A D    I N F I N I T U M

                                  By S. M. R. Bercadez

Education is the soul of the human progress, a demand for improvement, a circulation of learning that never ends. Learning is ubiquitous, you can find yourself reading posters at street lawns and walls and you’re learning without even noticing it. In traffic signage’s, you know when and where the right place in crossing roads because you learned it from previous years. Learning exists when you find the reason beyond the coercion of education and learning. 

If I were to write a plan, I will direct the path straightly where the predicaments are present beyond compare. It must be existent, exigent and retroactive because learning and education must always be one supported by a stimulus-- teacher. The succession of students’ learning is hundred and tenfold succession of a teacher, it’s incomparable. As we teach, we must prepare ourselves wholly in all the circumstances that will surely happen for a day, the sour and sweet taste of the dish is like the thrive and failure of a teacher. Of course, we’re not perfect, we have flaws and we are licensed to commit mistakes at times. On the other hand, we are the navigator and mediator in every class we teach, the mixture of all the ingredients needed. We direct paths in most upright ways. The students’ understanding from broad to depth is the measurement of how effective you are in teaching as it becomes your springboard to teach more. Yes, we cannot measure accurately the thoughts of our students, but we can weight them according to standards. The fragrance may not be good at first blow, but we can still prove its existence by tasting it. As time passes, it becomes good in fragrance and in taste because we try to accept incorrectness, the different delectable of the dish is the evidence to prove it. 

Learning is inexorably continuous, it never stops. We learn even when we are at our wildest dreams, we learn even our eyes are staring at the blank walls, still high and ideal thoughts exist. It’s unstoppable. At the end of the day, it’s the learning that encompasses all as chicken does in Adobo. 

WRITE FROM THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS

"WRITE AS LONG AS YOU HAVE THE KNACK FOR IT."    -Sir Alegre

Sir Alegre's class on Creative Writing
‎Wednesday, ‎July ‎13, ‎2016, ‏‎9:32:47 AM

THE AULD BYGONE DAYS

             

Thinking about all the gay apparel of childhood is a living proof of realization that we’re no longer young.

(This has been my  kindergarten 1x1 Identification picture.) 

(Too much happiness was painted on my face, haha!)

I had been started schooling at the age of five as a kindergarten student in Santulan Elementary School. It was all clear on my vivid consciousness the existence of the bygone days and wishing I could play back the ambiance, sounds and feelings of being a child, of course I’m no power to bring those back. Before I went to school, I already knew how to read and write both Filipino and English since my mom taught me when I was still a four-year-old kid. I experienced how to be scolded and hit by her with a hanger every time I failed to read, one way of telling me that I should be infallible and fastidious in doing things and one of those was reading. I didn’t even get a chance to sleep on midday unless I read all the pages in the books. I should read them loud, clear and right, she didn’t want to hear mistakes. So I did. I read even my eyes were nearly closed, even am calling all hears to sleep and be gone for a while. Every day became tumultuous as if reading was a misery and writing was a vice. My mom, I knew her well. I knew she had reached her peak, still she chose to teach me. I knew she had even lost her temper out of too much patience yet she still guided my hands on pencil and paper just to educate me to write. Each day, new words were added to my sagacity and finally got to pronounce it right. Little did I then expect, I knew how to read and write. Thanks to Mom! I’m all hail in reading now.

(She is my friend. Her name is Vanillie.)

I’m not a good kid, a docile yet inexorable maybe. I have flaws and mistakes as child always does, but that is life, full of uncertainties and mischief. We learn even we’re misunderstood and misjudged.   I’m a quite child yet invigorate. I remember my friend when she was no confidence to get along with other kids. I’m always at her side to cheer her up and say things like ‘we’re always be partners no matter what’, until a day came, it was periodical test. My mom reviewed me of the past lessons - numbers, colors, shapes and all. I was too excited to answer when my teacher handed me the paper. I wrote my name at the very top, big and clear; you could almost see it even you’re few yards away from it.

Minutes passed. I was too busy working on my paper when someone stamped on my chair, it vexed me so I looked back, and she was there, my friend, asking me of answers instead of questions. As a friend, I did what I thought was right. I moved my paper on sideways so she could see and copy my answer, not knowing Mrs. Cariaga was on her back watching. She noticed her copying my work and BOOM! Like a dire blow. She was stunned like a rat chasing by an outfox cat. What struck me more was, she even copied my WHOLE NAME! My teacher asked her why she cheated and she didn’t answer, instead she just cried. When the teacher called her mother from the outside, she screeched like a pig. I knew something was up when they went home.

Good thing, we’re still friends ‘till now. J             

And another good thing, I still remember how Mrs. Cariaga always praising me of how good and properly aligned my handwriting was and it pleased me as a child. 

