Professional Documents
Culture Documents
cover
jurassic
JURASSIC
Engineering Spectrum Literary Folio
Copyright 2009
The copyright reverts to the individual authors of the works appearing in this issue. The
works may not be published nor reproduced without the sole consent of the authors. This
publication is not for sale.
Editor’s Note
Jurassic in the literal meaning:
- (Adj.) constituting or relating to the period of the Mesozoic era
proceeding the Comanchean and succeding the Triassic and the corresponding
system of rocks.
-Webster’s Third New International Dictionary Volume II
Amalia B. Tamayo
Associate Editor, External Affairs
jurassic
Table of contents
POETRY
CEAn my Love 6 SOS 10:6
At The Tip Of My Pen 8 Joan C. Salas
How I… 9 F.s.
Cum Laude 10 bono
Kublian 11 Daryl V. Lapuz
Life 12 Chris
Guilt Of Innocence 14 bliss_07
Enigma 15 Joan C. Salas
Kape 16 Daryl V. Lapuz
A Writer’s Death 18 Wizard Alchemist
Fear 19 Edwin E. Abad Jr.
Untitled (Again) 20 Hephaetus_17
HVC 21 Daryl V. Lapuz
Suntok Sa Buwan 22 ViNTen CE III
(Not Just Another) Love Story 23 Prof. Gay Bicomong
Just Like That 25 Amalia Tamayo
SHORT STORY
An Olden Epic 28 Edwin E. Abad Jr.
Pyutyuristiks 35 Joseph
Ang Sarap Ng Laing 37 Engr. Christian Lazana
Torpe 41 Abet
ESSAY
Aa, Bb, Cc… Titik 44 Marvin John Perdido
Undelivered Speech 47 Lloyd Luna
Patiently I Waited 49 Joan C. Salas
LOVE LETTER 51
ART
Changing Colors 57 Alexander Defeo
Major Target 58 Ronald Jeresano
Jobless Crisis 59 Ronald Jeresano
Volume XV No. .2
POEM
6 jurassic
CEAn my Love
(SOS 10:6) (Vol II Issue No. 3)
HOW I…..
F.s. (Vol. II Issue No.2)
Cum Laude
bono (Vol. VII Special Issue)
Kublian
Daryl V. Lapuz
Life
chris (Volume XIV Issue No. 2)
Life...
is an expedition
yearning for a destination.
needs a humble journey
though there’s dismay, dirt and cruelty.
requires voice
though it doesn’t have the privelege
to be understood.
Is allowed to suffer
‘cause adversity sharpens character.
is bounded by love
seeking the smallest crack
by which it may enter in.
offers bliss
more than anguish.
Guilt of Innocence .
Bliss_07 (Volume XIV Issue No. 2)
Enigma
Joan C. Salas
I need faith
I need a blessing
Hold me in Your arms
My Lord—my Creator
Light up my way
Open up my eyes
Bless my heart with purity
Give me reasons to live life
Just take me
End this up
And I will just continue my life
With You.
16 jurassic
Kape
Daryl V. Lapuz
A Writer’s Death
Wizard Alchemist (Volume XIII Issue No. 2)
Half dead I was, as I recall thy passion of writing the truth and free,
Yes... A writer I was, devoted to express thy emotions in a spree;
I write what most people do not see but felt upon despair,
With hopes that someday many will listen, respond and share.
Features I provoked had all been written upon the walls of my soul,
Speaking the unblemished truth across thy imaginative and idealistic goal;
With open letters I painted deepest thoughts upon my world,
As I share what people have seen, heard, felt and long been foretold.
Fear
Edwin E. Abad Jr.
I saw it…
As our room became more claused,
For the ceiling, the walls, and the floor
They drew nearer from where I lied
I saw it…
The room widening again,
Extending towards the void
Engulfing the light of night
I saw it!
A vague specter,
Embedded in torn rags, revealing an eye
Gleaming on the ethereal soul within my flesh
It saw me…
The unknown entity summoned a wrath of leashes
Held me to where I was,
Heaving me back to my bounded state
It saw me!
Break the entanglements
Attack with a vicious hew
Rendering itself in a horrific retreat
I saw it.
