The Assyrian: A Review

Title: The Assyrian Author: Nicholas Guild Date Published: 1987 Genre: Historical Fiction Sequel: The Blood Star Summary The story is told from the first-person perspective of the protagonist, Tiglath Ashur, a fictional son of King Sennacherib and half-brother of Prince Essarhadon.  Tiglath was given the mark of the Blood Star of Ishtar on the day his grandfather Sargon was killed by the Kullumites. Sargon is here is not to be confused with the Akkadian king. Author is most likely referring to Sargon II. The people believed that the mark is a curse, and true indeed, it seemed that Tiglath was tricked by his gods. The story covers the first 25 years of his life through the voice of an old Tiglath who now lives in Greece.  The Prince grew up in the house of women along with his half-brother Esarhaddon and many others. It was there where Tiglath met the love of his life, Esharhamat who was fated to be the Mother of Kings and wife to the crown prince, or marsarru.  When they were finally taken out to assume their duties as members of the royal family, they found themselves in the House of War training to be soldiers of the king. At that time a marsarru was already chosen. He was killed however when Babylon was taken. The former marsarru's younger brother seems to have fallen out of favor with the king however. It was at that time that the king began to notice Tiglath's skills in warfare and administration. When the marsarru's brother died, Esarhaddon was next in line to the throne. This was to be the start of a bitter rivalry between the brothers. Esarhaddon was famous for lacking in the necessary skills to be the next king. This Sennacherib saw and was greatly dismayed. Nonetheless, since he was the king's son to his second wife, he had the right to claim the crown. But the king showed everyone that he favors Tiglath over the younger brother. Tiglath wanted no share in the power until he realized Esharhamat came with the throne of Assyria. She was to be the wife of the next king and therefore, marriage to her will seal that claim. After the sack of Babylon, the brothers grew apart from each other. Esarhaddon, poisoned by his mother's venomous words, grew dependent on healers and diviners to make his decisions. This included the rebuilding Babylon, for which the king does not approve. Tiglath, although warned by people closest to him, was strong in his faith in Ashur. He decided to leave Esharhamat and Esarhaddon because it was his belief that it was god's will. Tiglath had grown popular at that time and when he left Nineveh for a garrison at Amat, the tension grew. The threat of a civil war was imminent. All along Tiglath believed that this was what god wanted. He had already chosen to submit to the fate given to him by Ashur and decided he would only wait for the events to unfold. He found out later that his father, King Sennacherib, was killed by his half-brothers Arad Malik and Nabusharusur. This spawned a civil war in Nineveh where Tiglath was forced to send out his army and side with Esarhaddon. It was there where he learned the truth. In the end however, he realized he was blinded by his faith even if the gods already showed him that the path he took was wrong. All along he had been playing through Esarhaddon's mother's plans. He was cheated of his throne and of his woman.  Highlights One of  the most memorable episodes in the book are the battles fought by Tiglath, notably his exploits after he was assigned at Amat. He was shown fighting the Medes, Scythians and Cimmerians. The author also included a detailed description of Zoroastrianism from the protagonist's point of view. Notable also are the characters inspired by the real kings of old. Among those mentioned are Daiaukka and Khshathrita of the Aryans (Medes). The Hero Readers will find it easy to relate to Tiglath Ashur. As a child he was inquisitive and contemplative. He was aware of his role and duty as one of the king's sons, and was quite mature for his age, yet we can still see his childlike innocence and his love for adventure. As an adult he had great leadership and combat skills. But like everyone else he had weaknesses. He isn't detached from us like some god that we cannot understand. He was a victim of his love and kindness, and these earned him both friends and enemies alike. Near the end of the book, readers might find his persistence annoying but one cannot help but admire him for it. He was well aware of his family's and friends' warnings, but he trusted more in Ashur's will. His failure to interpret the visions given to him by Ashur when he visited Mount Epih was perhaps a contributing factor to this. The people of his kingdom loved him more than the marsarru Esarhaddon yet he refused to listen to them. It is easy to admire him for his will to remain truthful to his duties to his god, his kingdom and the love for his brother. The rest of the characters we see through Tiglath's eyes. The most influential people are Kephalos, his Ionian slave; Merope, his mother; Sinahiusur, his uncle and the king's turtanu along with a mysterious blind, holy man, Esarhaddon, Esharhamat and King Sennacherib. He also met good friends along the way, including the leaders of the nations he battled. ************************************ The story presented a different side of the Assyrians. They're well-known for their conquests and were hated by the people they subdued. The story however shows that its people were rich in culture and tradition like many other people from the Fertile Crescent. However, the author's depiction closely resembles that of the Romans. Except for the holidays, rituals and the methods of punishment, the reader can easily imagine Nineveh as another Roman province. His description of the surroundings however are vivid and realistic. The battle scenes are unforgettable. We are given first hand experience of a soldier, who is also the commander, in the battlefield. The glory, hatred and frustration of war are present. We are forced to contemplate how much is the worth of a man's life to save a kingdom from destruction. How each killing blow could mean tears to one soldier's wife and mother. The reader is not just a spectator, but a participant. The author's portrayal of Esarhaddon is far from the real king who had conquered Egypt. Some of the battles fought by Tiglath were led by Esarhaddon in real life. This is a must-read for people who love a little touch of history and romance. We can easily see ourselves in several parts of Tiglath's life and his sentiments about different issues from warfare to his relationships with other people. They are similar to our own as well. Tiglath regretted his actions but he was ready to accept the consequences even if the fault was not his own.

