A Dog’s Purpose is comedy-drama film that was first released in USA on the 25^th of January 2017. It was directed by Lasse Hallström who was also the director of Chocolat (2000). The movie is based on the 2010 novel of the same name by W. Bruce Cameron who is also one of the writers of the film. The promising motion picture charmingly narrates the reincarnated lives of a devoted dog, Bailey, as he tries to answer the greatest question that continues to haunt him in every single life: “What is my purpose?”

The movie is undeniably insightful. It touches on the tender devotion of dogs to humans and their love that lives beyond words. It delivers a poignant storytelling and crisp, clear cinematography that accurately captures the most vulnerable moments that ultimately appeals to audiences, especially families. Its concept of dog reincarnation is an interesting take. It also shows a different array of people’s personalities, exposing their true nature by how they treat animals. Overall, it is an immensely relatable story to different facets of animal lovers.

The movie isn’t entirely impeccable. Some supposedly tear-jerking scenes seem forced and awkward to the point that induces cringing. Bailey is an inconsistent speaker or more accurately, an inconsistent thinker. His observations range from astute and wise to the usual, simple thoughts of a dog.

Bailey is an instinct-driven mammal, and a mammal asking philosophical questions directing to its own existence is definitely a first –and actually, disturbingly morbid.

The plot is rather shallow and other dog lives weren’t delved in a much sufficient depth that will satisfy mature audiences. It is no doubt a kid’s movie, with the supervision of adults of course.

Though with its flaws, A Dog’s Purpose will mercilessly tug at your heartstrings, evoking your rawest emotions. You will find yourself exclaiming “Aw” before the movie even ends.  

We could also relate to Bailey at some point in our lives where we question the point of living in itself. But, we could take his piece of advice and believe that what truly matters the most is that we must be here now. Have fun and live in the moment.

So, dog-loving families, drag your kids to the living room and pop in A Dog’s Purpose in the DVD player, your lovable canine lazing over your connected thighs. Other families, simply ignore the nosy boycotts and just enjoy the cute doggie-goodness this movie brings. It’s worth a watch.

War in Marawi

Mindanao has been a barren battlefield for several decades since the 1960s. The rapid thumps of footsteps on grass and the succeeding blasts of gunshots are sounds that come in the absence of peace and are feared by the cowering civilians who have already seen too much. Hatred and miscommunication kill government security forces and notorious rebels alike.

This time, terror struck Marawi, Lanao del Sur on the afternoon of May 23. It has been two months and four days ever since the Armed Forces of the Philippines and the Philippine National Police lay siege against the 500-700 militants of the Maute Group, Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL)-affiliated Abu Sayyaf, and the Bangsamoro Islamic Freedom Fighters (BIFF). So far, there are 14 civilian deaths, 453 terrorists and 109 soldiers.

The war in Marawi disheartens me because it seems like peace is a far-fetched dream for Mindanao and violence is a rational resort to disagreements instead of diplomatic means. The innocents there have been living in a life where fear prevails instead of happiness. These terrorists are sinister beings who delude themselves into thinking that all these killings will bring them closer to their god. Well, in fact, they are brothers to the devil himself.

It is only just that the Armed Forces defended our motherland. It is unlikely that these militants will lay down their weapons and talk. We could only hope that one day their conscience will overrule their fundamentalism and cease this needless fighting.

A New Kind of Different

Through the years, I've never been one to willingly involve myself in grand social events, such as acquaintance parties. Wherever I go, I tend to bring a heavy aura that guarantees awkwardness in conversations.

With countless failed attempts to be gregarious since childhood, I have become an independent, solitary person who enjoys the thought of being alone, relishing in the simple pleasures of life: the feel of a book's pages under my fingertips, the fresh air that I inhale, and my own personal space, the only place where I am entirely free to be myself. So with that, social gatherings aren't very enticing to me unless my small group of peers is attending as well. Otherwise, I would skip it out and maybe, read a novel at home.

But it wasn't the case during the acquaintance party for the senior high school department.

I'm not sugarcoating anything, but my classmates now are entirely different from the ones I had before, in a pleasant way of course. In my grade school and junior high school years, it was not hard to notice that there established a wall that divided other people from me –or more accurately, me from other people.

And now, I love that I'm no longer in that pedestal that other people envisioned I was on before. I love that they see me for me, rather than what I was known for. I love this different and this different will continue to spur me on to try new things now that I'm no longer restrained by anything. Now, I will be able to turn the tables and prove to her that I will be remembered.

