4th of June. I woke up at 4:30am, much earlier than usual, from a dream that left me with the kind of unease that I dreaded for the longest time. Distressed, I called on God and asked Him what the dream was for. Was it a message of hope, or a cruel reminder of a future that had just become next to impossible? It had only been a week since His love found me, I had yet to know and receive Him, and yet I was already on the verge of a crisis of faith.
I pulled the earbuds out on my way to church; the Christian music I grew fond of just wasn't cutting it. I tried hard to wear a smile and please God for the rest of the morning despite my glaring unbelief. "At least I went to church today," I thought, harkening back to my previous life where going to church was merely a matter of routine - a feel-good activity, so to speak. Once again God felt distant, and I was slowly consumed by guilt, as I had been the day before. What could have been a special lunch at the nearby city center turned into a vicious guilt trip as everything within my sight reminded me of what I had lost. "Lord, where are You?" I whispered as I walked with my head down for the next half-hour until I figured out I couldn't stay there any longer.
I arrived at a mall, at another city center several kilometers away, at around 2pm. I was hungry, and figuring out that good food would somehow lift my spirits up, I waited in line at a katsu restaurant; after all, Japanese food has always been enjoyable for me. The guilt trip continued as I ate cup after cup of rice alongside slices of breaded pork and a mound of shredded cabbage that I drenched in mayonnaise. Food had been my go-to comfort activity for years, but lo and behold, not even the food could cut it. It was a delicious meal, filling and enjoyable, but woefully ineffective. I just had to do something else. I just had to pray.
I set out to look for a quiet place where I could pray. There was a chapel above the mall, but masses were scheduled hourly so there was barely any time for quiet prayer. Fat chance looking for a sanctuary in the middle of the city, I thought as I left the mall. I decided to use the walk as a time for prayer anyway, and amid the sea of buildings and cars I called out to God.
"Lord, I'd like to thank You for the delicious food I just had, for which You have provided, but this is much too heavy. Perhaps this is what I get for running away from You, for disobeying You, for taking Your gifts for granted, for being a wretch of a man…"
After several minutes I spoke less about the guilt I had and began asking God about the dream. "What was that for? Are you telling me not to give up, that there's hope?" I could not wrap my head around the idea that He would leave me a sliver of hope despite what I have done. I asked question after question until I reached the end of the road - roughly 4 kilometers from my starting point.
I had a brainwave as I headed back - perhaps I was talking too much and listening too little. I began asking God to speak, expecting something inexplicably supernatural to happen in the next several minutes. Would it be a booming voice from heaven, like when Jesus was baptized? Would I be struck with a blinding light, like Paul, and somehow find the answer in the resulting sea of white? I didn't know; all I wanted was for God to speak. I realized I was being tempted to walk away, to disembark from the journey I began a week prior. But God couldn't have sought me simply to punish me. I kept inviting Him to speak; "Through It All" played continuously in my head as I tirelessly walked past store after store.
I was about to cross a narrow road when a black vehicle drove past me. At the rear window was a decal that looked like a Bible reference. "Jeremiah 2…" I couldn't make out the chapter and verse numbers; it could be 26:1, 26:11, 28:1, or 28:11. Another black vehicle drove past mere seconds later, this time with a decal that read "Powered by Jesus." I was intrigued. God must be speaking, I thought. I decided to head back once more. Upon crossing the road a jeepney with a large "IN GOD WE TRUST" banner in front of it sped past me.
I was walking down yet another row of stores and restaurants when I got a text from my mother. My sister, who was sick for the almost the entire week but seemed fine the previous day, was once again having a high fever. I lost it.
"Seriously, Lord? I've spent all day bothered by my own problem and now this? I know I deserve punishment but this… I mean, have I really gone so bad to deserve this? Do you even love me still?"
I stopped praying. I stopped thinking. I just… stopped. I decided to just head back to the mall, have my dinner, buy a thermometer for my sister, and head home. It was getting dark, after all. I had become unlovable, I thought, and I had to deal with it. Yet I was intrigued by the Jeremiah reference; I took out my phone, launched the Bible app, and tried to figure out which verse it was. 26:1 didn't seem to make sense, and neither did 26:11, 28:1, or 28:11. I bothered to try 56:1, 56:11, 58:1, and 58:11, until I realized that the book of Jeremiah only had 52 chapters. I was clueless. I thought of it over dinner as I ate. Having had dinner and dropped by the drugstore, I decided to go home. It was around 7pm, and I expected heavy traffic on the way home. I was much too tired to switch between modes of transport so I figured out I'd just take an Uber. I got a driver after a short wait, but he seemed confused and circled the adjacent block again and again, seemingly unable to figure out how to get to the mall's driveway. He arrived more than 15 minutes later.
I listened to random songs as the vehicle drove toward the highway. This is my life now, I thought, and I just had to deal with it. Traffic was not as heavy as I expected, and billboard after billboard flew past me as I wallowed in my misery. I'm no stranger to the sight of so many billboards; I've lived in the city all my life, and I've plied the same route countless times.
And then, either before or after crossing the Pasig river, one of those billboards caught my attention. It was one of those electronic billboards serving lame video ads, but at that moment not much was on it but these words:
<blockquote>
 I CAN DO ALL THINGS THROUGH CHRIST WHO STRENGTHENS ME.
 Philippians 4:13
</blockquote>
I looked to the left, and there was another billboard with the words "KNOW GOD'S PLAN." Above it were the words "READ THE BIBLE." I thought, "well, yeah, I've started attending Bible study. I'll keep going."
After a quick stop at the service station, the vehicle sped in the direction of Eastwood City, where I spent the morning and early afternoon. I remembered the awful guilt-trip experience, but yet another billboard beamed with these words:
<blockquote>
 DELIGHT IN THE LORD AND HE WILL GIVE YOU THE DESIRES OF YOUR HEART.
 Psalm 37:4
</blockquote>
I began thinking, "God must be talking to me." I looked around as I headed toward Katipunan Avenue. The electronic billboard at Ateneo has been a familiar sight and I've paid little attention to it, but at that moment it was showing prayers and Bible verses. As the vehicle stopped, these words were on:
<blockquote>
 Lord, thank You for the gift of another day to love, to serve, and to live according to Your will.
</blockquote>
I closed my eyes for a few seconds. "Lord, I know You're speaking to me right now. Go ahead; I'm listening."
I arrived home after that half-hour trip, and upon settling I remembered the Jeremiah verse I couldn't figure out. It must be a popular verse, I thought, so I took the phone out of my pocket and fired up Google. Just as I finished typing "Jeremiah 2," suggestions came up. I clicked on the first one, "Jeremiah 29 11." I looked at the results and saw these words:
<blockquote>
 "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord…
</blockquote>
I dropped the phone, stood up, and looked up in awe. The guilt, the gloom, and the confusion all seemed to vanish right at that moment. God had just spoken, and nothing in the world mattered to me more than the fact that He listened and He answered. He held onto me even as I could no longer hold on to Him. I spent the rest of the night in prayer and worship. "Lord, now I know that You have a plan for me; I'll trust in You now." I began the day confused, depressed, and feeling crummy with all the guilt, but I ended it with a kind of joy I would not get anywhere else.
I called onto God. He heard me, He listened to me, and He answered.
<blockquote>
 "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.
 Jeremiah 29:11–13
</blockquote>

