The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi: The Endless Eight Conclusion

Yes, yes, yeeeeeess.

Thank the heavens that whole time-looping, insanely (and unnecessarily) long arc of this anime is over. It's over, people! (Okay, so this episode was released weeks ago so my announcement may not be timely and all, but whatever.) Please excuse me as I bounce around my room in celebration of this epic, mind-blowing development.

Finally, this frustrating, drawn-out arc which offered no story development in the last six episodes finally comes to a close. I'm not going to say "It's about time, too!" because quite frankly, the anime studio should have wrapped up this crazy arc four episodes ago. In short, this whole arc was a waste of allotted episodes for the second season and went on way longer than it should have. I wondered how the voice actors coped with reading the same script over and over again (it must be boring as heck).Whoever said "Patience is a virtue" should really try sitting through this entire arc. I bet they'll have a mental breakdown by episode six or seven. It just goes on and on and on...

So on to episode nine, the finale of this "Endless Eight" arc. Knowing this was episode that concludes this excruciating arc, I tried to enjoy (for the last time, thank goodness), the summer fun the SOS Brigade went through. Try as I might, after watching it all those times before, it's really hard to enjoy it now. All I wanted to know was how the time-loop actually got broken and it took a lot of willpower not to fast forward the episode. I was even hoping that since this was the last episode of the arc, the anime team would have incorporated something new, like a deviation in their conversations or activities, but alas, I was a fool to even hope for that. I guess that was asking too much from an anime team that hardly changed anything in the past seven episodes. On a more positive note, Asahina was still cute when she narrated how she couldn't get back, and it was still funny how she would insert "classified information" on stuff that were supposed to be censored, top-secret, future-related stuff. But other than that, you can skip the entire episode and just head on over to the last five minutes. I guarantee you won't miss anything.

Kyon just managed to stop Haruhi from exiting the restaurant in the nick of time by declaring that the brigade come together to finish their summer homework at his place. When I found out that this was the anticlimactic solution, the only coherent thing that popped into my mind was, "That's it? That's IT???!"

Seriously, the anime left the audience waiting for like seven episodes to reveal such a simple resolution? I could only roll my eyes. And what's even more disappointing, the episode didn't even give an appreciable airtime on how the brigade spent their last day of summer doing homework, only a brief passing courtesy of Kyon's flashback(when they spent the seven earlier episodes earnestly going through all the other summer activities the rest of the viewers would rather not see ever again).

But then again, I liked the ending with Kyon and Koizumi alone at the clubhouse, musing at the remarkable amount of repetitions they went through and Kyon realizing that the deja vus were hints from himself in the past loops that offered the solution on how to break the neverending cycle. The two boys play poker with Kyon unexpectedly winning in the end. He tells himself that if this day were to ever repeart, he hopes that he would place a bet next time (since Koizumi always wins.)

I would have appreciated this ending more had it been not for the excessively unneccessary episodes. But what's important is that this arc has ended, and that's enough for me to breath a sigh of relief.

The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi: The Endless Eight Arc

I know, I know.

The Endless Eight Arc from the above mentioned anime series ended during mid-July, if I'm not mistaken. But since this is the first time that I have finished the truly agonizing eight episodes of this anime's second season, allow me to rant (for my sanity's sake).

I've read that the ninth episode contains the actual ending of this seemingly neverending arc, but I could not resist anymore. It was either swallowing glass shards or resorting to updating my neglected blog. Of course, this was the less violent and far less painful catharsis.

Firstly, I'm a fan of the Haruhi Suzumiya first season. Sure, Haruhi could be bossy, annoying and unreasonable in her demands on some occasions (okay, most of time). But still, the twists, turns, humor and wit of the series drew me in, like legions of other anime viewers. It wasn't your average anime. Come on, time-travelers, ESP-ers and UFOs against the backdrop of an average Japanese high school make for a great story, especially when you throw in a girl who could unknowingly bend reality any which way she chooses. And then there's Kyon, poor, ordinary, bored Kyon who gets sucked up into Haruhi's weird schemes. Cue in time travel, UFO technology, time paradoxes and complications of reality bending and you've got one kick ass show. The first season was a blast and I was disappointed back then when I thought this was the only time the light novels were going to get animated (I've read some, but not all...I've got a short attention span as you may have already noticed).

