I was rummaging through the files on my battered, nearly obsolete hunk of plastic, metal, and wires that I dare call a laptop, and I couldn’t help but read through some of the short essays I wrote in the past year at Waldorf. Now that I’m transferring to O.B. Montessori, Greenhills for third year high school to get a taste of what it’s like to study in a big school, I’d like to share with you my favorite essays. As I was reading them and re-reading them, I had to fight numerous overwhelming urges to fix them and make them sound better. However, I resisted and here they are as original, unadulterated, and uncorrected as they were when I submitted them to my fantastic English teacher, Ms. Tintin Ongpin. She is, and continues to be, a source of motivation. I humbly dedicate these essays to her.
By the way, I had the option of going straight to fourth year due to the score on the entrance test, but I declined. I believe I had to achieve a knowledge level of an average grade 10 student, and my level was 11.6 or 11.7, can’t remember too well. Makes no difference anyway.
Peace is something that is only too rare in our life and times. A world of harmony and concord sadly only exists in fairy tales and bedtime stories. War ravages the guilty and the blameless alike. Why must our children suffer for things they had nothing to do with? I’m only 15, but I can sure as hell tell you I wouldn’t like my son to grow up in an existence devastated by politics, the greedy, and the dogs of war. We may reap what we sow, but we still have a chance to salvage something from the wreck. The world is not lost as of yet. But if people continue to spill innocent blood for their own personal gain, the chances of peace drift farther and farther, like a ship sailing away from a drowning man. We have nothing to lose and everything to gain by advocating peace. But let he who has no sin cast the first stone. Change does not come overnight, and what better place to start change than in our own home? The Philippines is in dire need of peace. Sure, things were a lot worse a few years back during those bloody wars in Mindanao with the secessionist rebels and kidnap groups, but people still die every week. Not just in Mindanao, but all around us. I would bet you the world that you won’t be able to read the daily newspaper without seeing a single story of a murder, theft, or rape. Is this what we proud Filipinos have fallen to? Change may not come overnight, but it won’t come at all if we don’t do something about it! But here we come back to the words of the Messiah: Let he who has no sin cast the first stone. Alas, it will be a long time before I will be fit to hurl a pebble. However, the glass is half-full, after all. There’s lots of room for improvement.
What exactly is art? Is it born out of boredom and lack of better things to do? Or is art simply a matter of expressing one’s self? Can the doodling of a toddler possibly be considered art? Since man first became capable of thought and reason, art has been around. Whether it’s mud drawn into intertwining scenarios of battles between beast and man, paint sprayed onto an unsuspecting wall in the dead of night, or shoes indelibly leaving their mark on fresh concrete, art has always been around. The religious folk might argue that God’s work is all around us, like the veins on the leaves that are on the trees that stand firmly planted in the ground, while the atheists will most probably insist that since God does not exist, nature cannot be considered art, since there was no artist to create it. But can there still be art without an artist? Gaze at a dying sunset while lying down on a windy beach with a loved one, and let’s see if you can honestly tell me that that sunset doesn’t evoke any emotions within you. Of course, your gorgeous girlfriend stripping right beside you may induce the emotions you might be having, but it’s irrelevant. Isn’t art intended to awake certain feelings in the mind of the beholder? I guess dog shit isn’t exactly art, but there are certain things in nature which you are definitely incapable of not calling art. Like that sunset, for example. But let’s not get back to that. From what I understand, there is a very thin line between "art" and "that thing is so abstract it looks more like a camel than a baby’s ass". There’s a difference between Picasso and boy-
kawawa-on-the-sidewalk, after all. Did I mention that art is not limited to paintings, sculptures, mosaics, and the like? If it did, that would really suck for the extremely visually challenged, also known as the
mga bulag. And if you happen to be both blind and deaf, too bad for you. Pay a visit to the Helen Keller monument you can’t see listening to the tour guide you can’t hear. But to get to the point, almost anything, if done well enough, can be transformed into an art. It’s up to the individual to make it happen.