For I know the plans I have for you.

Slightly edited version of a note I posted on Facebook.
Dear Lord,
It's been a very, very long time since I last wrote You a letter. Thank You for this day and all the other days You've given me. It's a shame that I didn't bother to thank You for most of those days, so I'd like to take this opportunity to thank You and give You praise for the gift of life You've sustained in me for nearly three decades now.
Thank You, Lord, for protecting and strengthening my parents in the roughly 273 days during which You crafted me in my mother's womb. There are many ways for a pregnancy to go wrong, but Your mantle of protection covered me even before I was born into the world. You knew my parents' desire in their hearts for a child of their own; You listened to their every prayer, and You responded with the kind of love and faithfulness that reaches to the ends of the universe and transcends all human understanding.
Your love prevailed as I took my first breath on that February afternoon. You watched over as I grew up, gifted me with skills and talents through which I achieved great things, not to brag about them but to serve as manifestations of Your glory, and encouraged me in times of trouble. You strengthened me in times of adversity, hindered my enemies from prevailing, and established my paths even as I tended to chart my own.
Your love prevailed even as I veered away from the course You have set. As I grew up, I began to reduce You to a mere system of legalisms, barely made an effort to know You beyond what I've been told and much less to serve You wholeheartedly, and ventured into worldly pursuits that I became mired in for years on end. My heart grew cold, my spirit weary, and my mind weighed down by frustration. At times I tried to hide from You in shame for what I had become.
Yet Your love pursued me. Your love prevailed.
You have taken me on an amazing journey, one in which more of Your character was revealed to me with each passing day, one in which I experienced the overwhelming reality of Your love and faithfulness even as I did not deserve any of it. I am but a tiny speck in the vastness of the universe that You created, yet You chose to save me, take my broken pieces, and make me whole again. It boggles the mind trying to figure out how an immensely powerful and glorious God, who's got everything figured out, would care so much about me and pursue the little mess of a young man that I was. On this journey You taught me the meaning of faith, hope, love, and grace. True to your promise, You've never left me. You've listened to my every prayer, and spoke whenever I needed You to come through. You came into my heart, filled me with Your Spirit, and I will never be the same again.
Lord, You know my heart's desires. You've got everything figured out while I'm still figuring out adulthood, yet for the longest time I chose to struggle with the wheel than let You take it. I know that You have great plans for me and that the course I'm on is the work of Your mighty hand. I may not understand how the pieces fit together, but troubling they may be, I'll find comfort in Your sovereignty and presence in my life. Thank You, Lord, for the hope and peace that I have in You. Fill my heart with Your love, and fill me with Your Spirit - the Spirit that gives life, establishes my paths, and provides the strength to fight sin and resist the schemes of man and evil. Strengthen my body and spirit so that I may serve You and be an instrument of blessing to others. Continue to write my story, and make me a living testimony of Your goodness, faithfulness, and wonder.
As the psalmist declares, Your goodness and mercy surely will follow me for the rest of my life. Have Your way in me, Lord, and grant that I may live every day of my life for Your glory. The road ahead may be long and winding, but I will not be daunted, for I know that I'm never alone. My hope is in You, Lord, and I give you all the glory and honor and the highest praises. In the mighty name of Jesus, my Lord and Savior, the Author and Perfecter of my faith, my Strength and Shield, my Shepherd.
Love, JM