Untitled (again)
Hephaetus_17 (Volume XIII Issue No. 2)
HVC
Daryl V. Lapuz
Suntok sa Buwan
ViNTen CE III – 1(Vol. III Issue No. 3)
LOVE STORY
Prof. Gay Bicomong (Volume XIII Issue No. 2)
I wallow in gloom,
But love grows into a blossom.
24 jurassic
No words exited
from her mouth then
lips narrowly opened by shock
and only dry tears on her face.
An Olden Epic
Edwin E. Abad Jr.
III. Uprising
Willer was perplexed…thinking what his acting uncle said, he hoped that
his assumptions will never be true.
Is old man Atkin not paying his dues to the throne? Maybe he doesn’t
anymore. It has already been a month since Lord Mauvoir raised the par for the
commoner’s taxes.
As his deep contemplation continued together with his chores, he soon found
himself weeping… for the thought of his makesake uncle walking towards the
hung rope might be near… tomorrow, or the day after that.
Fired with rage, he threw the sweeper at a stall’s wooden pillar. Its handle
split in two and the noise it made had the horses alarmed in a frantic manner.
Willer is now on the floor, knee bent, wiping his face ridden in tears. His
decision is now set. He will revolt. In his own accord, no longer will he, his
father, old man Atkin and the rest of his fellow peasants be beaten, stolen, nor
abused upon these wretched nobles.
A faction…. He will start a faction. He will discreetly spread the word
amongst the lads in the stable, on Zircon’s cornfields, and all the livestock herders
of Crystal Hearth. From there, they will address their anguish in a revolution.
King Septimus’ health will no longer have him fit enough to be an audience for
their plea. Drastic action might be their only way.
However, before anything else, he must gain the confidence of his sought
comrades. He never had the chance to be in an academe, nor does he have the
tact to raise awareness to his own social kind. And thus leaves him to one lone
choice – bloodshed!
His dreams were prophecies. Those knights under the King’s servitude are
savage, barbaric fiends even if they wear handsome surcoats and gleamed armor.
Their acquisitions of territories beyond the border was never made by the tongue,
but rather by the cold steel of the blade… against the flesh of every man, woman
and child that goes against their path… the very picture of Willer’s nocturnal
visions.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for one.
Blood of a noble for each wound of a simpleton.
In between the moments he had sitting on the stable’s floor, Willer heard
distinct chimes of chausses from the stable’s entrance behind him. He felt the
chilly gauntlets lying on his right shoulder. And with quick retorting, Willer
grabbed the visitor’s forearm and lift its body from his shoulder and slammed it
32 jurassic
to the floor in an instant. Grasping the broken handle of the wooden sweeper
and its lethal point on the defunct end, he is persistent on stabbing the armored
one on its unpanoplied eye. Just as the tip of his makeshift murder bludgeon
could land on the unknown’s head, Willer’s hand was held fiercely by the
stranger’s gauntlets. And suddenly, Willer unmistakably recognized the one he
chucked down the floor.
It was the prime commander he saw three days ago in the bailey. “Though
day, huh?” Princess Alicia asked Willer with a smile as she was still on the floor
with an improvised stake pointed at her face. Willer then eased, threw away the
treacherous contraption and helped the dame stand up.
“Forgive me, your highness. It’s just…” the stable boy said with a sigh.
“Nay, it’s fine. When I get that mad, I also resort on hitting things.” Alicia
then continued, “Works better for me rather than bottling them all up.”
For Willer, everything Princess Alicia said was irony.
He first met her when they were kids. Willer was aiding his father on his
kiosk that sold food to the field’s farmers on Saphiron town’s outskirts, when
some hooligans came to their humble stall and crashed their wares. But before
the opportunistic brigands’ leader had the chance to sever Simeon’s head, a girl
called upon them to halt and leave the man and his child alone.
As expected, the arrogant bandit laid the man down and approached the
fearless child that held a sword on her left hand, as the braids of her locks and
the flounces of her royal dress was blown by the plains’ dusty gusts. The vile
man with the dagger then rushed to the young challenger.
