in our country’s contemporary literary scene. After all, he does have a thing for saying “asteeg”, “hardcore”, and “rakenrol” in his “Kikomachine Komix”.

Proof of why he’s a literary rock star: when he was introduced for his talk on cartooning during the Lambakan 2013 (the annual journalism and cultural gathering organized by White & Blue, the official publication of Saint Louis University) he was met with loud cheers and whoots of excitement from the participants who were mostly high school and college campus journalists. Later during the Lambakan Cultural Night he by the same admirers flocked him and wanted to have his autograph or have their picture taken with them. They would have anything and everything signed—comics, IDs, guitars, shirts, random pieces of paper—just so they get to come home from that night with a piece of Manix. The inner fan girl in me even boldly asked him “Pwedeng pa-hug?” to which he said yes.

That level of admiration is usually given to movie and TV stars, not literary artists. This must make Manix the rare exception—the alpha and the omega of “asteeg” Pinoy humor.

Manix began making comics at the age of four. He says that he was mainly influenced by his old man Jess Abrera, chief cartoonist and comics editor for Philippine Daily Inquirer (yes, he drew that famous carabao) and creator of “Pinoy Nga!” and A. Lipin komiks. Manix once revealed in a TV interview that his father is one of his personal idols and that he would often imitate his father’s drawing. However, his father would tell him, “Wag mo akong gayahin. Gawa ka ng sarili mong style.” He thus learned not to be a first class imitation.

He graduated from the University of the Philippines Diliman in 2003 with a Bachelor in Fine Arts major in Visual Communication. During his time as an undergrad, he was the graphics editor for the Philippine Collegian (UP Diliman’s official publication). Now he’s taking up his Master in Fine Arts in the same institution.

He modestly calls his shot to fame as “chamba”, revealing that he seriously pursued his career in making comic books after he resigned from his first and only job at an NGO. He went to bookstores, copied e-mail addresses of publishers from books he browsed, and sent his works. This technique paid off for it led him to a meeting with Nida Ramirez of Visprint.

In 2005, the first volume of his Kikomachine Komix, “Mga Tagpong Ewan at kung ano-anong Kababalaghan”, was published. Since then it has been followed by “Mga Tagpong Tila Nagpapaka-weird, Kunyari Pa-deep, Sarap Sapakin”, “Die! Die, Evil! Die”, “Oh Kaligayahang Walang Hangan”, “Alab ng Puso, sa Dibdib Mo’y Buhay”, “Venn Man at iba pang Kalupitan ng Kapalaran”, “Sorrowful Sorrowful Mysteries”, and “Golden Ratio.” Soon, the ninth volume of the series will be published: “Ilayo Mo Kami sa Apoy ng Impyerno!”

When he’s not making comics for Inquirer, he publishes his web comic News Hardcore, which debuted on GMANetwork.com on September 2010 and follows the (mis)adventures of a rookie journalist “in the wild, wild world of Philippine media.”

Though Manix may not have been the most animated and entertaining speaker during the Lambakan, his art spoke for him. His humor, wit, and creativity permeate in his art and because of this he still held the entire room’s attention. Every one of us in that room hung on to his every word and laughed out loud at every comic strip he included in his presentation.

He told us to draw inspiration from personal experience and maybe exaggerate them for a little humor. For example, Manix was once conducting a tutorial session on drawing where two young couples were getting too cozy: a girl was sitting on her boyfriend’s lap while Manix was teaching them how to draw. He took that experience and made a comic strip that goes like this:

Frame one: the teacher is in the middle of her discussion. “… And so the infinite shall… Lintik. Hoy. Magkakandungan nanaman kayo sa klaseng ‘to. Ano ba tingin niyo dito sa classroom ha? Kabaret? Dysume!”

Second frame: the teacher says “E kung ako ‘me kakandungan sa harap n’yo habang nagtuturo ha? Gusto n’yo ha? Enriquez! Punta ka dito!” A bewildered student says “Po? Ma’am?” The seething teacher says “Punta ka dito sabe!”

Third frame: the teacher is sitting on the lap of her student, saying “O! Ayan ha! Gusto niyo ganyan ha! Um! Um! O, lambingin mo ako, o!” And the student, embarrassed to the max, says “Mam, magda-drop na po ako, mam.”

The shy and soft-spoken komikero, who would often say “next slide po” to the young secretariat handling the power point, says that one could also draw humorous inspiration from experiences that would often be infuriating. More importantly, he says, be observant of your surroundings. Inspiration for any creative work can come from keen observation.

