Legacy Project: The Fifth Second

*The Outreach Reflection (previous article) is a better read, seriously x.x this one is too random, unstructured and aimless, I was rushing this because of a pending errand given to me by mom*


During that time when I got bitten by a dog, I estimate that for the first 4 seconds I was denying the fact that I got bitten. During those four seconds of shock my body was reacting to the situation as if the bite did not connect, so I was basically trying to lunge left and right in the hope of evading something that already hit me. It was only during the Fifth second that I acted upon the situation with me wholeheartedly accepting that I got bitten. I had to man up.

Nothing says you'll be saying goodbye like making a Legacy Project. Making something that you'll gonna be leaving behind. Leaving behind something means you'll be going away. And that thought, for quite some time, overshadowed my excitement to finally be able to work and make money. If i ever get a job


Although I'm not sure as to the certainty of me being able to graduate this March, still the thought came to me, that graduating from college feels different from graduating from high school. Or maybe it's just that I view it as the end of structured learning. I never saw myself as a guy having a PhD at the end of his name. I feel just being able to graduate college is enough. I think.


I have always pictured the other side as my window of opportunity. When I was in elementary, High school seemed to be the promised land. I forced myself to excel in the things I could excel in only to find out that, things I love to excel in stuff that do not merit the support of the school (a kind of support I've always wanted to have) for the reason that It's not helping in the promotion of the university. I like playing the guitar. I love doing covers. I like volleyball. I like cooking desserts. I like facilitating during ORSEM activities... i like to do all those non-academic stuff that has no chance of being put in a tarpaulin outside the gates of the school. I happen to like doing the useless things that won't merit me a medal and be commended during the Monday Assemblies at the university Gym. I like these hobbies that I can always turn to, whenever I feel bad, that this particular person got a shot at this particular opportunity, for the sole reason that he is more handsome than me. The only good opportunity for me during high school was that program organizers back then would seek my help in playing the guitar for certain singers during prom, intramurals etc. But then again, the credits usually go to the one at the center of the stage., the singer. 


The lack of support for the things I love doing made me feel down most of the time. This is apart from the bullying I got, and heartbreaks I received. It made me believe that College is the promise land. My window of opportunity. So come college I decided to take a different approach. I was bargaining with puberty, "Please give me muscles, so that I won't look so wimpy at college, I wouldn't wanna be pitiful in front of the many girls that dumped me in high school". I was mind setting for success. "This time I'm gonna be involved in endeavors that would put my name in tarpaulins!". I was re-evaluating my intentions. "I want every girl who thought I was a nobody to regret ever having thought that!". I was making the plan concrete, "Mom, please buy me a laptop, I'll look cool and intelligent". I was all set in proving to my algebra professor who gave me a 77 mark during my second year in high school that he made a very big mistake. I was very sure that a day would come when I'll be so good in academics that I'd be able to show my chemistry teacher she made a mistake of giving me detention when in fact it was my seatmate who cheated in the exam.


And yet here I am, doing the Legacy Project... which is the mark of the end of college.,, without actually being successful at any of the things I said I wanted to do. The last laugh isn't mine. 


Although I did try my best, at practically everything, someone was always better. The constant chase for the perfect, just made me fall sick. And now, I become frightened whenever I am faced with a situation where I want to give it my hundred percent... since, by experience, giving it my all will make me sick. 


Legacy is a nice word to attribute to the old. And that's how I feel at the moment. Too old to do stuff. I feel as if i need to take a break.


This is exactly what I'm afraid of. Whenever given a task to reflect about something and I feel there isn't enough time. I tend to lose focus on what I want to say. I just scrolled up to check on what I wrote on the first sentence. And the next few lines are my attempt to synthesize everything, my attempt to make sense out of this chaos I just typed.


The Legacy Project made me re-evaluate how I tried to go through the college as a whole because it's one of those things that mark the end of something. I knew I gave my all, but there's a feeling that something's not right. Maybe it's because i never had that experience of finishing strong. I always found myself in the middle part of a list. I never was the one on top, I am the one in front when the honors would be given to the ones at the back. I was an award anti-magnet... and this bugs me, since it's nearing graduation and I expect that most of the tears that are gonna be shed during graduation is coming from the feeling of disappointment rather than a sense of victory. That is, if I graduate.


I guess doing the Legacy Project is being in the Fifth Second, It is a point of no return. I just have to man up and deal with it. But I don't discount the fact that it's a very cool project. It really is! and I'm excited to see it being implemented soon.



