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ENCHANTED ARTICLES

JANUARY - MARCH EDITION 2008

                                                                             Grown-ups Are Not Grown-Ups After All

  Nothing could be more rewarding than the sound of raindrops falling.

  This is something grown-ups would never consider true. Grown-ups would never appreciate the beauty of the
  rain. They would never realize the chance to rest, to imagine, to be detached, and to get inspired that each
  falling raindrop offers. They would never be able to see what is most essential around them because they
  forget the little secrets of their childhood.

  Growing up does not mean leaving the child in us behind. What use would memories be then? Growing up
  means more of remembering than forgetting. How else would we say we know how to tie our shoe laces if
  we haven't remembered our mother or our kindergarten teacher doing this for us?

  It is through constant remembering of the past that we are able to further our journey through life. This is
  growing up, remembering the little secrets of our childhood and bringing them with us through our journey.

  Grown-ups, unfortunately, forget these little secrets that once dwelt in their hearts. Some even try to totally
  erase them for the mere reason of filling their pockets with gold or of indulging themselves in the
  sophistications of this world.

  One of these forgotten secrets is this: "It is only with one's heart that one can see clearly. What is essential is
  invisible to the eye."

  That is a secret the fox, a friend of the little prince, shared with him in Saint-Exupery's masterpiece. That is a
  secret grown-ups forget. And it is because of forgetting this little secret that they don't realize the beauty of the
  rain. It is because of forgetting this that they don't seem to appreciate the essence of the simple things
  around them.

  Everything around us, no matter how little or simple it may seem, has essence that we often fail to see or
  ignore to see. We just have to give ourselves the time to search beyond what are eyes see, and listen beyond
  what our eyes hear to realize this. We should always put to mind and heart the wondrous ways of this little
  secret. We should be real grown-ups enjoying the sound of the raindrops falling, relishing the simplicity of
  things, remembering the little secrets of our childhood.

  Whatever happens, we should let the child in us live in our heart of hearts. We should not let them die with the
  graying of our hair or with the wrinkling of our faces. We should not add to the irony of the modern definition of
  the word 'grown-up' because grown-up, today, is not grown-up after all.

  kesongbaboy@yahoo.com
  Country: Philippines
                                                                        I Will Still Be Here

       Once there were bestfriends, namely Jonash (girl) and Justine (guy). They both grew up together, they
were both 15 years old of age then. Just when teens start to have crushes and learn to fall inlove. Jonash is such
a lovely lady, quiet type, and intensely, breathtaking pretty, no wonder lot of guys likes her and tries real hard to
court her, and Justine also a headturner, a certified handsome and crush ng campus type. lots of girls have a
crush on him and others even think that Justine and Jonash were lovers but sadly they weren't, they treasure their
friendship so much that they were so scared to fall inlove with each other, but secretly both of them like each
other and sadly they both don't have the courage to tell it to each other. They were filled with "WHAT IF'S" in their
mind. They were so scared...Just then one day Bobby, also a cute guy, courted Jonash. Jonash doesn't really
love Bobby, but she still accepted Bobby as her boyfriend, because Jonash was thinking that Justine doesn't
really like her. But Justine really does, he loves Jonash so much, that he was terribly hurt when he knew that
Bobby and Jonash have a relationship already. Justine cried and cried at home, alone, sadly he remembers his
happy times with Jonah. With his depression he got a cutter and cut his wrist, blood spilled out from his cut and he
died, but Justine didn't know that, on the day that he cut his wrist, Jonash broke up with Bobby, because she was
not happy and she realized that she really love Justine and so she was going to tell it to Justine, but when he
reached the house of Justine, she went directly to Justine's room and there she shouted, when she saw Justine
lying there in a dark corner, cold as ice. A letter on the wall written with Justine's blood says: "Jonash you're the
only girl I've ever loved. You mean the whole world to me, and I just wanted you to know that until my last breath,
you're the only girl and only person that I've ever thought of. I love you!! Whenever you call my name I would still
be here." Jonash bursted into tear's, just then she felt a cold wind kissed her in the cheeks and whispered "don't
cry, I will still be here." Jonash never fell in love again and as much as possible, she makes people remember that
"when you already feel loved, never let it go, because the hardest part in loving is having regrets in the end."