So then on to season two. Weee. However, my glee was short lived.

Okay, season two started okay. The Tanabata episode was funny and it got me excited. Surely, with such a great first season, the second season would no less outdo its predecessor. How wrong I was.

Episode two introduced us to the adventures and activities of the SOS Brigade during their summer break. It was fun to watch them goof about. They went to the pool, picked out kimonos for the summer festival, attended the O-bon festival where Yuki got herself a mask and Haruhi and Asahina got themselves goldfishes, played with fireworks, caught and released cicadas, distributed balloons in frog costumes, went stargazing...okay, you get the picture. But seriously, the eight "Endless" episodes were enough to burn all of the SOS' summer activities into my memory. I'm afraid I shall probably remember with vivid clarity even their dialogues for the rest of my life (shudder).

Then episode three came, which was basically a rehash of episode two, but with the gang wearing different attires. So then we realize they are stuck in an endless summer thanks to Haruhi's powers. I was amazed at how many thousands of times they repeated practically everything. I was even sympathetic at Yuki for being the only one to consciously experience the summer loop. Man, I could only imagine how she felt. But this was only the second episode of the Endless Eight Arc. Little did I know I would actually be in Yuki's shoes with how the anime studio churned out the succeeding episodes.

Then episode four rolled about. Same old, same old with minor deviations in dialogue. Okay, I could handle that. It was part of the plot, I told myself. It was merely an emphasis that the summer could truly be endless, or a way to make the audience see Yuki's point of view of the never ending repetition of events. But I couldn't help being bored...and a little frustrated...and a little incredulous that the anime practically repeated the same episode...but I was still patient.

When episode five came about and no resolution was achieved at the end...AGAIN, I was getting more frustrated. I mean, this was watching basically the same episode (with very minor changes in costumes and dialogue) four freaking times already. I wanted to hit Kyon in the head for not doing anything or at least throw the PC off an extremely sharp cliff. Because of this, I laid off the Haruhi Suzumiya anime for a few weeks.

And now, out of boredom, I decided to watch the second season again with the hope that perhaps episode six would bring me the resolution I was waiting for. But unfortunately, the anime team wanted churned out the same episode. I wanted to hit my head against a brick wall. This was all too frustrating. I am certain the second season could be a terrific means of torturing anyone with all the unnecessary repetition episodes.

So by episode seven, I had already anticipated that it would be another rehash of the same old, same old so I took to reading a random manga online and let the anime streaming play in the background, kind of like background noise. I would glance at it every five minutes or so for any new developments, find none, and resume reading, waiting patiently for the ending credits to roll. Seriously, the anime team must be running out of ideas if they are willing to replay an identical episode every week. Their writers may have gone on strike or got abducted by time travelers, aliens, or ESP-ers, take your pick. Whoever thought that repeating practically the same episode every week for almost two months should be buried alive or be given an acid bath...or be forced to see these mind-numbing episodes 15,000+ times or until their neurons turn to goop, whichever comes first.

And then we have episode eight. I was crossing my fingers. Come on, no decent anime studio would do another repeat, right? That was a rhetorical question. After six episodes of the same content, were you expecting something else? Duh.

Tomorrow, I'll probably be watching episode nine. It's the resolution episode, I've read. However, given the sheer frustration and chore of going through the seven previous episodes, I'm not the least bit excited of seeing it. The initial itch of seeing the resolution vanished a looong time ago, along with constant Kyon's disinterest of actually putting his foot down and actually doing something to end the freaking Haruhi-induced timeloop.

The momentum that the anime studio planned on building is gone. Okay, episode two introduced the new arc, so no problem with that episode. One or two repeats would have sufficed, to be honest. It is stupid to leave the audience hanging for an insanely long period of time, especially when the succeeding repeats hardly offered something new. Maybe if they performed some of the other deviations Yuki mentioned, omitted some activities or did a new summer job stint, then the other repeat episodes would have come out bearable. But no. If that is some sort of artistic license or some new, refreshing way of telling a story, it certainly is not working for me.