After a while, the thieves’ corpses and their limbs spewed everywhere; whilst
the girl stood with an elegant pose, her dress all crimson with blood, but
unscathed.
And as to where Willer stood today, the girl has still those conspicuous
braids on her smooth flowing locks. The dress and its flounces, however, was
now a lustrous breastplate as protection from the excessive fusillades. Her fate
as the kingdom’s foreshadowed “prodigy of war” was just simply being fulfilled.
“Willer.”
“Yes, your majesty?”
“You have been working too much again, haven’t you?” and the respected
Commander drew a bottle of rare zinfandel wine and a pair of glass goblets
from the satchel off her back.
IV. Torment
Daffodils and daisies…
It was the spectacle that Willer saw sitting up from a sort of slumber as he
felt the warm breeze of sunshine against his skin the next morning. The patch
where he lay upon was, in fact, a whole field of flowers, stretching as far beyond
the horizon. And no tree, mountain, nor edifice was in sight, just daises and
daffodils.
Volume XV No. .2 33
In one blink, the scenery changed into a picture of a wooden joist, with a
plank having a crack that let the late morning light in; giving illuminations of
stray cobwebs and clutter throughout. Willer is back in the stable.
For once in a long time, his nightmares have changed into a pleasant, vivid
dream. Gone were those dying men, women, and children that died sinisterly
under the clasps of the Fenris knights. He could now recall everything that
happened the previous night.
Princess Alicia went back to the castle coming from the campaign beyond
the Septimian border. She has to have her stallion, Noir, checked up from an
inflicted battle injury on his right thigh. Willer, being an experienced tender of
these matters, took it inside and discovered three deep lacerations on the steed’s
right thigh. He fully knows that Noir’s lesion was not made by any footmen’s
sword, arrow, nor spear but by a mere farmer’s pitchfork. He uses one often,
and Willer clearly knows the even spacing of holes it made in haystacks, the
same that it did in Noir’s thick brauns.
Some of the wine that Alicia brought forth that evening was unexpectedly
exhausted on cleansing Noir’s wounds, for they weren’t any spring water at
hand. After the tedious medicating operation on Noir, they consumed the rest of
the zinfandel.
It’s already noon, and the kingdom’s prime dame was nowhere in sight.
Willer cut his recollection short as he got the empty wine bottle that coincidentally
rolled by Noir’s stall. The stallion was asleep and it breathed gently. With that,
Willer smiled, whilst he picked up the wine bottle and the pieces of the split
sweeper that were all remnants of the night before.
For the whole length of the afternoon, Willer was in a very lively mood.
When he had meted hay and water among all of the horses’ stalls on the
stable, Willer finally called it a day. He then proceeded outside the stable’s
doors where he was greeted by a scene of gray, cloudy skies and somewhat a
stirred crowd of people in the bailey’s plaza.
Carrying his valise and wearing his round hat to protect him from the
incoming rain, he went forth to know what the commotion was about. There,
from where the stage have often been set, was Lord Mauvoir, staging another
execution for tax evading simpletons.
It could have been just another sigh, but as soon as Willer distinguished the
ones to be hanged, it made him threw his valise and ran fast towards the direction
of the gallows. Even at a distance, Willer can recognize his father walking up
the steppes of the stage… tied at the back, battered, and pushed towards the
impending death on the thick, dangled ropes. After Simeon, it was Old man
Atkin with the similar beaten and constrained circumstance, one more cause for
Willer to hinder the sentencing.
Along the stable’s grazed yard Willer ran, and continued doing so as his
bare feet fiercely went against the castle’s street of bricks. He may not be too
late, but in truth, he’s not intending to be a hero that could boldly go up against
the landlord and the tax collector. All that he thinks that he can do is at least ask
34 jurassic
Dimitri and Mauvoir for further consideration and hope that amidst their greed,
Willer could find kindness.
He was quick on the way towards the gallows, but before he reached the
throngs of people, he felt the shaft of a halberd flog his gut. Wincing in pain,
this rendered Willer to curl down on the ground. The sentry that was in charge
of regulating the execution recognized Willer’s reaction of anxiety and intentions
from far away.