Dharmina Serabani
III-St. Pignatelli
ZAMBOANGA City, Philippines

LAST EDITION click here

OCTOBER LATEST EDITION 2007

A Reflection

by: Kelvin J. Culajara III-St. Ogilvie Ateneo De Zamboanga University

opedzz@gmail.com

Philippines

Question: Why is it important to understand the philosophies of different religions?

We all know that religion is a major aspect in every human being even up to now. And as well as being a

major aspect, it is also a major factor which patterns up our personalities, our culture, our personal

perspectives and even on how we interact socially. Our own religion also molds a big part in us which can

also be seen on how we manipulate our surroundings.

With these different religions, hidden within are prime principles and philosophies about the essence of

faith, and on how to lead a life derived from virtues. Why understand philosophies of other religions when

we have our own? Isn't it a sin and a signal of doubt to your own faith when you'll start learning about other

religious philosophies? Why waste your time? Why?

Simple! Since philosophy is commonly the primordial root of the convention of a religion, it is then easy for

us to understand and to value rituals that are found in a certain religion, and religion itself, too.

Understanding is really important because it enables us to go deeper on the physique of religion, and it

helps us see its value in the society.

Nowadays, because of various religions and principles, wars and divisions are indeed, visible. And as a

result, racism and discrimination are blatantly proliferating in any corners of any society. if we'll just have

the time to understand other religious philosophies, if many of us would just look forward towards religious

learnings, then racism, discrimination and other negative issues which are associated with the influence of

religion could be as well, diminished.

In summary, understanding the philosophies of our own religion or to other religions is very important.

because it could mend broken religious ties, and it could as well lead us to enlightenment and clarification

to the other religions. And if only, this could be made possible, then this would surely contribute into a

greater social mobilization.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

adows of Odalisque

‘The words you speak are paradigms of insouciance; cold yet so calming. Oh, how I wish I can break

the impenetrable

barriers between us, and show you the very reason why I shed tears almost endlessly

each night you never whispered

goodnight.’

‘I can barely say a word when I hear her name’. This line may sound cliche but it’s the closest way of

defining the

mentality I have since her presence was felt by mine. Some began to ask me who, others

had simply known everything;

some know absolutely nothing, while you might already have an idea

who she is. Such things really don’t matter, but

somehow, it felt like the old emotions began to haunt

me again. Everything looked the same, if not, similar in many ways.

Dejavu? Impossible. So I took a

closer look, examining the sequence of events that led me to this state. Within a

fraction of time, I

spotted it, and it turned out that the difference was quite obvious.

“Nothing’s certain,” I said as I paced to and from outside our classroom. The heat drove me insane for

a while, and

boredom combined with heat meant disastrous thoughts. I began to look around and

noticed other students doing their

own ways in eliminating the uneasiness. On the other side of the

fourth floor where are section is located are a few

neighbors, and people were also busy bustling in the

hallways as well as inside their rooms. Most of them were in

groups, and I easily recognized one of

them: ‘The Tikbae Society’ (I’m sorry but it’s the only title I can call these guys).

They are one of the

last hybrids of DotA players in high school; I and a few others possess the very same blood that

flows

in their veins. Unfortunately, the rest or most of the students in the lower levels are crappy, if not,

dorky and goofy;

recruiting is almost impossible, and this made us realize that we are the last

generation of students with both

intelligence and ‘stukaei-ity’ in one package.!

Since preserving our legacy is not an option, we thought the best thing we can do is live our lives to

the fullest in the

last days of our royalty. So much about them, my point is most of them will actually

take part in the script of this epical

play.

Yes, a play; a play one may find complicated and even ominous. The way some view it really doesn’t

matter, for the plot

is common and likely: from a total stranger to something that goes beyond certain

boundaries. You know what I’m talking

about, and in a sense, I think you had known the details before

I did. Now you see how common the setting is, so you

wonder why I would spend time writing about

something everyone can experience. Perhaps it’s something I like to take

deeper; or perhaps it’s a risk I’

m willing to take, where my blood is at stake. Neither I nor anyone knows the mystery of

why I chose

to engage in gambling myself as well as my heart in this duel, but I know it’s something worth my

sacrifice.

Misconceptions were already laid; some say I only want it merely for sheer challenge, others

say that it’s for my own

selfish desires. The only thing I was able to surpass such criticism was by

pretending numb, or remembering past

experiences that gave my struggling emotions rhythmical

convulsions. I was virtually immune to it. The only thing that

matters now is the truth that I hope will

prevail in the eyes of many. And with open arms, I could do nothing but embrace

the fact that I do like

her in so many ways, and it is only the beginning.