For those who have yet to see the second season of the Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, these are the only things I can say: if you can stomach watching the same thing over and over again, be my guest. But really, the first season is way, way, way better and you should not bother with the second one unless you are bored and you want to induce coma on yourself. However, if you are really adamant on seeing it, skip episodes three, four, five, six, seven, eight and spare yourself the agony, frustration and the urge to get a ticket to Japan to personally murder every last one of the anime staff for ruining a completely great series.

Torpedo

Note: Yeah, I know I was supposed to do some anime reviewing, but I got lazy and distracted. Do forgive me. Anyways, as a means to update my blog, I'm posting another story which I passed for my college's literary folio. Although my forte is English, the story is written in Filipino, with a sprinkling of Visayan here and there. It's my first story written in Filipino, and although it was quite a challenge to write, I was pretty happy with how it turned out. ^^

And as for the lovely picture below, credit goes to Phantasmicbunny on her "Hot Gimmick" fanart.

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Torpedo

“Tanga-a jud nimo Kaye uy,” sinabi ko sa aking sa sarili. Gusto kong iuntog ang ulo ko sa poste kaso baka isipin ng mga tao na nasisiraan na ako. Baka nga. Hay, naku.

Kulang na lang ay mag-iiyak ako sa kamalasan na nangyari ngayong araw. Biruin mo ba naman, nakalimutan ko ang assignment sa Philosophy, nadapa ako sa school atrium sa harap ng maraming tao dahil late na ako sa Math, tapos ngayon bumagsak pa ako sa long quiz sa calculus.

“Okay ra na, ‘ter,” kunswelo sa akin ni Terry, ang kabarkada kong katabi. “Makabawi pa lagi ka.”

Di ako umimik. Ang mata ko ay nakatutok kay James na ngayon ay natutulog nang mahimbing sa sulok ng klase. Tinutulog-tulugan niya lang ang calculus pero na-perfect niya pa ang quiz. Asa ang justice ana?!

Hindi lang matalino si James, campus crush pa siya. Ang forever dean’s lister. Ang silent and mysterious type. Ang lalaking pinagdududahan namin ni Terry na bakla kasi walang interes sa mga girls maski anong pagpapa-cute na ginagawa sa kanya sa campus. Mga kawawang nilalang.

Napatingin ako sa bintana nang may marinig akong kulog. Sana hindi umulan. Wala pa naman akong payong. Dali-dali kong kinolekta gamit pagkatapos ng klase pero ‘di pa ako nakakalabas ng classroom ay bumuhos na ang ulan. Napabuntong-hininga na lang ako habang inilawit ko ang aking kamay sa labas ng waiting shed. Hinayaan kong mabasa ng malalaking patak ng ulan ang aking palad. Ang lakas ng ulan. Pero parang ‘di pa yata nakontento ang kung sinong nagkukulam sa akin dahil bigla na lang may nakabangga sa akin sa likod. Buti na ‘di ako dumiretso sa putikan.

“Pagbantay pa gud!” naiinis kong nasambit sabay lingon sa likuran. Namatay sa lalamunan ko ang iba pang mura nang makita kong si James pala yun.

Inayos niya ang kanyang glasses at tinitigan ako ng masama. Parang ako pa yata ang mali. Antipatiko rin pala si Mr. Perfect. Wala yatang balak mag sorry.

Tinalikuran ko na lang siya. Sa halos mag-iisang taon naming pagiging classmates sa minors, ni isang salita ay wala kaming nabitawan sa isa’t-isa. Ayaw ko rin siya kausapin, baka kasi matameme lang ako sa kanyang pagka-genius.

“Wala kang payong, ano?” bigla niyang tinanong.

Napakurap na lang ako nang may bigla siyang ipinukol sa aking mga kamay. Itim na folding umbrella.

“Basahin mo,” ang dali-dali niyang sinabi bago siya sumugod sa ulanan.

Binuksan ko ang payong para habulin siya. Bakit niya binigay sa akin ang payong niya at nagkakaripas sa ulanan? At anong babasahin? Di kaya dapat libro ang kanyang ipahiram, hindi payong? Nakaka-ilang hakbang pa lang ako nang may pumigil sa aking boses.

“Pabayaan mo na yun,” wika sa akin ni Adrian, ang isa sa mga kakilala kong kabarkada ni James. “Hindi mo rin mahahabol yun. Umuwi ka na, Kaye.”

