I SHOULD BE CUT...

My Frustration, My Resignation

I have explicitly stated in my personnel information sheet, which we were asked to fill up in my first year of service, that I will serve the school for ten years at least. This presupposes that after serving the school for ten years, my contractual commitment to the school expires. In this respect, I would like to tender my resignation as one of the employees of the school effective but not earlier than one month after receipt of this letter.

After continually serving the school for ten years, I need to rest a while because I now feel physically tired and psychologically drained. Lately, it has always been an effort for me to wake up early and prepare myself for school. It seems as if the number of hours I slept was never enough. I have poor control of my elevated blood pressure although I am on some oral anti-hypertensive medication. I am stressed out.

Furthermore, I have been acting strangely lately. I cannot tolerate noise and minor student infarctions. I constantly change my mind. I am no longer fixed with my decisions. I make big problems out of simple lapses. I am sad. I compensate this by eating more. I have never been so confused about myself. I only find peace of mind when I am at home, when I shut myself totally from outside. I feel myself melting from within out.

Both of these - physical exhaustion and brain drain - have prevented me from becoming a good instructional leader, to say the least. Juggling my eight-hour school time between teaching students and managing instruction left me so tired. This year has been my worst both as a teacher and as an instructional leader. In fact, I have been more a teacher this year than an instructional leader. This has greatly and adversely affected the school as a learning institution in general. My performance this year is left to be desired.

My problem, however, is not solely school-based. I have even more personal problems tocontend with. Firstly, the relationship problem of my parents left me choosing which to side. My mother, who I live all alone with and who suffers from frequent chest pains, always keeps me uptight. Secondly, it was and has always been my desire to travel and visit places, learn the culture of other people and appreciate their heritage and traditions. I still have to fulfill this dream though lofty it may be. Thirdly, the free spirit in me is nagging for me to explore beyond where I am now - outside my comfort zone - to jump out of the box. I want to go back to serving the least, the last and the lowest of the town (where I was before). I missed so much my previous work as a social worker - dealing with innocent children and their unpretentious parents.

Though it is a reflection of my poor performance as an instructional leader, I feel I am losing control over the students, the teacher...and worse, even over my own self. As a classroom teacher, I cannot seem to make the students read their Computer manuals. As the principal, I cannot even make the teachers submit their lesson plans regularly and on time. As to my own self, I am barely holding on to my wit's end. Though embarrassing, I have so many times burst into child-like tantrum display hurting me in one occasion. I cannot think and I cannot afford to happen that such an irrational outburst later on will hurt students and jeopardize the good name of the school which the previous teachers have painstakingly etched.

My presence in the school has become a deterrent rather than an encouraging sight. People outside may have seen me as a valuable, mission-critical and vision-oriented personnel. They are wrong and I do not want to live with their delusions. One thing, however, remains true. I have and will always be grateful to the school and to all the people I have worked with. My working in the school and the opportunities afforded to me were of no equal. I grow and bear fruit; however, like any other tree that grows old with time, it has to be cut, lumbered and packaged anew. And such will also be my case.

IT IS HARD, SO I HAVE TO KEEP UP

...Life That Is

The world today is not as vast as before. Because of the Internet, everyone and everything are just a mouse-click away, to quote my post-grad professor. Whatever happens and wherever it might be can be readily viewed or accessed in either cable TV broadcast or the Internet. Today, there is information deluge that to me it is quite a puzzle if still people act as if they evolved with the apes thousands of years ago. Precisely, this was what irritated me so much yesterday-people who are not just dumb but also very insensitive. Well in good, I woke up in the right side of the bed today. There are just things last night and today that definitely have proven me wrong about how dumb people can be.

Yesterday, in college, I had my final examination for Ed Tech 2. The course basically requires education students to manipulate the computer and the Internet to help improve classroom instruction and make other school related work a lot easier when they become real teachers soon. We hold classes inside the computer room, obviously. The exam I prepared for yesterday required me to save some PPT and Excel files in the computer. The students, following directions, would have to open these files for the questions and would write their answers in the answer sheet I would have distributed. The entire work would have been easier if not for some dumb students who literally competed with me yesterday.

There were students yesterday with me inside the computer room rehearsing their PPT presentations which served as their final exam for another course. I told them I would be using the computers and that they had to get out in order for me to finish saving the files earlier because my exam would be due anytime soon. They did not listen, and this irked me so much. How can students be so dumb, insensitive and downright rude? What I feared more was that they might not have understood what I asked of them because I did it in English. If it was the latter case, then it was indeed so sad, so pathetic. No wonder we are churning out professionals that are inefficient as hell in the real labor world and as dumb as a person can be in the academic circle.

When I got home, my house help told me that somebody alerted her that there would be a power failure at 8 last night. I did not believe her nor did I reprimand her for getting a wrong information. However, I would have like to dress down the person who misinformed her. They must have been referring to the Earth hour wherein people all around the world will have to turn off lights and any other electronic devices not crucial to work. This is a world-wide activity led by the WWF as a sign of voting for Mother Earth's sustainable existence. It is not primarily to save electricity, but in so doing we are indeed reducing combustion of organic material. This is very noble and the idea appeals so much to me. The way dumb people misinterpreted it though was feeble.

I did wake up in the right side of the bed today. Maybe I got so carried by the Earth hour last night, I woke up with a hangover of it. I do not want to profess myself as one of those working hard for Mother Earth. I do not deserve the honor, but I go green in my own little ways. I ate my hearty breakfast at 8 and viewed the weekend news review from both CNN and BBC. Later today I am supposed to do some house cleaning for my nephew's birthday bash on April 1. I decided to do the cleaning and preparation earlier. My mom asked me to even change the curtains which I willingly obliged. Before, I hated this work so much. I just didn't have the patience to string those frilly drapes into their respective rods. I finished before lunch. I was still able to take a shower before I prepared my favorite fish omelet.

I love my day today for whatever reason, I don't know. I just feel so contented with how everything goes today. I slept last night without thinking anything of what would I do or what would happen today. I slept peacefully contented with how life was so far yesterday. Although there were some glitches due to how dumb and insensitive others were, but as reality bites I could not do more than accept the fact that life indeed is complex, hard to understand. I should not be affected anymore by how others are around me. I should learn how to live with their follies and insensitivity. Life with me just have to go on. I must have to move on with life, however dumb it can be, however hard it can still get.

BASER INSTINCTS, RATIONAL SELF & TRANSCENDENT BEING

Id, Ego, Superego and What Will You Do, Where Will You Go?

Humans are purportedly the most intelligent animals. They are endowed with a brain more complex than the rest of all the vertebrates. Theirs is a complex thinking cap that is very much capable of abstract functions, such as analysis and judgment. Man's brain may not be the biggest nor the heaviest but its capabilities are beyond what he himself can imagine. Man's brain is capable of complex calculations. It is capable of total recall of events that have happened long in the past. It is capable of making a choice, deciding which action to pursue for his own safety and survival. Sadly, it is also this same brain that gives man most of his problems today.

One of the most fascinating study of the brain and its function is Sigmund Freud's psychosexual theory of human development. Although this theory has been fraught with too much controversy, some even bordering into the absurd, it is indeed able to explain man's very peculiar psychosexual behavior. His ideas of id, ego and superego that were landmarks of the different psychosexual stages of development-oral, phallic and anal-can very well explain most of man's adult sexual behavior. Lack of knowledge of this highly controversial theory explains some of man's sexual deviancies.