During the 24th of July 2017, I wasn't supposed to come to school because I joined a book event that lasted longer than what I would've liked. But despite my disheveled appearance and my exhausted calves, I packed my mother's homemade spaghetti and finally rode a jeepney after ten minutes of squinting at route signs on windshields of incorrect others. I knew I was a few hours late when I checked the huge wall clock by the school entrance, but the fun made up the lost time.

Though the density of the crowd made me dizzy and I had to sit in a corner almost the whole time, I managed to enjoy the event with my friends. I almost lost my voice in the chant competition and also, when I was cheering for my talented friends who represented our strand for the school jingle interpretation and danced elegantly. I also made a friend –a beautiful deaf girl who was invited to the program by her younger sister. With a silly face on, I took pictures with my other friend whose dress had the same shade of blue as mine.

We all ate and laughed at our own antics. I was amused to find the spaghetti container empty after I went some food in the main table. We passed and refused leftover puso from one another, stuffed some in someone's bag, filled each other's cups with sparkling soda, initiated a food eating contest and looked at one another with wide, teasing smiles. After which, my friends and I went down to find a sparsely occupied quadrangle, we grumbled when the staff turned off the colorful lights of the big stage just when we were about to take a groufie, danced sloppily to the upbeat music and commented about the voices of whoever sang.

It was a whirlwind of a night and if I was asked if I would live it again, you'll never hear a 'no' from my mouth because when it happened, I felt that it was the start of my real adolescent days, one that is brimming with enthusiasm and life. I don't see myself as impartially sociable right now, but I consider myself as an open-minded and open-hearted individual that only hopes to change herself into someone that is better and has incredible faith in her own abilities and principles.

The Most Beautiful Poem

            All my life, I have written for contributions, deadlines, grades, recognition –the single spark of hope that my name would be immortal. A selfish dream it might seem, but doesn’t everyone wish to be remembered? To leave a mark in this world?

You see, immortality through written words is the most powerful kind. Memories die, words live on. And medium, like paper and the internet, never runs out. They evolve. Words may be forgotten, buried under countless of others, but they wait and wait –until one reads them again. And maybe, time is not as powerful as we think, because it can never diminish the meaning of our words or the intensity of our feelings.

Never once, I had written for myself –until now. This is me, stripped of fancy words incomprehensible to most, of vague metaphors and insincere proses better off tossed out the window. And this is all because of a single, honest poem: Textbook Statistics by Arkaye Kierulf, an immortal poet who illustrates the beauty of the world through candid onslaught of facts, numbers and statistics. Though, I discovered this piece in such a short notice, scrolling amongst thousands of results of “the most beautiful poem” in Google, it has connected with me in ways hundreds of contemporary poems have failed to do.

“On average, 5 people are born every second and 1.78 die.

So we’re ahead by 3.22, which is good, I think.”

Were those lines from the poem? Yes.

And finish what you start, right? If I started as honest, I’ll finish as honest.

Textbook Statistics does not follow any formal structure or a rhyme scheme. Those were two lines out of seventy. And if you read everything, it does not possess rhythm and the lines seem to be previously part of a paragraph or more, and hitting the ‘enter’ key somehow transformed it into poetry.

“Time it takes for a flower to wilt after it’s cut from the stem: five days.

Time left our sun has before it runs out of light: five billion years.”

Facts, number, and statistics are known to share one infamous characteristic: coldness. They deliver nothing but the truth, and never do they sugarcoat it. And I find that kind. Lies do not protect us from the blow. It propels us right into it.

A girl places a flower in a water-filled vase to enjoy its beauty for a longer time. Humans continue to plunge themselves into a dangerous study of the sun to possibly prevent its destruction. Information urges us to treasure things before they are long gone, or in a hopeful sense, find solutions in order to save them or at least, lengthen the time we have with them left.

“If you think loneliness is beyond calculation,

think of the mole digging a tunnel underground

ninety-eight miles long to China

in one single night. If you think beauty escapes you

or your entire genealogical tree, consider the slug

with its four uneven noses, or the chameleon shifting colors

under the arbitrary light. Think of the deepest point

in the deepest ocean, the Marianas Trench in the Pacific,

do you think anyone’s sadness can be deeper?”

Textbook Statistics forces us to rethink of our perceptions in life. Insecurities, fears and loneliness are not infinite –they only are for a certain period of time if you let them. This bittersweet poem delivers an important message that the universe is undeniably beautiful by citing all of these truths, awakening our awareness of everything and understanding that there is always something bigger and lesser than what we feel because it is always how we perceive the world that makes it a better place.

“So children grow faster in the summer,

their bright blue bodies expanding. The ocean, after all, is blue

which is why the sky now outside your window is bluish

expanding with the white of something beautiful, like clouds.

