Vampire Confession

Ladies and gentlemen, I have an important confession to make. For the many years of my existence in this often cruel world, I have always pinned and longed for my stolen humanity. I like to sit in the darkness and mope all by myself. Yes, I am a vampire.

But no, don't dread me at all. I am a vampire in a deeper internalized essence. I empathize to saddest experiences. I express thoughts in creative means. I definitely long for serenity.

I like to pass time listening to melodramatic lyrics of intensely emotional songs. While I have become a fan of these popular songs to suit with the modern day, I am also an admirer of touching classic renditions that tackle about wrecked love, lost friendship, broken dreams, obscure life. This way, I understand other people's sorrows aside from my own, and become more emphatic to them, and even grateful for my own.

I enjoy writing stories and poems to convey my ideas and feelings. Ever since I was a child, I knew I have an innate passion in playing words with pen and a piece of paper. This does not only please my desire to release my thoughts  but also satisfy my need to share my life story with the rest of the world. I am no immortal by flesh, but by thoughts. I believe that I will live in eternity as long as there will be people who will read my printed manifestation.

No. I tend to avoid crowds not due to absolute overflow of pranic energy, but because I am naturally just a serene creature. I agree on being a social bloke, but I also need solitude once in a while. Sometimes, if not oftentimes, decisions must be brooded alone. There are things in life that are best weighed in tranquil moments, not in confessing to companions nor in partying with club animals.

I am a vampire in liberal essence. I adore creative thought, emotional processing, and noble desire. My object is not stagnation but dynamism. I want to be sympathetic to others and intimate in relationship with them. My goal is not domination but respect.

If you are one, tell me. I thirst for your thoughts and hunger for your stories. Let's howl life together come full moon. No need to watch out your neck. Mine are only false fangs.

Concert King

Do I sound like a real concert king enough to be invited to sit as an honorable judge for a contest of most amazing vocal chords?

Alright, I am a no good singer, but I love to hear music, and maybe recite, if that's how it applies to me. I must admit that my singing really sounds horrendously bad as if a rooster is literally scratching a blackboard. Yet, though I habitually sing off the key, I realized that there's more to singing than just hitting the right note.

First, regardless if I was blessed to have a golden voice or not, singing is an expression of my emotions. Depending on the swing of my mood, I have bastardized almost every kind of song in the name of expressing my feelings. When I am plotting a vengeful desire, I scream Gives You Hell. When I am poignant next moment, I croon Stitches and Burns. When somebody breaks me, I burst into Fixing A Broken Heart. But right now, I feel awesome so I am belting out All Star! Yay!

Second, singing is a way of keeping memories. There are times when I walk in the street and hear a particular song that suddenly strikes a chord in me. Everytime I chance upon This Love in my playlist, I remember vividly the long, windy trip, riding in the van with my fellow high school peer educators. When the song Moment of Truth is played over the radio, the scene of my junior year in the house with my board mates comes into my  mind. If I hear What Matters Most, I miss my granny and her face conjures up my mind. 

Third, singing is my form of therapy. I occasionally suffer from stress and burnout. Sometimes, I keep tossing on my bed at night, my mind unable to sleep although I am physically so tired. Playing classic songs such as that of Air Supply and The Carpenters lulls me eventually to the dreamland. When ruminating about decisions to make, I usually hum with symphonies of Beethoven and Strauss which has, for me, clearing effects to my rather flustered thinking. Singing indeed regains my senses to a humanly normal semblance.

So, back to the question above, I have no doubts that I am one singing royalty - in my own room - at least. Singing is an expression of one's uniqueness. I am a flawed creature with no golden voice and in that case that's what gives me my uniqueness. If I sound all the same with every person in this world perfectly hitting all notes all of the time, then I and you, may as well just shut up forever.

So, holding the handle of the dipper in the bathroom which is my theater stage, give it up for no less than myself - the concert king!

Semester Break?

It's time to relax from reading syllables and counting bananas. The last exams were over and a mass exodus was heard among the pupils as they went out the portals of the school today - a telltale sign that the most anticipated semester break has finally began!