Two of the most challenging problems I faced today is brought about by ignorance to Freud's psychosexual theory of human development. One of our senior graduating students got pregnant by another graduating student. This is a very sad case of penis envy gone awry. Another problem is the case of a young freshman whose misplaced Electra complex caused a school bus driver his future, the future of his children and the future of our young student. All these two cases are tainted with much ignorance to man's sexuality, his sexual development and how his sexuality affects his behavior as he grows to adulthood.

Our senior student who got pregnant was, sadly before, a very promising student. She was born out of wedlock. Freud said that she must have been longing for a father figure. Her penis envy intensified so much and blamed her mother for her father's absence. She would have thought that her only source of happiness and security, which is the father, was purposely taken away from her as a punishment for the father leaving the mother. The boy is troubled by his helplessness in fending off his father from his mother. He is the eldest in a brood of four, and felt it was his duty to protect the mother (Oedipal complex) from the onslaught of the father who is the main cause of his castration anxiety. Both their needs complement each other. Both their unresolved conflicts find ultimate resolution in each other's company.

I do not expect for a school bus driver to know his Freudian psychosexual theory of development. This is the very mistake for his ruining everyone's future-his own, his children's and our student's. She is a beautiful girl, more mature than her age. She is the third in a brood of five consisting of two older brothers and two younger sisters. She is the proverbial middle child-confused of where she stands and what is supposed to be her role. Her father works abroad. When the older brothers was still studying in high school, the mother was often with them, preparing usually their lunch. When both boys went to the city to pursue college studies, the mother's attention got divided, and unfortunately was mistaken by the middle sister as the mother more favoring, loving the older boys. This second case sadly portrays how life may suddenly be overturned simply by a misperceived Electra complex that has intensified so much penis envy.

The damage has been done. It can no longer be repaired like brand new. Worse, emotional collapse has had happened simply but sadly because of the lack of understanding of how we, humans, behave based on the dictates of our baser instincts, our rational self and our transcendent being. Unfortunately, the Freudian theory cannot be taught with much understanding among high school students nor can it be taught among grade schoolers without sounding so sexually perverted. One still has to go to college to know Freud, but if only one listened well to his Psychology professor. A lot has not finished high school. A lot has not gone to college. Will there still be a lot of future and hopes to be broken? So sad...sadly...so sad...

AS GOOD AS A CLIMAX IT HAS BEEN

Plaque of Appreciation and Gratitude

Yesterday, March 25, was our high school graduation day. It was one of my best graduation ceremonies so far. For quite a time, parents have always been our problem during graduations. Whatever caution is thrown in the air for them not to keep on standing and getting in and out of the graduation hall, the just don't listen. Yesterday, however, was different. They were all behaved. Another thing that we accomplished with our graduation yesterday was the phasing of the entire program. It did not take us beyond couple of hours to finish everything. It was indeed a feat. Lastly and the most exciting was that I was awarded a plaque of appreciation and gratitude for my 10 years of efficient, unselfish and committed service to the school (as how the plaque reads).

It has been ten years already since I first taught in school. I was a substitute teacher then for Biology and Chemistry. My best friend who taught both subjects got married. When she returned, I got to teach Computer subjects and Technology and Livelihood Education. My principal later on discovered that I can speak and write in English quite well. The next year and until now, I teach senior English. I co-authored our English IV curriculum used in all our schools throughout the country. I am a Science major though, but I have always been asked to facilitate seminars for non-English subjects taught in English. I find this flattering, and I am just thankful that I read so much before and that I listened well to my Literature professors when I was in college.

Through a scholarship, I was able to finish my master's degree in educational leadership in one of the most prestigious teacher-training schools of the country. I became the youngest principal among the fourteen schools in the region, and one of the select few male principals. I have been a principal for three years now. I still have to accomplish so many things though before I can say that I am a good instructional leader. In fact, this year, is so frustrating for me that I have tendered my resignation last Feb. 23. It was disapproved but at least I made known to my employers that I have plans of not staying long with them. I just do not want to leave the school hurting others' feelings. Should they desire for me to serve them for yet another year, then so be it. Definitely, however, the students should be expecting a different me next academic year.

Despite everything that has happened, I still would like to believe that I deserved the award that I got. I may have been very angry this year, I may have hurt students even physically, and I may have neglected some of my duties, however, I still believed that the award was well-deserved. I would like to believe that before my ninth year in service, it was my most effective year as an instructional leader. I am only as effective as my bosses are. I am only as effective as my teachers are efficient. I am only as effective as my students are cooperative and know where they stand with regards to education as a whole. When any of these factors are out of sync and are not in harmony with how I feel and perceive things and how I really move with these people, I am as ineffective as they are.

I should have been out of school and out of work today if the school has accepted my resignation effective March 23. As the days unfold to weeks and then to months, I have slowly gotten back into focus. I still have the desire to rest from teaching next year; looking at the incoming seniors though has given me a lot of reasons to stay for another year. The plaque of appreciation and gratitude that I have is a mute witness of how much I have sacrificed for the school. My sacrifices may have gone unappreciated by my students, but that my employer has seen my selfless efforts and have me rewarded is a reason enough for me to serve the school but for one more year only as of now. I will really have to take things one year at a time.

MY GOATEE AND MOUSTACHE WITH A SOUL PATCH

The Barber Makes Me Street-Wiser that Ever


We're not definitely a hirsute clan, but men in the family do grow body hair faster than others. Both my paternal and maternal great grandfathers are of Spanish descent. Most of us men have patrician noses, wide foreheads (not patterned baldness) and bearded faces. I have two other brothers. I am not the most hairy. I am the more hairy. Our youngest bother is the most hairy of us three. Hair grooming has never been my problem though. I oftentimes sport a cropped hair. What bothered me so much is my facial hair.

I am always bothered by how much taking care of facial hair has taken so much of my time. Unfortunately, I happened to own a face so fertile for facial hair growth. From a clean-shaven face, it only takes a couple of days for stubble to become so irritating. I have tried an electric shaver, naked disposable blades and the newer high tech razors. I like razorblades the most though. It is the most convenient and efficient option for me. Electric shavers are not just my taste. They do not seem to be able to cut anything at all. Lately, however, I decided to grow my facial hair and leave it as is.

Because I got so tired of shaving every day, I decided to leave my facial hair. I just let the hair grow until such time that I really need to style it though. Obviously, I just don't have it grow wayward but following a particular style. I grow a moustache and a goatee with a soul patch. I keep all of them neat and cropped too. Just recently though, I have asked help from my friend barber to trim my goatee, moustache and soul patch the way he did his. My barber also sports a goatee and moustache with a soul patch. His, however, is a lot more controlled and looks cleaner than what I have. Well, he should know better.

My barber who crops my hair regularly also does my facial hair now. Today I just got back from him. I had my hair cropped shorter again and had my facial hair trimmed-moustache, goatee and patch. I also happened to be my barber's son's godfather. Whenever I have my hair (head and face) done, I also got to talk about almost anything. My barber just happens to know so much-from the grapevine or off the vineyard. This simple and mundane act of cutting hair though has become so much of a learning experience for me; hence, I always look forward on my next visit.