Ten thousand.

<h2 id="aquicknote">A quick note</h2>
The essay you are about to read was never published. I wrote it in 2013 as a follow-up to <a href="https://makiroll.net/sablay">"Sablay"</a>, but I never got to post it for some unknown reason; it ended up buried in my archives until I found it in mid-2020.
As those who know me personally know very well, I ended up leaving librarianship in 2014 to pursue a career in technology. Nevertheless, this essay offers a glimpse into my hopes, dreams, and frustrations as a librarian.
<hr />
Two years ago I wrote an essay about graduating college and starting a career. This would be the long-overdue follow-up. This is quite a long read; please excuse me in advance if you find it boring.
I graduated library school in 2011 still undecided on a definitive career path to take or even something to do for the rest of my life. I did not want to become "just" a librarian, confined to a library and doing things librarians are supposed to do; I wanted to be a different kind of librarian - I wasn't sure how different I'd make it but it definitely had to do with technology. When faced with the need to take the board examination I was greatly hesitant; despite my initial plan to pursue computer science and work for the IT industry, I decided to take the test anyway - but primarily for the sake of not putting four years of library school to waste. We know what happened [link to LLE results], but there were times when I felt I spent too much effort on something I thought wouldn't mean much.
My venture into library science was almost purely accidental, honestly; it was recommended to me as a second option when I applied for the UPCAT. I was aiming to become an electronics engineer; my father and grandfather are both engineers, and I spent much of late childhood and early adolescence dreaming of designing and building electronic stuff for a living. An appreciation of technology and innovative thought ran in my blood; as a kid I often asked my parents to buy me electronic toys, which I eventually took apart to learn how they worked. For a few months I turned an empty drawer in my closet into a little electronics "lab" where I taught myself science concepts that had yet to be discussed in class. I always marveled at humanity's capacity to invent and looked up to people whose efforts led to the things we now take for granted, and I wanted to become one of them given the opportunity.
I loved technology simply because it was cool.
But I ended up not becoming an engineer; instead I became part of a profession that has been hard at work reinventing itself for decades, if not centuries, and with greater effort since the introduction of the World Wide Web at least. Librarianship had to deal with two things: the threat posed by the Internet and innovations in information and communications, and the popular image associated with librarians in general. It impresses me how libraries manage not only to remain relevant but to introduce new ways of serving information to their patrons; for me it is enough proof that librarianship isn't as archaic as I used to think, and at the same time an assurance that my heavy inclination towards technology won't be wasted. I got to work for an academic library as a different breed of librarian; the server rack was my bookshelf, computers were my books, and the various information systems I worked on were perhaps analogues of circulation processes as far as exchanging information is concerned. I was proven wrong in thinking that systems development was a behind-the-scenes job; I spent considerable amounts of time helping users find the information they need and encouraged them to try out front-facing systems before I deployed them.
I must say, my experience as a librarian added a human dimension to my appreciation of technology.
As I went along, my idea of technology became less about awesomeness or "wow" factors, and more about it being a tool for empowerment, development, and fulfillment. People invent things to, first and foremost, address a particular problem, necessity, or desire. The mobile phone was invented to enable people to hold conversations wherever in the world they may be. The Internet was invented to facilitate information exchanges among interconnected computers and devices. Social networking services were invented to serve as bridges between people around the world, allowing for rich communication and better collaboration. Technology drives progress; it moves humanity forward. As a Web (and eventually systems) developer I looked at my work as simply harnessing the power of technology to serve a purpose; but as it turns out that the true value of my work is in its ability to enrich the lives of the people my solutions were built for. I found fulfillment for MakiTV not in the fact that I've managed to build it, or that it ran fine in the course of my research; I found it in the faces of library users at EnggLib who would spend at least a minute watching whatever was on our installations there and how delighted student organizations were when they learned they could have their events announced for free.
This "next chapter" of my life has turned to be a soul-searching journey.
I find the "managing information resources" definition of librarianship too limiting, and I hated to think of the profession that way. Sure, it's about getting, organizing, offering, and eventually getting rid of information resources, but I think it's not about the materials themselves. My vision of a librarian is a professional whose primary objective is to make information work for people. His or her job is not merely to look up nuggets of information and serve it as it is written; he or she makes use of the technologies at his or her disposal to add value to it, to pass it onto the patron in such a way that it entails great value. With this orientation, I believe that the librarian can be driver of individual progress, and libraries can in turn become engines of human progress.
I strive to be this kind of librarian—an innovator, a technologist, an agent of empowerment.
I have decided to direct my efforts towards two things; first, to become recognized as an innovator not just for myself but for the whole of librarianship; and second, to inspire younger generations of librarians to be innovators in their own right through mentoring and guidance. I would like to find new ways to help librarians deliver information more effectively to patrons, and solutions to further enrich learning experiences libraries are meant to provide. I would like to lend a hand in placing the library at the center of the information society through my ability to leverage the power of technology to create bridges between people and information. I would also like to infuse an innovative discipline among future librarians and information professionals, to inspire them to become catalysts of learning and individual development by embracing what's new and creatively crafting solutions for better information and learning.
I dream of a world where libraries would be seen as engines of human progress, and librarians as agents of empowerment. There will definitely be challenges up ahead, and while this dream may not come into fruition in my lifetime, I would be honored to have contributed to this cause in whatever way I could. I would like to represent a new kind of librarian, one who would take information stewardship to a whole new level and ultimately redefine the profession.
This is my mandate.

