The 30-Day Blog Challenge

Hiya, guys!

I have to admit I've been on a blogging slump lately. Probably because of the holiday season -- I'm raring to have a 'vacation leave' of sorts for the next few days. Which is quite hard to do because it's the peak season for home workers like me! What should I do.

Photo credit here

So as an attempt to keep my literary creative juices flowing (is that even an acceptable phrase?), I decided to accept the 30-day blogging challenge.

The mechanics: to post a blog entry every single day for 30 days. Each day has a specific theme, so the writer/blogger will write about that theme for the day assigned.

There are tons of different writing challenges available online these days, but which one did I chose? Click 'Read More' to find out.

A Letter to the Greatest Heartbreaker

I have not met you face to face, but I know how you hurt people. You take away the most important things from them in such a short notice, or even without one. You destroy friendships, you break families, you cut the ties of almost every person you come across. Most importantly, you make them question their faith in whomever they believe in.

But my biggest wonder about you is how some people anticipate your arrival. Some even do great lengths for you to come to them, even after despising you after taking away something from them.

I don't mean to question your existence -- you are a hard pill to swallow at one point of our lives. No one escapes, even me; so I won't dare to contest that. But if that's the case, why do you come off as 'the greatest heartbreaker ever?' Why do you go on bringing tears to one's eyes? Why do you go on taking away the most treasured things from them?

I could go on listing down all questions for you to answer, even though I know you won't respond to them, like, ever. Because you have your reasons that we will never understand until later on, or maybe not at all. Probably because you know we'll get by even though we thought we could not recover.

I'm writing this to you because of one person that means so much to me. You see, this person was like a hidden treasure that I found just when I, like, lost all of my fortunes. He took care of me more than the way I wanted him to. And I took care of him more than the way he wanted me to.

But because of you, he lost that one thing that he value the most, other than me. He was so devastated, and over time, I found my treasure slowly tarnishing, losing his luster. Then one day, he asked me what you look like, what do you do, what will happen if he meets you.

And I was like, no, you're too young to meet you. Besides, you will come at the right time and just have to wait. But he could not. He said things will only get better if he meets you and comes along with you, and maybe stay with you for good.

For this reason, I only have one wish: please don't listen to him. Don't come to him just yet. It's selfish for me to say this, but please give me more time to be with him. I want to show him how much he means to me. I want him to be ready when you meet him; and by that I mean he have lived his life without any pretenses, regrets and ill-feelings, and that he has experienced how it was like to be loved in return.

Lovingly pleading,
Jessa

Blast From the Past

By this time you guys already know that I am a writer. But here's the thing: whenever I tell people where I work, they would just gasp, say great things (or diss them or whatever), and then ask me, 'Saang program ka?'

Sure, I work for a media network, but for crying out loud, I don't belong to any program whatsoever! Law school and working extended hours just to satisfy your executive producer (or at times, your b!+@#y boss also known as the host) will never ever mix. At least in my book.

If that is the case, where the hell am I working?

I am working for the company's Media Assets Management Department.

'Where the hell is that?" you might ask, I know. To make things simpler, I'll put it this way: 'I work for the company's Central Archives.

No, no, I'm not into the librarian kind of thingy in my work description. That's why I'm here to explain things out.


You see, after each program tape has been aired or after each unedited tapes has been used for a certain program, these tapes are kept for archiving and organized according to program, airing date (or capture date), or genre, just like what librarians do with books.

Just like with libraries, each tape comes with a 'catalog file,' where all the information about the tape are indicated. This is done so that researchers (the ones who usually use these tapes) could easily find these tapes according to the topic that they will be covering. These files are placed in a special media archiving program where all these tapes are consolidated and organized.

We, the writers, are the ones who are responsible for making the catalog files. In my case, I belong to the team that handles the Current Affairs program tapes (think: documentaries and magazine shows).

It was a pretty easy job, but not totally. Because the most important part of my job is to write the gists for each episode of a program and each segment of an episode. Think of the summary of a novel that you read at the back of the book - that's exactly what we are doing.

So where's the hard part there? You see, there are many things to consider when doing summaries. First and foremost is grammar (no doubt about that). Second, the K.I.S.S. rule, because primarily, the 'audience' of our writings is the researchers, and they don't have much time to watch the whole segment just to find that particular scene that they are looking for, let alone read the whole story of a segment. And there are some episodes and segments that are so info-packed that it is quite tempting to put all that info in one summary. But of course, that won't work if you want to keep your summary short and simple.

Yeah, basically we just sit in front of a PC, watch programs, and then write their summary.

The upside? I get to go back in the past through these programs. I get to view some of the issues in the past, in the perspective of the time that it was aired. It's like having a time machine in your PC screen.

Sounds fun after all, right? :)








Oh, by the way, my favorite story that I've encountered was that of Vizconde massacre. Gross, I know, but when I saw the archives of the programs where the said case was featured, you'll know the reason why that case is so controversial. Hehehe.

An Entry from a Diary of an Ex-Convict

Disclaimer: I wrote this 'entry' this morning at around 1AM, in between unkempt feelings, tears and swollen eyes. I'm feeling better now, probably because I've written off my feelings in this 'entry'. As I was reading this, I thought it's so blog-worthy, I should share this to you guys. So enjoy!


25 November


I'm sitting at a park bench, with a pen and a notebook in hand. Just like any other day, I'm all by myself. But then I'm used to it - after all, I've been living alone since I got free.

And just like any other day, people still stare at me whenever I pass the street. I could see some of them whisper at each other while looking into my eyes. I can't hear what they are saying, but I know it's me that I'm talking about.

There really is that social stigma attached to us - those few people who were once forfeited of their liberty for a conduct that is prohibited by human law. And that stigma always goes with you, even after your liberty is restored. But then I am only free physically. Everything else is enclosed in a cage.

When I first step foot outside, I'm filled with hope that I could start a new life, without caring much about my past. But later on, I found out that it is easier said than done. Because of the stigma attached to me, people shunned me, and try their best to stay away from me. And the thing is, I haven't done anything to them just yet. I volunteered to help them in any way that I can, just to prove my best intentions. But they just ignored me, it's like saying to me, 'I'd rather do this by myself than to have this done by someone like you.' And because people stay away from me, I practically don't have any friends.

So basically, I'm alone, lonely and with no company. These were the time that I would have sleepless nights just staring at the ceiling while I lay in my bed, thinking of my colleagues whom I have left behind. Then the words that they told me before I left keep playing in my mind:

'Try your best to forget about us. Start a new life, make new friends, get a girl, get married, have kids - do anything. Just don't do anything that will make you go back here.'

But why is it so hard to forget you guys, and that place? Why is it so hard to start a new life? Is it because I feel like I don't belong in my new world, and I will never belong here? Is it because I miss you and our bittersweet days? Is it because the people around me are not used to being close to a person like me?

Is it because no matter what I do, no matter what I gain in the future, I could never escape my past - the fact that I was once an ex-convict?

Yes, I may be free, physically. But I could never be free from my past, free from people's discrimination, free from uncertainty in my future, free from all the things associated to my imprisonment.

Oh, well. I don't care about that now. Anyway, I don't trust them, the people around me. They can't even get close to me and make an effort to know them better, so why should I trust them? I can manage to live by myself. I can manage to build my own destiny, now that I'm outside the bars.

I hope I really could...

Because without anyone trusting me, what else is left of me?