What used to be such a bore and tiring task has now become so interesting to me. It is not because I do not do my facial hair anymore now. I still do my daily maintenance shave. It's simply just that what I thought before as so mundane a task as shaving my facial hair has now become a learning experience for me. Being an educator, it is in the barbershop today that I learn how poorly our public elementary graduates are doing in high school. He asked me from where are our top graduates this year. I told him that they are not also graduates of our public elementary school. They are from other towns not from where we are and where we live. Very interesting indeed according to him.

I was shocked to also hear from him today that a hair treatment and rebond cost around $100. I cannot imagine myself spending so much money. No, it's not just my cup of tea to spend that ridiculousy big amount to have my hair look so lifeless that it does not bounce with movement. I was troubled before by my facial hair, but lately I have realized that getting out to meet people such as my friendly barber was worth all the trouble. Today I sport a nice beard which has always been the envy of some of my college students. Thanks to my barber kumpare. Today also I learn that a barbershop is a lab for life. I just have my facial hair done. I did not only come out more handsome than before but a lot street-wiser than ever.

FEELS LIKE I'M IN HEAVEN

The Birthing of the Culture of Appreciation

To teach another thoroughly is the best way to learn for yourself

- Tyron Edwards

I have been very clear that this year I am so tired teaching and administering the school. There are so many reasons why, some of them you may have known. I have also made known that I moonlight as a college teacher in a local university just a stone's throw from my high school. I thought before that I was so tired at the end of the day because I still had classes until eight in the evening. This has been going on in my mind that for the next academic year I have decided that I can only be one of the three. I cannot be all the principal, high school teacher and a university professor. I want to concentrate in college, so I filed my resignation last February 23.

As per labor laws, my resignation would have taken effect today, March 23. But until today I have been running here and there doing all three - principal, teacher and professor. Being the high school principal, I have to see today that everything will be ready for Wednesday, our scheduled graduation day. I have delegated though almost every work there is to be done. We had our practice of the graduation ceremony at the cultural and sports complex today. Everything went well except for some minor voice problem with the Alma Mater song. In the afternoon, I attended the School Board meeting with the Mayor. I was tired, dead tired.

The university finals will be this coming Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday. I have exams for all these days. Definitely, I will not be able to administer my final exam for Eng 2 on Wednesday. I am available though for both my Educ 107 and Ed Tech 2. Luckily, I already have prepared all my test papers for the three courses. Today, I reviewed my freshmen English 2 class. In the course of our review, somebody muttered that until today she is still confuse with the basics in English grammar. I have been telling them though that you cannot be an overnight genius for English grammar. This they have understood. What made my day was when somebody added that she has learned so many things new about the language with me.

I decided to teach because I want others to learn too what I have learned before. I want to share what I know. I was humbled by the comment. With this class, I have always been absent for unfortunately sometimes my schedule was just really in conflict with some of my duties in high school. In as much as I would like to arrange for special classes, we could not seem to agree on which day and on what time. To compensate for my absence, every time I am present I really exert much effort for them to understand the course-Writing in the Discipline. I love writing. I have been writing ever since I knew my alphabet. Writing comes as second nature to me.

What I have taught these students cannot be found in one single book. I have taught them almost twenty years of my writing experience and training. I made them realize that the skill of writing in whatever form can be learned and that it can be learned with ease and with much fun. In my heart I knew I have not done anything extraordinary. I just did what I have to do, what I think must be done for them to learn. I was not expecting that to my college students it was so much. They were so thankful of everything. Unfortunately, in high school I never heard of such sincere appreciation of my labor. Remember, this I think before was what our high school students lack-the appreciation of the work of their teachers. In a more than unexpected place, I got what I have long expected from the students who ought to have appreciated more my effort.

TO CANLAWILAO...AGAIN AND WITH LOVE

Great Expectation and Summer Anticipation

Definitely, it's summer already. After I've taken my shower and prepared for my class in the local college, I was drenched with sweat, I had to put the air conditioning system into full blast. I just can't help but feel so uncomfortable even early in the morning. To say the sun has really made its hot presence is an understatement. It burns. Burn, baby, burn! As I was traveling for school today, my skin tingled as the sun hit me. The warmth though becomes ordinary as the days of summer unfold. It may even be so addictive, that before I purposely basked under the summer sun mountain biking to my heart's content.

I will have my early summer retreat though. I am planning of spending my last two days of March in a log cabin in the mountains. This summer vacation house is owned by my sister's friend. It is located roughly 15 km from the town center, way up the mountains. My town is the summer capital of the province, so I expect that the weather up there definitely is a lot cooler than the rest. It is a log cabin nestled amidst tall pines and year-old tree ferns. It is rustic with an air of country mystic. One part of the house is made of glass panelling overlooking tall evergreens providing shade to lambs. The place always blows me away. This will be my third back there, rest as if the world stops spinning frozen with time.

The first time I was there, I marveled so much in the cabin's external architecture. Everything is made of either log or wood. With much creative expertise, a lattice made of both decorates the front wall of the house, welcoming every tired sojourner. The front garden teems with exotic flowers that bloom only in temperatures less than 10 degrees Celsius. There are anthuriums of so many colors for one's eyes to feast on. Inside the cabin is as quaint as its exterior - log benches in a dining table, couches with soft feathery covers and the stone fire place. Temperatures at dusk usually fall below 5 degrees that the warmth glow of burning fire helps. The place is really worth coming back for more.

The anticipation of going back is killing me, so to say. I just do not know what to expect after almost three years. There can be so many changes done on the cabin, but I hope everything is for good. I expect to see again the collection of dead branches. I hope the millionaire's bushes are in bloom. The sprigs carrying blue blooms are what I like best. I will also be very happy if the friendly German shepherds and Rottweilers will still be wagging their tails for me. I love dogs. They are friends I can always rely on. The hammock hanging between two tree ferns, I hope will still be there. The gazebo, the secret pathway at the back, the looming pines by the kitchen, the uniformly bottled spices neatly arranged in the cupboard...so many things, not to mention the friendly ghost that keep watch the house from occasional teenagers looking for adventure.

I have noticed lately that I have not been so angry anymore. I may have been tired of looking so childishly foolish. Well, this is good. However, I am now more inclined to think that I am a lot happier because of these great expectations - a summer retreat in a log cabin nestled in the valley of pines with so many things inside and outside that can overwhelm my senses. I am tired and the idea of a blissful rest away from the nightmares of modern civilization even for a couple of days sounds so appealing. It has mellowed me down. I am the angry teacher no more. How stupid I was before not being able to think that an angry teacher's antidote is plain and simple thought of a great expectation - a sense of focus of where life may lead. Dwelling on what has been simply causes much more pain...and the vicious cycle of anger starts again.

WHO WANTS TO BE A SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE?

Never Are We the Same Again

I don't dig in melodramas but for some reasons I like Danny Boyle's Slumdog Millionaire. I was able to borrow a pirated DVD copy of the movie from my fellow English teacher . He said it was good. I knew his taste for movies, so I believed him. I invited my mother to sit with me throughout the movie. She likes melodramas, and several comments I have read about the movie is that indeed it is melodramatic replete with too many to be possible coincidences, that to some critics, the movie does not deserve the Oscars it amassed. Eight out of ten is more than good. I wanted to judge myself, so I watched the movie.

