An Excerpt

Senior high may only have lasted two years, but this is where I learned most - I met versions of me I didn't know existed, I had bad days, and had my heart be broken - but it is a kind of ride I will forever look back on. Just like how I would continue wearing the earrings I used to always wear, keep my handwriting just the same, recall every memory, I will carry pieces of who I am, pieces that built who I am, onto the new chapter of my life. Graduates and completers, let us take this moment as a chance to speak to our future selves. Let this be our time capsule, finger-crossed let us say to ourselves: “What I aspire to will be my reality. Soon enough, I will look back on this very day with a heart full of joy, realizing that I prevailed, and that triumph is in my hands now, making my perseverance worthwhile.”As I end this message, let me leave you an excerpt from my favorite book written by Paulo Coelho, “There is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve: the fear of failure.” You’re already 50% closer to your dream if you know what you want. In order to make up for the other 50%, all you have to do is try. If you’re scared to try, then try scared. There is only so much to gain and nothing to lose. The future is scary and is undefined, but one thing’s for sure - we will get there because we are trying.

disclaimers:
- the context of the articles were based on the videos attached
- clicking the picture would direct you to the video!

Life Behind the Cell: A Life That's Worth to Tell

Over the years, it has been a concept that inobedience to law requires someone to be treated harshly, leaving people's mind with the idea of prison as a punishment. But once the sinner have been punished, what's more to life after it?Finland indeed embodies their title as the happiest and safest country in the world, as one of their prisoners, Matti, does not make it obvious that he serves a life sentence with a glimpse of hopefulness in his eyes. "Prisoners should have access to the same services and rights as the other citizens," said Pia Puolakka.Finland invests on smart prisons where inmates like Matti can come and go using their car and study in their free time. Matti even thought that at the beginning of his sentence, negative things will takeover and that life is over. But seeing him engage in meaningful discussions with his heart lit up with passion and willingess to start anew makes him and his potential shine brightly from within; more than just being an image of someone behind the bar.Humand are vulnerable to mistakes and these mistakes should not define one's entirety, limiting them to soar up high. Thus, prison should not be seen as a place for consequences, but rather as a place where second chances and an attempt to make life worth living is given."You should give people a chance, that's the most important thing," Matti stated in fervor to be on the crest of a wave, being excited for his future. Carrying his earned wisdom, he stands up with courage and as a reminder that you are never far from the finish line, and that a life behind the cell can be a life that's worth to tell.

62 in age, 'Atty.' in name

Filipinos tend to cling to life's imaginary deadline—specifically to the idea of settling down once you've reached your senior years. But to Rosula Calacala, 62, education is timeless and pursuing her dream is never too late.Mother to two CPAs and a lawyer, the apple sure does not fall far from the tree. At the age of 58, Nanay Rosula decided to enter Northeastern College in Isabela along with hopefulness to give herself a shot of studying law."I took the law school for only four years, wala akong failing grade," she uttered with grateful tears as she confidently aced the bar at the first take. "I'm 62 years old passing the bar, can you imagine that?" Nanay Rosula added in disbelief that she is one of the 3,812 risk-takers and fate-testers to pass the test.Now that her children finished school, all she's left to do is to bring her mission to life: to serve God and to serve those who are in need. At the same time, she makes history as the eldest passer—breaking barriers, promotinf inclusivity, and being an inspiration.With eyes full of aspiration and a heart full of compassion, Nanay Rosula serves as a beacon of hope to those who are helpless, leaving a legacy, and reminds us that age is never an excuse from aiming and making it happen.

disclaimers:
- i intentionally write in lowercase
- the content of my writings are almost nothing personal---i’ve been carrying the weight of all the good and bad things (and everything in between) upon my fingertips half of my existence now. i fill the vastness of ocean with my tears and breathe a million dust just for the humans to breath oxygen. i am a god who listens to others’ plea like i never had the choice to say no. if only i could shut up and let the sound of my own heart breaking take over the silence, i badly would, because it seemed like people turned blind not to see the agony behind my eyes—they turned so ignorant not to know that someone who listens needs a listener too.i already vomited a million of letters on my dear diary as if it could heal my wounded heart. i let other people make it bleed, again and again, when i ask myself what am i doing when i’m already doing it. they make it very hard not to care but it seems so hard for them to care that i always end up giving what i long for and tolerating what i hate.i cry the most
at the places
you don't know
and in the times
you think i don't
and maybe i will
forever cry a river
until i can't breath
or maybe until
it doesn't hurt anymorei’ve always been mindful to others but so, so heartless to myself—don’t you think i’ve suffered enough? when will i be a home for myself first?

she remembers the way how people with blue eyes laugh; how a music live in someone's ear—or heart, rather; how a brewed coffee taste like the same as the first time; how the moonlight creep within a moonchild's skin; how the souls of lovers meet; and how beautiful it is to love and give—SHE REMEMBERS ALL THE GOOD THINGS.but she never once remembered how i kissed her under the eiffel tower, how i die everytime she cry, how my arms became a home for her—she never remember how i loved her.maybe the poesies
i've written that crawls
within my bone
have already dead
that they aren't enough
to feed you butterflies
anymore.
maybe the gods above
had forbidden me to love you —
maybe they don't listen
to my prayers anymore;
but i still think they do
because i prayed for you
to have your heart guarded
and maybe i'd only break it;
or maybe we're not just
meant to be; or
maybe i've become
one of those miserables
that i can't be
so lovable anymoreas you never remembered how i loved you, because you only remember good things.

the archangels seemed to be tired from hearing our sinful chants resulting us to be one of their disponent worshippers. we look for miracles as much as we look for peace for the solace within us had been wiped out already from our bodies with tears. eyes are too swollen to open and tongue’s too dry to speak; we’ve been exhausted from screaming and attempting to be alive. the language of gods have healed and tamed everything already but our misery. we’ve been prisoned inside a crock where our grief resides for so long that it already ate us and took half our identity. we are nothing but a glorified mess on a raging home that we are.and together with my ill-written poetry, i offer you my wrath.