Mandate.

Originally posted on 12 September 2012, after <a href="https://twitter.com/y4it/status/245343193208594432?lang=en">delivering a tech talk at the 10th Y4IT congress</a> on digital signage and libraries.
I left the stage yesterday morning relieved that the talk went through without a hitch, and at the same time disappointed with my failure to engage the audience. I was talking about one way to reinvent how libraries inform users in the most techy manner I can imagine, but they all seemed to be in state of collective “meh.” In contrast, the audience at Joomla co-founder Johan Janssens’ talk seemed so engaged that the Q&amp;A time became more of an interesting discussion on programming languages than the expected dead air.
Was it because I didn’t wear jeans? Was my presentation too plain and monographic? Was my voice monotonous? I spent the rest of the day thinking about how challenging it was for a librarian to take the stage in a congress where participants expect to hear about software development, programming, and other advanced computing topics. It seemed as if I, a librarian by profession, had no place in it. Not even for someone whose job would probably better fit the common description of an IT person.
Which brings me to one of my frustrations as a librarian. I spent four years in library school hearing professionals and students alike preach the “good news” of 21st-century librarianship - digital, dynamic, and engaging. Ideas such as “librarians are at the center of today’s information driven society” and “it’s about time that librarians turn techy” have been abound and were repeated endlessly throughout every single gathering of library professionals I’ve been to. And yet, outside the field, people still tend to conjure the same image of a librarian - anold-fashioned, boring, book-stamping and shushing folk who does nothing more on a computer than type documents, if he or she would ever use a computer at all. It’s as if the students yesterday expected me to be “ho-hum” because I had to be introduced as a librarian.
Most people, including a lot of librarians themselves, think of the profession as being concerned with safeguarding records of knowledge and history. My view tends to deviate: I think of the librarian as someone who makes information work for people by constantly seeking and building solutions to do just that. This is why I attended Information Systems classes and overworked on projects while all my peers went elsewhere. It’s a philosophy I’ve carried over as I entered the professional world; at work I spend all my time on a computer working on things ranging from video presentations and signage designs to websites and apps. I’m a librarian; that’s what I do.
A lot of librarians, besides myself, would probably want to align themselves with this view as well. Preoccupied with reinventing themselves and the field in its entirety, more and more library professionals see technology as their salvation from obsolescence. Computer literacy has become a life skill, and the ability to create solutions with it a much-prized skill. I think library people deserve a more important role in the information society than what is being given to them, not just being guardians of human heritage but also being an indispensable driving force for innovation and empowerment - the library as an engine for progress. 
So, are we getting there? Saying “maybe” would do the profession injustice; it’s definitely a yes. Libraries on Facebook and Twitter? Already happening. Developer librarians? I’d love to be a living example. Such achievements are much celebrated within the field, but looking outside it and as yesterday’s talk made me realize, much still needs to be done. For one thing, the Information Technology subject, with its mostly trivial questions, remains to have the least weight in the licensure exam, almost as if being insignificant.
Perhaps I’m becoming impatient and increasingly frustrated. I am convinced that venturing into “other” realms such as IT is the right thing to do, yet I feel burdened by the image chained into my identity as a librarian. I never knew it would be difficult gaining momentum and engagement in a realm where people tend to deem people like you obsolete and irrelevant.
The new librarianship. We’re getting there, but we’re not quite there yet.