Willer, despite the sharp contraption that trod the underside of his chin,
brashly struggled sideways away from the tip of the halberd and with this, he
broke away from the armed guard, but his throat was compromised, which was
slit open and blood gushed freely down his neck.
Still, going through the crowd, Willer shoved, pushed, and stomped anyone
that was on his way. But from the way that his unconscious ferocity affected
some innocent bystanders, three, five, then six castle sentries went to hold him
down, with the front of his trunk slammed against the ground, to eschew further
commotion.
Willer was then flat on the dust, his limbs grasped by the castle’s soldiers
but he can still see his father and old man Atkin being made to go up the stools
for their heads to reach the looped ropes above the gallows. When Simeon up
the stage and Willer very low down, their eyes met. The father called upon his
son, in a voice unheard but clear, and this had Willer to judder away from the
men that compelled him and scream to Mauvoir and Faust to defer the death
sentences until he could compensate whatever they lacked, in a moment or so.
But alas, with the incongruity of events, his voice rasped, and only then he
knew that the wound on his neck hindered his speech anyhow. In spite of all
these torment, Willer seems to fight back more, jerking until he could possibly
be free from the armed men. The man that held Willer’s hair lost patience of the
pesky peasant’s persistence, whence he began knocking down the captive’s head
down the rough bricks of the plaza’s floor.
When the six sentries have seen to it that Willer have already worn down
from struggling, they’ve let him go, and each of them stood up, not knowing
what to feel… whether it be guilt, sorrow, or anger. Even the whole crowd was
silent, confused as well.
Willer, now unbound, tremblingly lied on his back from the former position
he had, being face down. He immediately heaved a deep breath for his once
ruptured chest, squashed by the weight by the ones that gripped him steadfastly.
His eyes are fixed in the sky where the gray clouds continued to pass by.
Immersed entirely in pain as he was himself bathed in his own sweat and blood.
The gray clouds were darkening, and even as they turned to an infinitesimal
void, Willer felt no touch of relief.
Not one.
Never.
Volume XV No. .2 35
PYUTYURISTIKS
Joseph (Volume VII Special Issue)
Favorite hangout namin ang Moon. Maraming kwento kasi ang bumabalot
sa lugar na ‘yon. Sabi nila, may nanirahan daw doong white monkeys ang missing
link sa extinct race na Amerikano. Natagpuan kasi doon ang artifact ng telang
may red stripes at boxed stars; ito raw ang flag ng kanilang lahi. Pero mahirap
ring paniwalaan kasi hindi naman sigurado kung nabuhay ba talaga ang mga
Amerikano. Posibleng joke lang ito ng Venus.planet.solarsys na mahilig mang-
goodtime.
Eniwei, total nagsesenti na rin ako, paninindigan ko na. Ayon sa mga kwento
ni Impong Tasyo.com.earth, 45 anyos at pinakamatanda sa buong universe,
naka-store raw sa kanyang turtle-speed computer (halos 500 Nanobytes MHz
lang ang memory speed) ang kasaysayan ng mundo. Ipinamana raw ito sa kanya
ng lolo ng lolo ng lolo ng lolo ng tatay niya, na isa sa mga developer ng
makasaysayang Windows Ninety Five Million.
Ayon dito, noong mga 4 A.I. (After Impeachment), masyado raw komplikado
ang buhay sa bansang Pilipinas, isa sa mga paksyon sa Earth.planet.solarsys.
Pagkatapos raw ma-impeach ni Sherap, nagkasunod-sunod na: mula VP,
Senators, at Cong. Hanggang Class President. Halos bukambibig na ang
impeachment; ginaya na rin ito ng iba pang paksyon tulad ng Japan, Tsina atbp.
