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No true evil comes to being overnight, it is born out of one bad decision after another.

Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions; they become habit. Watch your habits; they become character. Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.

– Mahatma Gandhi

And a day will come when you will wake up far from the innocence of youth;
when light no longer shines from your eyes;
and goodness no longer flows from your heart.

That day, when it comes my friend, you will be truly evil and salvation becomes a long forgotten dream. So watch your thoughts, that is where the fight against evil is fought.

Eulogy: Gino Zambrano


In life there is nothing more final than death. Death brings pain that transcends the physical; it brings anguish that crushes the spirit through our suffering hearts that grieves for the departed.

Death brought by violence – brought by the lurid, demented, maliciously hateful mind spawned by evil – causes not only suffering of the heart but also a hunger for justice to be served, even to the point of committing ruthless retribution. It is painful to have someone that we hold so dear die so badly.

Such is the pain and the hunger kindled by the death of Gino Zambrano for those who knew and loved him. Such is our loss. Such is our pain. Such is our thirst to avenge his death.

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He was still in the prime of his youth, only 26; so young and taken from us so early, gunned down so senselessly. A rising politician. A lawyer to be. So much promise, but alas, that promise could no longer be realized. He was taken from us, but our memories of him will always remain and will nourish us in our times of loneliness, in our times of despair.


Gino was a gentle soul.

A kind soul.

A loving soul.

He was a peaceful man, always wanting to end a conflict harmoniously, amicably. We had served together in an election campaign once, he kept his cool when everyone else, including me, were already spouting expletives and clinching our fists ready to introduce it to someone else’s face.

Gino was a great guy to be with, always smiling, always kind. He always had this huge toothy grin and an infectious excitement for the joys of life. That is the picture that always comes to my mind – a happy Gino.

He was not a perfect man, to be sure, he had his own set of faults that all humanity is bound with from our first breath, but he came very close to be one.


I do not presume to know what Gino would have liked us to feel, or to be, or to do; only the Lord and Gino really knows that now. But knowing Gino, he would not have liked it for us to feel bad for him; he would not have liked it for us to do bad for him. He was a good guy. A great guy! It would not be an apt way to honor his memory by doing something he did not stood for.

He stood for justice.

He stood for goodness.

He stood for love.

Let us honor him by seeking justice out of our love for him; not vengeance out of our anger for his untimely death.

Let us honor him by doing good, by being good; not by repaying an evil deed by an evil deed.

Let us honor him by loving and continuing to love.

Let us honor Gino by being the man that he was and by striving to be the man he could have been.

Let us honor Gino by living a life of value for others and for ourselves, just like he had lived a life that gave value to ours.

Two Roses

To those that grieved his passing:

Do not pity the dead. Pity the living, and, above all those who live without love and who had failed to live a life worth living.

Gino certainly lived with love and we loved him back in turn. Gino certainly lived a life worth living and we can only aspire to live as he had lived.

May God grant him peace.


A Love Letter in Desperation


Dear Little Sunshine,

A writer wrote a long time ago that “All the love that history knows, is said to be in every rose. Yet all that could be found in two, is less than what I feel for you.” I have read that poem years ago, and yet I did not appreciate it, until you came along. 

How shall I say this, ahmm, I’m not used to loving someone as deeply, as madly, as eternally as I love you. And I’m not used to not having control in the relationship I’m in, “I’m the boss!” as I always say, but well, sometimes fate does make fun of us sometimes in such cruel ways. 

I just found myself loving you to the point beyond control, beyond what sanity dictates; I’m no longer the boss, that is for sure.

At first, I tried to fight it, I tried to resist. I told myself so many times to just go away, to just leave, that the pain is not worth it. I guess my heart overruled my brain in some way, for the steps I took to be away from you just led me nearer, closer; and my love hotter, fiercer, stronger. Funny how love works, I’m not used to losing control. But here I am, a slave to my love for you. 

But, if this be slavery, then let me be a slave forever. If being a freeman means that I would lose you, then let me be bound in ball and chains just as long as we could be together. 

You are not the kindest of mistresses, I tell you. You always find a way to get past my defenses, and BAAMMMM, you always end up hurting me. I never cried over a girl for such a long time, and it’s a strange feeling to experience it again. It’s like walking in on a rain with your best clothes on, annoyance creeps in, then anger, then sadness, and suddenly and inexplicably, feeling refreshed  and happy afterwards. That’s how I feel. So, come rain or rough weather in our relationship, I always find myself walking the way that will lead me to you.