Not quite there yet.

I had this dream just a few nights before my last birthday.
It was early in the afternoon, and the professor had just dismissed the class. Everyone in the room - around fifty, though the classroom was built for probably just around forty people - was busy packing up and heading out to the hallway. Some would proceed to their next classes, while others would go elsewhere around campus to spend their free periods or perhaps call it a day and head home. It must have been at the SLIS - all I could remember about the place is that the classroom was at the far end of the wing, at the topmost floor, and the staircase was in the middle of the building. The hallway seemed unusually bright though, as if it were lit by daylight.
Like everyone else, I packed my bags and prepared to leave for my free period. I wasn't going home yet; perhaps I was just gonna stay at the library or have a snack. There were more people in the room than it was designed for - several minutes have passed yet there were still a lot of people inside. Everyone seemed to be in a rush to leave - except me, perhaps, as I continued tidying up my stuff without giving time even the least care. Everyone hurried to the door, and as a result just getting through it became a struggle. "Let them all go out first," I thought, resigning to be the last to leave if it meant not struggling just to get out.
I had my sights set at the door soon after zipping up my bag when I saw a classmate of mine, a girl in a wheelchair, barely moving as everyone else crowded around her. She was trying to make her way out, like all the others, except that she could barely get closer to the door because no one seemed to notice her. No one cared to part to let her get through, not even the guys. I found it strange that she seemed invisible to everyone - she seemed to be a nice girl, and she was quite attractive despite her small stature. Looking at her I couldn't help but wonder why people - especially the guys, perhaps - could afford to ignore her. Then I figured out that I could do better than just watch and wonder. I had to do something, despite the fact that we barely knew each other. I didn't even know her name.
Thoughts of how people might see my intended gesture started filling my mind, but I ignored them as I walked towards the girl. I immediately grabbed the handles at the back of her wheelchair, and started to push gently towards the door without a word. She knew someone was already pushing the chair for her, but she didn't care to find out who that person was. I didn't have to tell everyone to make way - they just did, and in a few seconds we were already at the hallway. Then, a brainwave: If I bothered to get her out the door, I might as well go all the way and help her get out of the building. And so I did. Without a word I started pushing the wheelchair along the hallway, looking straight ahead and into the people I happened to pass by. She didn't seem to realize at first that the wheelchair was already moving - she grabbed the wheels and started spinning it. "Ako na," I told her, and quickly she tucked her arms towards her body. Perhaps it was my way of saying "Hey, I'm here to help you out. Let me handle it." She wanted to turn her head around and see whoever was pushing the wheelchair for her, but she couldn't.
As we made our way to the staircase, I was thinking, "Do I like her?" Well, I must say that I was at that time compassionate for once. I rarely offered to give people a hand - it was unusual for me to do so. I had reasons to admire her - she was clearly my type, but I chose not to think of it (or anything related to it), perhaps because I thought she would be quite difficult a person to deal with. Then I started thinking about what people would make of my actions, considering that I was for a time known in the studentry for my "moves" whenever I happened to hit upon some girl, and just as I was thinking about that I happened to pass by two elderly women - SLIS professors, most probably. They looked at me, and I couldn't help but notice the smirk on their faces, as if saying "how nice of you" or perhaps "we know what you're up to." But then I thought, "Heck; I don't care what everyone thinks - what matters is that I'm helping this girl out." Not because I like her, not because I pity her, but because I can and I want to. Simply put, it was my choice.
After two minutes or so we reached the staircase. I happened to push the wheelchair too close to the edge, so I pulled it back, then took a deep breath and looked at her, asking her to wait as I called some of my friends to help me carry her downstairs. I started wondering what she might be thinking - she was quiet the whole time. I couldn't see her face straight because she never looked straight at me. I had no way of knowing how she felt; I didn't consider asking her for some reason. Then she started weeping - I knew right there and then that she was completely aware of me being there for her. I didn't know what the tears were for; all I could think of was that she probably never expected anyone to come to her aid out of the blue. I knew I had to comfort her, so I sat by her side, near the edge of the staircase, held her hand, and asked why she was crying. She just kept looking blankly ahead, tears falling down her cheeks. I've never done such a thing before, but I just felt the urge to, and it felt great; it was perhaps one of the very few moments in my life when I felt most… human. And it felt great not merely because I liked her, but because I never knew I could be so kind to other people, and I was doing something I knew God always wanted me to do. That's all that mattered.
I spent the next few minutes asking and asking, until she started speaking. She didn't answer my question adequately - all I could understand of her utterances was "kasi." She stopped crying, and it didn't take long for us to pick up a conversation from there. We spent the next several minutes just talking as if we've known each other for quite some time, despite that I only got the chance to know her at that moment. She seemed to have eventually forgotten about going downstairs. We were just there, talking and enjoying each other's company, well until I woke up and realized that it was just a dream.
Whenever I'm reminded of this dream I wonder if I can in actuality be so nice and persevering, if I can ever care for someone so much, if I can ever be willing to come to someone's aid even if it means having to make sacrifices. It was perhaps a reminder of what I live for, where life revolves on, and the only thing that'll ever matter at the end of the day.

