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| Prose |
One thing, I love to write essays and I always join in contests whenever there are (and I win ^_^). I competed in one regional contest and I landed seventh place out of twenty-three contestants. Our topic is plainly an experience that if it's scary, it should be really scary; if it's funny, the judge should be tickled, etc. I wrote something scary and hair-raising. Maybe the judge, if she checked them at night, felt someone was looking at her because that's how I ended my essay. I always want my essay to ba as poetic as it can be—there are symbols, too, but not all the time. Or sometimes, I love describing things in the most magnificent way. For example, if I would describe a sunset sky, "The sky is a gradient of dark orange and black." Just like that. So, below are articles made by me (some are from our school newspaper, but I was the one who created them).
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| Scrolls Of Prose |
A Heavenly Lesson From Hell
I had unequal distribution of love to my friends. Negative things had always pierced my mind whenever I'm forced to select a so-called best friend until that unforgettable vision.
This weird event occurred as my vision overcomes reality. It all started when unknowingly, eight children were on a murky place where even the bright volcanoes of hell are unable to light up. I was one of them. Suddenly, a tall, dark man with a face blanketed with shadows, stepped forth. He grouped us into two equally, making each cluster composed of four. My mates are my closest friends: Daniel, Tina, and Albert. He approached the set where I was involved. With an eerie face and roaring voice, he said to me, "Choose among your companions the one who, for you, deserves to be left in this underworld. Think quick, child. Only three of you may go back to the normal world." I thought as fast and at the same time, as smart as I could. Digging up my memory, I reminisced the past—the time when I had the time with my chums. I remembered Daniel not doing a favor for me, one of his closest friends. My mind has made-up a decision. My finger pointed to Daniel. As soon as I rested my finger on Daniel's direction, a flash of light took away Daniel. I said to myself that my option is right. On the next group, the man asked the same question. The girl answered, "Take me." Those two words hit my head. They were like bullets shot on someone's head. I felt my heart burn in conflagrant flames. I felt anger on myself. I sensed demons and lost psyches staring at me, implying that I've wronged. I didn't know what to do on that place, lit by darkness, governed by the unseen, that the joined forces of Einstein, Descartes, and Franklin cannot even explain or theorize its epeirogeny.
My vision was stopped as the sunlight effulged onto my face. How could I be so oblivious of things? I realized that my favor to Daniel directs me to no good. Until that day, I treasured the things that my friends shared and fairly cared for my friends, just like how parents care to their children.
The Living Mystery (The Purpose)
What do you think is the ultimate purpose of life? Do you think we have to expedite in another voyage that awaits us in the unknown life after death? After I lie down to my bed and whisper a short prayer, I think about the mystery that lurks around this world—a sort of an obscurity and at the same time, a mystical wonder interesting.
What is the reason of being born? Many geniuses have their answers, each of which truly bewilder. Others think that life has sanity. The experience of existing is what they want to acquire. On the contrary, others say that life is nothing but cruelty and a weird baloney. We grow up; do the best we can to achieve the peak of our ambition, and at the finish line of life, what's next? We take care of ourselves until that day when our life passes away. Our properties are not forever living, just like our lives. Profession is something we struggle for, but when Death strikes his scythe, what is left? Is title the only thing we ought to leave, or perhaps the earthly materials that we like others to inherit?
The antonym of black is white; above is the antonym of below; and death is the opposite of life, or is it? Perchance, passing away and living work hand in hand. Those who deserve God's greatest gift live, while death takes it all from the undeserving individuals. They appear opposite in several ways. For one, life launches bliss and grief, while the thing to end joy and sorrow together is death.
Are we God's toys for Him to be entertained? As if we are little dolls in a dollhouse that He controls. Possibly, we are just plain old scientific species that have to enter the cycle of life and death. Picture this: we are all characters in one's dream. Or perhaps, we are cards—used in gambling in the game called life. If only the seen life is eternal, I would not be wondering anymore. If only the undead can explain all these, a mystery will be solved. If only the Almighty may appear before us and make it clear, confusions may be decreased. The purpose of life is perhaps beyond the wall—the supernatural wall parting death from all that is physical.
Mr. Misery
In class, there's this guy who has a bad hair day always. He always looks like sleeping in his armrest but the truth is that he thinks and is trying to see nothing but black to forget his school problems. With this, I call him Mr. Misery.
Mr. Misery goes to school with all things unprepared. He problems how he could produce those objects within the period of the teacher's instructions when the time comes that the things to be brought are needed. Think about it, it always occurs, but he has surpassed those cramming times. Always in this state, he seems so used with it, as he doesn't learn from the past. He always sticks and becomes dependent to his seatmates. On tests, you'll hear him like a begging dog, "Pahinging papel." On activities, "Pahiram niyan… Pahiram nun" always comes out from his mouth. What really is very disappointing is that when one refuses to give him the stuff he requires, he curses you and says, "Ganyan ka!" Funny. I didn't know that nowadays, if you taught others what irresponsibility means, you'd be jinxed.
The school life of Mr. Misery is very fed-up. He has countless problems skating around his head. He is a slippery soul that laughter easily falls down from him. His school life may be miserable but his normal life is sprinkled with joy. At home, he dances in enjoyment, never minding what is needed for the next day. When he goes to school, he rushes everything or worse, ignoring them. When the quiz is being given, he keeps on bugging his seatmates and his eyes travel from paper to paper. And when the teacher catches him… Oh! I forgot to mention. At home, he prepares a bag of alibis to use for tomorrow. When the teacher catches him cheating, he launches his excuses. He explains "Hindi naman po ako nangongopya." When he has no homework to present, "Nakalimutan ko po sa bahay namin." is expected. His fellow students advise him the right thing to do, but he seems to be deaf. If ever he harks, his face wrinkles and becomes grumpy like an old man, scratching his head and living alone in an Adams Family kind of house.
With negative comments from his mentors, Mr. Misery keeps it up. On spare time, while his classmates study and act with sense, he spends his time imagining that he is a basketball star, shooting crumpled papers on the cracked trash can, which was also destroyed by him. He also keeps on stealing attention and pestering other students. He acts so high, but inside him is a very low being. He may somehow improve but just for a week. A group project seems so unlucky when he belongs to it. He refuses work and doesn't pay for the things needed. He prefers Counterstrike than school grade. If only Computer Games is a subject in school, he will probably excel and be the best on that subject. But face it, it is not and will not be a part of academic activities.
Mr. Misery seems so down and lives in a planet of despair. However, if he learns how to listen and knows how to be inspired, he has a great chance of triumph. Learn how to take risks and make sacrifices for whatever is lost for the sake of goodness will be returned in larger quantities. Set goals and practice thinking for the future, but not too much-if you think that much, aside from your miseries, you'll be as crazy as a lunatic. And for those who are just gradually becoming a miserable student, forget it. One can enjoy life while studying in full blast. So there he is… The very miserable Mr. Misery. Do you think you're like or directly him? If you are, quit it! And if you're not, then that's just precisely good. If miserable students would continue school with melancholy, misery will surely ruin their youth.
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