The State of My Nation

The disappointment that filled me when I first exercised my right to suffrage will be one of the things I will never be able to erase in my memory. A few hours after my finger was marked with an indelible ink, I realized that my hopes were for naught. Then I said to myself, why should I be worried? After all I'm not to be blamed for what was in store for the country for the next six years. Although this may sound a bit too accusing, the Philippines has finally showed what it really is made up of -- idiots. It is quite ironic for a country that dreams of a better life for its children to elect someone who is clearly incompetent and unfit for the seat of presidency. We keep demanding for something better yet the majority of us cannot even follow simple traffic rules. We keep accusing the leaders for being corrupt yet we do harm to ourselves and others in little ways we do not know (remember when you first sneaked out of the house to be with our barkada or how you stole a few pesos from your mother's purse?). We are so desperate for a better future that we fail to recognize the truth behind Noynoy's figures of speech and poetic delivery. We dream, yet we lack the vision. We only hunger for the prize and refuse to look at what we have to go through to get there. While listening to the president's state of the nation address earlier today, it struck me how Filipinos love allusions and metaphors so much. How we love to refuse to scrutinize the propositions laid out before us, without even thinking if that promise can be achieved or not. We want to cover everything with sweet words and take it as something that's full of wisdom and meaning. We want short term results and that is quite evident with the shallow understanding of the man you have elected. I hope you are ready to accept whatever the consequences are for taking part in electing a hero that is not needed at this moment. The country has had plenty already and yet we dishonor them and our ancestors by destroying what could have been a great future for us. But perhaps that is what we need after all. Someone to wake us up from our dreams and make us face the reality that dreams are not enough. A sincere heart is not enough. For to guide a nation that is poised for success doesn't require sincerity alone and a man who dwells in the past mistakes of other people. We need someone who understands not just the heart of the people, but how to govern a nation with the heart AND a sound mind.

The White Shirt

The White Shirt

"Hmm...I think this color looks better on Ore-sama's perfect, flawless complexion, don't you think so Kabaji?", mused Atobe while he ran his hands through his perfect, shiny hair.

"Usu."

Atobe rolled his eyes, "I knew you would say that".

He got another long-sleeved polo shirt from the rack. "Cheap", he muttered. "Ore-sama should wear only the finest so people can admire the sight of ore-sama's beauty". He snapped his finger and a female attendant appeared at his side carrying more clothes to choose from. Kabaji stared, unmoving.

While Atobe was trying on some of the clothes, another customer arrived. Kabaji stared at him.
"Ah, so this is the place. How nice", Shinji buzzed. He saw the pile of new arrivals at the farthest corner of the store and stood before it, thinking loudly to himself. "Kamio said it's expensive here. But I need to find something to wear for the party tomorrow even if I don't want to attend though they will probably have lots and lots of food. Should I call Kamio and tell him I don't want to go? But I want to go. We have practice tomorrow after class so how are they going to make it on time. Maybe Tachibana-san wants to go too. That means we're not going to have any practice. But the tournament is about to start two weeks from now...", Shinji mumbled on, ignoring the attendant beside him. Kabaji stared, unblinking.

"Kabaji, sit!", Atobe ordered when he noticed that the guy has not moved an inch from his position. "Do you want to just stand there all day?"

"Usu."