One of his pieces of advice is to look into the Pinoy culture. “Pag kinilala niyo yung culture natin, sobrang yaman. Sobrang sarap gamitin sa kwento.”

Out of all the advice he gave to the young journalists, his biggest advice would be to maintain a sense of originality. “Pag nagiisip ka ng kwento, isipin mo lagi kung paano mo iibahin yung pagkwento mo. Ang style diyan: isipin mo lagi ibahin mo yung perspective mo, yung point of view mo. Once na nasanay ka na iniiba mo yung tira mo, doon ka makikilala kasi boses mo talaga yung lumalabas. Tapos eto yung kapag binasa nung reader na ‘Sh*t. Sobrang astig ‘to. Iba yung pinapakita niya. Iba yung kwento niya.’”

So what makes Manix Abrera the “rock star” of the Pinoy contemporary comic book industry? For one thing, his works are relevant. They’re a satirical commentary on the Pinoy life—on our culture, on our lives as college students and life after, on our political scene, and on the mundane things from our everyday lives.

And young adults can’t get enough of the comics. A friend of mine whom I introduced to the world of Kikomachine said “Nakaka-relate kasi” when I asked him why he likes the comics. “It’s a portal of escape,” he added. Another friend told me she liked the political satire of the first book. Then another fan, who’s still getting himself used to the Filipino language and culture, said that the comics help him appreciate Filipino art. While a UP Baguio student found that the comics hit close to home. “Yung orientation, UP-ing UP,” she said. “Yung mga sitwasyon pati pananalita at porma.”

So we tip our hats off to Manix, for because of his work we not only laugh and find ourselves entertained, but we also had a sense of patriotism through his work. He allows us to appreciate the humor that we Pinoys have. His “rock star” status is one that he deserves. Because of him, we pick up books and read. And in our technology-idolizing era, the ability to influence someone to read a book instead of Facebook is something to be lauded for.

Though I may have been in the journalism world for almost a year now, I still find it helpful to grab opportunities that allow me to become better at it and learn more about the trade. Whether it’s learning more tricks of the trade when it comes to improving writing or instilling in my mind the importance of adhering to ethics, I acknowledge that there is so much more for me to learn about. Though journalism may only be my second love next to literature, it doesn’t mean that I can’t learn my way through it while I’m in its world.

Last March 25 and 26 I was at the Lambakan ’13, the annual journalism and cultural gathering where campus journalists from Northern and Central Luzon gather to listen to and learn from experts in the field of journalism. Every year the event is organized by the staff of White & Blue, the official publication of Saint Louis University. It’s a gathering for budding journalists, made possible by budding journalists.

Though I may no longer be a campus journalists (and some part of me isn’t quite confident in considering myself a legit journalist), I took the opportunity to be a participant in the journalism seminar. That move may just be one of the best choices I made this year because I had the rare opportunity to listen journalism experts and two big names in the contemporary literary scene of the Philippines.

The lecture series kicked off with Philippine Daily Inquirer Northern Luzon Bureau Desk Editor Robert Jaworski Abaño, who discussed news writing in his talk “Beyond the Inverted Pyramid: Telling the stories the Inquirer way”. He told us young journalists to look for the big picture, to focus on the impact of the stories we write, to look for the most telling details, and to “write to enrich ourselves as reporters of the human condition”.

Next was one of the two speakers I was most looking forward to meeting: University of Santo Tomas professor, author, and Don Carlos Palanca Memorial Awardee Eros S. Atalia, who gave a talk on creative writing/feature writing entitled “D Kaartehan in U: Sining ng maaertang art churvah”. Hilarious, entertaining, yet informative, Eros Atalia left us with this hard-hitting challenge: “Isulat ang mga hindi kayang isulat ng iyong panahon at isulat ang mga bagay na ayaw isulat ng iyong panahon, dahil baka iyon ang tinig ng iyong panahon.” If he wants us to be the chronicler of our time, then that’s exactly what we young writers shall strive to be.

Atalia was followed by fellow UST professor Joselito Delos Reyes, who talked about Sports writing. “The best way to learn sports writing is to do sports writing,” he said. “No amount of classroom lecture and workshop can equate the actual sports writing for a publication especially if it’s your journalism career or name that’s on the line.”