Napatingin na lang ako paibaba at sinundan ang isang maliit na papel na inaaanod ng tubig.

Kinabukasan, nag-aalinlangan akong lumapit sa kanya. “Adto na uy,” sambit ni Terry, sabay tulak agad sa akin sa direksyon ng kinauupuan ni James. “Ako gikapoy tan-aw sa imo. Di lagi to mamaak.”

Iniabot ko kay James ang kanyang payong at pinasalamatan siya ng tahimik. Wala man lang ka-reareaksyon. Tiningnan niya lang ako, parang may hinihintay.

“Nabasa mo?” bigla niyang tinanong nung aaksyon na akong babalik sa silya ko.

“Ang alin?”

Sumimangot siyang bigla. “Wala. Kalimutan mo na,” nayayamot niyang sabi bago ako talikuran.

Natatawang tinapik siya ni Adrian sa balikat. “Sabing lakihan mo pare, eh.”

Sa kalagitnaan ng calculus, ‘di ko mapigilang magduda na may nakatingin sa akin. Eksaktong pag tingala ko sa notebook ko, nagbangga ang mga mata namin ni James. Sinimangutan niya akong muli bago siya lumingon sa ibang direksyon. Ang sungit naman ng lalaking ito. Sarap upakan.

Bumuhos na naman nang malakas ang ulan pagkatapos ng klase. At katulad ng kahapon, nakalimutan ko na naman ang payong ko kaya ayun, stranded na naman ako.

“Wala ka pa rin bang payong?”

Hindi ko na kailangang lumingon para malaman na kay James ito nagmula. Hindi ako umimik. Iniabot niya ang kanyang payong sa akin.

Tinitigan ko lang ang payong. Kanina, ang sungit niya sa akin, ngayon, asal anghel naman siya. Menopausal siguro ‘tong taong ito.

“Kunin mo na sabi eh,” wari niya. “Mahirap nang mabasa sa ulan.”

Nag-aalinlangan kong kinuha ang payong.

Ngumiti siya sa akin. Sa ’di maipalwanag na dahilan, bigla akong nag palpitate. “Basahin mo,” bigla niyang inutos bago isinukob ang hood ng jacket niya at sumugod sa ulanan.

Napangiwi ako habang tinitingnan ko siyang umalis. Tinitigan ko ang payong. Niyugyog. Pinaikot. Binuksan ito at ineksamin. Ni isang design o letra wala. Itim lang talaga siya na payong.

Nang nagsisimula na akong magduda na inuuto lang ako, isang maliit na papel ang nakita kong nakasiksik sa wire ng payong. Aabutin ko na sana nang bigla itong tinangay ng malakas na hangin. Nahulog ito sa basang lupa. Dadamputin ko pa sana nang may napadaan at naapakan ang papel. Kung ano man ang laman nun, hindi na siya mabasa dahil natabunan na ng tubig at putik.

Oops. Patay.

“Sorry sa kodigo mo kahapon,” mahina kong sinabi pagbalik ko ng payong kay James kinabukasan.

Napatingin sa akin ng matalim si James. “At bakit naman ako magbibigay ng kodigo sa ‘yo?”

Gusto kong umatras. Nakakatakot ang aura na nanggagaling kay James ngayon lang. “Um, ano, n-nahulog kasi sa putik…” nauutal kong ipinaliwanag. “Pero sa laki nung papel para kasi siyang kodigo…Ano pala yun?”

“Wala yun,” sabi niya sa tono na parang asar. “’Di mo na kailangang malaman.”

Sa tabi niya, napahalakhak si Adrian at tinapik ang kanyang balikat na parang pakunswelo. “Give up ka na ba? Ikaw kasi, napakator--”

Hindi na natapos ni Adrian ang kanyang dinadakdak. Bigla siyang tinapunan sa mukha ni James ng hard bound na History book na naging sanhi ng kanyang sandaling pagkawala ng ulirat.

Tumunog ang bell. Kakatapos lamang ng klase.

“Oi, Kaye.” Bigla akong napalingon at nakitang papalakad sa akin si Adrian. May dinukot siya sa kanyang backpack. “Pinabibigay ni James,” wika niya sabay pakita ng itim na payong. Napansin ko agad ang maliit na card na nakatali sa may handle nito.