Kaya ng sumugod ang mga taga-Pluto.planet.solarsys, madaling na-invade
ang Earth. Wala nga namang gustong maging lider sa takot na ma-impeach. Isa
rin siguro ito sa dahilan kaya di nagtagal ang mga taga-Pluto sa takot nilang
ma-expose ang kanilang mga katarantaduhan. At saka, dumating na kasi si
Gokuo.dbz.earth.warrior, ang super sayan na ubod ng lakas dala ang mga dragon
ballz. Baka nga naman sila resbakan kaya dali-daling nag- alsa balutan. ‘Nga
pala si Gokuo rin ang bumuhay muli sa araw (naging dead star na kasi ito)
matapos niyang hilingin sa mga dragon ballz . Pero in the meantime habang ‘di
pa umaaksyon ang mystical dragon@dbz.nemic, pinadala muna bilang
replacement ang mga anti-sherap na sobrang init ng ulo.
Mula noon, malaki na ang respeto sa Eath.planet.solarsys. Kaya nang
magkaroon ng Solar System Convention, karamihan sa mga na-elect na officer
ay taga Earth. Kailangan na kasing magkaisa na lahat ng planeta sa solar system
upang maging handa sa anumang paglusob ng taga ibang dimension.
Ganda sana ng istorya. Kaya lang, hanggang doon lang ang nai-save ng
ninuno ni Impong Tasyo.com.earth. Bukod kasi sa mabagal, halos kokonti lang
ang hd space (800 Terabytes lang) at di pa supported ng kanyang Windows
Ninety Five Million ang ibang files.
Hanggang dito na lang. Sasama pa ako sa rally namin sa moon upang hinggin
ang pag-resign ni President_Serena Dalrymple2000.gov.solarsys.
Kung may tanong ka pa, e-mail mo ‘ko hanggang ‘di pa corrupted ang
aking utak. O kaya, sunod ka na lang sa Moon para mas marami tayo.
(Pahabol: May barya ka ba d’yan, pahiram muna ng 2.5 billion. Wala kasi
akong pamasahe!)
Volume XV No. .2 37
<Bakit Umiiyak?>
Eh kinain mo yung pagkain niya… di bale maya-maya yung dog food
na lang ang ibibigay ko.
<Anong dog food? Yung nasa ref sa may chiller, yung nakalagay sa
plastic? Yung parang giniling na ang bango-bango na may green peas pa!
DOG FOOD ba yon?!!?>
Oo bakit?
<A nakita ko kanina tinangay ng daga…>
Anong nangyayari sayo?
<Ah… ang liwanag… pare bye-bye, sinusundo na ako>
BOINK-sound effect
Tanga florisent yan…
<Dumidilim ang paningin ko… bye bye na talaga… ahhh…>
BOINK-sound effect uli
Idilat mo kaya yang mga mata mo!
<Himala!!!>
<12:30 na, di ka na nun bibigyan…>
E di pa luto eh
<Paano mo nalaman?>
Yun o, nakabilad pa yung ibang gabi.
<…>
Volume XV No. .2 39
Ang tagal naman, di pa ba luto? Di na yata ako bibigyan.
<E ikaw lang feeling sikat ka e, saan ka pupunta?>
Sa bilihan ng ulam sa may kanto.
<O ba’t wala kang dala?>
Walang nagtitinda.
<Ang init pa naman, sayang lang pagod mo.>
Ayos lang.
<Ha?>
Nakita naman ako ng may crush sakin.
<Teka, kapatid ba nun yung nanghiram ng is among gitara?>
Oo.
<Bakit di na lang yung bago, para dagdag pogi points?>
Baka sabihin nila pinopormahan ko sila e, mahirap nang machismis.
<Nila? Sila? Ilan ba yung may crush sa’yo?>
Di ko alam basta marami dyan sa kung saan-saan at tabi-tabi.
<Gutom ka na nga…>
…
…
<Uy may tao ata?>
<Para saan yang platito?>
Lalagyan ng Laing.
TORPE
Abet (Vol 10 No. 3)
Undelivered Speech
Lloyd Luna (Volume VII Special Issue)
“H onor and shame from no condition rise, act well your part. That’s
where the honor lies.”
Distinguished guests, fellow engineering students, friends, Good morning.
I hardly know why I laudably stand here before you. But only one thing
is certain: I want to speak up in your behalf and so as to speak in behalf of our
professors.
We know how unique everybody is. We are knowledgeable about ourselves
being distinct from others. So as to our beloved professors. They do have
their own way of expressing themselves and they have their personal reasons
why they do a thing. This fact should always be in the mind of those who
considered themselves intelligent.