Or hey, is there semester break, really?

I don't think I will have a real vacation from work just yet. Well, being a teacher is synonymous to being dead as a doornail. I still have to toss into the air and catch different responsibilities of work. Which means all these "different responsibilities" will eat up my supposed to be hiatus period.

On Monday and Tuesday, I am going to attend a seminar. I will just have to steal moments between the official hours of the activity in order to do my bank transactions. On Wednesday, I am going to consolidate the solicitation letters. Amidst this sideline business, I will have to think in advance of my needs and pack my stuffs for the next task. And on Thursday, it will be time to travel for scouting jamborette. I will have to spend an unimaginable life for the next five days in an unimaginable place of tents.

Which all reduce my relaxation time to five days.

Alright, I think I will still have to apologize and thank instead. I've got to enjoy the remaining five days still - that is, please heavens, if there will be no more announcements of activities soon. Five days is still five days of sleeping like a log and eating like a horse.

So, going back to my French, maybe five days is just enough not to read syllables and count bananas. Even if I damn wished of a break for two weeks, I think I can manage five days. Anyway, I don't have a choice, do I?

Happy semester break everyone!

A Zillion Thanks

To the wonderful pieces of a puzzle -

The children with autism.

This work is dedicated for all of you.

Someone once said: “Easy is the task that is shared by many.” While this study never became an easy task, its crafting surely was an awesome journey for the researcher because of the people who shared their lives with him in completing this.

Prof. Alicia P. Pulido, his thesis adviser, whose guidance, support, encouragement and knowledge helped so much in the realization of this research endeavor;

Dr. Ma. Lourdes D. Galla, Chairman of the Panel of Examiners, for her valuable explanations and suggestions, especially in the statistical aspect of this study;

Dr. Lito S. Adanza and Dr. Domingo M. Non, Members of the Panel of Examiners for their perceptive observations and recommendations for the enhancement of the manuscript;

Flordeline Precious D. Lao, Linaver M. Cane, Dinah Jean A. Tacogue, and Lolymar J. Reyes for validating the instrument of this study and sharing their fields of expertise;

The respective principals and coordinators of the elementary, secondary and integrated schools that offer special education program where this study was conducted for granting permission;

The SpEd teachers, who amiably opened their doors and willingly served as respondents, for furnishing the needed data upon which this study basically relied on;

Joane Cher Yturalde, Fortunato Bacus, Junellen Panesa, Wennie Clarete, Cherish Marie Palma, Ritchie Barte, Paula Lozano, Luna Griengo, Rose Molarto, Lovella Magno, Elvira Pedregosa and Bella Dadula for promptly responding to the queries and requests of the researcher during the period of data gathering;

His new found friends in special education, Nanette Leal, Marilyn Pama, Genie Sunga and Nanet Rodel for their kind cooperation;

Ana Frella Eusalan, Jesus Managa, and Clotilde Aninon for tremendously attending to his research needs during the final process of his graduate school journey;

The welcoming and accommodating family of Harold Alagao and Lily Alagao for providing the researcher a second home to stay;

His remarkable amigos since college days Nathaniel Bangoc, Janice Bartolaba and Jenalyn Cagas, who have extended their helping hands for this study;

His co-teachers in Sabino Elementary School for their immense understanding and consideration during the most demanding circumstances;

All the rest of his professional classmates for contributing something for his growth as an educator and making his graduate school experience worth enjoying;

His gracious and wonderful Lola Pinky for being one of channels of blessings in his life in countless ways;

His much beloved family - Daddy, Mommy, Neneng, Tatang and Davy - for being his source of inspiration, pillar of strength and reason of living; and

Above all, the Divine God for the superb wisdom, strength, guidance, grace and love bestowed upon him and his family.

And as the researcher’s favorite novelist Mary Clark Higgins always reminded the readers of a credo written by an ancient monk on the wall: “The book is finished; Let the writer play.”


MICHAEL B. CAHAPAY, M.A.