Lumingon ako sa mga bintana. “Pero wala namang ulan.”

Nagkibit-balikat si Adrian. “Malay ko ba dun. Nautusan lang ako.” Bigla siyang ngumiti, para bang may nalalamang scandal. “Pero di ba gusto mong malaman kung anong gusto niyang ipabasa sa ‘yo?” Itinuro niya ang maliit na card. “Eto na ang pagkakataon mo.”

Tinaasan ko siya ng kilay pero kinuha ko pa rin ang payong. Pagbasa na pagbasa ko pa lang ng card, biglang sumurot ang dugo ko.

Naabutan ko si James sa may shed, mag-isang nagkakalkal ng bag niya.

“Anong ibig sabihin nito?!” galit kong sinambit pag dating ko sa harapan niya. Kasing kulimlim ng kalangitan ang aking mukha.

Napatingin siya sa akin. “Ikaw pala ang kumuha ng payong ko. Akala ko si Adrian.”

Mas lalo akong nairita. Hinalbot ko ang card sa payong at iwinagayway sa mukha niya. “Bastos ka talaga!” Gusto ko siyang ihulog sa bangin o ipakain sa mga piranha. “Ang kapal mo! Manyaaak!”

Sumimangot siya. “Ano bang problema mo?” May gana pa siyang umarte ng inosente. “Nahihibang ka na ba? At ano ‘to?” Kinuha niya ang card at binasa ito ng malakas.

“Let‘s have sex, baby. I know you want to.
Love, James.”

Nanlaki ang kanyang mga mata. Sa hitsura, mas mapula pa siya sa kamatis.

“ANAK NG TOKWA! ADRIAN, GUNGGONG KA TALAGA!” sinigaw niyang bigla. Sa lakas ng boses niya, nagliparan ang mga ibon sa kalapit na puno. Sinundan niya pa ito ng iba pang mura para sa kanyang kaibigan. Nilamukos niya ang card.

Natigilan ako. “H-hindi ikaw nagsulat nun?” Ngayon ko lang siya narinig magmura .

Hindi niya ako matingnan ng diretso. “Hindi,” halos pabulong niyang sagot. “Hindi ko ‘yan handwriting.” Napansin kong biglang namamalat ang boses niya. Isinuot niya ang kanyang cap para maitago ang kanyang mga mata. “Isa pa…bakit ba ako magsusulat ng ganun ni hindi ko nga masabi harap-harapan na gusto kita?”

Hindi ako makapaniwala. Halos umabot sa lupa ang baba ko sa gulat.

Napabuntong-hininga siya at binigyan ako ng pilit na ngiti. “Kalimutan mo na ‘to. Sorry talaga sa istorbo.” Inayos niya ang kanyang backpack. “Sige, Kaye.”

Nagsimula nang umambon. Binuksan ko ang payong at hinabol si James. Isinilong ko siya. Hindi maitago ang gulat sa kanyang mukha. Mas gwapo pa pala siya pag namumula.

Hindi ko mapigilang ngumiti. “Ang taas ng IQ mo pero ang baba naman ng EQ.”

Tuluyan nang bumuhos ang ulan pero hindi ko na ito inalintana.

“Mahirap nang mabasa sa ulan,” sinabihan ko siya.

Isang matamis na ngiti ang dahan-dahang dumapo sa kanyang labi.

Anime Insanity: The Preview

Okay, since I have got nothing much to do these past couple of days, I have spent most of my time downloading and watching anime. You see, during the olden years of college, especially in my third and fourth year in nursing, I have become so busy with extra-curriculars and academics that there was hardly any room for anything else. The school paper alone was a handful, and to top that, I am usually the person in charge when it came to group projects and paperworks, academic-wise(blame it on my obsessive-compulsive personality).

So, anyway, now that I've got loads of time on my hands (and since my dad doesn't seem to have any plans of funding my driving school classes because of his apparent prejudice against women drivers...don't ask), I've preoccupied myself with anime watching. It's been so long since I've watched anime that I enjoyed. Good times, really.

And since I've noticed I hardly update my blog, I decided that I'd just post my reviews on the anime series that I've watched recently. Some of the anime may have been released years ago (those that I have failed to watch during elementary and high school), or the latest ones fresh from Japan. Regardless when they were made, I'll just offer my -er- views about them.

