Running

                                               (photo: bradfordhealth.com)

Dexter, not his real name, is a runner. He is not an athlete who dashes on the tracks but a drug dealer. Raffy, not his real name too, is the adult who gives him the contacts. He often brings sachets of "shabu" to those who text him given by Raffy. After the delivery, the minor gets the money and gives it back to the adult. The latter would then give him his commission: a hundred or two. Dexter could then buy something to eat. He even would buy some food for his parents who then eat the meal with gusto.

There was a time when Dexter was invited by Raffy to have a hit with him. Since he got curious about it, he tried the prohibited substance and he liked the high. The act continued and since Raffy is gay, the boy was then exposed to homosexual escapades that he even experienced to be sodomized by the adult.

The dealings continued and his addiction escalated. He was then traded by Raffy to other gays for a fee. The boy learned that in this world, people are going to use you but then it would be OK for a price or two. His values, which were not built on strong foundation anyway, became twisted. The world of the young turned upside down and school became an option.

His adviser was alarmed with his absenteeism and his physical appearance. For weeks, he looked unkempt and pale. His weight has dropped and his clothes looked dirty. He then asked Dexter about his whereabouts and the boy divulged his condition. The teacher was aghast and went to the Guidance Counselor and discussed the case. The latter was alarmed and informed the principal about the situation.

Inside the principal's office, Dexter was silent. His eyes had these empty expression and he got distracted with even the hum of the office's air-conditioning system. The school head did not know where to start... the he said: You're still interested to come to school? The boy answered with unblinking eyes: No. "Why?" the adult continued. "What for?" the minor responded.

Together with the class adviser, the principal went to visit the parents of the boy. The makeshift bridge towards their house seemed to complain with their weight. The smell was not friendly and the people around looked at them as if they were aliens. The house was tilted towards the river and there was a little child crawling on the dusty floor. When the adviser asked the parents if they noticed that Dexter had money most of the time, the mother nodded. "You did not ask him where he got it?" asked the teacher. "No, I'm only interested with the food he brings," the mother quipped.

The principal could not take it anymore and went out of the house. He looked for Dexter and found him inside a shed, sleeping. He looked at the young one and wondered how many boys are like him. He roused the boy. Dexter sat up. The school head was engulfed with pity as looked at the wasted face of the kid...

"Come on, let's eat," the adult said. The boy's eyes lit up and he gave a painful smile.

We Ride Our Trains

The zombies pile up an ran to you like inevitable facts. Instinctively, you run away from them afraid that you will be bitten and become part of the problem. There are efforts done to shy away from the toxic bites of these challenges but later, you realize that you need to fight back. By confronting the zombies and using your initiatives in solving the maze-like problems, one could be victorious in the end.

The Train to Busan becomes your own life. In it are different individuals who try to live their own lives. Inside your train/life you will encounter people who are struggling to exist and need help; you meet people who are selfish and would even put your own life at stake for their personal interests; you will experience the love of family members as well if you just open yourself to them...You will also encounter friends who die for you...

There are instances that work would overwhelm us to the point that we forget why we are working. We work for our families. Yet, there are instances when we forget them. Our children sometimes suffer from this emptiness that they talk to themselves since we are absent. Then, we fill in our gaps with gifts only to realize that these are hollow stuff. Most of the time, we forget that we already gifted them with such, creating a chasm so difficult to fill in.

But what caused these zombies around? Are they the persons who got intoxicated with the worldly things that they give their lives to them even at the expense of others? Why do they kill the normal ones and infect them to become living-dead? How could you prevent from being one of them? You have these queries since you could see a lot of them running around competing with each other for new cars and piling up money even if they are causing death, psychological torments in the young and the darkening of their hearts. Are you going to be selfish and unfeeling too? Will you allow to be bitten or put up a good fight to be different...

Still, there is love. This is the most powerful weapon you have. If you are a father, you could sacrifice your own well-being for your child. You take the hurdles along the way so that the young one could have her future. You could take toxic bites for the sake of love. If you are a husband, you sacrifice your comfort for the benefit of your wife and the child she carries on her womb, If you are a lover, you take the toxin with the one you love... That is the key to loving: SACRIFICE.

In real life, we are all surrounded by zombies. They are the people surrounding us who are trying to kill our efforts to love. There are those who will bite and pressure you to be like them posing as true friends. We might as well be zombies with hearts poisoned with envy, insecurity and materialism. These cause the death of one's spirit allowing you to walk or run around with the sole mission to be the fittest, the best.

Here's hoping that our trains lead us to Busan, er, to our envisioned destination.

