Start-off

People say that there are two important events in a person’s life. First is the day they were born. And second is the day they know why. Growing up, I’ve known two general truths about myself: first is that I really love to read. And second, I love God and the rest follow suit.

Every day I’d succumb into the depths of books and their visions. I’d be lost for hours dazed in the glory of knights and their slaughtered dragons. I’d mourn over the death of heroes and laugh at the sarcasm of jesters. I’d share the triumphs of David as he defeated his Goliath, hoping that I’d defeat mine too.

My influence with books and the television made want to pursue many careers. Watching Dexter’s Laboratory made me want to be a scientist. CSI and Detective Conan made me want to be a detective. Hans Christian Andersen’s stories made me want to be a princess who sleeps uncomfortably in a tower of mattresses as she lies in wait for the morning to marry her prince. There was even a stage in my life when I wanted to be an archaeologist because I loved to dig and collect rocks.

So I guess I took up law because of my love for stories. When I conducted my thesis entitled Journalism as a Pre-law Degree: Cases of Lawyers in Western Visayas, I’ve learned that the courtroom is an empty page and the storytellers are the lawyers who battle their wit and elocution as they convince the listeners of the story that theirs is one they should believe in.

Another reason is also my love for writing. My grandfather was a lawyer he’d write legibly on long sheets of paper as I watched in awe of how nice his handwriting was and at how stern and urgent were its content. When I took up journalism I saw the role of writing in matters of social responsibility and community initiative. I’ve met countless people in hospitable beds. I’ve met a person who can’t read but still realizes his role in nation building. And I told their story by writing them with the ink of my soul.

My last reason is that I want to live for God’s glory. One of my greatest dreams is indeed to become a lawyer. I want it to be an avenue to help people and my family. I want people to be blessed with the gift of justice. Although law is a dangerous craft because the temptation of deceit is high, I know that through prayers I can survive. God has given me a really good support system, especially that one person who always believed in me, and told me that I’m going to be a great lawyer someday.

In my study of law, I expect to learn my heart out and gain as much experience that when the time comes that my practice is demanded I’ll be ready. From myself I expect focus, that I’ll devote my sleepless nights to the accomplishment of this craft and to memorizing the thick pages of civil codes.

I expect to be molded by incredible individuals who have dedicated their years in the exercise of law. I expect to love the thought of being a lawyer every day. I expect to be humbled by this challenge and to be certain that God has already destined it for me to accomplish.

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Relation Notes

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Smoking his third cigarette, he comes upon the prejudice of his past. The salient motives of fate to render his words too adventurous for a conservative society of law-abiding citizens slowly die reckless. His breathing ran oscillated as the smoke overtakes his lungs while his coffee turns cold at the sight his non-compliance.

Thoughts gamble their race, tempting each other to be more than just mere products of imagination but statements of facts validating their existence in reality. I looked at him mimicking my sanctions, following the exact presumption of my tarnished mind as if he rehearsed it a hundred times, as if he predicted my thoughts before I even had the opportunity to think.

His fifth cigarette slips from his hand. As its ashes stain the floor with silver dust he realized the unending premise of happiness depicted foreign in his vocabulary. Questions commit themselves useless to his alibis, no amount of unrealized potential could suffice his thirst for emptiness.

Seriously.

Photo credit: bbcimg.co.uk

WTH

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The last time I checked having the apathy to consider removing a thought of unwanted premise is only for sane people. Never did I expect that, people with their unwarranted pride and self reclusiveness would bother with bygones.

True enough, the only time when a person doesn’t really care is when he doesn’t tweet or post: “I don’t care” (five times a day). Not caring is not having the initiative to care, but simply letting things go through their natural course. A simple thought or a battle with an inkling is a stage of getting there and yeah, Heat won! (yeah). No interference, no whatever, nothing.

Alaska Memories

Heat

I never understood the thrill of basketball back then. Twas but an imperative pursuit that men seem to find irresistible, however when I watched the Olympic Basketball between Spain and the U.S. years ago my heart felt a leap of excitement. The uncertainty of every quarter was like a struggle for life, for redemption. And like soldiers who pass on the legacy of stories among men who witness their wars, the game struck me.

My favorite team was Alaska, because, I wanted to go to Alaska. Lol, no, I liked them because, I don’t know. I don’t remember, my milk back then was Nido and I clearly recall telling my mom to buy me Alaska (I still drink Alaska up until now, I hate coffee).

My lola can still remember me cheering out of seat for Purefoods during dinner, I had a big crush on Alvin Patrimonio, but that’s over. Now, well, I’m not really an avid fan, though I seldom watch basketball games for the reason that I have no control of the remote.

This season of the NBA, surprisingly lifted me out of my sit. Watching game six between the San Antonio Spurs and the Miami Heat was like watching a man tame a cobra (you decide who’s the man and who’s the cobra). I admit, my heart deeply roots for Miami. My reasons are purely emotional, I mean I don’t even know most of the name of their players. I know that their coach is part Filipino and that’s not even my reason.

I enjoy the rush of the game, the unwarranted and uncensored sweat and blood of players as they race back and forth for a three point or a free throw. I don’t love basketball but I like it sometimes. I guess basketball is just a permanent part of the Filipino culture.

Our love for uncertainty, for the glory of the game encompasses our emotional victory and defeat. As I watched game six, my sanity was reduced to tiny pieces, I was studying in my room that time and hearing the echoes of the games, made me shudder in happiness and exhilaration. When the Spurs had the advantage my heart quivered, when they were tied at 100? (I don’t remember) I listened to music, went to the bathroom consecutive times just to remove the thought of the game because the premise of the situation is that I should be studying not paying attention to a game of which human emotion is subjected.

But I wasn’t, I couldn’t keep my mind off the game. I thought that the game would determine my “mood” for the day, if Miami lost, I wouldn’t have finished studying for Statutory Construction, but thank God they won.

For tomorrow, my heart is appeased with the good realizations life has given me through basketball. I really hope the Heat will win (pretty please). Giving much thought to it I don’t care about basketball but the people I care about (papa, grandpa, kuya dave) adore basketball to the depths of their souls, and I guess when you care about people you also care about what  makes them happy.