A very decalescent day. The sweltering sun shun its proud UV producing rays upon those who unknowingly goes on with their lives. Started this day right and got directly on what i should be finishing and should have been finished weeks ago. But better late than never as they say. After getting over a very stressful and time demanding month of January, i am noticing that i am gradually reverting back to the old ways of irrational delaying of unimportant to important tasks. I need to reorganize myself, set priorities right and rigidly, and swear to every deities there are that i will be religiously sticking to my plans. I'm sure that after all these adversities and sleep-deprived months is a time of reveling and joyous leaps of gratitude. Procrastination is no longer considered as a temporary comfort pillow to an almost stiff neck. Got to get up and do what it is that must be done, no excuses!


Aside from meeting a quasi-gay (not in a discriminating tone) kid in school, altogether this day was again bourgeois! And let me babble about that kid me and my groupmates met a while ago. He was about 9 or 10 years old, and studying in a school that was new to my palate, St. Benedict. What was conspicuous about this kid is that he is talkative to the point of irritating where you want to shove pieces of paper in his mouth to prevent him from talking. What was amazing though is that he talks so much like an adult, which for me by the way is what is causing dilemma to our society. In my subjective analysis of the situation we were in, that kid was deprived of his childhood. Taught and forced to think, talk, and act like an adult. Not degrading the intellects of kids nowadays but disregarding the fact that they are getting smarter, they are also getting older,quickly. Coming from one who never enjoyed his childhood, i know too well the consequences of being compelled to be adult-like notwithstanding your age.


Perfectionism as a tool to gauge the capabilities of children nowadays is not only verging on absurdity, but also on invalidity.Why would one ever expect children to be perfect, fait accompli their age? Better yet, how would one ever expect something even we grown-ups haven't and will never attain from a child who has not yet even understand what being perfect is? Why make adults out of children? The earlier we put the cookies in the oven and leaving them for years, the more they get burnt, get charred and will never be palatable to the tastebuds. And another issue i would like to rantingly bring about to the table of catered and yet seemingly ordinary food is the prevalence of kids nowadays using English as the mode of conversation. In and of itself, i should say, is not wrong. But if i may cry out loud, as loud as i can until the echo of that cry of mine reverberates to the spines of these amnesia-struck parents inducing tremors and irating goosebumps, we are living in Cebu! We must use our native dialect to inculcate values and knowledge to our children. The native tongue where we once were so proud way back when is slowly falling down the overtures, and is endangered of being extinct. One day, and i fear this day come to be when i am still breathing the breaths of these foreign tongues, that no one will ever speak the syllables of bisaya, where no one sings the lyrics laced with sweet melodies of our own language. Why do we try to mimic everything our conqueror does Are we that unconscious of our servitude when we do such inglorious acts? Well, i am not one to speak, and even though i am ranting and raving these indignant and impetuous whiplashes, the dialect i am using to make my entries is not my native tongue. I do not know how that would be different to the one i am indignant about, but i'm confident that they are two diverse cases. And that even though i make use of the little knowledge vested unto my hollow brain on the english tongue, i am still proud, and i take pride in that pride, that i am a cebuano-speaking, english-writing, son of the soil unique to the land where i stand. Hinaot sa akong pag-yawyaw ug mga maka-bukhad mata na lalis, naa koy mabukhad ug laing mga mata.


Let the children of today enjoy their being a child. Don't pressure them to grow up just because the world is running in a seemingly fast-paced, dynamic, and illogically-dictated method. Our children must take pride not only from where they were born, from what their inheritance is, but also from what language that is distinct to us. The moment we start talking like our colonizers is the moment we accept wholeheartedly the servitude they have inculcated in us. They have succeeded in making us their stray pets. We are smarter than what they expect of us. They have undermined our intellect since time immemorial, and that is one aspect we can use to our advantage. We can catch them by surprise as to how mindful we are to our pride as Filipinos, who up until now will be more than willing to raise arms, battle the oppressors who perpetually opress us.


Enough of this politics talk. I am going nowhere, and certainly this won't do me any good. But we must have a receptacle where we can continually and uninhibitingly throw away the nuisances in our minds; not that this is one of it, but it might be categorized on the same rank. Who has never been indignant to the bureaucracies of the 21st century certainly isn't living the real world as the billions of humans are? So much to talk about, so little space. If i'd be given a chance to just press on the keyboard that is already grimacing in acute pain as i incessantly, though formally, greet the little boxes imbued with corresponding letters with my semi-folded and always-ready fingers, i would fill up a mile of blank notepad pages. And i do use notepad, it is not only convenient, but also doesn't underline every single mistake that is non-coinciding with the rules of spelling and grammar as dictated by the people i was whiplashing with my tongue a while ago. Let us be proud!


We may deny our tongue, recant our nationality, but one thing we can never deny,implicitly or explicitly is the fact that within our blood and strands of protein-coated chromosomes laiden out with a double-helix deoxyribonucleic acid, we are, and will ever be the Filipinos the foreigners so love to love. We are what we are, and could never become anybody else. Pinoys are diamonds in a rough!^^,