At kung lilikha ka para sa batang ikaw na dakilang panatiko ng maliwanag, mainit at makulay na pasko, na takot maging mag-isa sa lamig na dulot nito—ang likhang piraso na ito ay para sa bawat buhay at hininga ng nabanggit. Katatapos ko lang manalangin. Hindi ko maituturing ang sarili ko bilang deboto. Sadyang kakaiba lang ang dalang himig ng pasko sa ganitong mga pagkakataon. Kaya nakikita ko na lang ang sarili kong pinagdadampi ang dalawang palad at pinapatawid sa hangin ang

Loud crowds, the adrenaline of the players, the thrill of the game, the hard-fought victories, and the shining trophies—these are the typical scenes in the lives of student-athletes, or at least the ones that people see during intramurals, tournaments, and competitions. But beyond the cheers are parts that no audience witnesses. Once the game ends and the crowd leaves, they return to a life most people overlook: missing classes because of tournaments, squeezing schoolwork bet

The air in Manila feels heavy today, and it isn’t just the humidity or the exhaust fumes clinging to the overpasses of EDSA. It is the weight of memory colliding with the friction of survival. It is November 30 again—a date circled in red on the calendar, signaling a pause in the grind of the work week and end of the month, a non-working holiday where the flags are raised a little higher and the wreaths are laid a little fresher. We gather, in spirit or in person, at the foot