Atobe pouted his full lips and glanced at the mirror. "Next time ore-sama should just take Oshitari".

"Usu".

Atobe snapped his fingers and the attendant brought him a new set of clothes to choose from. After 20 minutes, the Hyotei team captain dumped the pile at the counter. "My wallet Kabaji."

"Usu", the big man rose and handed Atobe his Louis Vuitton bag. Then Atobe's perfect vision found the white long-sleeved shirt at the new arrivals corner. "Ah, ore-sama wants that one, and ore-sama shall have it."

Kabaji stood at the counter, the bag held out in front of him, "Usu".

Atobe strode beautifully, his silver hair waving. Then he stopped. He recognized the man with the blue cap who seemed to be talking to himself.

"Ore-sama didn't know that Fudomine people can afford to go to these places. Surely, you're not lost, ah?"

Shinji turned to him. "How arrogant", he droned monotonously.

"I want to have this white shirt for the party tomorrow..."

Atobe cut in, "Ore-sama has used clothes if you want. But ore-sama has to have that shirt. Only ore-sama will look good on that, right Kabaji?"

"Usu."

"Hmph. You may be right but I can afford it. How dare you insult other people. Hmph. You can't even beat Echizen. But then I can't even do that either. If only that racquet did not hit his eye. But it was my fault and it's no excuse. I've lost and Echizen is better. I should practice more. Maybe I should ask Tachibana-san to improve our...", Shinji turned away from Atobe and began his long litany once more.

Atobe raised a neatly trimmed eyebrow. "Get it, Kabaji."

"Usu".

Suddenly, someone slapped Kabaji's hand away from the corner. "I'm taking this", the man glared. Kabaji blinked and cocked his head to one side.

"Get it, Kabaji!"

Kabaji did not answer.

"You dare to disobey ore-sama's commands, ah!?"

"Why? you have objections, pretty boy?", a husky voice answered him. "I'm taking this and no one can do anything about it." Akutsu turned around to face Atobe, "Keh!"
Shinji was still talking to himself.

Atobe stared at Akutsu, who was grinning and clenching his fists, then turned away. "It doesn't matter. Ore-sama can find better outfits than that. Let that thief buy something decent to wear. Ore-sama will not go down to his level. Let's go Kabaji. Let him have it. It suits his pale, ugly face anyway."

"Usu", Kabaji picked up more than a dozen shopping bags and followed Atobe outside, nearly stumbling.

Akutsu chuckled.

"How arrogant", Shinji muttered.

The Secret Ingredient

He dropped to his knees when exhaustion finally claimed him. He was breathing hard and was bathing in his sweat but Kaidoh felt cold inside. 

It was almost past 10 in the evening. He was supposed to take the bus but he figured that he could use the timefor a few minutes of jogging. He wants to be ready for the next match. He was walking home from Eiji's house, grateful that he cannot hear stupid Momo's stories when he saw Inui-sempai. He waved but Inui did not see him so he decided to observe his sempai first. He was busy tinkering with something but Kaidoh could not see what it was that interested Inui because it was dark. 

"Haha...finally I found the ultimate recipe for my next project", he declared. Kaidoh could only see the flashlight he was holding. He moved closer cautiously, not wanting to disturb his sempai but curious at the same time. By being able to see what Inui was up to will make him ready next time he's asked to drink those awful concoctions. 

He stopped when he saw something glimmer. Inui was murmuring to himself. Maybe he's trying to list down the ingredients, Kaidoh thought and swallowed hard, remembering the strange color of the last juice he had. Suddenly Inui got up. He noticed he was holding something in his right hand but the shadows concealed it. 

Inui was silent now. With his back to Kaidoh, he pushed up his glasses and after a while he said, "It had to be done or my creation won't be complete."  Puzzled, Kaidoh squinted at the mysterious object. He can only see the shape and he's sure he has seen this thing somewhere.

Inui picked up a plastic bag and as he turned to Kaidoh's direction, he slipped the specimen inside it. Kaidoh almost screamed but he was so terrified at what he saw that he could not even draw a breath for a few seconds. Luckily, Inui did not notice him behind the bushes and the went in the opposite direction. Kaidoh was stunned. As realization began to sink in, his spirits slowly sank. He wanted to go after Inui and beat him. He wanted to cry and scream at Inui and tell him how evil he is. Then he found himself running. He did not care where he was going, he just wanted to run.

As he sat in the middle of the road, still breathing hard, Kaidoh wrapped his arms around his legs and wept softly for the cat.