Freelance photo/videojournalist Luis Liwanag talked about photojournalism. He discussed technical aspects, the National Press Photographers Association’s code of ethics, and how cellphone cameras are revolutionizing photojournalism. Liwanag’s works have been published in The New York Times, International Herald Tribune, Time Magazine, Newsweek, Financial Times, and various international and local publications. 

On the second day, three members of the Baguio journalism circle discussed media ethics. Dhobie de Guzman, news anchor for ABS-CBN Northern Luzon, spoke about media ethics in TV, specifically the code of ethics for ABS-CBN. “Good journalists don’t need to be reminded of ethics,” de Guzman told the participants.

SunStar Baguio Editor-in-chief May Anne Cacdac discussed print media ethics, emphasizing that her discussion is based on the code of ethics adhered to by the staff of SunStar Baguio. She said that publications follow their own set of code of ethics, so ethics cannot be generalized. Nonetheless, journalists should always adhere to ethics.

Then Jesse Maguiya of BomboRadyo Baguio rounded up the talk on ethics by discussing media ethics for radio.

The afternoon session kicked off with SLU professor Roman Bulatao and Associate Dean for Men of the Students Affairs Office Andrew Macalma. Each gave a talk on youth empowerment and leadership, respectively.

And perhaps the most-awaited among the invited speakers, writer and artist of the “Kikomachine” comic strips/books, Manix Abrera gave tips on cartooning. He said that among the things one must do in order to be a good cartoonist, one must be observant and constantly practice drawing.

 The seminar ended with Sam Bautista, then editor-in-chief of SunStar Baguio, who talked about editorial writing.

 Among those who participated in the event are campus journalists from Tarlac State University, Tabuk City National High School, Kalinga National High School, Irisan National High School, St. Mary’s Unversity in Nueva Vizcaya, San Sebastian College, College of Immaculate Concepcion, and St. Louis University.

 During the event’s cultural night, I asked Manix Abrera what he thinks is the importance of this kind of events. He told me “Importante yung mga ganito para ma-inspire kahit papaano ng mga ibang parang natatakot pang bag-boom. Kasi ako mismo na-inspire ako sa mga ganito dati nung high school [at] college… kahit sobrang boring yung iba, sobrang na-inspire ako na ‘oo nga, pwede kong gawin.’ Parang ‘subukan ko nga.’”

And I agree. Events like these really are inspiring to attend. It instills you the importance of hard work, determination, and the humility to acknowledge that you have so much to learn. I also had the chance to sit next to Eros Atalia during the cultural night dinner and asked him any and every question that came to my mind regarding writing and getting published. It was hard not to gush, but it really was awe-inspiring. When I look back ten years from now, I know I’m going to be thankful for the chance to be a part of something like Lambakan. Because I know, it helped me become a better writer.

It’s graduation season for most college students. Across the country there are thousands of young adults turning tassels and flashing big smiles as they hold rolled up papers which serve as stage diplomas. They have their Kodak moments (Facebook moments? Instagram moments? Haven’t we updated that phrase already?) with their proud parents who are crying tears of joy. Graduation day is bliss, for sure.

But you wake up from that bliss and find yourself in unfamiliar territory. Hello, real world!

Ah, the real world. It’s a world where (especially here in the Philippines) you’re mostly measured by your academic success. As students we’ve been given the impression that if we get good grades and finish our degrees then we have good chances of getting ourselves employed. Our chances even go higher if we graduate with honors or if our transcript shines with the 90+ or 1.50+ grades. Experts would say that those are the things that make us attractive to employers. College is boot camp and the real world is the battlefield.

Before my graduation last year, I would often ask myself: Do grades really matter when I get out there? And if they do, just by how much? I stare at my official transcript of records and can’t help but wince a little as I see my grades in my major subjects: 80 for Literary Criticism, 81 for The Drama, 83 for Mythology and Short Stories, and 81 for Shakespeare (Comedies). Is this really the kind of grade for someone who reads voraciously? Then the inner demon in me—the inner brutal critic—goes on to say: “How do you expect grades like those to make you qualified for the Graduate program you’re dreaming of becoming a part of? How will those grades make you a credible literature teacher?”

Ours is a society that puts too much value on individuals’ academic achievements. A society that implants in your mind that you are on the fast track to success and wealth if you have a college degree—even more if you are a holder of a Masters degree. We’re quick to be proud when our names have letters like “A-T-T-Y” or “PhD” or “MD” attached to it. Let’s admit it: we’re title-conscious. It’s that same pride that makes us easily offended when somebody forgets to address us as “Doctor” or “Engineer”—as if those achievements make us any different from others.  