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Outreach Activity: Seniors for Seniors

During the tricycle ride towards our host school, Naga City Science High School, I once again experienced that moment when I'd pick my phone out of my pocket to check the time, put it back in my pocket, then pick it out for a second time to check the time again because during the first try I wasn't paying attention.

This usually happens when I'm in the state of over thinking stuff either because I've got a lot of tasks planned out for the day or because some kind of big event is gonna happen and I just wanna check if I'm gonna be late for it or not.

Weeks before the event I felt my share of, somehow, being a beneficiary of some kind of outreach as well. However it wasn't in the form of what we gave the NCSHS students.

SUPPORT /səˈpôrt/
1. (verb) Bear all or part of the weight of; hold up.
2.(noun) A thing that bears the weight of something or keeps it upright

With the way I allocate the time I have for a day - being at rest for the most part in the hope of recovering fully before February, It has become a routine to spend most of the hours away for my laptop as possible. This means that during weekdays, I usually would be at the common hall of our school, just sitting by the comfy corner of the hall populated by IT students due to the presence of electrical socket they need to use their laptops with.

This situation paved the way for me to be engaged in a genuine conversation with a friend, something, that I haven't had the chance or choice to do because for the past years, all I've been busy about was getting through college, and all I'm interacting with is my laptop, its battery issues, and the rust forming in the metal parts of its keyboard.

I can never deny that what sparks up conversations between guys are the ladies and any topic lady related. Commonly what happens is it starts with a joke as triggered by say a college girl that passes by, "Man, Check out those curves!!". The conversation dwells on that for a minute or two. We laugh and let the humor consume us. Then somebody would always deliver a reflective remark of some sort, "Those curves aren't gonna make me dinner". Then the dialogue becomes deep and guys reveal a different persona. Oftentimes when I witness this happen, either to myself or to the one I'm talking to, I feel unbound and humbled at the same time. It's quite amazing.

The conversation centered on getting support from the right people; and by 'right' we meant, from the people we want it to come from. With both of us being sentimentally faithful when it comes to relationships in general, It's wasn't difficult to agree on how wise it is to be exclusive as to the choosing of people we wanted to matter in our lives. That being agreed upon, it comes as a natural phenomenon for both of us, to expect some kind of support/thoughtful act/care from the people we chose to be part of our exclusive circle. However, getting support/thoughtful acts/care from the people we wanted it to come from does not always happen, and the possibility of it happening cannot be controlled. Worse is the reality that explicitly telling someone how he/she must care for you, in a way, diminishes the genuineness of the act especially when it is already during a time when you're in a hell hole. But then again, being two dudes who aren't served the dinner we most likely expected, we do what every single guy does as speculated in the unwritten code of conduct for the gentlemen, and that is to grow some balls and smile saying, "I got this". Of course with a guiding principle being a line taken from the internet - 'I thank everyone who didn't help me at that time. Because of you i learned to do it myself'.

The silence that took over after we reached the peak of our dialogue became a time for me to re-evaluate who among the persons I come in contact with, treasure the support when it comes from me. During that day I marinated in that thought. Part of me was saying I shouldn't rob them of the opportunity to grow, but I came to that conclusion wrongly since I mis-defined "giving support" from "facing their problems for them". Facing their problems for them is not a good idea. Both the person giving the help and the person being helped lose. Giving support however, does this amazing thing of invigorating the one being given support and making the giver of the support feel some kind of fulfillment because of what they just did. Both ends win, and that's amazing.

The conversation I just had with this friend;It was in a way a form of support. Though it surprised me that it came from somebody who I didn't know could provide me with such. He did not face the problem for me. He just signaled that his presence was there and that he takes part in my experiences too.

I'm in this tricycle ride towards the host school, together with my team mates; Humming the tune of Cristina Grimmie's rendition of, 'O, Holy Night'. It was then that I realized even though I may not be in the repertoire of people who these high school seniors want the support to come from, I still could give the effort of making my support matter. That is what I think would make the outreach activity special.

And I'm thankful that each member of the team I'm in is doing the same. I loved how there came a point sometime during the afternoon sessions when I observed that the feel of the whole program shifted from, "We are doing this because it's a requirement" to "I'm loving this, and we want to be here". It's not anymore visitors talking to kids who will graduate. It's about college seniors giving support to high school seniors; It's about people who wanna share in each others experiences; It's about giving them metaphorical hugs saying, "don't worry, you got this"; It's about us, giving a part of our present selves to our younger versions.

It's funny and awesome that when you give support, you gain some.