Ladies and gentlemen, I am only in the second year of my study yet I
understand the life of being a student. It was during my first year when I got
a grade of 3.0 that I claimed I didn’t deserve. It was a distressing and a
heartbreaking part. No matter how hard I tried looking for my professor and
trying to demand why I got this grade but it was already my mark. I pretended
to be calmed every time I see her but deep inside me is hatred that I wish she
were not my professor during those times. Everybody let me foresee, should
agree with my feeling is right and everyone should be reacting the same thing
I did before.
It is a solitary and deserted moment of life (when one failed on his expected
outcome). That is on so many cases on which he should be outshining hindered
by a threat of darkness and selfish act of another party. Although he worked
so hard, it is just nothing but an absurd deed and sacrifices.
This is one face of an individual. This is one kind of professor who is
normally visible in our college life. This is one nature that boils our very
blood over a temperature of 2000°C.
The bottom line here is this: Does the grade of 1.0 reliable when I speak
of knowledge? We can’t say we are happy when we know that though we had
a high rating, we acquire low learning. And we will not be proud unless we
admit that we deserve to have such. Along with this is the figure that is a
mistake when our professor gave us such encircled grade.
Another faces? Yes, there are still. There comes the professor who goes
in class one hour late. Who will be encouraged to be in school and study hard
with that kind of instructor? For goodness’ sake! There is another who comes
48 jurassic
very early, 10 minutes before the time that is , but dismisses his class an hour
before dismissal. Some unconcerned students are glad because they will have
time to wander but think of those who want to learn more. We have also
instructors with nothing to do rather than assign seatwork and researches that
are sometimes far from the subject matter. If you have your purposes unknown
to everybody, I just hope it is for the benefit of the students for they are not
the only ones concerned and involved but also their parents who work so
hard that sometimes make their nights a running day of job. I also hope that
they are not just from your mind but also to a certain extent from your heart.
However, there are mentors who are doing their job well. There approaches
the one who come on time, really explains the lessons and assigns related
homework. There are some who are very dedicated on their field of
specialization and able to abide with the university’s mission and vision, goals
and objectives. They consider teaching not just as a profession but a life to
live and service to work with. Those deserve a round of applause and a salute.
Thereupon, we should take that fact. Everybody is distinct. Everybody is
subjected to be different from anybody else. What requires us to do now is to
respect our distinction. All we have to do, whether we are mentors or students,
is to appreciate and to acknowledge our parts not tomorrow but today. We are
given a chance to live our life not to step on anyone but to lift him up regardless
of who is he when he is down. That is if we keep on touching somebody’s
heart.
Quote: I will always be what I wanted myself to be; courageous to do
right when everybody around me does wrong.
Volume XV No. .2 49
Patiently I Waited
Joan Cajucom Salas
A leader who naturally has the love for his country and has the
courage to speak the truth. A leader who is upright, straightforward
and holds no wealth richer than his dignity.
A leader who fears the consequence of doing wrong. Who has the
right God to follow—someone that cannot be demonized by money,
by fame and by power.
I am in need of leader who has a heart that beats for the people and
a voice that calls out for change and progress. Someone who has the
ears that hears the appeal of the less fortunate and not the bribe of the
corrupt. Someone who stands behind the plight of the majority.
Someone who was owned not by the Palace but of the Public.
For all the animosity confronting our country and for all the disgrace
it earned, how can this nation prove its worth?
50 jurassic
The everyday news just seems to disgust us. The non-stop bickering
both in Senate and in Congress, the unsolvable issues of corruption,
the battle of the anti’s and pro’s, the uprise of the nationalist flare of
the so called ‘leftists’, the defense mechanism of the Palace and a whole
lot more.
Our political situation is rotten. How can we, or rather, can we still
make it right? Can we survive the maze of lies and perplexities that
these leaders play? Or are we forever boxed within their promises?
Nobody knows what lies ahead of us. But we can step our best foot
forward to hone this country for the better.
The citizenry have a big task at hand to help their leaders, and yes,
we’re doing our best. But are they doing their best? The problem is we
have leaders who act like leaders and called their selves leaders but in
truth are nuisance to this country.