From the very start, I knew I would like the story-telling technique. Flashbacks just fascinate me. I am not into straight forward narratives. They are so predictable and the entire story becomes so boring. The sharp editing that sometimes confuses me makes me think more about the plot of the movie rather than just wait as everything unfolds. The cinematography is superb, though it showed a lot of what is not beautiful of India. However, because of the playful use of angles, colors and light, each scene crucial to the weaving of the drama comes out too real to me. I was able to relate with Jamal's angst, Salim's drive and Latika's innocence. Every technical aspect of the movie contributes not to the ugliness of poverty but to the mystic of India for which she is known for.

I pity Dev Patel's Jamal. His eyes, windows to the soul, clearly show the pain he has been through. I hate Anil Kapoor's show hosting not because he is not good at it but because he is just so good at making Jamal look like the slumdog that he was before. The violent Madhur Mittal's Salim is so believable it betrays his every good intention for his younger brother Jamal. Freida Pinto's Latika is so innocent I could not imagine how she could have survived Javed. All these excellent thespians together get me sucked to the awesome powerlessness of poverty which ironically makes the movie more interesting to watch. How were these different characters able to transcend material dearth with only hope, love and fate guiding them through life?

The story to some may be so melodramatic but surprisingly I was drawn to its more than human appeal. I hate melodramas but I hate more myself for being drawn to Slumdog Millionaire which clearly is melodramatic. I was so glued to every scene in the movie because each indeed is a mirror image of who we all are as people, suffering humans, celebrating joy and the triumph over life's seemingly endless assault of problems. I love so much the redeeming value of the story - how hope vanquishes the impossible, how love conquers all. I may now be a disciple of melodrama, but only because of this Simon Beaufoy's superb adaptation to screen of Vikas Swarup's rags to rajah novel.

I am very hard to please especially with movies. Though my taste ranges from the most basic (animations) to the most complex (epic adaptations), I sometimes find myself so engrossed with movies that surprises me even. From the movie reviews I read and heard, I thought I would never like Slumdog Millionaire. Because of superb story-telling, attention to cinematic details, excellent casting and adaptation, I love the movie because of all these and its redeeming value. In judging for the merits of movies I watch, I always go for how much I have changed, how much I have grown as a person. I love Slumdog Millionaire simply because as the movie ended I was never the same again.

ID, EGO AND THE GAME OF BASEBALL

How Guilt Consumes the Egomaniac

Peltier in Prison Writings wrote that guilt has a thousand voices, all of them lies. I do not know if I agree to this with all my heart. I feel guilty for being absent from my classes in the university where I moonlight as a college professor. I teach education courses to soon-to-be teachers like me, and I think what I did was not a very good example to my students. I was absent for almost two weeks because I was very busy with my high school duties. Our graduation is already next week. There were just so many paper works to be accomplished. The faculty room was busy too preparing for the graduation ceremony and program. I told my students I was absent, plain and simple, because I had so many things to do and yet I had so little time to accomplish them.

I was not lying and this was not what I was guilty of. I was all embarrassed by the fact that I might have been misconstrued as somebody irresponsibly lazy. If I have too many work to do, too many concerns to attend to in high school, then why in the world did I take additional teaching loads in college? My college students might have think of this, but I knew them much better to be this shallow. How about the other students not under me? Now, I'm becoming more paranoid. Not that it would matter so much, but I just do not want people to misjudge me. I have been misjudged countless of times by people who were not as tactful as they should be. It was indeed very embarrassing every time.

It was very embarrassing every time, not on my part but on the other person's part. When I have not done anything wrong, when I have nothing to be guilty of, I tend to be so frank with my thoughts and words. Whoever wrongly judges me, surely gets my wrath, and I am so good at belittling and berating people I am irritated with. I compare everything to playing baseball. I must always have the first base, the first say, so I will arrive first in the home base, so I will have the last say too. I hate people who do not think first before they open their mouths. They always get my ire.

This is the egomaniac in me speaking. Because I do not judge people, I do not also want to be judged, much more, misjudged. The college students under me were happy to see me back. I would like to believe that they see me as their older brother, not just their mentor. I tried hard to be one of the best teachers they have. Mostly what I had taught them were based on my ten years experience as a teacher. I have always been candid in saying that there are just things a teacher experiences later in his work that have not been written yet in the book. For a teacher, I told them that the best teacher is experience. What I have been telling them were born out of my passion to learn more about my students, their dreams, their eccentricities, and the things that make them cry.

I am not guilty because I was absent for quite a long time. I was embarrassed though thinking of what other people might have been thinking about me. This is paranoia and I think I just have to let go of this. When I first saw some of my students today, all this guilt, all this paranoia and everything in between were all unfounded. I was just as happy and relieved seeing my students welcome me back. My discussion with them went on very smoothly. It would be the last for this semester. As I am blogging though, I realize that what was actually bothering me was not the guilt but rather I was just too proud to accept reality that people may not have thought me as perfect as they would have liked me to be. Here comes back the egomaniac freak prick!

THE RAPE OF FARCE

Lance Corporal Daniel Smith

When the news broke that a teenage girl was gang raped by US servicemen that befriended her in a bar, I told myself, "Well it was her fault." If ever there was no sign of violence and that she willingly rode with them inside a van where she was purportedly raped, then it was her fault. Why in the world would she go out with these obviously burly men she just met in a bar? Any girl trying hard to be a lady will not ever dare engage in deeper conversation with men she has just met, much more ride with them in the middle of the night inside a close van. Nicole, as she has fondly been known ever since, is definitely not a lady.

Lance Corporal Daniel Smith was convicted of raping Nicole more than a year ago. For few hours of giving in to his baser instincts, he was made to realize the foolishness of his decision only when inside the cold city jail. There was so much outrage afterwards. Women's group claimed triumphant. Some government officials viewed everything a threat to the VFA. I pitied Smith because he himself was a victim too tried in a country whose judicial system is as rotten as her leaders. I pitied Nicole because she herself became prey of her own foolishness and the anger of marginalized groups promoting the cause of women.

Just two days ago, however, Nicole recanted everything about the alleged rape. Through a letter she asked her mother to give to her lawyer, she wrote that she was tired of how slow the case was moving and that she no longer was sure if she was indeed raped or was it her own undoing of flirting with the men that led to her being gang raped. Our memory indeed is so bad that after a year or so, we can no longer remember how savagely degrading we were raped or how blissfully satisfying was it climaxing with four or so sex-crazed US servicemen. How quaintly foolish a statement this is. From the very start, I knew it was Nicole who was guilty and not those sex hungry burly young men out of sea for just few hours of fun.

For these turn of events, a lot speculated that Nicole was bribed. She allegedly has received a sizable amount of money bigger than any slut's boobs and, surprise of all surprises, she is now in the land of spunk and honey, in the land of men who made her their spigots' end. What a crazy unfolding of plot this has become. What a sad twist of fate for the women's group. What a welcome news to Daniel Smith's throng of crazy fans. What a blow to our already rotten judicial system. What a farce! The joke of all comedies, making our courts look like small-time moro-moro stages.

If Nicole was really true to the cause she had been fighting ever since, she should not have done this comedy of errors. If she was indeed gang raped, no amount of money could ever dissuade her out of the case. If she was indeed violated, however slow her case was moving on could not have caused her to recant what she told the court then under oath. If everything she said was true, and that she was indeed gang raped, then her action definitely was sending a very wrong message about women in general. I was never all praises to her when this hullabaloo started. Deep within I knew something was out of picture, not in sync with the whole song Nicole was singing.