Like any other night, I arrived late, ate my dinner and faced the computer simultaneously. It is the only

pattern I know of

in spending my extra time when I arrive home out of the crevasses of school besides

studying and fulfilling my

requirements. Often, it takes a while before I can connect to the internet since

our connection was economic, but

surprisingly it was quite fast that night. The only thing I did when I

was able to connect was log-in to yahoo

messenger

and checked people online; in some cases, I

open the browser and review my accounts or simply download files and

songs. I felt lucky that

somehow, we had no requirements that day and I was free to dilly-dally and forget the pressure

in my

hectic schedule. Chatting turned out to be a hassle in that peaceful scenery, but there was no other

option left; in

a while, I started some online conversations with fellow students. Astonishingly, some

turned out to be quite interesting

which, in turn, depleted the boredom. Something caught my eye,

perhaps it’s someone I barely noticed in my list. She’s

someone from the higher year, and I was in

doubt if I’m going to call her ‘ate’ or not. Reluctantly, I started chatting with

her, like starting a basic

conversation with a total stranger. It was not long after I first met her online that she eventually

became

a friend, whether in my part or both of us knew that, it really doesn’t matter. Her classmate began

bugging me

about her, but I thought of it as something usual. I realized that she was sweet, but

carefree in a very intricate way; the

more I thought of her character, the more I was confused and I didn’

t know the reason why. Within the climax, she

signed out and I was left hanging and staring at the

blinking cursor blankly. Something whispering in the back of my

head began to annoy me, and it

became extremely irritating and louder in a minute. I was inquisitive with myself on how

the transition

happened so fast that I almost lost my composure; something like that never happened to me before.

Pretending everything seems to be clear, I signed out and turned the stereo of the computer on trying

to fill the empty

space with mellifluous songs. The lights were off, and I lied in bed totally awake,

thinking deeply under the shadows of

the moonlighted corner. A strange form of renaissance upheld me

as I forced my eyes to sleep by repeating her name in

my mind almost a thousand times. And the weird

thing is, the particular song itself, perfectly matched the strangeness.

‘How much longer, cause this keeps getting stronger? I wonder what she’s doing when I’m singing

myself to sleep’ The

play date of our theatrical play in our school was just a couple of days ahead,

and since I had been chosen as one of

its participants along with other students, it was not uncanny

that we had to prepare and practice as soon as possible.

We were assigned to provide the musical

tunes of the play, and that meant tiresome task of shouldering loads of

instruments. Yet it somehow felt

worth the burden, at least this was better than staying home for the rest of the day.

Music is also a

distinguishable part of my soul and everything I know about it is cherished by heart. That personal

interest gave me the joy and enjoyment of creating our own harmonies whenever we had the chance.

The last prayer of

the day signaled the start of practice, not that I was excited but I was dying to

escape the symbols of education. In just

a few days, I was used to the routine and it easily fitted my

watch. But though each day was no different from each

other, I knew that there would be one moment

that would change the cycle.

It is a belief that things are always expected to unexpectedly unfold. The certain event I dreamt of

happened the very

day I thought it would. In the middle of the routinely made evacuation, a friend

unknowingly grabbed me when I was

caught idle and began to say something I thought was irrelevant.

But I got his point when he guided me out my

dysfunctional system and uttered something that tickled

my curiosity. ‘That’s her,’ he said while pointing to a particular

girl that looked familiar. I stared at her for

a few seconds while briefly scanning my memory. Then I started to realize and

identify what I was

looking for, ‘Ahhh! Siya yung..yung, Yeah, you’re right,’ he said like he knew what I wondered about

few nights ago. I was too lazy to leave a comment so I continued on with the routine, though that

instance I was lost,

literally. The aftermath was unexplainable, it was a feeling that clanged within or

perhaps it was something that

‘emulsified’ my thoughts. Whether it was this or that, the only thing I

knew was the fact that an affinity exists in two

particular things, that itself sent shivers down my spine.

The night that day, I found it irresistible to have a conversation

with her. The first and only thing I was

able to type was the words ‘Nakita kita.’ After that, she began to ask me

questions of how and where

then strangely laughed herself out. I felt degraded that she still somehow knew me as a

stranger, but I

felt all right about it. This time, I slept not only with confusion, but with ignorance as well. ;Who the hell

she? Why am I acting this way?’ And yes, she was undoubtedly tantalizing.

