It was my lunch break, and I was on the phone with a female friend turned policewoman while the hostage drama was reaching conclusion. She asked me if I'm watching the news, I said no. "Why not?" she asked. I told her it doesnt matter how that started, its going to end in 2 ways only. Either he surrenders, or he gets killed. I've been around armed men enough to know how it was going to end. With dead people."PC yan,hindi pahuhuli ng buhay" she said. Then later, "wala na. patay na xa..."

I said goodbye and went back to the office to take my nap. I didn't want to waste my time to discuss the subject. I wish he surrendered, though. Or at least hurt no one else but himself, especially not the hostages. He got the attention he wanted, didn't he? What's the point of portraying yourself the victim if you're gonna turn other people into your victims? Those people had nothing to do with whatever the hell the point he was trying to make.

If he really wanted to die in a blaze glory, he should have walked out of the bus and started shooting in the air. That would surely make all those armed shoot him full of lead. That's what I am going to do in his place, if i was too stubborn and too stupid to surrender and I really wanted to die. I will not even shoot back at the assault team. Killing any one of them will not make any difference. They're just following orders. Like those hostages, they too have families that they support, people who love them. Like those hostages, killing anyone of them is just nonsense.

Feeling Like A Flower

There was once a flower who grew in a garden owned by a beautiful maiden. The garden was on fertile ground, and had abundant rain and sunlight all year long and the plants there grew healthy and were always in bloom.

One day the beautiful maiden choose to pick the flower and display it in a vase inside her house for her friends and visitors to see. Her friends admired the flower for its beauty and the flower felt happy and proud in its new environment. The flower didnt realize that being uprooted meant death, and soon it withered and dried. No sooner that this happened that the girl threw the dried flower out her window where it lay crushed under the feet of those passing by.

Sometimes I feel like that flower. I used to think life is so much better here in Cebu. I appreciated the higher pay and the many places to see and things to do. I got caught up in the hustle-bustle of it all that I have forgotten my roots. I engaged in vices like gambling that soon I lost so much, including the love of my life.

NOw I wish I could bring back time and do things differently. Sadly, that's impossible. And now I just have to deal with the fact that some things can't be brought back from the dead. Fortunately, unlike that flower cut from its roots, i still have my own two feet and I can still stand up and find my way home. And what a long journey it is going to be.