A lesson or two may be learned from this comedy. A young girl's mind that sets in between a slutty pair of ears is changeable, and unfortunately holds only a few memory cells. She may be gang raped but for a few dollars more, she will forget everything and confuses rape with mere child frolic. Her cerebral folds are almost indistinct with apparently just a smear of gray matter. Another very important lesson to bear in mind is that when a man's brain is allowed to sit in between his legs, expect for a catastrophic foreplay that will have its climax inside a stone cold jail. This case may not go down in the annals of our rotten judicial system. Definitely though, this is no equal to even Shakespeare's Comedy of Errors.

FOOT FETISH I AM NOT

Growing Older, Getting Smarter Though

I am not a foot fetish and never was I before. Today, however, I am going to talk about my right foot and both my brains. In my 5 foot 9 inch and 180+ pound frame, both my feet get a mighty hell of beating every day. My right foot started hurting about three years ago. I have noticed before that after long hours of continuously standing, being a teacher, at the end of the day I usually got a very sore right heel. Our PE teacher has already commented on this that I might have been suffering from traumatic arthritis. I never thought of that before. Arthritis is a degenerative disease, and I never thought of myself too old to suffer from one being just 35 then.

I am not into contact sports - heavy on running nor on jumping. I though weight trained a lot regularly before my right foot started hurting me. I used to jog too for roughly a couple of hours either outdoors or stationary, but I have never felt pain before in both my feet. After I was hospitalized last November 2007 for acute gastritis, I lost a lot of weight. I felt light then. Due to work pressures, however, I started gaining back weight and failed to exercise regularly as I did before. Then I started feeling pain on my right foot. It was usually accompanied by the usual signs of inflammation. There was usually swelling around the Achilles tendon insertion. In addition to tenderness, the swollen part usually felt warm. It often made walking very painful.

I have come into terms that I am not growing any younger anymore. The right foot pain I am suffering is an indication of this. I plan to get back in good shape again during school break. I have to plan this well and more scientifically. I loss weight faster than I get angry (again), so getting back into shape will never be a problem. I miss so much the days before when I have all the time to go to the gym and sweat it out all my day's frustrations, problems and concerns. The adrenaline rush which usually continued the next day just kept me going on and made me face another day with always new-found excitement. It was a different kind of high.

My gaining of significant pounds of weight has contributed to my foot problem. This is true since my almost 180+ lb frame is carried only by my two calcaneus bones, and the soft tissues surrounding this bone on each foot have also absorbed the blunt of my weight. When swollen and in pain, I usually did a warm compress over the affected area, nothing more. I tended to be conservative with its management. I have never resorted to oral anti-inflammatory nor analgesics to help ease the swelling and the pain. I have also been more cautious wearing again my dark brown Marlboro suede shoes. I often got the pain and the swelling after wearing the pair.

The pain in my right foot, however, has not in anyway affected the way I think about life. I have never ever been smarter with life than I am today. Yes, I am growing not any younger anymore but I have also grown a lot smarter, most specially with how I deal with people. Before I have so much difficulty saying "No". I just could not refuse any request. I just could not turn down any call for trivial help. I just simply could not say "No". Not anymore today, however. I don't want to say that this has anything to do with the pain in my right foot, but I have congratulated myself for this new-found courage. I may not be able to walk straight whenever my right foot is in pain, but definitely today I can look at anybody straight and say "No".

USAPANG LALAKI, USAPANG MATINO

That Damn Straw and Tupperware

It did not come to my attention that after I just gave a lengthy homily about good manners to one sophomore section, three boys figured out in a brawl at the canteen, simply because of a drinking straw. While looking somewhere for a place to sit, one student inserted a straw on another one's soda pop. Not able to see who did it, Christian started accusing Allan of the prank and started a litany of the latter's jokes played on him. The classmates thought everything was all right until they were back in the classroom when suddenly Allan hit Christian with a Tupperware on the face. Christian hit Allan back, causing a clean slit of skin underneath the latter's lower lid.

I don't want to be angry anymore. I was just not able to imagine before how tiring was it to be always angry. I maintained my cool, but I really have decided to confront back these young men. I got inside the classroom and everyone was so silent I could hear my own breathing. I started back with the vision of the institution - who we are, where we are going and how are we going to get there. I strongly believe that they must have to understand this very well. If the students know what our dream is for each one of them, they will definitely journey with us to get there. I have always been told that I can explain well our vision-mission, I hoped I did justice this morning.

You may have drawn a very bad image of me as a teacher and instructional leader after what I have been ranting for several days now. Actually I am a good teacher. I am just frustrated with some of our students this year, mostly the seniors. After four years with us, they did not seem to have understood the vision-mission of the school. I don't know, but today I just did not want to be angry anymore. I got into a heart to heart talk with the sophomores. I made them understand that should I decide to continue teaching next school year, I need them to really help make my stay a lot easier and more productive.

After delivering my homily, I requested the ladies to step out. I just need to have a man to man talk with the remaining gentlemen. I congratulated myself for maintaining my cool. Should I have been so angry again, I knew I would have lost face and the respect of these young men. To loosen up a bit, I told them that about twenty years ago, I was also the typical teenager that they are today. I was naughty too and have also pulled quite a number of pranks with my friends. However, I added that what set me differently before from them today was the idea that I knew where I stood before with regards to the school, to my teachers, my classmates and my parents. I have never been the problem before; I have always been part of the solution.

I though still have a thin streak of goodness in me. I can always forgive faster than I can get angry. It did happen today. I was able to have a heart to heart, man to man talk with the sophomores. I need them to help me next school year. Despite how angry I can be, a lot of students still believe that deep within, I am good. Yup, they have always been correct. A lot of our parents too have put so much trust in me, in us and the whole school, that I owe it to them to be the best teacher I can be, I can muster. Before everyhting else though, I need our sophomore students to exorcise the hell out of me. Resurrect me!

Usapang lalaki, usapang matino...

FREUDIAN SLIP FROM JOCELLE'S LIP

Of Inverted Nipples, Breastfeeding and Hernia

I don't know but I feel happy today. Was it because I finished all our graduation papers to be submitted to the DepEd? Partly, because indeed that was one hell of a feat. I think it was more because I finished my final exam for computer programming. I was very happy because I was sure it would be very difficult for my students. Remember what I told you - that I enjoy tormenting people. I love to see my students suffer. I know I am unkind and I don't deserve to be a teacher. Sadly, I have been awarded thrice already as an outstanding teacher and one more is coming come March 25. See, I am not just sadistic. I am also egomaniac...but you have been warned, so don't blame me.

I had a speaking engagement today among Grade VI graduating students. I was invited by their principal who happens to be a close friend. Before I left, I dropped by one of my junior classes to remind them to submit their compilation of programming problems. As my parting message to the group, I reminded the girls not to get their bubbles busted this school break. I knew this would open more questions of the bees, the birds and how both sting. I always treat questions of this nature clinically without hint of malice. Why should I? There is nothing supposed to be malicious with life and how it all began.

Somebody asked a question about self breast examination which I gamely answered with all demonstration obviously to myself. No, don't get me wrong. I did not get naked. I just demonstrated the arm position and the movement of the examining hand. I am good at this and if you ask why? I am a medical doctor too and I must have been the most egotist teacher from hell you've ever heard of. How can a mother with inverted nipples breastfeed her baby? I answered that the mother should have prepared well both nipples during her pregnancy. As I finished with my answer, I heard a most likely comment coming from the most unlikely student at the back.