Shrapnel

                                                  (photo: rappler)

Fourteen lives were spent as the bomb exploded in the night market in Roxas, Davao City. The president declared a State of Lawless Violence in the country and the Armed Forces so with the PNP are now roaming the parts of the country waiting for the president's instructions. This is not a time to panic according to the Palace and the Veep also told us to stay calm.

Amidst the president's War on Drugs and the discourse on the alleged extra-judicial killings, the Abu Sayyaf has to meddle and make a name for themselves since they must put up a good fight against the offensive staged to them by the military. As if the beheading that they did to some tourists was not enough, they must do the only thing they're good at: give terror.

The Filipinos who are still warring on their political beliefs and "die-hard" supporters of the elections flooded insensitive commentaries on social media accusing both sides of the terrible bombing. There are those who blame the president and there are those who are irked with such that they rant back with their full-support forgetting the pain the bombing gave to the families and to the country in general.

When I checked my phone early this morning, the news feed was infested with the sad incident in Davao. What came to me first was worry about the well-being of my friends, relatives and former students who are there. Then, I felt the pain of those persons whose loved ones were killed. I know that they are asking for the "reason" of the death of their loved ones. What if this happened to one of my cousins or siblings? God forbid!

What has become of our country? This was the next question to visit my thoughts as I reflected on the things happening lately. I was shocked to realize that some of my acquaintances are into drug-dealing. There are even teachers and school heads who are being closely-monitored by the police since they reek of unexplained wealth... Then, there are the killings and the brouhaha on human rights violations and the mud-slinging in the legislative areas.

I grimace on the thought of having kids in the school who are products of dysfunctional families and who could be considered amoral since they could not draw a line between what is good and not. I am scandalized by the thought that there are adults who pose as professionals who are engaged in the drug trade. I worry about friends who are leaving their families since they think that leaving their their kids fulfills their happiness. Then, the bombing.

Of course it could be unhealthy for me to dig deeper on these things and find messianic solutions. Still that question lingers.

All I could do is to pray. I don't have the background on political science but I understand human nature, I believe that grief is being experienced by the people who are affected by the terrorist act. I know that our psyche as a people is being stained with anxiety as well, A concerted effort to do good and dwell on the positive side must flourish. This is the secret of successful lives.

But then, I could not help but to get angry. I have yet to define what I'm angry of. But I know that blaming and pointing fingers do not help. As an empowered person, I must do the things expected of me and create ripples.

Shrapnel

                                                  (photo: rappler)

Fourteen lives were spent as the bomb exploded in the night market in Roxas, Davao City. The president declared a State of Lawless Violence in the country and the Armed Forces so with the PNP are now roaming the parts of the country waiting for the president's instructions. This is not a time to panic according to the Palace and the Veep also told us to stay calm.

Amidst the president's War on Drugs and the discourse on the alleged extra-judicial killings, the Abu Sayyaf has to meddle and make a name for themselves since they must put up a good fight against the offensive staged to them by the military. As if the beheading that they did to some tourists was not enough, they must do the only thing they're good at: give terror.

The Filipinos who are still warring on their political beliefs and "die-hard" supporters of the elections flooded insensitive commentaries on social media accusing both sides of the terrible bombing. There are those who blame the president and there are those who are irked with such that they rant back with their full-support forgetting the pain the bombing gave to the families and to the country in general.

When I checked my phone early this morning, the news feed was infested with the sad incident in Davao. What came to me first was worry about the well-being of my friends, relatives and former students who are there. Then, I felt the pain of those persons whose loved ones were killed. I know that they are asking for the "reason" of the death of their loved ones. What if this happened to one of my cousins or siblings? God forbid!

What has become of our country? This was the next question to visit my thoughts as I reflected on the things happening lately. I was shocked to realize that some of my acquaintances are into drug-dealing. There are even teachers and school heads who are being closely-monitored by the police since they reek of unexplained wealth... Then, there are the killings and the brouhaha on human rights violations and the mud-slinging in the legislative areas.

I grimace on the thought of having kids in the school who are products of dysfunctional families and who could be considered amoral since they could not draw a line between what is good and not. I am scandalized by the thought that there are adults who pose as professionals who are engaged in the drug trade. I worry about friends who are leaving their families since they think that leaving their their kids fulfills their happiness. Then, the bombing.

Of course it could be unhealthy for me to dig deeper on these things and find messianic solutions. Still that question lingers.

All I could do is to pray. I don't have the background on political science but I understand human nature, I believe that grief is being experienced by the people who are affected by the terrorist act. I know that our psyche as a people is being stained with anxiety as well, A concerted effort to do good and dwell on the positive side must flourish. This is the secret of successful lives.

But then, I could not help but to get angry. I have yet to define what I'm angry of. But I know that blaming and pointing fingers do not help. As an empowered person, I must do the things expected of me and create ripples.