Then again, in the context of third world Philippines, education is our tool in climbing out of mediocrity, especially from poverty for the majority of our nation’s population. Parents dream for their children to become doctors, nurses, lawyers, engineers, or whatever big shot job that rolls in a lot of money. You can’t really blame parents if they would rather have their children become doctors than artists because as beautiful as art can be, you can’t really have a full stomach with art, can’t you? Art won’t be enough to put a roof over your head or pay for your pension. As beautiful as “follow your dreams” can be, sometimes you have to wake up and accept the ugly truth the world has to offer you. How can you have a well-fed brain when you can’t even have a well-fed stomach? Climbing out of poverty by your own efforts is indeed something on which to pride yourself, but poverty is only romanticized by fools, J.K. Rowling reminds us.

But allow me to hand you a dose of optimism by busting that myth that success is limited to your academic success. As a matter of fact, that myth has long been busted. Those who ever made anything with their lives aren’t only those who graduated on time or those who graduated as suma cum laude or magna cum laude or those who have so many degrees (undergrad or post grad) that they may as well join the characters in The Big Bang Theory.

This is not to say, of course, that you shouldn’t bother pursuing your academic ambitions of earning this or that degree. This is about instilling the idea that success comes from following one’s own bliss. For you see, the world is ready to give us a set of criteria for what constitutes success, but ultimately we decide for ourselves when and how we consider ourselves successful. If you asked me, Bob Dylan had the answer: “A man is a success if he gets up in the morning and goes to bed at night and in between does what he wants to do.”

“The public toilet—along with sidewalks, other public spaces and soap operas—is a metaphor for the state of society… Show me a filthy public restroom and I’ll show you a society where discipline and order have broken down.”

So goes one of many of Lourd de Veyra’s satirical statements in the collection of essays “The Best of This is a Crazy Planets” from his Spot.ph blog. In the 30 essays compiled in his book, you’ll find yourself enlightened by the Word of the Lourd (which is also the title of his short television segment where he delivers his commentary on social and political issues in his witty, deadpan ways) from the award-winning socio-cultural/political pundit that is Lourd de Veyra.

And for the faint of heart and the satire-challenged, I suppose you are going to have a difficult time appreciating Lourd’s words. He hits the bull’s eye of discomfort and ugly truth in his commentaries about fame and the Pacquiaos, hipster expressions that must never again see the light of day, the senate and the 2009 Hayden Kho/Katrina Halili sex scandal, the dwindling world of the Filipino action film, our society’s baffling lack of hygiene, the incomprehensible hell taxi and bus drivers of Manila bring to this world, the spotlight-hogging of the attention whore known as the President’s youngest sister, masculinity, and even jejemons.  

Spot.ph Editor-in-Chief Myrza Sison perfectly captures Lourd de Veyra’s writing in her foreword: “His grasp of the political situation and current events is so good he can delivers his opinions in a funny way that just lends to what most news in the Philippines is—ridiculous.” She further writes: “he makes spot-on pronouncements about the status quo in self-effacing, man-on-the-street, “nagtatanong lang po” way, never offensive (unless it’s his intention), frequently hilarious, always endearing.”

For example, he describes Kris Aquino as someone “for whom no barrier exists between the public’s right to know and her private life” (as the mainstream media seems to remind us these past few days) and someone whose “cerebral cortex [is] directly connected to her mouth”. And when lamenting about irresponsible drivers of public vehicles, Lourd writes: “I think we should all start regarding driving as a responsibility, not an inalienable right.”

In this image-saturated world, Lourd de Veyra goes for the jugular and pokes fun at what we have held all high and mighty: celebrities and image. He concocts a mixture of wit, frankness, and a devil-may-care attitude that may not always be easy for you to swallow. But when you do, it’s smooth on your throat and you find yourself wanting more.  

The first rule is that you do not talk about it. The second rule is that you do not talk about it. But I am going to break those two rules because, come on… how can you not talk about Fight Club?

 “Fight Club” is a 1999 dark comedy film starring Edward Norton, Brad Pitt, and Helena Bonham Carter. The movie centers on and is narrated by Edward Norton’s character who, if you pay close attention, never mentions his name. Neither is he ever named by the other characters. He suffers from severe insomnia so he takes up his doctor’s advice and goes to support groups where he poses as a sufferer of diseases like testicular cancer or tuberculosis. In those support groups he is free to cry and let his emotions go. As a result, he sleeps better than a baby.