Fact: The world is a beautiful place—once in a while.”

We do not have forever and forever does not have us. But still, the world is a beautiful place –once in a while because once is the only shot we have in life and to see the beauty in everything makes that once our little forever.

This is my most beautiful poem: Textbook Statistics, written by Arkaye Kierulf. Thank you for listening.

Paper Solace

Something in the Night

I wholeheartedly sing my lines of Christina Aguilera's Reflection to my sister.

There is always something significantly beautiful about night shows –the way the night blanket would drape across the pastel sky at dusk and twinkle with thousands of stars and with the darkness, it would seem like the whole world is fading and there is nothing but the illuminated stage and people who anticipate a good time.

Everyone’s faces are dimmed, except for the fire of excitement in their eyes and their wide smiles. Everything is ethereal and magical, and you can’t help but wish that this moment would last for an eternity –where reality is just a faraway dream and happiness is not short-lived.

I love these moments, and when they happen, I try to paint everything in my mind and make them immortal in my heart. They are pleasant memories I go back to –memories I remember with tranquil, wistful feelings.

Naturally, I was tremendously happy when my sister and I were given a chance to sing on the bright stage, to be part of the enchanted night. But it was hard. We were anxious despite our constant practices, and I was fretting all over the possibility that I could jeopardized this show in Pardo for everyone. My fingers trembled backstage, but when I held my sister’s hand as I guided her up the stairs to the stage, epiphany washed over me. This is our night. Nothing would go wrong. Nothing could destroy it.

I held my microphone in a tight grip, a foreign feeling settling in my chest. I silently thanked my poor eyesight; it diminished any traces of anxiety as faces were reduced into mere blurs. And we sang, igniting the night as words smoothly poured out of our lips. We glowed, radiant as the morning star, and we didn’t care if ever we were out of tune. The evening was ours.

Buwan ng Wika

Hindi lamang pinupokus ng Buwan ng Wika ang alindog ng ating pambansang wika, ang Filipino, ipinapakita din nito ang mayamang kulturang taglay ng Pilipinas. Pinapaalala ng buwang ito sa bawat mamamayang Pilipino ang walang kapantay na kagandahan ng ating inang-bayan, habang patuloy ang panunukso ng modernong lipunan gamit ang matagumpay na buhay na inaalok ng mga banyagang bansa. 

Napapaloob naman sa kaakit-akit na kultura ng Pilipinas ang ating nakakatakam na mga putahe, mga nirerespetong tradisyon na patuloy nating isinasabuhay, at higit sa lahat, ang ating nakamamangha at maaalindog na kasuotan. Isa sa mga kasuotang ito ay ang terno, isang marikit at mayuming damit na espesyal na ibinurda para sa mga Pilipina.

T E R N O

Pinagmulan: NCR 

Sa kasaysayan ng iba't ibang mga damit ng mga Pilipina, labis na kinikilala at isinusuot ang terno. Nanggaling ang salitang "terno" sa wikang Espanyol na nangangahulugang "maitugma" kung kaya't ang kasuotan ay binubuo ng dalawang bahagi: ang pang-itaas at ang pang-ibaba.

Nagmula ang disenyo ng terno sa baro't saya na binubuo naman ng kamisa, panuelo, saya at tapis. Habang unti-unting tumataas ang manggas ng terno, tinanggal ang panuelo, at ang tapis naman ay inalis upang maging malaya ang kilos ng saya. 

Binagay ang mga natirang bahagi nito: ang kamisa at ang saya. Inilakip ang dalawa sa baywang ng babae upang maging isa ang damit. Gawa ang dalawa sa parehong materyal.

Ang seamlessness ng terno ay isa sa mga pinakamalikhaing katangian nito. Ang mga manggas nito ay matuwid at patag ito sa mga balikat na may hugis ng ginupit na pakpak ng paruparo. 

Noong ikalabing-siyam na siglo, nakamit ng terno ang mga katangiang nagpatangi nito hanggang sa wakas ng kolonyal na panahon. Isinusuot din ito ng kababaihan sa iba't ibang pagdiriwang sa bansa katulad ng mga prosesyon sa Flores de Mayo, Rigodon de Honor, gabi ng koronasyon ng mga beauty pageants, at sa mga prestihiyosong pagtitipon ng pamahalaan. 

Ang terno ay tinaguriang obra-maestra, klasiko — isang pambansang kayamanan.

Kaaya-aya naming dinadala ang aming maririlag na mga terno sa kulminasyon ng Buwan ng Wika.