I am happy, truly happy, for once in a long while. And for that I am thankful to you, my love, my little sunshine.

I love you, much more than what love two roses can hold in an eternity.



Two Roses

Eulogy: Jimnah Torrepalma

There are things in life that we must accept. Death is one of those.

The moment we start to live, we also start to die. Death goes hand in hand with living. Death is ever constant and ever present. Unchangeable. Unbendable. Immutable. It will happen to us in due course, whether it be now or tomorrow or the next. Even the stars, in their vastness and brilliance and majesty, will ultimately die.  We must accept death because it is a fact of life, just like we must accept that a rock is a rock and not a tree; because it is what it is, no matter how we believe or wish for it to be otherwise.


However, there are times when the death of someone makes it so much harder to accept than most. That someone whose radiant presence in our lives gives so much more vividness to our existence and their sudden absence from it casts us into utter darkness. That someone whose presence in our lives raised us to the very heights of being and their sudden absence left us desperately falling into complete sorrowful oblivion.

Jimnah Torrepalma was that kind of someone for so many whose lives he had touched and who he had shared his life with. He was a joyful soul with such a zest for life that his sudden death left us reeling in disbelief. He was so full of life and vibrance that the news of his death is still unbelievable to my ears. I remember him most as that boy who was constantly smiling mischievously and always had a ready grin for his friends.

I still remember chatting with him on Facebook when he just graduated from the Philippine Military Academy, I was so proud of him then and more so now. I am proud of him because he died doing what he loved; only a few could claim that and I can only aspire to go the way he did, God willing. Though, we grieve his early death – he could have been so much more, and he could have been with us a lot longer – I guess, it would be selfish for us to think that way. Maybe this is God’s way of honoring such a good man, after all, those who die young sins less; and as I know Jimnah, he sinned least of all.


In the end, we must accept. We must be at peace with his death, no matter how hard or painful it may be. We must strive to rise from our sorrow and banish the darkness of our despair.

To those that grieved his passing “Do not pity the dead. Pity the living, and, above all those who live without love.” The very truth that we are grieving his death is the greatest thing anyone could ever say, for it means that he has truly lived a life worth living for he has loved and we loved him back in turn.


May God grant him peace.


photo courtesy of:

                   Outside the University where I am studying, there are dozens of kids wearing tattered clothes with dirty faces, running and playing with their bare feet. Giving a weathered smile and blank stares to passersby while asking for some alms; some huddling in the street corners on cartons that they use as their mats. Hollow eyes, bereft of hope and love, that somehow, due to their constant fixture in our lives, we hardly give a care anymore. Passing them by each day, seldom giving them a glance, and afraid, even angry that they would come near us with their extended hands and strained mumblings for some charity.

                   This scene is not unique; there are hundreds and thousands of them populating the streets and alleyways in every city and municipality in our country. And I guess, them being a common sight made us unaffected by their misery and loneliness…

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The Anatomy of Suicide: SEX and Perception (PART 1)

There are times in a man’s life when the cord that pins us to this plane of reality is stretched too taut and starts to fray. If the strain on the cord becomes too much, it will snap. At this point even sensible men will be pushed to the point that suicide will seem to be a very sweet and tantalizing option. To them, it is not an end to life but a release from the torments of the world, not the closing of the gates but as an opening of the doors to endless peace.

Suicide is a depressing reality. When life becomes too much to bear and when staying becomes an agonizing torture.

 The realization of defeat. 

The perpetual thirst for release.

The act of surrender. 

What causes a man to get a rope and hang himself by the neck like a fat piñata?
Or a woman to buy rat poison and drink it with her morning coffee?
Or, that of a boy of fourteen, to get his father’s razor and use it to cut and flay his wrists till they resemble a peeled banana?

Sometimes, the reality that we are living is less full of sunshine and more of gloomy rain, less full of happy smiles and more of anguished cries. A man can only take so much before the tantalizing pull to escape becomes overwhelming enough.

Suicide, is, in a way, an escape for those who perceive life more of a prison sentence rather than that of a wonderful journey to be enjoyed.