Then it would have been so arousing on the mother for the father to prepare well the inverted nipple - so went the comment from a small boy who according to his classmates has a hearty appetite for Internet pornography. I told him, it was not the intention of the father to arouse the mother and the mother has no intention whatsoever of being aroused. I told the class that the father indeed can suckle the mother to bring out the inverted nipple - a very clinical advice which was sadly taken out of context because of Freudian slip. Well, I have so much fun taunting, tormenting Jocelle for good reasons. Sadly, he learned human sexuality wrongly from the Internet.

I am in favor of teaching reproductive health and sex education among students. There is a great need for this information among many teenagers today. However, the teaching of this subject should be done by somebody who can be very clinical in his approach; therefore, he is comfortable with talking about the penis (not the bird), the clitoris (the flower?) and coitus (the mighty bubble sting). But these should not be all. Human sexuality goes beyond the copulatory organs but also encompasses the healthy relationship that exists between men and women, husbands and wives.

I left for my speaking enagagement with the Grade VI students very sad. I cannot just imagine (for the second time) how naive teeagers are today regarding human sexuality and sex. If not for the Freudian slip from Jocelle's tight lip, I could not have even imagined that not only the ladies are so uninformed about the bees, the birds and how both sting (again?) but the gentlemen too. Unfortunately, the men always learn it from the wrong source; thus, they are usually misinformed, misguided and grew up to be less than perfect husbands and fathers. So pathetic that I was tempted to talk about sex with the Grade VI pupils when I arrived. Ironically, I was to talk about modesty and sexual reservation. What a life! I even forgot somebody asked about inguinal hernia.

LIVIN' LA VIDA LOCA

Taking My Much Needed Sabbatical

With my right heel still swollen and aching, I reviewed the results of our deliberation of honors yesterday. It took me about a couple of hours to finish one year level. There are six supporting papers per year level. I have to study each one and compare all six if the data are consistent. It just have to be this way. It was so tiring but I did it for integrity, credibility and validity. After lunch, I decided to rest, watch some TV shows. Most of the time, I bring home school work. These always occupy my entire weekend. Most often, I do not have weekend rest at all. I work 24/7.

It was Ricky Martin's time to share his life story in Bio Channel. His is one hell of a success story, but sometime in 2004, he got tired of everything. Before, he was so motivated by the applause, the awards, and the affirmation from his colleagues on how good he was with his craft. Few years, however, he noticed that performing even in front of 30,000 screaming fans was a bore. He decided to take a sabbatical and went home to Puerto Rico. For some years he rested and refocused his priorities in life. It was during these years that he became the UN ambassador for women trafficking, which is today, the cause he is fighting for.

I am now more convinced that I do really need a leave from work too. I have been working hard for ten straight years in school. I must have worked so hard because in just a short span of time I went from being a classroom teacher to, now, the high school principal. I loved the applause then telling me how good I was as a teacher. I appreciated the trust from my administrators appointing me the academic coordinator then the principal. I was applauded, I was appreciated and I was duly rewarded for my hard work. But things just became a bore. I am so tired already.

I am so tired that it always takes me so much effort just to wake up early in the morning to prepare for school. I was not like this before. I usually left home at 6:30a.m. Now, sometimes I even arrived late. I prepared all my daily lesson plans then on the Saturday before the next week. Today, I do it mostly on the night before, compromising mastery of content. I just could not muster anymore all the motivation to prepare well my lessons. Partly, my students too have become so demoralizing that I lost all the drive to prepare well for school.

I am going loco I know anytime so soon. All that I am feeling now, all that I have experienced lately are telltale symptoms of depression. I do not know what is happening to me. One time I am so elated, so motivated that I can accomplish so many things. However, this does not usually last long because for just a very trivial matter, I can go wildly irrational with my behavior. I am angrier today than before that I have often hurt myself because of too much violence when angry. Whenever I am angry today, I want to release my pent-up emotions destroying, hurting whatever, whoever comes my way.

She'll make you take your clothes off and go dancing in the rain. She'll make you live her crazy life but she'll take away your pain, like a bullet to your brain. Come on!

BITTER LOSERS, SOUR FACES, UGLY MANNERS

Why Can't We Just Lose for Once

With my right heel partly swollen, I slowly ambled my way to school today. We had a very important matter to do - deliberate for the honor students. Usually deliberation for honor students took us the whole day to accomplish. There are just so many things to do to ensure the validity and integrity of the result. The top graduates and students for a particular school year are chosen based on a very complex looking yet simple procedure. The weighted average for all subjects are ranked and the respective ranks are multiplied by 70% to get the weighted rank. The other 30% comes from the weighted rank for extra-curricular activities. It is in this portion that some students think the teachers and the school become unfair.

One basis for extra-curricular activities is participation of the students to other academic work outside the school. Any travel away from the school for academic purposes guarantees the student points for extra-curricular activities. However, not all students vying for honor can be sent for outside events of academic nature. There are some loose criteria we have adopted in choosing who to send out. First, the student should be intelligent enough to understand the task in hand and the responsibility he has after doing such. Second, he should have consistently exhibited a promising leadership potential, or much better, he is already a good student leader. Third, he should have led a student life worth emulating because he is a person of integrity, modesty and of faith. Fourth, he should be physically pleasing or better, attractive.

More often, the better looking and intelligent students are usually sent out of the school to represent the latter for any academic endeavour. The selection may sometimes be subjective but the teachers and the school tried hard to rid the process of biases. I for one is fascinated so much with students who are sophisticated, good mannered and survivors. These three are what I am looking for in a person to consider her or him educated. With sophistication, you should be beautiful in appearance, in action and in word. Good manners come with intelligence, and both are needed to survive.

Points for extra-curricular activities matter so much in deciding for honor students. Therefore, points earned from travels related to academic work are also very important. Because not all candidates for honors can be sent out to travel for academic purposes, I am expecting that some students are complaining. However, if these students are really educated, they should have been more intelligent and better-mannered to think whether they qualify for the task to be done. More often, what prevents us from sending a student outside the school are the behavior and leadership potentials. If the student's behavior does not live up to the image of the school and if his leadership potential fails dismally in comparison with others, then he has to stay.

Well, we just cannot please everyone. Obviously, some may find the ranking of honors this year questionable to their standards. We always welcome, though, questions and clarifications as to how the honor system was done. We would like to believe that we have done our best to maintain the sanctity and integrity of the entire process. We have nothing to hide. It's just that, unfortunately, we cannot cater to everyone's whims. More unfortunately, I prefer so much honor students who are beautiful and well-mannered. Most unfortunately, only a few qualified this year. Bitter losers, sour faces, ugly manners.

VOYEURISTIC DELIGHT THROUGH A GLASS DOOR

I Am Intimidatingly Bad Today

Yesterday, we were visited by my Grade VI teacher. She was one of my best grade school teachers. She taught me English very well. She was also a disciplinarian. She did not care more the student but understanding the subject matter was her top priority. She was more subject rather than student centered teacher. But I had no regrets. I learned a lot from her and I grew to be a more responsible(?) person because of how she made us behave and conduct ourselves before.

