Thursday, March 21

Photo of the Week

One Last Time

One Last Time

Photo of the Week
IN AN old rusty house laid an old man. His eyes could barely see the sunlight streaming down his dusty bedroom and his fingers could barely write a single curve. The man knew his time was near, yet his heart remained dissatisfied. It had been several years since he last saw his angel. She was the reason why he would work for hours in harsh conditions. His only companions were his trusty bicycle and the image of his daughter’s smile. The pain and suffering did not matter as long as he came home to the warmth of his child’s presence. She was his ultimate priority, until the day his former lover decided to take the child away—but that did not stop him. He secretly wrote her letters every year. Even though he never received one back, he wrote to her until the day his hands shook to e
Towards Greater Heights

Towards Greater Heights

Photo of the Week
YOU despise what this year has brought upon you. The burden of it has caused you to doubt everyone around you. You have chosen not to trust anyone as you were betrayed by someone you used to feel comfortable with. Sometimes, you enjoy the company of your friends, but you still prefer to remain secluded for a while as this year comes to its conclusion. It is time for you to forget the faults you have committed, to forgive the ones who have crossed your boundaries, to let go of those who do not value your worth, to leave everything behind and to take a step towards greater heights. Everything will fall into place, and you will heal in time. This year has proven that regardless of all the heartaches and betrayals you have been through, the triumphs you have garnered, and the defe...
One hundred-peso bill

One hundred-peso bill

Photo of the Week
ALONG the streets of Divisoria lie a mother and a son curled together against the cold morning breeze. Before the sun begins to rise, the little boy squirms out of his mother’s embrace to start his morning rounds. After kissing his mother goodbye, he grabs the materials he needs for selling. The mother looks at his retreating figure, oblivious to why the boy has been working hard ever since December began. Walking around the streets, he offers passersby pieces of his “kwek-kwek” or a parcel of his cheese sticks. By five in the afternoon, he is only able to earn twenty pesos. A twinge of discouragement courses through him as he realizes that his total savings are not enough. Imagining the smile he would put on his mother’s face as he hands her a Christmas present, he finds the mot
Picturesque

Picturesque

Photo of the Week
I LOOK down from my vantage point. Amid the dimmed lights, there is only darkness, which pales in comparison to the city skyline dotted with specks of yellow and white. From a distance, I hear the faint tune of a Christmas song. Beside me, my camera lies at rest. Silence dwells for a moment, but not for long. I listen carefully as the song reaches its bridge. It is then that I begin grasping for my camera. My hands quake in anticipation as I hold it at the perfect angle. In an elaborate sequence that occurs within a matter of seconds, lights begin to flare from all over, engulfing the whole campus in a pleasing glow. My finger itches for a snapshot, but I know that there is more to come, that the grand spectacle has not yet arrived. The fireworks follow soon. They whizz ...
The Warmth of Christmas

The Warmth of Christmas

Photo of the Week
The chilly December wind made him frown. It reminded him of the old days when he still associated the month of December with warmth; the kind of warmth that made him recall what home was like: far from the honking cars, the blinding city lights, and the bustling of busy people. Home reminded him of tall grass, old trees, sleeping carabaos, and the colorful ornaments that surrounded the peaceful provincial streets. What used to make December truly exciting was when a man would knock on the front door as his mother prepared snacks while he tried to do his homework. Upon hearing the knock, he would instantly run out of his room wearing his biggest smile as he eagerly unlocked the door. The man on the other side was always worn-out by months of battling the harsh waves of the ocean, ...
The Barriers of Control

The Barriers of Control

Photo of the Week
THERE ARE structures of authority that do not only lurk within the walls that forbid rebellion, but also posit the horrors of what the elements of control can inhibit society from doing. These borders continuously control individuals whose bodies have turned into docile subjects of dominance. They are not locked within these highly-built structures, but they are instructed to submit and perform orders, be it one that honors their endurance or one that does not heed to their mileage. There is a sensation of being chained within these walls. Since the chains are not visible, they inherently function not only within this structure but also extend into the depths of society. This sequence of control pushes people further into something that threatens their sanity as it slowly fractures ...
All Longing for Death

All Longing for Death

Photo of the Week
IN AN empty room, there laid a girl whose heart beat slowly. She was all skin and bone, and her face was a painting of emaciation. She waited for Death to come, and excitement flooded her when the air inside the room turned ice-cold. This was the fifth time he had visited her, and he did not look pleased. Death stared at her and immediately knew what she was up to. Despite the girl’s devastating condition, she still managed to smile. “Are you finally going to take me out on that date?” she asked. “Please stop. We cannot be together in this way,” Death replied. He slowly walked toward the bed and sat beside her, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from her face. Her hands shook as she recalled everything she had to go through in order to meet him. She knew the rules: she canno
The First Step

The First Step

Photo of the Week
THE SWARM of pedestrians comes to take you away while I look on powerlessly. They leave me standing alone at the end of the lane, stewing in my own emotions. A newfound feeling settles deep within my chest: it is something as obscure as the impending darkness of the night, yet it burns bright like the last rays of light in dusk. The seconds continue to tick by as you traverse the white lines in cadence with the footsteps of others. There is plenty of time left, but I remain surrounded by a panic as encompassing as the lazy red glow from above. In my vision, everything seems to be at a standstill: the gentle breeze in the air is gone, the vehicles are stuck in traffic, and I am in an impasse. I compel my feet to move, but a surge of hesitance and doubt overpower it. Desperately, I be...
Vigilance

Vigilance

Photo of the Week
THE JEEPNEY was almost empty. I was dead tired and eager to arrive home. The journey was quiet. Nothing was out of the ordinary, yet I felt bothered when I sensed two heavy eyes staring at me. They were from a man sitting on the other side. My mother has always reminded me to remain vigilant of my surroundings. Her reminder echoed inside my head as I observed the man. His stance was alarmingly suspicious as if he was hiding something, but what really made my spine crawl was his blood-curdling, leering, icy stare. My instincts screamed at me to jump off the rattling jeepney, but I froze, frightened by his presence. I tried brushing it off. I convinced myself that there was nothing to worry about. For a split second, I blinked and then he vanished. A small scream tried to esc...
The Borders of Solitude

The Borders of Solitude

Photo of the Week
DURING this time of the day, people would gather their personal possessions and take a break from the workplace. Some would leave the classroom as they hear the clamorous sound of the bell and see the dwindling lights of the hallways while they find their way out of the campus. Others would wait for a ride by the waiting shed as the slow-paced traffic is plagued with vehicles that were quickly occupied by other passengers. Meanwhile, there are also a few who are still on their way to work for their night shift. Beyond these unnoticed or distinguished spaces, something reigns from above: the blinding yet dazzling shades of hope and despair. Some people look forward to coming home to the solace of their loved ones after braving a long day; but there are also who feel like they have su...