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acoustics and acquaintances

acoustify ALL the rock songs!!! *insert 'all the things' meme here*

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Omoide Kakera 想イ出カケラ (Fragments of Memories) acoustic cover
composer: DevilishP (ダルビッシュP)

english lyrics: nano

acoustic arrange: neithan
vocals: neithan

intro:  G# - A# - Gm - Cm

verse 1:

Cm                  Cm
irodoru keshiki azayaka ni
G#                       G#
machi wo se ni shite aruita
Cm                    Cm
tsunaida hazu no kimi no te wa
G#                     A#
ima wa boku no tesuri nuke

refrain 1:

G#                       G#
fureau tabi ni kokoro hibiita
Cm                                  Cm
dakishimeta nukumori wo
G#                             G#
kasuka ni nokoru kimi no kaori wa
A#                   Cm
sora no aosa ni toketa

chorus 1:

           G#                     A#
kasaneta koe wo egaku wa yume no naka
Gm                    Cm
omoi wa kaze ni ubawarete
            G#                A#
namida wo fuite egao no mama de
        Gm          Cm             G# -  A#
zutto zutto kimi wo matteru

verse 2: (same)
shizuka ni utsuriyuku toki ni
bokura senaka wo awaseta
miageta sora no hoshi-tachi wa
futari yasashiku tsutsunde

refrain 2: (same)
kazoekirenai omoide kakera
mayoikonda ano hi wa
kioku ni nemuru asenai sugata
yozora no hate ni kieta

chorus 2: (same)
afureru omoi hakanaku maiagaru
kanashiku someru kono sora wo
sore demo boku wa mune ni tojikometa negai
zutto kimi ni aitai yo

interlude: Cm - A#6 - G# - D# - Fm - Cm - G# - A# - Cm - A#6 - G# - D# - Fm - Cm - G# - Cm - Cm

chorus 3: (same)

hana wa sakihokori kisetsu wa meguru kedo
ima demo boku wa yume no naka
namida wo fuite egao no mama de
zutto zutto kimi wo matteru
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Of all the covers I did, this sure is the one I consider very untimely done. Midterms are scheduled next week and academic concerns need to be dealt with if I wanna be able to graduate come this March. However, I feel that this (the cover) is something that I must do before focusing everything on academics once again.

I recently stumbled upon the "One does not simply" meme (see 3 second video clip below).

This has been constantly used in different contexts to provide a certain type of humor -> http://knowyourmeme.com/memes/one-does-not-simply-walk-into-mordor


Sometimes, you just feel that a particular person you meet is a bro (How I Met Your Mother reference). I spent a good two weeks' time trying to be close friends with a girl who I wanna be bestfriends with, or bros with for that matter, to the point that it already got awkward.

There was one time that she got sick, and I was all up her facebook wall trying to check on her if she's doing better or if her illness was getting worse. I remember a day when I forced myself to be early for my afternoon class so as to buy time to hang out with her; And by hang out i mean, be in a conversation with. There was this other time when she and her friends were busy doing projects at the school's common hall, They looked as if they didn't sleep for days and were all weary and tired so I decided to buy them some snacks, hoping that it would win them over. You could just imagine how awkward it was. As I placed the cookies on the table, I was waiting for a smile to happen... but it never came. No hint of being unburdened was reflected on her face. and her friends... well, they did what good friends do... make me feel like a clown. But they said thank you nonetheless. They are very polite and kind people.



After that I stopped trying. For I finally accepted that 'I cannot simply walk into mordor'. It sucks when you get very sick to the point that you fear death/non-recovery very much you try to do everything you really want and everything you still can do. I forgot that my context of what life is, as molded by the chain of events that recently happened to me, is far different from hers.

It would make no sense if I tell her I wanna hang out with you and your buddies. It would sound awkward if I say to her I want you to send me a text message when you feel bored. It would come across as a joke if I tell her let's grab lunch together, you can join me and my batchmates or let me join you and your buddies; Accompany me to the store to buy stuff; Tell me about your day; How'd you do in the quiz?; What do you plan to do over the weekend?

no sense at all - coz I assume that for her and her buddies, It's just my way of flirting around and being the clown that I am. It's sad coz, even if I explain, they can never understand that part of me shouting, "I wanna be friends with you, NOW, while I still can... while I'm still able... I think I deserve a friend like you... good-looking, decent, kind, intelligent, cultured, dresses well.... this list could go on... let's play DOTA, or 'hello kitty world' i don't care... it's still a game.,,. I'll be a bro, I'll wingman you to get a date... You can wingman me to get a dance at the senior's party... I can.... "

*takes off glasses* *drinks a glass of water* *goes back to the keyboard*

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Bros 4 Life Myk!!! It sucks that you had to go to manila to continue your studies.... guess what?, I found a wingman here in Naga, but she's a she... but girls sometimes make better wingmen right? Friendship can never be rushed; Great things never come that easy. But why can't it? I mean people spin a wheel and win a million dollars. Couldn't she be that one great find? The bro that could be there when you're not around since we're both busy being awesome in our respective fields?