Before, I kept on wondering why people who knew her laughed when I asked about her and mention

her name. I did

that for about three times, and each one had the same reaction, which in turn disturbed

me, of course. It was not until

someone mentioned her true name that I realized what people were

trying to say. Later that very day, I checked back my

messenger list still puzzled. I only found out soon

that her name in my list composed of her first name and the surname

of a female celebrity, which

perplexed me more. But some of her friends began to explain the reasons, and such

reasons were

really hilarious and some made me think that she’s still someone typical. Everything about her kept me

smiling each day; the worse thing is I was never conscious about it. Though in reality we, both, are still

strangers, I

already know many things about this woman even on the very night I met her. I know that

she’s addicted to a particular

celebrity, and that she likes underground music; she

loves to play musical instruments; I even thought of her as being a punk, and even her hobbies were

simply revealed.

Something mysterious exists between us. All these overwhelmed me, because every

time I thought of things, I remember

myself; well, except the celebrity part. And though we still only had

a glimpse of our entire personality, I knew that from

the very start, we share a common character and

an inch margin of differences. Someone like her is not ordinary,

someone entirely in one package. Her

beauty is unquestionable, and her totality amazes me. Sometimes, I act with

hauteur just to remove the

haziness and see things a little clearer. But she only grew cold, which somehow upset me,

yet her aura

remained and even continued to wrap me. I tried to evince something, even evoke the emotions, but I

often

felt rejected in a sweet way. A certain callousness complies with her charm and in her pride,

reflecting that there is

something special about her being, something not known. I thought of this as a

conspiracy, like everything boggled me

in one way or another. I seek for her words, like a baby intimately longs for its mother. But I knocked

myself back to

where I belong, and remembered once again that I was still a stranger to her.

Desperately, I attempted to get myself closer to her. I chat with her whenever she’s online, and this

turned regular every

night. I desired for the person behind her shadows, and going that deep is difficult,

if not, consequential. She showed

some hope, then took it back, and projected it again; what I’m

trying to say is, she’s erratic in a superlative level. With

these occurrences, it was inevitable for people

to link the two of us, and damn, it was irritating. But as time passed by, I

grew used to it and maybe

even her as well; often, I gave them a smile at times they annoy me (perhaps because it is

true in my

part.) But instead of preventing me from my goal, it only convinced and persuaded me to push harder

and put

a little amount of effort. Every night we had a short talk online, and it was enough for my

feelings to lull myself to sleep. I

once failed in asking her phone number, so I consulted one of her

friends as well as asked for some advice on how I

might approach her. Everything flowed smoothly,

and I tried to maintain it that way as much as possible; it would be

shocking or corrupting when I

immediately show her the concealed secret I had for her. If I do something like that

without thinking

twice and failed, all the torches that I lighted will simply fade, and that risk is too much for me to take. I

started it, and I had to pursue. The following week from the night I met her, we began texting regularly

when she’s not

busy or when I had the chance to. And still, a hint of coldness could still be seen in her

messages; but like any other

thing that kept on happening, I grew used to it. At least now, I could

reach her without connecting to our slow network.

Gladness is what I felt every night I stay late just to

know her more, and perhaps by then, I was no longer a stranger to

her. Her ‘goodnight’ was enough to

show me a glimpse of friendship, and it was totally enough for happiness to purge

me. Deeply, I was

moved by still voices in my mind and all the words she said resounded along with it. I found myself

under siege by my own emotions. For now, I started to long for her voice.

A week had passed, and though I already knew many things about this person and spent a reasonable

amount of time

conversing with her, we never talked personally or even seen each other face to face,

not once. So I searched for

ways on how I could meet her personally, or probably the only reason in

my mind was I wanted to hear her speak. She

thought that it was a great idea and agreed; I found her

answer with the opportunity I was looking for, so I willingly

planned a specific time for us to have what I

had in mind. I thought of a script, and believe it or not, it was my first time

to do something like that.

Often, I never plan on what to say, but this time is quite different. With the help of some of my

friends

and their annoying mouths, I was able to successfully place things in their assigned places. The

moment came,

and in a sudden, I grew extremely nervous and began to feel restless; it was not normal

for me to be that way, so I kept

on wondering why I was sweating and trembling. But it’s now or never.