On somewhat like a motherly joke, she told me that our students were not courteous. This did not come as a total surprise to me. I myself can vouch that most of our students lack courtesy. Coming from my former teacher, however, the comment left a sour aftertaste. Last year, she also visited and observed that our senior class was noisy. Two points or the lack of it, I do care. This may be a reflection on how bad I was as an instructional leader and school administrator. I would like to be sad, but I believed we have done our best.

So, I staged my early resurrection today - Friday the 13th of March. I become the resurrected teacher from hell this morning, and all of hell, thus, broke loose. No! Do not think I got back on my students because of my former teacher's comment. Only angels think of that, and I know you are not. My purpose was to make them realize what I have long been thinking about them. This time, however, and sadly, it took somebody from outside to affirm what I have told them already. Was I sad about everything? Nope, I felt vindicated that I was indeed right from the very start.

Before the morning ceremonies, I started my torment. Loudly blaring in the school's PA system, I announced what my favorite grade school teacher has just affirmed, that they, our students, lack good manners. I also added that because we have done so much and almost everything to instill upon them the manners and the conduct befitting an educated person, there could only be three reasons why they remained uncivilized brutes: 1) Their parents failed to teach them manners, 2) Their parents are setting the bad example, and 3) Their family is confused of what are good and what are bad manners. So sad...we have to throw the blame now back home.

As if my blaring torment fell on deaf ears, as I was sitting inside the faculty room, several students kept on getting back and forth inside the room without even having their presence acknowledged, much more asked permission if they be allowed to enter. This irked me so much that I reprimanded one girl student to her utter embarrassment. I liked the latter part so much. I improvised a sign of "No Entry" and hanged it on the faculty room door. To my voyeuristic delight, students just stopped dead by the glass door, instead of barged in, only to eavesdrop who were inside the room. Foolishly interesting!

I would like to laugh at how child-like I have reacted with the sad comment and the reactions of our students. I knew it did not help the problem. It rather made the problem worse. But it is human's sadistic nature to find so much delight in the torment of others. I felt so happy with what happen today. Could it be that indeed I was from hell before I got reincarnated (or should it be resurrected) as the good-altar-boy teacher? I knew I have violent, sadistic tendencies. I can control them; however, being elated by tormenting others, lately, were all my heart is craving for.

Welcome, Hellboy!

I AM THE RESURRECTED TEACHER FROM HELL

I Could Kill You Now!

Sometimes in the animal world, the most intimidating rules. The lion is not the biggest animal in the forest, but because the lion is the most intimidating, it is feared by all. In a pack of wolves, the alpha male is the most aggressively intimidating. It follows that the alpha male wolf dominates the pack. Intimidation has been the weapon of terrorists. We are afraid of these modern day bandits because of the terror they cause us to think and believe they are capable of doing. I was then a terrorist today because I intimidated my students.

Unlike real terrorists, I can be very real with my threats. I know it is wrong to verbally threaten students, but lately I have been doing that more often. I am not into violence even in words; however, I was so tired of talking to students who cannot seem to understand things when not threatened or intimidated. In one occasion, I foolishly showed them how I can be real with my threats when very angry. I punched one student on the chest. I waited for a complaint. Nothing came, but I would have welcomed one. That would have been the best excuse for me to retire from teaching.

I am now thinking I may have some sadistic tendencies. I like to hurt back people when I am pushed to the wall, and this does not only include verbally fighting back but also physically. This deviant desire may have been unconsciously satisfied by this group of students that we have who I think are masochists. They are not loving pain only but also they want to be socially different to be shunned by the greater majority. They love to misbehave and call attention to their misdemeanors. They may have attention deficit disorders, but when ADD becomes distracting and downright harmful to others, it is ADD no more but social psychopathy.

I pity these students. I threatened them once again today. I told the class some of them would not be accepted back next year. These students, however, should know who's in control of the situation. This is what they do not understand. They thought they were smarter, much better than the teachers. They did not know where they stood with us teachers. I added, that because my resignation was not accepted, I would be their teacher from hell next school year, handling either chemistry or computer programming. These two are definitely subjects to reckon with.

I will be their teacher from hell and I already told them I may kill one or two next year. I will morph into the maniacal persona they have longed to see. They will be experiencing an angrier me. They will be facing up against a much harder wall to crush. I will be louder next year. I will be more severe that they will know not what is coming. These are what they like. I might as well give in to their hearts' desires. Feed more my sadistic hunger and I will prove to them that I was never the good altar boy they thought me to be.

I can be the meekest angel, though, to people who know where they stand with me. I am not inherently bad. I just tend to blend with the people around me. Plant me in a room full of thorns, and I will make the thorniest rose look like a fragile orhid. Place me in a company of brutish beasts and I will rise worse than the demons nightmares ever have. I can, however, be the meekest of all God's lambs in the midst of sensible persons, in the company of good men, and around people who know where respective limits end.

I was so intimidating today. I was the lion outside my den. I was the alpha male wolf without a pack. I was the good-altar-boy principal no more. I am your nightmare. I will be your resurrected teacher from hell. I will kill... and I could even kill one now!

TRIPLE X - TXE BIG, TXE BOLD & TXE BEAUTIFUL

Prey on Me, Pray my Soul, Free my Spirit

I was not in school today. We did not have regular classes. Only the second year students were in school. We had the Year 2 National Achievement Test, and I was the chief examiner in one of the private schools three towns down south; thus, my day started earlier because the school was a 45-minute travel from my place. The weather was not so good. There was a heavy rain last night so the road was quite slippery. Driving was a bit difficult. The conduct of the test went smoothly. I finished at around quarter past two in the afternoon.

I was able to talk with one of the administrators in the school I was testing. She was my friend. I told her I have resigned but I added that the regional superintendent did not approve of my resignation. I though asked for a compromise, I went on, but still today I am bent on resigning. The reason my resignation was denied, she told me, was that I am still very much needed in the school. Indulge me because this is big. Feed my ego and nourish my animal desires for recognition. She just did that and it made me happy. I knew long before that I was and still today a big egomaniac id tripper.

Mine was a bold move though. I have always wanted to drop the bomb-resign-but I was not able to muster all the courage. I have so much respect of my immediate superiors that telling them I would resign, to me was a disrespect. Feed this ego tripping maniac. I felt so elated hearing what I have long waited to hear: that I was needed, I was wanted, I was revered, I was worshipped! What bold but foolish thoughts they have been. It got into my mind. It got into my system that going home I decided to celebrate. Feed my ego, nourish my animal instinct to reign supreme above all others. Triple B not X was my destination. I wanted to conquer the world. I have conquered the world...boldly, foolishly.

Up there in Bodo's is a beautiful xeriscape. Up there is the ultimate high for ego trippers. I enjoyed the sight so much. It was purely hedonistic hypnosis I don't want to wake up anymore. Feed my ego, nourish me, one big, boldly foolish egomaniac. Satisfied was my basest phallic instinct to selfish pleasure. I felt like the king of the world. My head ached but still I was the king of the world. I am the king of the world - one foolish, choleric id tripper. I am all ready to die now. I have pleasured myself, even death could not cheat. Die, you cheater. Feed my ego, starve my soul. Nourish the animal in me, prey on my spirit. Die, you egomaniac.

I am not big nor am I bold but life is beautiful. Life can still be beautiful. Starve me, feed my soul. Prey on me, free my spirit, pray for my soul - one egomaniac sad soul.