It can also be a form of sacrifice, for those who think that by ending their lives they are giving those who they have left behind a better chance to life through their deaths.

Or it may be a way of atonement for those who think that their sins could only be washed away by their deaths.

There are as many reasons to commit suicide as there are those who committed it, each one having their own personal motivation as to why they have done it.

But, it seems, despite all these occurrences that we may use as an example for us to learn from, we still fall to the same routines and the same pitfalls that will lead to that tight corner when suicide becomes more of a tantalizing option than a vague idea.


So, what does science say for man’s eternal predisposition to whack ourselves in the head at the slightest signs of dark clouds in the horizon?

One of the leading theories about suicide (put forth by Denys de Catanzaro,PhD.)  points that suicide is an adaptive behavioral strategy. In simple speak, the theory suggests that our brains are designed by natural selection to make hara-kiri (or if you are not into Japanese, blowing your head open like a fat melon with a fucking shotgun!) more enticing whenever we feel down in the dumps so as to give the rest of the gene pool a better chance of surviving the perceived crisis.

To concretize de Catanzaro’s theory, he made a  “mathematical model of self-preservation and self-destruction” 

(honestly, i don’t even understand half this shit, but anyway, it’s SCIENCE!!!)

Ψi = ρi + Σbkρkrk

Where Ψi = the optimal degree of self-preservation expressed by individual (the residual capacity to promote inclusive fitness);
ρ= the remaining reproductive potential of i;
ρk = the remaining reproductive potential of each kinship member k;
b= a coefficient of benefit (positive values of b k ) or cost (negative values of b k ) to the reproduction of each k provided by the continued existence of (-1 ≤ b ≤ 1);
r= the coefficient of genetic relatedness of each k to i (sibling, parent, child = .5; grandparent, grandchild, nephew or niece, aunt or uncle = .25; first cousin = .125; etc.).

Translated in simple speak:

People who have less chances to get laid and have children, and at the same time feel that they are a burden to their family in a way that reduces their family members’ chances to get ahead in life, plus get laid and have children themselves, are more prone to commit suicide.

Based on this study, we can say, that people commit suicide not just because of their perceived inferiority or feelings of worthlessness. The study suggests that there is a direct correlation (you could use “connection” instead of correlation, i am just using correlation coz it makes me sound smarter. duh!) between suicide and sexual reproduction (mind you, this is not just sex but the act of sex so as to make babies). Suicide, apparently, is designed to cull from the herd those that could endanger the reproductive well being of others and have nothing to give, in terms of more progeny and in helping raise those progeny, to the herd.

The twist is, we ourselves are the one’s who decide if we are of value to the herd or not. Thus, suicide, as the study suggests, is an act of free will.

Put it this way, a man who got dumped by his “true” love (with all the other factors being present) would be more prone to commit suicide than, say, a man who got dumped by a woman that his penis got a crush on. This is because, in the first case, the man had consciously limited (so he think! tsk, stupid guy.) who his partner will be in creating babies to his “true” love, thus, when their relationship ended, his subconscious mind took it as an end to his chances at procreation. In the second case, the man has no intention what so ever to have babies with the woman, making the dumping less aggravating, suicide-wise, to that of the first case.

A woman who was raped while still a virgin, and has conservative values and lives in a very conservative community, is more prone to commit suicide than that of, say, a prostitute. In the first case, the woman’s subconscious is telling her that her prospects of finding a good boy who will marry her and have kids is destroyed due to her destroyed innocence, coupled with her feelings of being dirty and unworthy that usually comes along in this instances.

A family man who just lost his job and has family troubles is also prone to suicide because of his perceived feelings of being a burden to his family and that he thinks his children will not get ahead in their lives because of the burden he is causing.

By this time we have to ask whether there is a difference between the mind of a suicidal person than that of a non-suicidal person? Or are there some sort of stages or process behind the mechanics of a suicidal mind?  What triggers a normal mind to go nose dive into the realms of self destruction and personal loathing? That would be discussed in the next article..


Now, here is a lonely photo. . just to make you more depressed.. we don’t want you happy, now, do we? (evil laugh)
NB: most of the facts that i used in this article came from the article of Dr. Jesse Bering in the Scientific Americana website, “Being Suicidal: What it feels like to want to kill yourself“.