I told her through text that I was a few tiles

away, and the instance I saw her, I approached her gently.

‘Hello,’ she said silently with a small voice. After I heard her

greeting, all my plans along with the script I

wrote in my mind came crashing down and my confidence was decreased

to nothing; the only thing

that came out of my lips was the word ‘hi’ and it came with a squeal; after, I began muttering

and

asking what I was supposed to say. I could not help but stare and be silent, and ended it with nothing

interesting

to say. Perhaps I was too nervous, but that cannot be since I never felt something like

such. But maybe this time, it was

different. Even now I still wonder why that strange occurrence

happened, and each time I thought of it, I felt uneasy or

even shut down. A view of her always speeds

up my heartbeat, along with a smile I only show to myself. Many knew

my feelings for her, and maybe

even she had the idea of what it was from the beginning. But it really doesn’t matter, as

long as I still

see a silver lining in the sky. At least now, I could hear her voice in my dreams.

The critic night of our theatrical play was just a few days ahead, and we were as busy as bees in

perfecting the

scenes and preparing everything for our best performance. She always inspired me when

I grew weary or jaded, and

sometimes gave me an adrenaline rush whenever I was caught tired. The

best thing was that I can freely say hi to her

after the unfortified establishment a few days before, since

almost everyone knew what was going on within me. I

wanted a conversation that would last long and

with certain interesting topics; but this still seemed improbable since my

schedule grew more hectic

because of the play. And at last, critic night came, the night we would be judged by our

performance.

Surprisingly, even with the lack of practice, we got good comments from the judges as well as positive

remarks that made us realize we still have room for improvement. I was happy that day, but it was only

partly because of

the success of the play. A few hours ago, I again met her down the school’s

cafeteria along with her classmates, most

were club members. Since they kept on calling me and

persuading me to do something, I thought of a way on how I can

satisfy their expectation. ‘Anung

gusto mo?’ I asked her if she wanted something to eat. The only thing I heard after was

applaud and

screaming, and that, itself, was self-explanatory. ‘Thanks. Pero kumain na ako,’ I think that’s what she

said to me. I smiled at her, and she smiled back, it’s the only thing I could do after the sensation.

Then, she was out of

my sight as quickly as she was before me; in just a few minutes, we were texting

again, talking about what happened a

while ago. Although she didn’t accept my offer, it was enough to

complete my day with joy deep within. Yes, a day

without her voice is like a day without food. She

once said that I was too sentimental, and I don’t know if I would accept

that as a compliment or not.

But what she saw was true, and there’s nothing left for me to

explain why. This happened the night before I wrote this sentence, and I knew that memories like such

would leave

something eternal. I saw myself patched to her, and a form of mutual understanding battled

in the existence of her

presence. The abstract animated into something concrete, and it was just

indescribable why it felt right. In other words,

I started to feel something special for her.

Of course, there are always obstacles along the way. One of her friends warned me about her status

as being in

barriers, others about her cold character and the like, some words were frightening like how

she turn down guys and

how a line of defenses surrounds her, and others had nothing to say at all.

But I see these things as something

common, since I once encountered all these puddles of mud in my

past. Yet I wonder again if this time, it would be

different. Like what I said, ‘Nothing’s certain.’ One

time, I dared to ask her out if she has time, but she only hit me with

parental restriction; this proves that

the peril I thought of was right. And often, she goes home early and get busy with

requirements of the

school’s curriculum, proving that education is something she held dear. And what if she's only

pretending in some things I see? What if a form of hatred or disgust is hidden from my sight? The things

I assume may be

right, not that I think about her that way, but a sense of foreboding has instilled itself

within the fragile. Such may prevent

me from revealing myself to her. Yes, I wanted to court her, but it

seems like many things are at stake. But I think it’s time

that I look to a place nearer than home,

something I often missed considering, something that could change the polished

tracks I laid before

her: Myself.

Nobody is perfect. That line serves to be the basis of equality in everyone, that no one can be the

best in everything. I,

myself, knew and understood the basic concepts of life and how I should live with

it. I’m no special than others; I’m

simply a common guy with a common life and common traits.

Everything about my self can be found in a million others,

and though I am made unique, such factors

are still unchangeable. Every time I thought of myself, I thought of how she

looked at me. What

chance do I have with someone so majestic? The probability seemed slim. My goal is not to play

with

her conscience, but to seek for answers if whether the ordinary can mend together with the perfect.