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I can't simply walk into Mordor

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On-The-Job Training: Keeping Hold of the Sword

 Everything was set; Like playing chess with my pieces placed in a way that any move can instantly force the enemy into a check.

MAGNIMOPUS - noun(n.) ;/magˈnəmopəs/

any endeavor labelled to be the best that one has done in his career/life.

Identify a company that will require the least amount of work to merit me that illusive certificate stating that I indeed worked for them for the required 486 hours of on the job training. Limit the units to take to a minimum in order to focus on the Senior Project and the OJT. Finish the Senior Project before November so that come December, Christmas would be celebrated worry free. 2012 would be welcomed with the Senior Project done, with the OJT certificate at hand, and with my hierarchy of worries only composed of finishing the remaining units and practicing my smile for the university yearbook, with the latter, in all honesty, having more significance. March, I picture, is a month when my batch mates would teasingly append to my name (or deliberately substitute for it) the term 'cum laude', as I deem it a title that I still could achieve by the end of the school year.

It was because of an invitation made by the department's Dean, that I was able to find myself working for a faculty of the Digital Arts and Animations department as a programmer for a specific project that he's so willing to pursue. I did not personally witness the Dean's invite, as I was away at that time when he saw my batch-mates at school and talked to them. I got the news as soon as I arrived at campus that day, it was where our conversations revolved around for i guess a week or so. Essentially they relayed that the DIA faculty needed people to work with him, and that he asked help from the dean to suggest students that he thinks would be able to deliver output and still cope with academics. I was asking them over and over again, "...and I was included in those list of names that the dean suggested?", they said yes but I still can't logically deduce why I was in it. To be blunt about judging my self, I am not the sharpest knife in the drawer. In academic projects I could exert every effort that I can yet still produce an output that would fair below those of the elite few. It was explained after a few days though that the students who were the Dean's first pick, were already occupied with doing their Senior Projects at that time, so he decided to suggest someone from us, the juniors; the ones next in line. It's not everyday that you get a casual invite from someone who is as respected as the Dean, so though I was a bit hesitant about saying yes to the invitation, mainly due to my doubt regarding the skills i presently have, i said yes anyway for the sole reason that someone believed that I was fit for the calling. After a few months, it was formalized that helping in the project credits as our on the job training.

LIFESTYLE - noun(n.) ; /ˈlīfˌstīl/

The way in which a person or group lives: "the benefits of a healthy lifestyle".

The only route I know to get to the work place is to ride a jeepney and stop in front of a luxurious hotel. From there I can remember and walk towards where the office is (this means five more minutes of walking). At around five in the afternoon we all would walk to the place where the jeepney dropped me off, and would rent a tricycle to the town plaza. On normal days when we go home, we don't always get a ride immediately, giving us time to chat with each other as we are waiting on the other side of the street facing the hotel. During moments when conversations would go dead while waiting for a ride, it wasn't awkward, for it's almost an automatic response to just stare at Hotel and be consumed in its majesty. With the amount of work we've put in everyday, I don't find it silly that whenever I come home, I am cloaked with this amazing aura of gratitude for my parents. Yes, our house is not hotel quality; none of those fancy lighting, or those scented oils that spread across the hallway, but in this house of ours is a room where the necessities are provided. I can sleep well at night, I can use the room to exercise, etc. It's impact to my reflection came in when I realized they could've chosen to neglect me of my needs. It could've been easier for them to just let me be or It could have been a better choice to not have children and just spend the money for themselves. It may have been more practical to send me to another school that will demand a lower cost of education. They could've sent me to work immediately after high-school, for that would mean immediate gain. But despite of these things they've decided to work prioritizing the aim for my siblings and I to graduate in a very expensive school. As I am writing down this sentence I actually am looking around my room, in awe at the chain of causes and effects that happened somehow provided me with a humble place to work, a place to live in, a place to do justice to the amazing opportunity given. It's not of hotel quality, but it's still the best room.