Storm

STORM

December 7^th. A day before the fiesta in Dinagat, Surigao del Norte, my family set out for a perilous trip across the angry Pacific in a rattling boat. The heavy rain kept pounding on the rotting roof. The waters drummed on the sides and kept us unsteady on our feet. Even the wind were merciless;they deafen the ears. But the eagerness to attend a long-awaited family reunion kept us in high spirits amidst the storm.

It was almost impossible to cross yet we braved on. The boat had to sail in its slowest possible speed to keep it afloat. It was hell hot inside. Everyone was silent as statues and even the little kids were aware of the danger. It seems that the slightest movement will inch them closer to death. I opened up ode window to let the air in. Instead, rain ambushed my face. Still wet, I went out and climbed up to the exposed roof and sat beside my cousin who was soaked to the bones.

Fear crept up to my spine as I gazed upon the entrance to Hell. The view of the ravaging waters was frightening yet exciting. I suddenly asked myself how those majestic and calm waters in the summer could turn into havoc. But of course I knew the answers. As I closed my eyes, the boat suddenly jerked to one side I almost fell off. The waves must have sensed my fear and were now reaching its claws to drown me. An unknown darkness lay ahead. There were no islands nearby. The waves now as tall as buildings, shook the miserable boat for what seemed like eternity.

Suddenly I was aware I couldn't swim.

Water filled up the lower boat but we weren't sinking. Water filled up the lower part through open windows.

Flashes of light cracked open the skies and thunder played like an orchestra of death. While rain showered the tears of heaven and lamented upon our mishap, I was keeping the tears from flowing out of my eyes.

Two hours later we reached dry land.

The experience was worth forgetting but the memory cannot be tricked.

Slamduncan

Who is the next Michael Jordan? The list of names might go on forever but this player I'm going to talk about is not likely to be a candidate. Jordan undoubtedly is the best player to play the guard position and perhaps Tim Duncan might be the best power forward to play in the NBA.. He's not one of the flashiest players like Vince Carter or Shaq or Kobe; he doesn't have Allen Iverson's stutter crossover and he's not even among the most popular faces in the league. That is why some NBA fans are surprised when told of his accomplishments in his eight-year career. Duncan embodies the philosophy of pure basketball yet inly a few could appreciate him. But who really is this player? Why is he underrated? And what is behind this silent unmovable force that placed the San Antonio Spurs as the 2005 champions? After Jordan's second retirement I lost interest in the NBA. But on May17, 2002, one week after my birthday, a man with a blank expression on his face caught my eye. I never got interested with the Kobe-Shaq tandem even though it was obvious the Spurs are the underdogs. They eventually lost the second round series and the Lakers went on to win the title. But that day changed my life forever. I didn't have good reasons back then why I was so impressed with Tim but after three years of crying and rejoicing with him I knew the answers. But before Tim entered the league in 1997, he did not play organized basketball until he was 13 years old. He concentrated on swimming as a youngster_-and at one point was a top competitor in his age group in the 400 meter freestyle- before his local pool was destroyed by hurricane Hugo in 1989. after his mother's death, he quit swimming altogether because it reminded him of her death. This Virgin Islands native answered the call of basketball and within two years he was among the top prospects in college basketball. Duncan attended Wake Forest University and graduated with a degree in Psychology. Then in the 1997 NBA Draft he was selected as the top overall pick. It turned out that the San Antonio Spurs got more than what they wanted from their employee number 21. After winning all six Rookie of the Month honors and the Rookie of the Year award, he established his name as one of the best big men in the league. In his sophomore year he piloted the Spurs to their first ever NBA title, against the New York Knicks, in the team's 26-year history. It didn't stop there, after winning back-to-back MVP trophies he and his team won a second title in 2003 against the New Jersey Nets. But the biggest challenge was yet to come in the 2005 Finals series against the Detroit Pistons who battled them to seven games. Their win in the series closed the mouths of Duncan's critics and attracted new Spurs fans. His accomplishments are products of pure hardwork and his belief on his teammates' talents. His talent overwhelms defenses and stuns his fans and critics. He's very deadly at fifteen feet with his bank shots. His post moves are eye-popping because his graceful moves are rare to seven footers. His defense is unquestionable and is among the most admired by NBA legends and fellow active players. He can shoot behind the arc if needed. He can pass, run the fast-break, rebound and do the dirty work. No doubt he is among the only ten players in NBA history to win two or more Most Valuable Players Awards. He is a consistent All-Star participant even in his rookie year. Despite all these accomplishments, most NBA fans still place him beneath the categories of media darlings especially Shaquille O'Neal. The only criticism Duncan gets however are his free-throw shooting and his aloofness to the media. Unlike other players, he is silent and sometimes he has that 1000-yard look on his face that most viewers find distracting. Are spectacular dunks, multi-million dollar shoe endorsements and extended television exposure the standards to measure the talent of a player? Few fans realize that Duncan has accomplished so much more than did the very popular Allen Iverson. If one looks at his statistics, he is clearly not average. He doesn't need to score thirty points every night however because he has teammates who could shoot the lights out in the game. If were to sum him up in three words, I will describe him as silent, powerful and deadly. He has the total package only that he doesn't seem to like being in the spotlight. Only blind men with great hatred in their hearts would deny him the place in NBA history as the best power forward ever to play. And besides there are no close contenders yet. For now he has to concentrate on one thing at the start of the new season this November: to defend their title. 
Sources: nba.com/playerfile/tim_duncan/index �Tim Duncan Speaks Up� by Henry Abbott. Hoop magazine. May 2002, pp.34-44