Are you ready? I know I am. Weee~!

What Now?

It’s been almost a month since I graduated. As far back as elementary, I have always looked forward to finishing college. Back then, it meant freedom from assignments, from terror teachers and from hours of boring lectures. When high school rolled in, the goal of finishing tertiary education seemed within reach. Just a few more years, I told myself and I’d be rid of extra-curricular activities, interschool competitions, and the stress of academics. Finally, when college came, I could almost grasp the diploma just beyond the horizon. It had been a long and grueling academic experience. Almost two decades, as I had shifted courses and began from scratch in college.

Back to the present. I’ve finished a baccalaureate degree. I have my diploma. However, I seemed to have expected too much from graduation. After doing overtime in college, I had thought I would be one of the few people in the graduation ceremony to be actually teary eyed and bask in all the graduation-related bliss. Unfortunately, the graduation day fantasy I had been replaying in my head since time immemorial never really materialized…or maybe my expectations were a little too fantastic to be real. I found myself thinking how my graduation was rather anticlimactic. I was excited, but it was not the same excitement I had pictured myself all those previous times before. I didn’t cry. I wasn’t deliriously happy. I didn’t even throw my graduation cap come the end of the commencement program. I felt…wala lang. It was as if it were just another normal event, and not some life changing, memorable, ecstasy-filled occasion I would remember as long as I lived. I’m a bit disappointed, to be honest.

I don’t really know why I was felt rather detached from my graduation when it is one of the few events I have been waiting for. Maybe partly because deep down I could still not reconcile the fact that I could never be a UP grad. Or maybe because I have little love for the college I had to call my Alma Mater. Or maybe it was due to me not being able to take post-graduation pictures with my friends as we had lost each other in the large crowd.

Whatever the reason for my less than sterling view of my graduation day, still, I am happy and content that at least I graduated. I would now be less of a burden to my parents since they don’t have to worry about paying exorbitant tuitions. I would now be able to find work so I can take care of my family. I would now be able to make a difference, however small, in the world.

But in perspective, all those goals still feel like years away from obtaining. I still have exams to pass, experience to attain and a lot more expenses to shell out. The future seems a lot more intimidating because it’s not as predictable as when I was still studying. While schooling, you get used to the usual paces. You wake up, attend classes, go home, study, make projects, sleep. It’s all very predictable and safe. You know what will happen next because you are still in the safe cocoon of education. But after graduation, there is a sense of insecurity. The future isn’t as constant as it was before. You don’t know what’s going to happen next. Will you find a job? Where will you apply for work? Will you like your work? Will you be satisfied with your employment? These are some of the stuff you can’t help but ponder after you’ve gotten your diploma.

I am now one of the thousands of unemployed in the Philippines. I have a degree and yet I am still dependent. But I, like all the other fresh graduates out there, have the potential to earn a lot and make a difference in the world. It’s a paradoxical stage. It really is up to the person if he or she is determined enough to succeed. And I will succeed, darn it!

Right now, I’m reviewing for the nursing board exams. I’m apprehensive and excited at the same time, but mostly it’s the anxiety that’s gnawing me.

But I’m optimistic.

Windswept

This is a short story I passed for our school paper's literary folio. Since I felt like updating my blog, but am too tired from review to actually write anything, I'll post one of my stories instead. Unlike my story in fanfiction.net, this doesn't involve anime at all. ^_^

The gorgeous picture below is from peachysticks on Deviant Art.

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Windswept

Eric closed his eyes and savored the cool, salty breeze and the fine sand between his toes. He liked this place. It brought back fond childhood memories.

“You‘re early.”

Eric opened his eyes. She was here.

“You‘re late,” he replied with a smirk.

The girl giggled. Her laughter reminded Eric of bells, light and tinkling. Careful not to wrinkle her summer dress too much, she sat beside him. “You‘re beginning to look older than me,” she commented.

Eric snorted in amusement and looked at her from the corner of his eyes. “And you haven‘t aged a day since we last met,” he responded. He reached for a lock of her wavy, raven hair and twirled it around his finger. “You looked as if you never even had chemo.”

The girl gave him a bright, cheeky grin. “So, have you snagged any girls lately?”

