Using E- Prime Language

Like a flower left alone to stand under the pouring of the rain, I refused to surrender to life’s adversities and chose to stay rooted firmly to the ground despite the raging storm.

Having my parents separated even before I composed my first paragraph in first grade, I’ve learned at an early age that life won’t always be merry and  though fairytales are printed in books- ‘happily ever after’- however, stays in books.

Mom gave me Coleen Edrea Francisco Ematong for a name. I came into this imperfect world on the afternoon of August 18, 1992.

The first day my parents considered each other not as husband nor wife and not even as friends, mom took me away from the man who sired me. She sent me to her family’s home and I spent about two years with only an ailing grandmother and a nanny to look over me. I lived with cousins who considered me more of an outsider than family, aunts and uncles who loved making me feel like an outcast in their midst. I can never blame them though; I didn’t really belong in their bloodline. Mom’s biological uncle took her after her real father died. That uncle is the father mom came to know and the woman he married became her mother whom I also considered to be my grandmother.

I felt lonely and most of the time, alone. I longed for my mama and papa, at that time they were both in Dubai, working in different companies and refusing to see even each other’s silhouette. I wished of being with my father’s family, the only family I’ve ever been home at. When Mom finally came home, I thought everything’s going to be fine again. But to my dismay, matters went from bad to worse.

Mom dated men, I had another sister from one of them. I should have felt happy still but I had all the reasons not to. Mom inherited a small business from her parents but our finances to sustain the status of the business dwindled due to her being irresponsible…. a lot of things happened. They happened, and though I feel ashamed of having to reveal them- for some reasons, I feel glad they had transpired in my life. After a couple years, I had a car accident which had caused me a fractured clavicle and also made my father come home from Dubai. Papa then brought me back to Doña Juliana where I reside up to this day.

Well, they say I have a life and yes, I have struggled to live it well. I tried to achieve something. I studied when needed and refused to open my notes too whenever my mind just want to wander somewhere else. I wrote a lot, I made all the hurt I’ve had in the past as my ink and I must say- I rarely run out of an equipment to write.

I love my family, I’d do everything for them. I love my friends, I’d die for them. I love myself, I dream a lot and above all… I love God, He gives me a reason to still be here despite anything and everything that comes my way.

I cry a lot, I laugh so much, and I feel weak when I’m in love. I made my way through the most difficult points in my life always almost giving up but every time I think of quitting, I think of those people who love and believe in me then I start to believe in myself again.

I’ve come to realized that the world has no responsibility to protect any of us from getting hurt. And so I taught myself to always be enduring, no matter how severe the wounds Life would cause me.

Daddy Lord made me a fighter, and never a quitter.

Beyond our Despair

About a year ago, I went to The Spectrum Office and asked for a copy of the application form since I wanted to write for the Publication. I came by and knocked at the office's door, a rugged looking guy welcomed me and gave me what I came for. His aura was something I wanted to have as my own. Despite his rugged, rebellious appearance, he exuded authority and liberalism.

I got a glimpse of the office's interior, it wasn't the kind of office where everything was neat and organized. It was cold in there but it wasn't gloomy. If one should take a look at how it is inside, that person would most probably say that the office is a home of extremely busy people. I told myself, "I want to be in here,".

Weeks after, I took the test. It was.... dreadful.

I always thought that I could write, my teachers in High School also told me that I had a knack at it but while I was taking the test, I came into a conclusion that they were totally wrong to feed me with so much encouragement. Everything I knew in writing seemed to have drifted away, even my vocabulary ran out of words for me to use.

What I only seemed to have had in mind at that time was absolute nothing.

When I went out of the room where the applicants took the test, I didn't think that I'd pass but, I did. I was called for an interview and though I was sure that the editors were never impressed with the way I answered the questions they've thrown at me, I ended up getting hired.

I know I did apply as a feature writer and though they didn't hire me for the position I applied for, I was more than happy to have seen my name under the list of the Newspaper Writers hired by The Spectrum's Editorial Board that Monday following my interview.

The first task given to me was to write three news articles and one environmental story and submit them in a span of three days. I didn't have any background in writing a news story and so the editors had to scrub me a couple of times until I finally nailed them (if I even did nail them :] ).

I remember having to get out of the office several times just to sob and wipe the tears away because I felt so pressured and it seemed for a lot of times that I was about to lose my heartbeat at the thought of getting terminated.

My life went that way for several months, but the idea of quitting never crossed my mind.

I let my editors teach me, I listened to what they had to say, believed in them, dreamed and prayed that one day, I'd be better.

I was so contented at being a newspaper writer, I must say...

I fell in love with news writing.

When the biggest wave came to the existence of the Publication and swept our resources out in the middle of the Academic Year, one by one, the people I considered as the standing pillars of the organization tailed off. I cried myself into sleep every night wondering who would quit the next day. My dream of becoming better at writing lost its shimmer gradually. It may sound selfish but the first thing I worried about was, "Who would teach me?"

I went to the office almost every time I don't have class hoping that I'd hear some good news but there was just none.

For months, I went in and out of the office feeling helpless and a lot of times... Hopeless.

I was just grateful for those who did not leave until the end, for those who continued helping the Publication even after they were gone.

My fear of being terminated alleviated somehow. The fear was replaced with the urge to continue the struggle initiated by the editors I have always looked up to. I made it my task to become a better writer not only for myself but for the people I have considered as my brothers and sisters in the ministry that I have committed myself into, the Ministry of Journalism.

Gone were those days when I feared to hear of another editor leaving his/her post, gone were those nights when I felt bad towards those who left.

I forced myself to cease feeling helpless and to quit comparing myself to a plant who lost the gardener who should nurture it.

Maybe there is a reason why they had to go, and it's not like it was their wish to go anyway. There's such thing in life which we call CIRCUMSTANCE that leads all of us to various points in life.

Perhaps, the reason why the gardeners had to leave is for us to see how firmly we are rooted to the ground where they had planted us.

Soon, we'll grow just as sturdy as how the Publication has been for the past 53 years.
 


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For everything, I thank everyone...

1st of June, 2010

I still find myself in most part of the day feeling nothing.

I want to write how I feel so I could take them out of me and get rid of them. I'm trying so hard to press the letters of the keyboard to make a word, I'm trying to think of words so I could compose a sentence, I'm trying to think of what to write, I'm trying... and it's just so hard.

I am not in touch with my emotions. All I know is that I am not okay.

I want to be okay. But,



I just am not. :[