Larawan

Di ko lubos akalaing ganito kasakit ang paghihinagpis na daranasin ko. Kaybigat ng aking dibdib at halos di na mapigilan ang agos ng aking luha.Wala na. Wala na akong hahabulin, kukulitin at lalaruin sa labas. Wala na. Wala ng sasalubong sakin na halos matumba sa wagayway ng buntot.Wala na. Wala ng magmamakaawa para humingi ng makakain. Wala na. Wala na kayo na itinuring ko na parang mga kapatid na tao. Kung ano man ang pagkukulang koy pinagdurusahan ko na ngayon.Mahal ko kayong pareho. Ngunit kahit ano pang laban ang gawin natiy di tayo para sa isat isa.

Mga alaala sa isip koy di na mabubura pa. At ang sakit ay dadalhin ko sa bawat minutong kayoy maaalala.

Nagtataka at nagtatanong ngunit wala akong sinisisi. LAhat tayoy nagmahal, nasaktan at lumuha.

Nagdurusa rin kami sa sakit sa inyong pilit nilalabanan. Ngunit wala kaming magawa. Sanay sa mga maliligayang alaala natin ay nagbunga ito ng kasiyahan sa mga bata nating puso.


Paalam sa inyo.

Paalam Kaibigan

Kung sa pagdanak ng dugo mo lang maaabot ang dulo ng iyong puso, sanay di ko na lang hinanap pa. 

Ninais kong abutin at ibigay ang pag-ibig na nararapat kong isukli. 

Ngunit ang susi lang pala ay kamatayan. 

Nagbukas man ng pinto ang silid ng aking damdamin, nagsara naman ito ng pinto ng buhay. 

Buhay na puno ng ligaya. 

Buhay na pinuno mo ng ngiti. 

Di mo man ako marinig ngayoy nais kong malaman mo na mahalaga ka sakin.

Tinulungan mo kong maging mapagmahal na tao.

Ikaw pa man na di tao ay hinaplos ang puso kong kaytigas upang hanapin ang mga luha ng pagkalinga. Ngayoy lubos na nangungulila sayo ang kaluluwa ko. 

Ikaw ang parte ng buhay ko na kailanmay di mamamatay kahit ikay wala na.

Sana sa iyong huling hiningay naisip mong mahal ka namin. 

Kahit wala kami sa tabi moy nasa iyo ang pusot damdamin namin. 

Paalam kaibigan, ay salamat sa mga ngiting iniwan mo.

Tahan na Anak Ko

akoy naghuhumapis, aking anak

na heto ka at nagsusukab

nang isinambulat bahong di akin,

at sabihing akoy nahhimbing.




paglingap sa inyoy walang halaga

datapwat akoy inyong binaka;

ipamintakasang kayoy inaglahi

pati si ama inyong isinali.




kayong binihisan at tinuruan,

pagkatao nonyoy kaning kadluan,

kayoy nasalag mula sa kamatayan

ng pinopoon nyong sinisiraan.




ngunit naririmlan kang mrahil

at ngayoy nais mo kong lisanin

isipin anak ang iyong pakikipagmoog

ay marahil iyong ikalugmok




kayat tahan na at matulog

kalimutan ang mga himutok

sundin na lamang aking payo

pagkat kabutihan moy ako lang nakatatarok.