I only had three best friends including my sister. (I don’t think that best friend must always be just one.) We were good friends in time. We were always at each other’s house and can’t be separated. We even took a bath together, barefooted, naked and unashamed, and we’re happy as if we can live this world against all odds. But I don’t think we were still friends now, since we left our old house nine years back though yes… we have been friends on facebook. No chats. No morning conversations like before. No hang outs. All was gone and I missed it. I missed them. But it’s all right. People come and go in our lives and we should accept it even if we can’t. I know I should not be saddened by this fact, it’s always the natural thing, it happens gradually, but if there was one who doesn’t left me and who knew me well, it was my sister. It will always be her.

'We' is always so much better than I. And yes, we will never be good at this. Lol!

I think this is the most sober photo we had together, since we had too much wacky on your phone. 

Okay, I’ll tell you one thing, probably one of my secrets, but since I’ll be pronouncing it, it will no longer be a secret.

My sister is the one whom I trusted most. She is my best friend in life.  If there is one person whom I all hail in honor, it’s her. Well, she doesn’t have any idea about it. Don’t dare to tell her. I know how she would react. I’m imagining her visage now, it makes me laugh. Lol!

I love her, I really do. Love how she influenced me with books, look how I’m too addicted now. Love listening music with her, All Time Low, Fall Out Boy, Panic! At the Disco, all these bands. Love how we spend most of our time going to Book Sale's and how I always buy her book for she's always BROKE. How sad, she's always like that, still I love her with her 'chinita' eyes gazing with books, even I. Spending time with her is priceless. I cannot say more, I'm being drastic. I love her. I love my Mom and Dad, that's all I could say.

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Years had now nearly elapsed and as I looked past back, I still remembered them all. How I embraced my childhood days like a book when you spend and wasted time for it and happy for experiencing all at once - childhood.

FOURTH OF JULY

                       

               

Sourced from Word Porn on Facebook

                She was there. You were there. She waited a sudden moment until you came to pass her. She looked at you straightly with your hands on your pockets, clearly having your way out from those movable barriers with all other students struggling to go out of the scene, but you just walked calmly as you passed those metal barriers and as far as she could remember the whole occurrence, she stayed at your back auditing every bit of information that can be seen from your behind. From the most undulating motions of your hands way down to your walking, your gesticulating arms at your sides, she noticed everything. She had seen the whole thing that was noticeable from her senses. She thought he was marked by being decent in his most viable ways and that was the moment when she realized, she was contented seeing him from the view of his behind.  He was damned perfect as she uttered with a great resemblance of him. She promised from that day on that he will be the one whom she confessed with all reassurances. She never asserted her sight until he was gone over passing the crowded town. She kept on walking. She kept on remembering. The rain started pouring. Everybody was in the focus on how to escape, but she was still thinking of him, remembering those sudden moments where all the distances between them were just an inches away and how she terribly wants to fill those inches with such great console, but still it was just her thoughts; thoughts that were rooted along the river of nothingness. It was all nothing in the nick of time and will only be lived in her memory in due time.

            As the things went pretty well and way back in her consciousness, it was her thoughts that take a trip for a moment. Heavy rains were approaching as she had gotten her umbrella and walked until she reached the last street when she found out that he was there standing at the store patiently waiting for the rain to stop. Her heart kept on beating too loud as if it can be heard by anyone. She was rooted on the ground and wondering if she would approach him or not; offer him some buzz in her umbrella. She counted off each second; each steps with her heart bawling, with her knees knocking that were ready to fall out at any time in the moment. She remembered everything. She recognized the whole bunch of scene as it vastly barged in to her senses. She counted off once more.

5…

4…

3…

2

Finally, she fished out her guts from her depth seas and put up to assert him. Well, she doesn’t feel any disappointment as he allowed her to be in. She thought that was the most irreplaceable, incredibly unexplainable moment of her. He picked up the umbrella and they continued walking with unstoppable rain pouring. They walked with some of the passerby teasing them but they continued to walk.

She looked at him with smiles; he looked at her with a great content of happiness. She has seen it and was happy knowing they both wanted it to be true. They wanted to cross the boundaries, they can and they will. Those days were the worth remembering ones and she wanted to go back then to where it was, not to change those, but to experience it again, to try if he still be her love for once. In due time, they will be.

(Five years had gone fast and with a great degree of ecstatic happiness, she will never forget these sceneries.) 

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“If I were a carpenter, I would build you a window to my soul. But I would leave that window shut and locked, so that every time you tried to look through it all you would see is your own reflection. You would see that my soul is a reflection of you.” 
― Colleen Hoover, Point of Retreat