However, he relapses to insomnia when he meets the outlandish Marla Singer (Helena Bonham Carter) in his testicular cancer group… and his tuberculosis support group and every other support group he shows up to. 

Marla Singer. She’s not even really sick. She’s not really dying—not in the same sense the other members of support group are dying with their parasites and cancer. So, knowing that Marla’s a fake, the narrator could not purge himself of his tears knowing that someone else in the group is a fake.

            Then one night he meets Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt), a soap bar salesman who goes by his own rules and radical convictions, on a plane ride and they instantly click. The narrator comes home to find out that his luggage has been confiscated (it was said that his luggage was vibrating) and that his condominium unit was set on fire.  Having no one to turn to, he calls Tyler for drinks and asks him if he could crash in his place. But before Tyler could say yes, he tells the narrator: “I want you to hit me as hard as you can.” And he does.

            Thus Fight Club was born. The narrator and Tyler began fighting simply because they have never been in a fight in their entire life and wanted to see what they were each capable of. Soon enough they had a following. Fight Club comprised of men raised in a materialistic world where they were nobody—maitre d’, valet, bartender, office accountant. But in Fight Club they were demigods because they let out their frustrations towards The Man through every punch and kick they threw. Fight Club gave them a sense of belonging and a power of their own that they could not have in the hours when Fight Club did not exist.

            But before there was a movie, Chuck Palahniuk introduced the world of Fight Club when his novel was published in 1997. I breezed through the book quickly, where in almost every page I highlighted passages that caught my attention or simply echoed my thoughts.

            “This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.”

            “If I could wake up in a different place, at a different time, could I wake up as a different person?”

            “You buy furniture. You tell yourself, this is the last sofa I will ever need in my life. Buy the sofa, then for a couple of years you’re satisfied that no matter what goes wrong, at least you’ve got your sofa issue handled. Then the right set of dishes. Then the perfect bed. The drapes. The rug. Then you’re trapped in your lovely nest, and the things you used to own, now they own you.”

            “A lot of young people try to impress the world and buy too many things.” (next to this line I wrote the words “the tragedy of yuppies”)

            “If you don’t know what you want, you end up with a lot you don’t.”

            “Who guys are in fight club is not who they are in the real world. Even if you told the kid in the copy center that he had a good fight, you wouldn’t be talking to the same man.

            Who I am in fight club is not someone my boss knows.

            After a night in fight club, everything in the real world gets the volume turned down. Nothing can piss you off. Your word is law, and if other people break that law or question you, even that doesn’t piss you off.”

            “Getting fired is the best thing that could happen to any of us. That way, we’d quit treading water and do something with our lives.”

            “There will be mistakes, and maybe the point is not to forget the rest of yourself if one little part might go bad.”

“Marla’s philosophy in life, she told me, is that you can die at any moment. The tragedy of her life is that she doesn’t.”

But out of all the passages in the book, the strongest in terms of socio-cultural relevance would have to be this: “You have a class of young strong men and women, and they want to give their lives to something. Advertising has these people chasing cars and clothes they don’t need. Generations have been working in jobs they hate, just so they can buy what they don’t really need. We don’t have a great war in our generation, or a great depression, but we do, we have a great war of the spirit. We have a great revolution against the culture. The great depression is our lives. We have a spiritual depression.”

It is 2013 and Fight Club remains to be relevant. We live in an age of Great Consumerism where we are possessed by our possessions. We do not know why, but we chase after whatever advertisements feed us with. When you go to Manila, look up at the billboards and ask yourself: “What are these ads telling me?” Look at the airbrushed, blank faces of the ad models—how are they just like regular Joes and Janes? 

We are at an age when we line up to buy a new model of a phone that differs from the old one by a few centimeters… when children throw a tantrum because they didn’t get the latest iGadget… when the rich make themselves richer by destroying the environment along the way.

I say let’s break free from this spiritual war. Recognize that you are not your material possessions. You are not how much you have in the bank. You are not your occupation. You are free.

THE social media was on fire this past week with mixed reactions to the news that a UP Manila Behavioral Science freshman named Kristel Tejada killed herself on March 14, a few days after she filed for a leave of absence (LOA) from the said institution. She filed for a LOA because she was unable to pay her tuition.

Her death sparked outrage. And maybe even a bit of condescension from others.