My worst enemy stands 5’6" in sneakers, has short, black hair, and thick, bushy eyebrows. He has dark brown eyes and a prominent chin that occasionally develops the odd pimple. A loud and husky voice follows him around wherever he goes. His preference for loose clothing sometimes makes others think he is heavier than he really is. A golden chain bracelet given by his grandmother is looped around his left wrist, while a black LeBron James baller ID band is worn by his right. He has a habit of squinting his eyes and cracking his neck whenever it starts to feel tight. Aggressive in nature, he enjoys arguments and pointing out the mistakes of other people. He loves playing basketball and computer games in his spare time, and took up boxing to keep fit. Games that involve tactics are his specialty. Every now and then, he pulls out a violin to prove that he has some culture, after all. He revels in sleeping in the wee hours of the night, and wakes up late the next morning when possible. Sleep is a very important aspect of his life. My worst enemy, though talented, has certain difficulties that he must overcome. My worst enemy is a detriment. Only my worst enemy can drag me down and conquer me. My worst enemy is me.
| On A Speech For The Council Of The Gods |
This was my speech for an activity we had during English class. The scenario was that the ancient Greek gods convened to find a replacement for Zeus, and each god would make a speech detailing why he should be Zeus’ replacement. The speeches had to be written and spoken in the same manner as if your chosen god was actually the one writing and talking. It was a combined writing and acting activity. I seem to recall myself winning it.
Hear ye, Olympians of the highest order. I, Ares, am clearly the ideal replacement for Zeus as ruler of the gods. I am the god of war, and life is filled to the brim with it. Even we immortals are constantly at strife. I am god of that which mostly exists in this world. Since the beginning of time, war has always been around. War has always been, and always will be. Why delay in crowning me lord of an existence already controlled by something I control? Don’t even think about saying that war is unnecessary. If there were no wars, what would become of all the heroes and their glorious deeds in battle? What tales would we be left to tell to our grandchildren? Olympians, a life without war would be a void without purpose. Without war, the Greek city-states would never have risen to their glory in the classical period. The Spartans would never have achieved their legendary warrior status without war. Alexander the Great would never have been great had it not been for me. Rome would never have been founded I didn’t father Romulus. And what of our current ruler? Zeus is a weakling and a womanizer with strange animalistic perversions. At times he is unsure on what to do. He takes far too long to make important decisions. I have none of Zeus’s weaknesses. Trust the god of war to quickly make choices on the spot. Know that Ares has only one ultimate goal: Glory through war. Yes, the glory of fighting the good fight, the glory of battle-cries resounding above the clash of steel and flesh and blood, and the glory of returning home, triumphant and victorious, to live to fight another day. Olympians, that is true glory. Make it yours, and accept me as your liege in the stead of an irresponsible and fickle old man. There is more nobility in being a good human than in being a poor god, I can assure you. Every god is responsible for shaping life’s experiences and circumstances to his success. No other god can do for another god what he neglects to do for himself. The ability to make difficult decisions separates the skilled gods from the worthless ones. Once committed to action, gods must press for victory, not for stalemate, and certainly not for compromise. The times Zeus gave up his position and compromised are innumerable. Do you really think Zeus is worthy? By their own actions, and not their words, do leaders establish morale, integrity, and sense of justice of their followers. They cannot say one thing and do another. Zeus has clearly failed in this arena. I am Ares, the god of war, and that is why I, and no other, should take the place of Zeus as ruler of the gods.
I must admit, I wasn’t too serious when I wrote this one. I was pretty angry at my class advisor and my old Filipino teacher at the time. As a side note, that same Filipino teacher was sacked a few days later, although not because of my essay.
The gods and goddesses of ancient Greek mythology employed revenge on those who had slighted or wronged them. Should revenge as a means of obtaining justice be accepted in our society? Why or why not? I think that revenge should be a means of obtaining justice. Sometimes, if you are wronged, the law just doesn’t do anything fast enough. It gets swamped in paperwork, legal documents, and sweet-talking lawyers. Especially sweet-talking lawyers, Baygon should come up with a new kind of spray for them. While all this is going on, the sadist who murdered the entire faculty of your beloved school might be running free, whether by bail or by other means. While having the faculty murdered might not be such a bad thing, let us assume it is not. Let us pretend we actually feel something good for the faculty, and that we are greatly anguished by the fact that all our teachers got wiped out and the government has done nothing substantial to the perpetrator of this vile crime. Wouldn’t you be greatly pissed? Pissed enough to nick Dad’s M4A1 carbine and drill a bunch of hollow point rifle rounds into the noggin of that friggin’ sonuvabitch, I’d bet. In normal circumstances, you’d go to jail and possibly feel the prick of a lethal injection, if you weren’t pardoned year after year to live your putrid, worthless life out on death row. But if things like that were legal, perhaps the world would be a better place. Class advisors and other numbskull teachers would be the first to be wasted. You know that ancient adage, right? An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth? If everyone firmly believed in that saying, dentists would make a killing putting false teeth in bashed-up people, while the eyeglasses industry would go bankrupt with the sudden tidal wave of the blind. The world would certainly be a better place for your children to grow up in, granted that they aren’t riddled with bullets before they reach eighteen for something you did to some poor bloke on the street.
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