Para Sa mga Nawalan

Minsay may mag bagay sa buhay mo na bigla-biglay kinukuha na lang ng kapalaran.mga bagay na akala moy magbibigay ng panghabambuhay na kasiyahan. mga bagay na akala moy iyong-iyo na. ang lubos ana kaligayahan di kailanman matatamasa dito sa mundong ibabaw pagkat di dito nagtatapos ang buhay ng tao. ngunit may mga pagkakataong binibiyayaan ka ng higit sa anumang iyong inaasahan. panadalian ngunit dala mo hanggang sa hukay na mga alaala.aakalain mong het nat natagpuan mo na sa wakas ang perpektong bagay. ngunit hiram lang pala at bukas makalawa ay luahaan ka na. kayat pauloy kang maghahanap at maghihinatay. minsay darating at may papalit. ngunit mayron ding wala. ano man ang kahihinatnan iisa lamang ang mensahe ne maykapal:mahalin at pahalagahan mo ang bawat tao,hayop, bagay at pangyayaring minsan lang magbubuhos ng biyaya, pagmamahal at kasiyahan sa buhay mong puno ng lingkot, galit at kawalan.

Sagot ni Bathala

mula sa luwad kayoy aking nilikha

tulad ng aking anyo at hitsura

hinipan ng hangin ng buhay

upang ang mundoy bigyan ninyo ng kulay




isinambulat ang mga biyayang kayrami

upang maging kasiya-siya ang inyong paglagi

ang tubig, hangin, mga hayop at halaman

sa inyoy ipinagkatiwala upang palaguin at pangalagaan




nang lumawig ay nalimutan ang pangakong ito

pagkat sa inyong mga ninanasa ay unti-unti kayong nalugmok

mga bagay sa inyo ay ipinagwalang -bahala

sa paninira ninyoy nawala ang lahat




akoy naghuhumapis sa inyong pagkalisya

tuloy sumagi sa akin ng bigla,

panong napunta ang lahat sa wala

at dustain ang mga ibinygay sa inyo sa pangwawalat?




dinggin ang aking himutok

upang ang katotohanan ay inyong matarok

na sa inyong pamamalagi sa mundo

kakambal niyo ang tungkuling kalingain ang gantimpalang ito.

Breaking the Chains of Idleness

I've been on hiatus for over a year. As you can see I don't have any entries for 2009 so I've decided to set aside more time for writing.

I've been busy with school and other things lately. I spend most of my time either playing with my console or exploring Gaia Online. I haven't even finished two books a few months ago.

To my horror, I find myself groping in the dark for topics to write about. It seems my brain is getting a bit rusty. Then a thought struck me. Why not write about the things I'm currently interested with? I've been sharing my thoughts in the forums at Gaia for the past several months and I thought, hey why not post them here as well. After all I didn't just make an account here to serve as a 'backup folder' for my previous works.

I'll be posting more in the next few weeks. I'll probably review a few games and books.

Becoming Without Being

Note: This was my paper for Prose Styles (COMA 109)

Do I really know who I am and what is my life’s purpose? Oftentimes this question pops up in my head. I mean, I can only wonder what the point is for all of this. I go to school and travel an hour and a half to get home and back, eat and sleep, make friends and enemies, fail and succeed, for what? Does it really matter to anyone if I get hit by a car one day on my way to school? Surely, it would not make any difference to the world. Perhaps my family and friends will be concerned about me, but just like me, their existence is also a mystery.

Who am I? The first idea that comes to mind when somebody asks us this is our name. But the name is just like a label. It is not who I really am. A name is given for the sake of identification. It does not include the details of my life and furthermore, there are a lot of other people who have the same name.

So, who am I? Besides the name, I will probably list my hobbies, dislikes and interests. But do they make up everything that I am? My hobbies can change and I can easily include other things in my list if I wanted to. My personality is merely a tiny part of who I think I am.

Possibly my body is what makes up my self. What I was is who I am right now. But it cannot be probable. The minute I was born, changes have been occurring in my body. For nineteen years, billions of my cells have been created and destroyed. If who I am are the cells in my body, I can claim that I am not the same person as last year’s or the years before that.