Ako na.

Thinking of things to say about graduating takes me back to the last few weeks of summer vacation in 2007, when I spent my idle time walking around my room and looking blankly into the window while trying to imagine the kind of life I would have in the next four years. Maybe I would get to be more sociable, considering that I didn't have much of a social life in high school. Maybe I would be able to do something really cool, like take part in an interschool competition like I did in my senior year in high school. Maybe I would find that girl who would sweep me off my feet.
Let me enumerate my plans for college, as they were back then:
<ul>
<li>Shift into Engineering after a year</li>
<li>Maintain a GWA of above 1.75 - in other words, strive to be at least a College Scholar all the time</li>
<li>Do more extracurricular stuff</li>
<li>Do something cool and try to earn recognition for something</li>
<li>Be more sociable</li>
</ul>
Have I managed to turn these plans into reality? Well, to some extent, yes. Except of course for number one, which, to be honest, I regretted a few times before. Because of number two experimentation with GE subjects was never an option, as I had to make sure that the subjects I took were easy enough and the professors were generous in giving grades. My membership in a student organization is a testament to number three. For number four, it's probably obvious. And for number five, well, I must say that it was during my college life that I actually became part of a barkada (as popular definition of the term goes).
What sets the past four years from the four years before it, aside from the fact that they involved different sets of people, places, and things, is that when I graduated high school I only had the latter half of it to think about. I wasted my first two years in high school doing very little when I could have done much more. It was a mistake I dared not repeat during my college life, and so I took every opportunity to "do something cool", to try to stand out, and simply to make the most out of those eight semesters. And sure enough, my efforts paid off.
Another thing I kept in mind as I went through my college life was the need for me to be more sociable. That's one of the reasons I joined an organization after not much encouragement, and perhaps why I always looked forward to the first day of classes, mainly for the prospect of meeting new people. I tried to be friendly, though at one point I became so afraid of people that I retreated to my shell. That didn't stop me though. I remember my English teacher back in high school telling me that there is nothing wrong with befriending people. It took me quite a while to understand that, but thinking of all the friends I made just in the past four years, I can say that I managed to have some sort of social life this time.
And as for doing something "cool," maybe the coolest thing I managed to do these past four years is be really good at multimedia arts. The video thing was not in my agenda, and I really wasn't expecting myself to be so engrossed in it. Yet that's exactly what happened. I managed to earn recognition for it, and now one of my problems is figuring out the most effective way to train younger students on video production.
So much for plans, now for the "remarkable" and "dramatic" stuff.
One thing I find remarkable about this whole experience is that all my hard work - including the extraneous ones - paid off. For days I couldn't help but pick up my thesis from the shelf, flick through the pages, and ask "Man, I wrote all these?" Which reminds me of the moment when Martin told me who the other nominees for Best Thesis were - I thought, "Man, there's no way in hell that I'm getting that award, given those contenders." I never wanted it, I never asked for it, yet it came.
The past four years have been about changes, mainly. Changes in how I and the people around me think, speak, act, and work. It is these transformations, in myself and in the people who have touched my life in one way or another, that somehow added color to those eight semesters. I watched my friends as they grew up, and they watched me grow up as well. And this afternoon we marched on, being the well-rounded individuals we have managed to become. I could enumerate all the changes in my personality and way of thinking, but that would take too much time (and bytes) so I'll just leave it at that.
As I walked into my seat this afternoon, it was as if a videotape was rewinding then fast-forwarding in my head. Images of the past four years flashed back as I glanced on the maroon and green hues of my sablay, from the moment I first set foot on campus as a bona fide UP student, right to the very moment that the revered fabric was draped over my shoulder. There's no denying the fact that I'll miss life in UP - I'll miss spending my idle time at the library, having meals with friends, engaging in oft-nonsensical chatter with them, embarking on IKOT and TOKI "joyrides", many things - even arguing with people over almost anything. I may not feel it much now, but it'll definitely come back to haunt me some time in the future.
Later this day it all became clear to me that indeed this was it, especially when Albus Dumbledo-- I mean, the UP President, conferred our degrees and I flung my sablay around. "Parati ninyong sinasabi sa akin, mag-aral ako nang mabuti. Yan, nag-aral na ako nang mabuti!" (You always told me to study well, so I did!) That's what I told my mother many times. In the coming years grades will no longer matter. There will be no more CRS and long enrollment lines to worry about. Life shall no longer be a matter of how much I learn from my teachers, but rather of how I use what I learned in the past eighteen years not just for my own good but for the good of others as well. That's my new challenge - to prove my worth as a member of society, armed with the knowledge I have acquired through the years and the wisdom brought about by numerous experiences, both good and bad.
Now I'd like to express my deepest gratitude, first to our Heavenly Father, for without Him virtually none of these would have come to exist.
To my parents, for their unconditional love, support, and encouragement for being patient with me and never giving up in the toughest of times and when I sometimes became so stubborn. I believe that one reason I managed to become the best I can ever be is that I have the best parents a guy can ever have. To my dear parents, your twenty years of hard work have finally paid off.
My sister, for teaching me the true meaning of patience and responsibility.
My mentors - teachers, professors, and coaches - who believed in my abilities, imparted their knowledge and wisdom, and guided me along the path to what I have become. They are the very reason I have so much respect for educators; my success is theirs as well.
My relatives, for their love and support, for being there to boost my morale and lighten up my mood whenever I became too engrossed in academics or some other hard work.
My friends - orgmates, my BRO barkada, etc. - who have always been there to cheer me up and give me a boost whether or not I actually needed those, and simply for being great friends. You, guys and gals, are proof enough that I am not as socially inept as I used to think.
And all the people who made the past four years colorful and memorable, thank you so much. There are a lot of you that if I had to enumerate I'm surely gonna skip some; you know who you are, anyway.
For all the memories, for all the moments - laughter, sadness, and everything in between - and everything that came to be in the past four years, a million thanks.
On to the next chapter…