BIYAHENG LANGIT...NA SANA

Of Carrots and Sticks, Theories X, Y and Z

I was a public servant before. I used to be the executive officer of a social welfare program of the town. It was hard work but it was very rewarding. I got to meet my fellow townsmate from different places and from different walks of life. My experience with the program was very humbling. I learned a lot from the many people involved in it - the program members, the community volunteers, my immediate social welfare officer, and most especially from the mayor (of the town) who was the author of that special project which I headed. It was the mayor's leadership style that made me admire him most.

While I was riding on a bus to the city today, a former colleague who also headed one of the mayor's special projects got in. Usual pleasantries took place and I started our very long conversation by offering him the information of where I was going. Then it was my turn to ask him how he was and the program he headed. He said it was just alright; however, he missed the days when we were all under the former mayor before. (He is now the town vice-mayor.) The progress of his program or the lack of it was unlike before. A lot of troubles were hounding him and the program, whose success greatly depended in him.

The former mayor's vision for the municipality is to bring us not to heaven but closer to cityhood. By year 2020, he hoped our town to be a city already. My colleague and I were hired to lead special programs for the fruition of this dream. The first thing we liked about the former mayor was his vision, his prudence. He had the master plan for the town all too clear in his mind that whatever question was raised and wherever the discussion led, he always had ready answers and explanations for all of them.

Another thing that we liked about the former mayor was his being firm with his decisions, but only after a thorough consultation and study of all the possibilities and outcomes inherent to such decisions. He conducted monthly meetings with us before where we made progress reports on each program. Glitches were analyzed and the source of the problem was identified. Although his leadership style was both empowering and consultative, in the end after a close study and weighing of options, he still had the final say which to all of us was just fitting, he, being the lead executive officer.

He knew so well the town's cash flow. This is the third thing I liked about my former boss. Never has my program run out of its budget allocation nor has it gone beyond one. All was happy then. I was happy too and this made my work so rewarding. My big boss has not also left any good work unappreciated. He always complimented accomplishments however simple or small they might have been. This I like the most in him - he commands you to accomplish great things and he knows well when he sees one, and praises you for the job done well.

While traveling today, my colleague and I missed those days with our big boss. Definitely, the town then was on the right direction. With the former mayor at the driver's helm, the municipality's journey to becoming a city was before not a dream. It was a reality slowly unfolding. Biyaheng langit na. Everything was set. Everyone was game. Everywhere was nowhere a reflection of where we once before. Biyaheng langit na...sana.

A SAD BLIND WHO REFUSES TO SEE

Inspiration from a Most Unlikely Hero

Man has so many times proven that he can rise above adversities, that he can conquer the ends of the world, and that he can do what seemingly is impossible. Scott MacIntyre, who qualifies for the latest American Idol season, is legally blind from childhood. He is from Scottsdale, Arizona, very gifted - being able to finish college at 19 and then pursued and finished his master's degree in Performance Studies at Royal College of Music and Royal Holloway University of London. Though visually impaired, he plays the piano as well as he sings. He has a soothing baritone voice that betrays his real condition. His is a very hopeful story and I was inspired.

I'm not visually impaired. I have my both eyes intact; however, I wear prescription glasses...and I complain a lot about life. I do not know, but I seemed to have lost hope and the inspiration to move on and continue with life. Some said mine is a case of burnout. Others advised that I need to rest and take a breather, a much needed vacation. One said I ought to have a sabbatical leave. They are all correct. But what caused me to have lost the zeal for life? I need to know for after all the leaves, the vacations and the rests, I may face it (them?) again, then as if nothing happens at all.

Scott will forever be blind but he is so hopeful. Hear him sing and listen that he does it with all the passion his heart could muster, with all the hope that something better, something grander is to come. I envy his heart. I envy his hope for that something. Could it be the lack of vision that makes him see life much better than I do. Could it be my clear vision that has causing me all the troubles now? A friend once told me that people far from the chaotic complexities of urban life have fewer life conflicts and problems to deal with. I have seen a lot. I have been through a lot. Could I now be paying the price for having seen so much more than I can handle?

Could life would have been much better if I were blind? I play the piano too but not as well as Scott. A blind man compensates for what he lacks. He listens well to discriminate sounds and uses his sense of touch to his utmost advantage. Because I have both my eyes, could I have not been listening well to people around me? Could I have desensitized my nerves that I no longer know how to reach out and touch others in their inmost sanctum? I might not have developed a listening heart because I just have to see what I needed to hear. I failed to listen. I might not have been so sensitive of how others' feel because I just have to see them with my soulful brown eyes. I failed to touch.

I don't know. I am still sad today and I am now more confused if this could have been caused by my eyes. I don't want to blame Him for giving me clear vision. It may have been be that I was not using both my eyes the way they are intended to be. I have voluntarily blinded myself with what is going on around me, and because I depended so much on my vision, I failed to develop more my ears to listen well, and my touch to reach out to many. I think it is not yet too late to learn from Scott. I think it is not yet to late to be hopeful, to see the grander things and to be happy again; however, how I wish I can see how.

SOME GOOD THINGS NEVER LAST

...And the Good Things I Will Miss

Last Feb. 1999 I embarked on a totally different journey of my life. I became a teacher. From being a social work officer moving back and forth from hospital to field, I got into a totally new environment-the classroom. I substituted for a friend teaching Biology and Chemistry. I liked the idea of imparting knowledge to young minds so in the summer that year I went back to school to prepare me more to be a good teacher the next academic year. This year, 10 years hence, I decide to rest from school. My reasons are varied, complex and are not worth mentioning here. I won't be a high school teacher anymore.

My almost eight years of being a classroom teacher was very rewarding. I was often assigned the class adviser of the last section. Most of the time, my students were challenged both mentally and behaviorally. However, these two have always been my motivation for my students to strive more. We won almost all the contests before; we defeated even the brainier ones. What I am very proud of, however, was I made my students understand what real life is outside the school. I am very proud that I have prepared most of them well to face real life challenges. Today, some of them are professional nurses, computer engineers, managers, and teachers and they have not forgotten me.

I always go beyond being a teacher. I always treat my students and my co-teachers as younger siblings. Next academic year, there are people and things I will definitely miss. Sadly, I will miss my beautiful junior students. I taught third year computer programming and most of my better programmers are young ladies. I will also miss most of my hard working co-teachers. Their dedication is beyond question. They deserve more than the appreciation they are getting now. Lastly, I will miss the books in the library. I love to read and there are just so many better reads in the library. I will definitely miss all these!

Some things, however good, will just have to end. Right from the start, I knew that I would not be a teacher forever. I have planned it out well, my life. I really just have ten years in my mind working as a teacher. After that, I would like to venture in another field. I planned to be back in the government service where I was before. I dealt with poor families then. They may be poor in material possession, but they are very reach in spirit. I like to be with them again. I am currently confused with my real purpose in life. My students seem to be less appreciative of what I am doing. I want to regain back the zest in life, the zeal to work and zoom my way back where I was before.

I am sad today, and I will definitely be sadder tomorrow. There are decisions, however, that I just have to make. I am actually taking so much risk leaving the school, but I am not comfortable anymore in there and its environs. I am literally jumping out of my discomfort zone, which is I think good. Though I am not sure I can get back to government service, I have to try my luck. They said there's no harm in trying, so be it. For some good things just never last, I am expecting for the worst even. If it not be that, at least I get something worse!