There is something definitely wrong with the question. Changes in our body and personality are happening constantly. There is no stable self. The statement is structured based on the assumption that what makes up both your past and present is who you are at this minute. It cannot be possible that what I was when I was 5 years old is who I really am now but who I was. Instead of who are you or who am I, it should be more explicit. If one wants to ask about a person’s name, it should be what is your name? When one wants to inquire about the other’s interests, hobbies and the like, it should be what do you do for fun? or what are your hobbies?

Such query may also have surfaced because we want things to be permanent. We want to leave something of ourselves that will endure through time. We’d like to think that we all have a stake in the world affairs. We’d like to think that we are important components in the society. We study and work to become successful. In the end, one will realize that after years of hard work, there are still a lot of things one wants to achieve. Once we get to where we want we realize we need something else better. And so man continues his quest. Whatever it is, he knows it all leads to something. We create and we destroy so we can create. Yet at the back of our minds we know that man’s legacy will last no longer than a bubble. So what is the purpose of it all?

            I could point out specific reasons why I do what I do. I go to school so I can look for a decent job and earn my own money. I eat and sleep because my body needs them. I make friends to make connections. And yet, do any of these things answer the question? I do not exist just so I could work to survive. Nor do I live just to eat and sleep so I can live. And my life certainly does not revolve around relationships. So, again, what is the point?

            There are different viewpoints through which we could look at and meet the subject. On a religious stance, one might argue that man exists to serve and glorify God. The meaning of our existence can only be answered by God. All our actions will determine whether we will live in eternal bliss or burn and be damned forever. But why does God exist? What is the point of His existence, if at all He does exist? Such an argument is just another excuse to avoid the inevitable question. People have a tendency to look at what is in the end of the tunnel and not at the consuming darkness in front of them. We are too impatient to traverse the long road and therefore jump at conclusions when a seemingly sensible explanation presents itself to us. By denying the possibility of a justification, society has put up walls and placed a sign saying that God is the answer to everything.

            Science on the other hand, amidst all its wonders does not necessarily answer the problem at hand. By tinkering on the life processes and the phenomena in nature, it only strengthened the need for an account on why these things are created and its purpose. Decoding all the secrets of our DNA will not reveal why it exists in the first place. Laws and theories, figures and statistics, logic and reason can only answer the question how and reveal the processes.

Man-made structures cannot withstand time, artworks will eventually crumble, and even literature will lose its magic one day. So why do we continue to create? Why do we need to uncover the secrets of our body, our society, our planet? And do the stars reveal the answer?

            Perhaps there is no answer. Man tries to race against time fueled by his search for immortality. This is why history books are written. But the battle against time is hopeless. There is no such thing as a legacy. What one has done is past. The intensity of the action that has been done cannot be felt at the present. Revolutions and wars are nothing more than just letters on the pages of a book. Experiences leave only scars and impressions in the mind which need to be summoned and be recalled. Most would hope to be remembered and remain alive in the hearts and minds of the people they care about, but even the memory fades away along with the person. What once was can never be again. Everything that man does seem pointless.

            Looking back at my life, I have had frustrations and triumphs. I have had both good and bad moments. There are things that I wanted to do but never did and there are still more that I want to do. I have had regrets but all I can do is suffer the consequences of the choices I made. Why should I look at my life as a means to an end? What does it matter if I am just a mutation that leads to a new species in the evolutionary tree? Why look to the future when the present has the answers. I exist for the present moment. And who I am is how I live my life right this minute. It cannot be an I was or I used to be because it is part of the past. Neither can it be I will be. Who I was a minute or a second ago is not me at the present. I do things that I do today because the existing circumstances have compelled me to choose and to act.

Looking towards the future may give one a glimmer of hope, but one must not invest all efforts in something that is not sure to happen. Life will still be as it is even without its meaning. People will still suffer and triumph; wars and conflicts will go on; there will be more and more people trying to answer this mystery, but even without all the answers it is still worth a try. As Arthur Schopenhauer puts it, “You could, to be sure, base on considerations of this kind a theory that the greatest wisdom consists in enjoying the present and making this enjoyment the goal of life, because the present is all that is real and everything else merely imaginary. But you could just as well call this mode of life the greatest folly: for that which in a moment ceases to exist, which vanishes as completely as a dream, cannot be worth any serious effort.”[1]

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[1] Arthur Schopenhauer. “On the Vanity of Existence”. The Meaning of Life. Edited by E.D. Klemke. NY, USA: Oxford, 2000. p.68.

My Housing Petition for Gaia Online

My Housing Petition for Gaia Online