Hence, began the days when I would randomly talk to myself in thought, still in awe at the feat that my parents have accomplished. They did it. It laid some kind of affirmation to the philosophy that I was applying to myself at that time. That things can be done with personal effort. Especially now that this generation is blessed to have google and wikipedia. My bias is that their generation is in a way better than ours in aspects such as exerting effort to finish a study. They didn't even have the piracy phenomenon 'copy-paste' at that time, and even if they had one, I imagine the task to be quite exhaustive still with all the borrowing of books and articles and all the pen work needed to be done just to plagiarize ideas in print.

GAP - noun(n.) ; /gap/

A break or hole in an object or between two objects: "he came through the gap in the hedge".

This difference with how my parent's generation and the generation I'm in experience things such as the one I've mentioned drove me to realize that affirmations are critical. 

During the time when we were developing the application, whenever a milestone is accomplished, I would always show it to my mother. Even if it's a slight improvement in the design, or a subtle change in how it works I would spend the whole time in the dinner table talking to her about how the changes came to be, the deliberation that happened before implementing the changes, the torture I had to go through during when the codes did not work. She was my number one fan. But sad to say that, because of the gap, there is this feeling that despite how I tried to explain it, she does not fully understand how it feels like.

How it depresses me when I can't understand a stanza of code after eight hours of sitting and looking at how it works. How it frustrates me that I can't find any error in my code yet it fails to compile. How it's so annoying to learn things the hard way and then some genius posts something in the internet that's easier to use than what you've been using.

Affirmations are critical. And my thought is that affirmations become effective, if the one being given it knows that the giver understands him fully, and by that i mean, the giver should have some experience of the issue that's pressing the depressed down. Hence, teachers/mentors are important.

"I can't find the right class from which an XML parser can be retrieved" <- My thoughts are that, saying this to my mom, would feel very different than saying this to a department professor/batch-mate, even if I have the same motive of just finding someone to hear out my day's rants.

CONDITIONING present participle of condition ; /kənˈdiSHəning/

Maintaining the state of something, esp. with regard to its appearance, quality, or working order.


F8 is a key that I've been accustomed to hitting during the OJT phase as it's the one to be pressed when you would want the program to compile. Being a programmer embeds in my philosophy this constant need to immediately correct any mistake in the code whenever it would return errors upon compilation. This has been rampantly happening that I took it as a law regarding how things work. You kick a ball, it flies. You water the plants, they grow. You do something, something happens. You fix the code, it works. - - - Everything is immediate, an action will result will result into something... in an instant.

For some reason I fell sick during the time when the development of the version one of the application was finished. It was something I never experienced before. I felt so weak that I couldn't even get out of bed, My head hurt everyday, parts of my body felt numb and i feel discomfort in my left ear and eye.

I got a checkup and corresponding regimen was given to me. The cycle of checkups administered by this first doctor continued until such time that I decided to get a second opinion for I noticed that no improvement was materializing. I was in panic, for unlike my experience with coding, where I identify where the error is-fix it-then recompile it to see that it's working now, the doctor identified where the problem was, gave me medicine to fix the problem but nothing was happening. F8 got pressed but errors were still being returned. 

In this time of instants, it's both sad and frightening, that to a generation of people exposed to multimedia, the basis of one's credibility is his ability to provide immediate output in whatever form possible. Personal trainers who promise six pack abs in 30 days often get the calls. Freelancer sites have this system where a random persons asks for a favor, and the reply to his favor is a text in the format, "amount of time needed to complete the project - amount of money demanded".

("nadja: hi, I'm new to this site, can someone please make me a roman numeral converter program? need it for class")

("marco27: That's easy... 3 days $20")

("foxTamer2: I can do it in 2 days $25")

("gizMo_99: in 5 hours for $40")

The reality is that, in such a fast moving world like what we have now, people in the generation I belong to have been conditioned to believe in what's instant. People, gadgets, and anything really, seem to lose their worth if there exists something that's faster, stronger, shinier, bigger than what one already has. It has become frightening to respect your own pace, for the world tells you that the trend is that if you stop, you get left behind.


People in the field inclined to computers (especially students) should really be reminded that there are some things that can't be rushed. That it's ok to fall and get left behind. That everyone has their own special pace that is just beautiful to follow. Not that I want to stop them from excelling. But I guess to remind them, that when they feel that they are moving too slow, It's not really the world that's moving fast, it's them, because it's only when you try to move as fast as you can that you are able to honestly compare yourself with how everything else is moving, and it is in that moment that you can label yourself slow, with respect to whatever it is that you decide to be your point of reference.