Sablay.

Typhoons are a fact of life for Filipinos. Every year about twenty storms pass through the country, some of which wreaking havoc in huge parts of Luzon and sometimes Visayas. There were the great storms: Milenyo, Reming, Frank, and others which caused billions of pesos in damages and killed hundreds. And then there was the tandem of Ondoy and Pepeng. Unlike the great storms of the past that blew the hell out of roofs, Ondoy and Pepeng dumped so much rain that it caused catastrophic flooding in northern and central Luzon. Rice fields became fishponds, vehicles floated in the floodwater, and when it was all over the locals of Marikina and several other cities hardest hit by the floods found themselves shovelling mud off their homes. Just imagine dead pets and refrigerators dangling from the power lines, malls and other structures standing amidst what appears to be the open seas, and cars flipped over. As we say in Filipino, walang sinanto. Both rich and poor suffered from the wrath of the two storms, and as of these writing a lot of places are still flooded and many public schools are full of evacuees.
One remarkable thing I saw during these tough times is the use of social networking and blogging sites to spread vital information and ask for help. Universities have taken the initiative to start relief efforts. Many people posted images and videos, some of which were aired countless times by local TV stations. For several days I actually found myself reposting whatever information I got from trusted sources. Calls for missing people, calls to pray for those who were hardest hit, those things. Facebook, for some time, turned from a haven of procrastination to some sort of information center. Now that's what I call proper use of technology. Unfortunately some people were either misinformed or downright bored. As expected, panic messages spread like H1N1—about the local electricity provider shutting down substations, cracks in the San Roque dam in Pangasinan, and Pepeng being a Category 5. People can't be blamed for being so nervous about the storms, though.
While the storms sent torrents of floodwater rushing towards communities, it is also in these tough times that we get to witness heroism (case in point: Muelmar Magallanes) and what we call bayanihan—being there for your fellow countrymen in times of need. This probably won't be the last time that our country will experience such a disaster—the weather is becoming more and more unpredictable. But when the next big storm hits, people should be better prepared.

Typhoons, Facebook, and panic.