Eric gave her a pointed look. “You know you‘ll always be my number one.”

The girl gave him a soft, fond smile. “I know.”

Sighing, Eric laid back on the white sand. He idly watched the fluffy, white clouds drift above them. “I think they‘re starting to suspect.”

The girl pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin between her knees. “Really now?” An amused smile flitted on her lips. She stared at the waves lapping nearby.

Eric lazily closed his eyes. The sunlight was starting to hurt his eyes. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “They must have finally noticed that I always come here.”

The girl brushed a few unruly bangs from his face. “You look troubled.”

Eric locked eyes with her. “Mom and dad are starting to think I‘m crazy.”

“Maybe you are.” The girl laughed.

He sat up. “I just graduated Magna cum Laude at the most prestigious state university in the country,” he stated. “It‘s rather unbelievable if I just lost my mind. And besides, we‘ve been seeing each other for two years already. Don‘t tell me I was crazy for that long.”

“I guess not,” the girl agreed, looking thoughtful. “But I don‘t think they would understand.”

A bittersweet smile appeared on his lips. That was true.

“They‘d probably tell me to stop going here,” he told her sullenly. “I might never see you again.”

The girl looked at him with sad eyes. “Don‘t say that.”

There was a pregnant pause. The ocean breeze, once pleasant, suddenly felt cold and biting.

“I missed you so much. Every single day,” Eric choked out, swallowing a painful lump in his throat. “I don‘t want to lose you all over again.”

The girl gently shushed him. “Little Eric‘s still a crybaby at heart, I see.” She engulfed him into a tight hug. “Don’t worry. As long as you need me, I‘ll be here. I promise.”

Eric felt better. She never broke her word.

When he got home, Eric found his father waiting for him at the living room.

“Where have you been?” he demanded quietly.

Eric made a beeline for the stairs. He knew where this conversation was headed. They‘d had it a couple of times before. “You know where I‘ve been. It’s the same place I go to every month.”

“Your mother and I have heard stories that you‘ve been talking to yourself there. Have you stopped taking your meds again?”

Eric froze mid step. He looked over his shoulder. “It‘s not like you could stop me from seeing her anyway,” he retorted coldly. A few seconds later, his father heard his room slam shut.

Mr. Lopez wearily sat down on the armchair. On the coffee table was a picture of a girl and an even smaller boy building a sandcastle. Both Eric and Carol loved the beach.

Just as he was about to reach out for the frame, it toppled off the table. Picking it up, Mr. Lopez saw a crack over Carol‘s side of the picture. He stared at his daughter’s face. He had always compared her to the summer breeze, carefree and gay. Everyone loved her. Eric, in particular, adored his big sister.

But like the passing wind, she was gone too young, too soon. And Eric’s never been the same ever since.

Outside, the wind picked up. It seemed to hum as it made the dry leaves dance in its wake.

Ingrate

I am known for being cautious. I am wary, I hold my tongue (even if I am simply itching to retort something) and as much as possible avoid people, places and events that may bring me trouble. I play safe to remain safe. I do what is necessary to stay on the good side of people. Because in the long run, if I ever commit something purely humiliating or undignified, or need help on something, I won't have to endure the scrutiny or harsh comments of people. It's rather spineless, now that I think about it, but I don't want my life to be even more complicated than it is already.

I have become even more cautious when I joined the school paper. In DDC, school publication staff seem to have a notoriety that rivals mass murderers or plunderers. Unlike in UP where you can virtually lambast institutions or people as you see fit without severe repercussions, DDC is the complete opposite. You may be part of the media but you feel voiceless. What you write is censored in the sense that you are afraid to say something against the school. Those in State U's who enjoy academic freedom may find it hard to understand why this is so, but when you are in a private college, you are reduced to a powerless student. Powerless in the sense that you can't openly voice out your sentiments or talk back to school officials especially when they are in the wrong. It's a frustrating environment to be in, especially for somebody who has enjoyed so much freedom from UP.