BREAKING POINT - noun(n.) ; /brāking point/

The moment of greatest strain at which someone or something gives way.

It was only during the OJT experience that I got the opportunity to look at things, and life in general, from a realistic perspective.

Things always stack up. The more gradual process is the more unnoticeable it gets. It was true for me and my health. I don't mean to say that the OJT got me sick, I mean to say that on-the-job training is a very effective avenue for students to begin paying attention to the once neglected questions such as. Who will I be 10 years from now? How do I see myself in the greater scheme of things? Is my existence worthwhile Am I really living to be best of my abilities?

Then it gets more specific, can I handle living alone? I know i want to be independent, but I don't wanna be alone...do I? Will I be able to live without the aid of my parents? Will my brothers, who for even once did not give me a hug, sustain me when the time comes that i have nothing? Will the family ever be fixed? Will my health allow me to live up to my dreams? Will I be able to buy myself a room to live in? Can I handle saying goodbye to things when the time is up? Where do I go from here? Who will be with me as I journey through? Will the universe conspire to let me accomplish things that I will for myself? Am I looking for love in the wrong places?

The cherry on top is that, I need to repress all of these questions because answering them right now would be very very detrimental to finishing my senior project. And maybe, this mix of repressed questions plus the fast paced world was what caused me to break down without me noticing it. The uncertainty that the future holds terrifies me. I was accustomed to program stuff. I know what happens if I add this piece of code. I know what happens if I delete this part. And I take comfort in that; But reality finally caught up with me, grabbed me by the collar, and told me that no matter how much I plan things,  I am incapable of knowing what will happen next, even if I become the sharpest knife in the drawer I chose to be in.

2ND WIND - noun(n.) ; /ˈsekənd wind/

1. A person's ability to breathe freely during exercise, after having been out of breath.
2. A new strength or energy to continue something that is an effort.

We do not have a cable connection at home. This is why when we went to manila to visit my brother, all I did was watch TV. It has more than two channels. For me that's already something to celebrate. I find it timely that I was able to watch Larry King Live during the time when he held the "Dinner With The Kings" episode which featured him with the most outstanding names in Hollywood industry such as Tyra Banks, Seth MacFarlane, Russell Brand, Jack Dorsey (the inventor of twitter) and Conan O'Brien.

What got stuck in my head was what Conan shared when He was asked 'what is the thing you most hate?'. To which he answered, I hate how people have this feeling that they are entitled to something, that the world owes them something. They further extrapolated that this could explain why there are protests against the government, people have been having this false sense of entitlement that they deserve more that what they are getting and this convinces them to rise up against the government.


This isn't right at all, It's like the agent system in Hollywood where agents tell their clients, "Don't accept the role, you're worth more than that" - - - "rise up against the government, because you're not getting enough". There is no such thing as entitlement. No absolute assurance that if you do this, this stuff happens. No firm law that rewards those who remain good and punishes those who are bad. No contract that falls out of the sky saying that if you help in the development of an application that provides typhoon updates to Filipinos and the world, you're gonna be given good health. Nothing else could really be done than to do your thing and hold on for dear life.

The chess pieces didn't quite did what I expected they would. My SP is not yet done, Christmas wasn't celebrated worry-free, and 2012 wasn't welcomed with me practicing my smile for the yearbook., But the important thing I guess, is to dust my shoulders of and keep on moving...

I was playing the game "god of war 2", I was at that part of the storyline where Zeus killed every spartan who was under the leadership of Kratos, the main character. Kratos walked along the dead bodies of the spartan army when he saw someone moving, trying to get up... It was a soldier who somehow survived the devastating lightning strike... The soldier was in deranged, "What do we do now Kratos?, everything's gone"... Kratos did not say a word, he just unsheathed one of the swords from a scabbard of a nearby dead spartan the threw it towards the demoralized survivor... the soldier got hold of the sword and eyed Kratos as if waiting for some kind of order. "You can still hold a sword spartan... you can still hold a sword", Kratos said.

Not that I rely on a game's storyline to keep my hopes up. It's just that, like that disillusioned spartan, I believe I can still hold a sword as well. So that's what I plan to do. It saddens me that the last sentences do not sound like, "But I'm completely better now, cheers!"... I would love that to be the ending, but It's just not what's happening. This reflection ends with the choice to fight in order to have a seat reserved for me come March during the graduation rites.

My chess pieces do not have to force a check immediately, I'll just keep on moving them until they do.

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