Originally posted on 20 September 2009. Rather embarrassing, but others may find it a somewhat fascinating peek into the mind of a frustrated 18-year-old who didn’t know better.
Nothing shouts FAIL more for a guy than screwing things up at the approach stage. Here are nineteen steps on how to do just that.
<ol>
<li>First, look easily intimidated. Don't care about your masculinity. It would be best if you think of answers for next week's homework than anything else.</li>
<li>Don't mind being clumsy. Chances are this will be your first time to approach a girl you find attractive. Just be clumsy. Put on your cap, take it off, then put it on again. Walk around in circles - back in forth, if you wish. If you're with friends, tell them that you're going to the comfort room then walk away. And as you walk, get as close as possible to the girl you're going to approach - and before she notices your presence walk away and to the nearest comfort room.</li>
<li>And when you're finally in the comfort of the comfort room, just get your hands wet. It's not necessary for you to relieve yourself, anyway. Just turn on the faucet and wet your hands. Chances are there's no soap, so you should be done in a matter of seconds.</li>
<li>So you're out of the comfort room and back in the open. Go back to your previous spot - via the same route you took on the way to the comfort room. Listen as your friends tell you to go for it - and laugh at the sight of you acting so strangely. Punch the wall. Hit your head on the wall. And then…</li>
<li>Go back to the comfort room. Once you're inside, repeat step 3. After that, go back to the pack. Don't say anything to anybody. Sit beside the girl if there's enough space. But before doing that you…</li>
<li>Ask the girl if someone's seated on the spot you wish to sit on. Speak in a manner that'll make her just shake her head and say nothing. Maybe she'll murmur either "yeah" or "no". In most cases the only thing you'll get is a slight shaking of the head.</li>
<li>If she answers no, sit beside her. Now don't say anything to her - not even get her attention by calling her. Just be as calm as possible, but don't be afraid to show how frantic you are.</li>
<li>Grab a gadget from your bag or pocket. A laptop isn't advisable, but go ahead if you want to. Get your hands on your cell phone or portable media player. Push a bunch of buttons. Pretend that you're using the device when in fact you're just playing with it. It's fine even if you're just making the screen's backlight turn on.</li>
<li>When you're bored with your gizmo, cross your arms on the desk and slam your head onto them, as if crying or going to sleep. Don't worry; this won't get the girl's attention.</li>
<li>Tired of being beside her? Stand up without hesitation, and look at your friends who'll probably be watching you nearby. They'll ask you to sit back down and stay where you are. Heed their advice… for now.</li>
<li>Wait a minute or two, then repeat step 10. But this time ignore your friends. Don't listen to them. Don't even look at them. Go back to the comfort room, or go somewhere else.</li>
<li>Chances are your friends will run towards you and pull you back to the scene. Tell them that you're giving up. Resist them, and then walk away.</li>
<li>When you're about 250 meters away from the girl, head back. Get as close to the girl as possible. Walk around in circles. And when your friend offers a proper introduction, reject it.</li>
<li>Just be frantic for the next five minutes or so. The girl will eventually get tired of being where she is, and she'll think of leaving. At the slightest hint of boredom on her face get out of the scene.</li>
<li>Walk a few meters, then head back. The girl will probably be standing and on her way out.</li>
<li>If that's the case, walk right behind her - beside her if you can. Continue looking frantic. Overtake her if you can. Just don't say a word.</li>
<li>Finally, it'll take at least 30 seconds for the whole situation to penetrate the depths of your right mind. Once you regain your sanity, you'll realize how much of a FAIL you are. Self-pity sets in. Frown for the rest of the day - and beyond.</li>
<li>Once you get to a computer, log onto the social network of your choice and post status messages or blog posts about how much of a failure you are. Your buddies will surely come to comfort you.</li>
<li>Whenever you talk to your friends either personally or online, tell them that you simply suck at approaching girls and you'll probably just pursue priesthood in the future - or be a bachelor for the rest of your life.</li>
</ol>

How not to approach girls.

Uncertainty "kills", but it's also what makes life exciting. Any human being who's old enough to make good sense of his/her world must have already experienced the tension that uncertainty brings. We don't know for sure what's going to happen in the future, and there's no way of knowing it. Yes, some outcomes may be defined by the laws of nature, but not everything that happens in one's lifetime are certain. Yes, if I drop a ball from a certain height, I can be certain that it will hit the ground. But I can't tell exactly how a lot of things will turn out. I'm not gonna give examples, but hopefully you get my point.
Uncertainty is perhaps the thing that worries me most. There are a lot of things in my life that are somewhat uncertain. There are a lot of questions which I seek answers for, yet I cannot find any. I wish I knew everything. I wish I know what people are thinking right now. I wish I can ask them right now the questions I'm dying to ask them. But I can't because I wasn't given such abilities. I can't help but bite my fingernails in anxiety each day and think about what might happen. It may be because there are certain things I don't want to experience again, and that's why I'm careful. I'm very careful not to mess things up and suffer again. I'm very careful whenever I think of the possibilities and I try as much as possible not to expect anything because I don't want to get disappointed in the future, though whether such disappointment will actually happen or not remains yet another uncertainty. I often hear the advice "Leave everything to God," but my fears keep me from doing just that. It's just that I'm very careful not to do the same mistakes again.
Leave everything to God. That's what the DJ always says on the radio on Sunday mornings. I remember one thing I learned from Rick Warren's A Purpose-Driven Life. Yes, there may be some things I may have the options for, but much of my life—or should I say ALL of it—rests in God's hands. Yes, I may have suffered. I may have gotten through heartbreak, but I've gone through them and I'm proud to say that I have moved on. Yet I feel so afraid whenever I see the possibility of another heartbreak, and I try my best to avoid any situation that may lead to it. But heck, I made it through countless disappointments and heartbreaks. Why won't I be able to go through another one?
And there's probably another reason why uncertainty just has to exist. I remember saying in a blog before that without feeling both happiness and sadness life is hell boring. Uncertainty, I think, is another thing that adds color to life. It's what makes us excited. It's what makes the world go round. Imagine if we all knew what was going to happen to us. We'll be like pre-programmed machines. There would be no excitement, no color. Life simply won't be, well, life. Uncertainty makes us move on with our lives, and no matter how uncertain the future may be, we have no choice but to face it with courage.
I'm bored so I'm trying to be profound. Have I done a good job?

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