Excited ako na hindi ko maintindihan, kinakabahan kung makaka-abot pa sa Flight para sa March,
Thankful ako na nanjan yung Mama at daddy ko para sa sacrifices nila makahanap lang ng pera para sa OJT ko na to,
SANA MATULOY KAME, para mabayaran ko ang lahat ng dapat bayaran , at para mapatunayan ko sa iba na kaya ko din ang ginagawa ng iba, lalo na sa side ng
***** ko, kasi parang di naman kame ganun ka pansinin sa kanila, isa sa dahilan ko na i-pursue ang pag ojt na to para nga Maipakita sa kanila na hindi naman ako basta basta sumusuko, at may mga kaya din akong patunayan.
Thank you LORD our savior para sa opportunity na binibigay niyo saakin at sa pamilya ko, I’ll Praise you Forever !
The forest is deep, the Great Forest the spans for thousands of miles. So much life there. Life pours up, bubbles, practically boils. And in the center, where the tall trees shade shorter trees, that shade the bushes that are taller than the Greenmen, it is dark, not so dark as the purity of Nin, but darkness still. And a great river flows there: Hremumum. The mud is rich. The mud on the shore, on the Meris is life.
And I walked into the woods. I walked into the woods alone. The birds slept, the animals slept, the children of et slept. I walked the woods alone. My feet sank into the mud, cold like the Hremumum’s flow.
In the river I began to work, digging with dirty hands. I scooped up the good mud, the cool mud, leafy, pebbly mud. And I put it on the land. In the darkness I made a pool in the middle of the river, and a lump of life on the shore. Me, Eris, and me. This was my work. Rolling up my sleeves I placed myself, my secret words, my essence into the mud. All the little things, the rolling universes of matter, the black carbon, the pure oxygen and hydrogen, the raw materials of Meris. It’s just stuff. I make it alive, more than alive.
I have a vision in my mind, images collect. I sat before anything and I saw them. I saw them come together. I make it real. I shaped the mud into the image. Water took with earth became red, became blood in tiny rivulets in walls of mud now flesh.
I made three waves, six colors, twelve people.
They took my breath away.
“Wake up. It’s day time.”
I walked upstream, mud to be rinsed by Me’s joyful murmur.
The Hri thought they woke to the song of the red bird. I was happy to let them.
And now I will stop talking to you. Now the earth will speak for itself, because now it can. And the voices will change and sometimes conflict in dissonance. But I wanted you to know my voice now to know what I sound like. Sometimes I will speak, because it will hurt to much, or because I am so happy. But the red bird is singing. This is now their story. The Eliet-a-Meris.