So how censored is Clarion? Really? It's not like we can't write things against the school. We can. But doing so spells a miserable stay. You can get expelled. You can be ostracized. You can be bullied by CIs because when it comes to matters involving DDC's Nursing Department, students and sections are endorsed. If you happen to be on the wanted list, the entire department will know. It's already tough being your average nursing student, how much more so when the CI handling you has a grudge for some damning article you wrote against them. See the picture? Unless you are tough enough to endure such repercussions, it is best to just shut up. That is why in Clarion, news and columns are always pro-DDC. It's disappointing. It's utterly frustrating. But you have to accept it. It's the only way you can get through the harrowing four years in DDC unscathed.

By my standards, I have been a very nice EIC as far as school-based articles go. Never did I slam any department or staff. I have kept my mouth shut instead of complaining about the demeaning treatment students receive from some staff and faculty, about the "palakasan" that pervades in every nook and cranny of the school, about the "Special Section" the Nursing department has set (which, in my opinion, promotes discrimination among students) and of the less than sterling way the school and the Nursing department handles complaints, enrollment, the ring hop and the graduation (utterly disorganized, but hey, I never wrote anything about it). I didn't even write anything about the grade fixing some students had (simply because he was the son of the Academic Director, he passed his NCM when according to CIs, he failed) and the special treatment a few students receive simply because they are known by the staff or faculty, or simply because they know how to smooth-talk their way to getting what they want. There are a lot of things I want to write about but I did not. I'm sad because I didn't have it in me to have the gall EICs were supposed to possess. I have kept quiet. I have sacrificed journalistic objectivity in exchange for passivity to keep myself trouble-free. I was supposed to be the voice of the students, but I have kept silent. But then again, I want to graduate. I do not want, nor need, the additional hassle of the administration or some other school department breathing down my neck.

I write my columns very carefully. I do not want to make public apologies, like my predecessor was forced to do after she inadvertently incurred the wrath of the Nursing dean. Her article was harmless, if you ask me, but somehow, many of the CIs and the dean herself took offense. Roh found herself apologizing for the article she made, since the dean threatened that she would not be able to graduate and that all her awards be stripped.

So who could blame the current staff, me included, for being so sedate over school-related matters?

The Clarion magazine was released late due to internal issues, but I am glad now that it was distributed after graduation. You see, when I came to the Dean's office today to have my PRC application signed one last time, I got the tongue lashing I wasn't even expecting. If the magazine had been released on time, I doubt I would get very far in my PRC papers.

After clarifying that I was indeed the Clarion EIC, she asked me if I had already gotten a feedback from her about the mag. I said no. She then said she was "disappointed" and I was "ungrateful" to the Nursing department. She said that in my column, I took the time to thank the AHSE Department (whom I was a student for two years) but I never thanked the Nursing department. She kept repeating how ungrateful I was and that if she knew I would write something like that, then she shouldn't have allowed me to shift to Nursing. She said I should be thankful because without them, I wouldn't be one step closer to becoming a nurse. She added that I should be careful of the people I acknowledge. I should mention here that I thanked some CIs, but never the department itself.

I just kept quiet because I needed her signature. I never said I was sorry though. I skewed my face so it would seem like I looked pathetic and apologetic. After her 'lecture,' I mumbled my thanks and left.

Really, inasmuch as I wanted to play safe, there just has to be a tiny detail somewhere to do me in. I guess I can't please everybody. But regardless, did she really need to scold me for that? Did she really expect me to prostrate myself like Charm did on her column? Am I obliged to thank the department?

Her reaction to my article was the very reason why I never thanked the Nursing department in the first place. I disliked what she did to Roh (my EIC predecessor). I disliked how she was the only person during the tuition increase forum to strongly oppose an increase in the school paper budget (God knows how much Clarion needed the additional money). I disliked her for belittling our batch (suicidal batch ba...). And I dislike a lot of her CIs because they were either too arrogant, too strict, or did not bother to be helpful when students were virtually chasing after them for signatures on pink books and exhibit forms.

But there are a few CIs whom I respect and regard highly, but that is that. Don't get me wrong though. I am grateful to the department because the things I learned are my stepping stone to a career in nursing. However, I was not obliged to thank them in print. She should not be angry with me because it is my right as a journalist to thank those whom I feel I should thank. It was against my beliefs to thank a department that I am not very fond of in general.

She calls me ungrateful. Maybe I am, in a way. But with the way she acted and responded to such a minor detail, then I do not regret not thanking her department at all.