They were in the position to work hard but not to steal hard. They
gain a lot as we lose so much. Politics had been their passport to fame
and prestige and their license to gamble and to overpower people.
Worst, the few good men were outnumbered by the rotten ones. I
laud, as well as the whole Filipino nation, those who continue to serve
their sworn purpose of selfless service. With the mockery that the word
politician doomed in the vocabulary, may the time come that politicians
will no longer be called politicians but be named and known as public
servants.
We have to have a great Filipino leader who will uplift and alleviate
our situations. Leaders who will save us from the ravine of dirty politics.
Leaders who will awaken the true spirit of how was it to be a Filipino.
We had one goal – to find every thing a place to fit in, to organize
and systematically arrange those documents. But like a thief in the
night something caught us off-guard, under the heaps of paper and
prints we came across with LOVE.
But even if it’s expressed only in sheet of papers, even if it’s tattered
by age... The feeling that brought those words together are the very
same feelings that we felt as we read the letters that night. That was
love. It endures the test of time. May this sentiment pass on to those
who had loved, loving, and are waiting for a love to come.
Volume XV No. .2 53
November 29, 1995
Dearest ELIZABETH,
Before anything else, I would like to say Hi, and I’m sure your fine
kaya lang baka masira ang araw mo dahil alam mo na, nasira ba?
Sana hindi.
I’ll go straight to the point, kasi medyo nahihirapan na ako sa
situation nating dalawa. Siguro bago ko muna ayusin ng husto ang
relationship namin ni Cyrill, unahin ko muna yung sa atin. From the
first time we talked I consider you as my friend, but when things started
to change for example noong niligawan ko si Cyrill then naging
boyfriend niya ako parang nag-iba ang ihip ng hangin, nagbago ka rin
eh! Ewan ko kung bakit ganoon, may nagawa ba akong hindi kanais-
nais? Siguro ikaw na makasasagot.
Frankly, I feel frustrated everytime I glance and smile at you but
your response is so cold, parang hindi mo ako nakikita. I have done
that many times but ganoon pa rin. Gusto sana kitang kausapin kahapon
but I don’t get a chance, siguro blessing na rin iyon. So I decided to
write for you to know yung feelings na nararamdaman ko.
Sana magkausap tayo, I really like that for us to straight things up
and be friends like before. I’m not doing this for Cyrill, but as a person
who liked to be with your company again. The truth is gusto kitang
kasama dahil okey ka, so Im trying to make things good for us again.
Alam mo siguro kung gaano kahalaga sa akin si LABZ, and you
also know na mahalaga ka rin sa kanya. Sa totoo lang kaya niyang
ipagpalit ako sa kanyang kabarkada, kasi parang second family niya
kayo. Ang lahat ng mahal ni Cyrill, mahal ko rin. So in conclusion
mahal ko rin kayong lahat (CORNY BA?) pero yan ang totoo, hindi
lang siguro visible.
Sorry sa lahat ng nagawa kong mali sa iyo, hoping na mapapatawad
mo ako, kasi ayaw ko nang may nagagalit sa akin. Lastly, I hope you
can respond to my letter, kahit ibigay mo na lang kay Cyrill or if you
want you can set any day that we can talk privately. Marami pa kasi
akong gustong sabihin at ipaliwanag pero siguro…
Hanggang dito na lang, ingat ka sa pag-uwi.
FRIEND?
It’s M.E.
EDGAR
54 jurassic
Babes,
“CHANGING COLORS”
Alexander C. Defeo
Acrylic on Canvas
Volume XV No. .2 57
“MAJOR TARGET”
RONALD Jeresano
Acrylic on Canvas
58 jurassic
“JOBLESS CRISIS”
RONALD Jeresano
Acrylic on Canvas
Volume XV No. .2
59
Staff Writers Edwin Abad, Gimeil Abuda, Bejay Berces, Paul Lester Chico, Jan
Leo Herrera, Mark Jason Ignacio,
Arnold Lalongisip and Chester Mifuel
Editorial Consultants April Angela Gumban, Marvin John Perdido
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