Literary critic and essayist Katrina Stuart Santiago expressed her grief at the tragedy and fury at the apathetic reactions on her Facebook page. She writes: “Let us not think of education as a mere need. It is a human right. You don’t need to be left to acknowledge that. Neither do you need to be left to think it an injustice that a student is forced to go on a leave of absence, because she has no money to pay the State University.” In another post she says: “That we all survived, and she didn’t, is a measure of our class. And no, I’m not talking about being classy here, because the truth is the classy thing would be to keep quiet about our bourgeois take on a tragedy.”

Writer and UP Diliman Professor Carljoe Javier also expressed his thoughts on the matter. He posted on his Facebook page on March 17: “This morning I am angry and ashamed at the stance the UP admin has taken in light of the tragedy… This poor girl didn’t get any breaks, didn’t get the support she needed. And it is a failure and sadness that should weigh upon us all. I hope that students reevaluate their own view of education and their work in and outside the classroom. Hope that we as teachers better value our students and think of the ways we can help them be better. But most of all, it is clear that this UP admin and this country’s government have to take responsibility for the despair that their structures built around every single student. This is not the issue of an individual with mental/emotional problems. This is an issue of a society that has failed one of its members. We should all be enraged by this.”

Chay F. Hofileña of Rappler.com wrote: “As other details became available, it became clear that this story was unlike the more common billboard suicide attempts that tabloids and television networks love covering. It mirrored a systemic problem in a premier state university and was not just about a mentally disturbed person out to get attention.”

However, there are those who weren’t as sympathetic or outraged about the tragedy.  There are those who say things along the line of “Mahirap ako dati pero hindi ko ginawa yan. (I was once poor, but I never resorted to killing myself)” Some even have the assertion “It all boils down to the girl’s personality, there are so many others to who have it worse in life, but they don’t kill themselves.” There are even those who blame the student’s parents for having five children, the father for being a part-time taxi driver, the mother for being unemployed, and for enrolling the child in UP when they can’t even afford to pay the tuition.

Fingers are pointed everywhere. They’re pointed at the government’s crooked system and for its failure to allocate sufficient funds for education. The blame is also pointed at the educational institution, the young girl’s family, and the girl herself.

If we think about it, perhaps there’s more to this suicide than just Kristel’s inability to pay her dues to the school. Maybe that was just the bullet that hit the already pressurized container. But we can’t dwell on that now because she’s gone. We’re left with a lot of “maybes” and “allegedly”. Come to think of it, her death could have been prevented. Maybe some could have reached out and lent a hand.

For this isn’t just about a teenage girl who killed herself because of unpaid dues. It’s a reality check on our society that has become highly stratified—a society where even something as basic as the right to education has become a privilege. Inequality has been further reinforced when the poor cannot even avail quality education without further being made to feel that they are poor.

Education, which is the hope that the proletariats cling on to in order to have a better future if not for themselves then for their children, has become a commodity.

Ours is a pathetic nation whose citizens glue themselves on the boob tube to watch a spoiled, big-mouth celebrity who knows no boundaries between her private life and the public’s right to know cries croc tears every single time her love life disintegrates. Ours is a nation where the ruling class drags its mundane problems to the media, who in turn treat those problems as if they were of national significance.

What ARE we doing anyway to improve our country’s education? Yes, I will give kudos to the planned improvements for primary and secondary education, but what about our higher education students who are so close to making it to the “real world”? Are we leaving them to fend off for themselves as a teaser for the “dog eat dog” world they’re about to find themselves in?

We are hell bent on improving tourism and entrepreneurship, but what about making education an experience worth going through by the youth by improving our education? You say that the youth is the hope of the nation, yet what kind of world are we inheriting from you?

The tragedy of Kristel Tejada is not just about a young girl who didn’t want to live in this world anymore. It’s about a youth deprived of her chance to fulfill her dreams and maybe even uplift her family from poverty. What does her death mean to us then? The world continues to turn as it always has and hers is a name that will be uttered in hush tones as the uncomfortable reality check that this country can be so flooded with BS. The idealist, naïve part of me wants to believe that out of this tragedy there is a silver lining that our education system will improve and no tragedy such as this will ever happen again. But then again, the cynical side of me can’t help but think: this will be just another story that will prove how pestilent the Filipino memory can be. Just wait, the flame will die down and the ashes will be swept under the ground. We’ll go on as if nothing happened. And nothing will happen. After all, we do love to write sins, not tragedies.