You say that

she is someone common; or maybe she, herself, considers that nothing seems special in

her character. What they say

doesn’t matter, for in my eyes, she’s the only girl I knew with all the

treasures I longed for with patience of heart.

Courting a demure and sophisticated lady may be the

hardest thing I would dare to do, and even the only thing I’ll do for

love where great things are in the

line. She’s too perfect, even to good to be true, and all those things are priceless, if

not, comes with a

price. It would be costly in my heart’s part, but I’m neither concerned of the cost nor of my emotions.

The question is, is she going to accept my words? Will she give me the chance? Such questions are

never meant to be

answered. You ask, ‘Why her?’ Though she, too, comes with imperfections, it was

engulfed by her smile. It’s not that

she’s one in a million as romance usually utters, but the exact

opposite: she’s a million in one, a fallen angel perhaps.

All I’ve waited is in front of me, the only thing

left for me to do was to decide whether to reach for it or not. But of course,

some instances would be

agonizing. And I find myself coming back to where I stood before, still confused and

obdurate. I have

no time to seek for reasons, let heaven, itself, answer everything. Everything seems obfuscated, but I

know of one thing: my heart beats only for her.

My own play has only started, and I still have no idea of the things that can happen. My days are

numbered, and each

one is made special by her. She may be unconscious about it, but it’s her own

mysterious ways that made me act

emotionally. But I don’t want to go impatient and pushed further

without thinking, I want to assure everything flows

slowly and surely. So far, the order never

experienced chaos. But in time, I need her cooperation; and if trust is not

established soon and her

absence still lingers, everything will be rendered useless and will lie shattered on the floor. I

say that I

won’t survive life without inspiration, and her role is somehow unstable. She’s my royal odalisque, yet

state is lower than hers. So many tears had already been shed, but each drop is never wasted.

Day and night, I vowed

that I would do everything just to show her what this soul is crying out, and I’m

ready to beat the odds.

Loving a stranger with all your heart without any means of control over my self and my emotions is

probably the

strangest thing I did. My loyalty towards myself is tested often; but this time, all these are

only for her. I wished that

hope will never stop guiding the way with that small yet eternal flame in the

abyss of love. What I fear is that hope will

turn out to be only an illusion, and that would be

destructive. Perhaps I’m selfish or perhaps I’m too exaggerating;

however, my selfishness is sweet to

the tongue and exaggeration is the only way I could truly express myself. Time is

not a factor, for its

pendulum is no longer at work, what I want is a chance: a chance to persevere and attune myself.

Yet

I still see myself as a wandering stranger, desiring for something that seemed to be so near yet

somehow

impossible to attain. She’s someone I never wanted, but she’s someone I needed. I see her

no longer as a stranger,

not even friend, but an entity that surpassed the boundaries I limit myself with.

Now, I could do nothing about it but

expect the best or the worst. For she may never learn the

essence of unbanding her tourniquets to let numbness

vanish. And I don’t want to lose her by showing

the truth, it would be too much. It’s not that she’s my property, but she’s

already a part of me. Oh

love, help me overcome fear, let her feel my pulse. Only love can make someone do all forms of

insanity in life.

Sometimes I could see with clarity that I have no chance of succeeding. But even if I fail, as long as I

would be able to

let her feel what I wanted her to feel, it’s enough to give me serenity in my sleep;

even if I succumb to failure, as long as

I could show her how much she means to me, it’s enough to

settle everything; and even if I have not been given the

chance to show her these things, as long I

won’t lose her, that, itself, is more than enough. I surrender into her arms,

bold and defenseless. How I

wished that I could feel her tender embrace, even if it can only be felt in dreams. My love

is unrequited,

the worst form of love one can imagine, the one-sided love. These unstable emotions are killing me

softly,

and it hurts like hell. It's a matter of sacrifice, of withstanding the deathly daggers. I've been

pierced by arrows and

slashed by swords, but I have to stand up for her sake, for neither death nor life

would send me back to the grave. My

nights are no longer the same; but at least now I could say

something interesting, that I love her with all my heart.

And indeed... it is very painful...yes...

But as long as I see her smiling... it’s worth the pain.

        By: jasper_andrew
       Philippines, Zamboanga City
       Ateneo de Zamboanga University (High School Student)