Okay, it’s another Sunday and I know that I’m supposed to be taking it easy right now and spending some quality time with my family and friends. Unfortunately, after having the misfortune to have read yesterday’s paper and after having read Ms. Ilda’s latest article here, I have no choice but to speak out. To be honest, I was planning to post something frivolous and comical to give our readers at least a little hope and maybe something to laugh about as they go about the troubles of preparing for the up and coming week. However, as you can probably tell by the way I’m typing this article, that sadly won’t be the case.
So yes, this article is addressed directly to our president himself. No, I don’t think he’ll even stop to read it considering the kind of mind he has. More likely than not, he will spend the day in the company of his die-hard supporters who will be busy kissing his butt so that he won’t notice commentaries like this one. Like the spoiled rich kid that he is, he’s not going to notice his less fortunate classmates who are worried about how they will be able to pay for their tuition fees with their already overworked and underpaid parents nor will he pay a second glance to the homeless children forced to eat from the garbage just outside his own school. While he continues to whine about his dead parents, countless fathers and mothers are forced to work in other countries as low-class workers in sometimes even hostile environments thanks to the constitution the Aquinos themselves established in 1986. Yesterday, he had a chance to at least acknowledge the SAF 44 but again, as I expected, he won’t even bother to mention them as he seems to think that his parents are more important than anyone else’s even if his own are nothing more than a pair of charlatans glorified by a biased media.
So okay, here’s my message, if you’re man enough to read it Mr. President.
Much like you, I lost my mother to disease as well. I watched her die. I watched her take her last breath before she left my life forever. And for a while, I acted like you. A lot like you, in fact. Again, much like you, I am very different. You can see it in the way I move to the way I talk. I’m not normal. People say the same things about me as they do about you. Abnormal. Autistic. Insane. Dumb. I have been called all these things and is why, if you bother to notice at all, I don’t call you similar names because I know how unfair it is.
I have also been abandoned by someone who I thought would be my lifetime companion. I thought she was the one, but as is often the case with hopeless romantics like you and me, she wasn’t. Let’s face it, we’re just too different from the norm to be really appreciated by anyone. Your sister can set you up with any pretty beauty queen but you’ll always know in your heart that they’re just there because of your money and your influence as president. Were you anyone else and had little money to spare, even the average woman wouldn’t spare you a second glance.
I too have problems with depression and have been struggling with thoughts of taking my own life for a long time now. Like you, I don’t see much of a point to anything anymore. However, unlike you, I haven’t given up yet. I still think that there is hope for the Filipino people. A hope that you, your family and your friends continue to attempt to crush but can never seem to outright kill. That, my friend, is the will of the people to endure and, most importantly, to progress.
Don’t you see? It’s not poverty or even stupidity that’s stopping the Filipino people to reach their full potential. It’s you. It’s your family. It’s your friends.
Know what, I’m not going to ask you to step down. We’ve said that many more times than you can shake a stick at. Besides it’s 2015, just a few more months away from you having to step down from your high horse.
However, I think you can still save face. I know you don’t want to be forever remembered as the worst president in Philippine history. So please, just listen to the things I have to say.
I know it’s hard. It always is. Maybe all that happened wasn’t your fault. But someone has to take responsibility.
Being president of the Philippines, you are looked up to by many as the father of the country. As a leader, the world doesn’t revolve around you anymore. Instead, it sits on your shoulders. You’re not a child anymore who needs to be taken care of. You’re now seen as the big brother who needs to look after his rowdy younger siblings.
Take note that we all screw up and, from everything that’s happened, that’s exactly what you did. From the debacle regarding the dead Chinese hostages, the Yolanda survivors to the SAF 44, it’s obvious now that these happened under your watch and you have to take responsibility. Maybe you just got careless and irresponsible (I’m guilty of that too actually) but, as our leader, people will look to you for answers and, if not that, an apology.
Listen to me, there’s nothing wrong with simply admitting that you’re a human being and that you make mistakes too…
Stop Playing The Blame Game
Seriously, aren’t you tired? Can’t you think of anything else to say? C’mon man, you can probably do better than that?
I’m not saying that Ferdinand Marcos and Gloria Arroyo are saints, okay. I’m just saying that you should stop using them as shields to cover your own failings.
We all have enemies and some of them can be really nasty as you should know. But they don’t shape our lives and they most certainly don’t shape our decisions. At the end of the day, it’s not our enemies that make us what we are, but what we choose to do about them.
Stop Playing The Victim Card
As I’ve mentioned in the above statements, you should stop hiding behind the death of your parents to justify your incompetence. You’re the leader of this nation and are therefore responsible for everything that’s happened for the past five years. And no you can’t pin it all on the death of your parents; this is all you.
I’ve already said that I too have lost those who’re important to me and, for a while at least, I was a lot like you. But I learned later that I can’t blame others for everything that had happened to me. By choosing to be a victim, I chose to be powerless in the face of adversity and could not make decisions for myself. At the end of the day, I just left my decisions to others which, at the end of the day, only led me to loss and sorrow. When I look back on it now, it’s probably the biggest reason why the woman I loved decided to ditch me for someone else.
So I’m asking you now Mr. President, please bring this madness to an end. Come clean with us and own up. It hurts, I know it does. I’ve done it too. But believe me, it’s the better choice. And the people will see you as a better man.
A confession and an apology may not mean that much anymore in this age of mad science but believe me, for the little people, the poor, the outcast and the victims, it means more than you could ever imagine.
But I know you’re not gonna read any of this or even spare it a glance. You’re going to ignore it just as you ignored the SAF 44 in your speech for the PNP yesterday. No honors for them and not even a word of acknowledgment for their sacrifice. A sacrifice that they made for you and your blasted administration. You keep telling us to “move on” about these men who gave their lives to capture and kill a terrorist mastermind.
Well then, guess what, I’m going to tell you the same thing!
You and your siblings need to “move on” from the death of your parents. You need to stop using their deaths as a scapegoat for abusing your own people. We don’t owe your parents anything. Your parents owe us for supporting them and voting them into power.
I’m not going to make death threats. You probably get that everyday. So here’s what I‘m going to do:
I’m going to “move on” from what you keep insisting as your parent’s blasted legacy. There will be no mention of the EDSA Revolution in my own home and it will be forever remembered as the country’s biggest mistake. I will reserve no special commemoration for September 23 and June 30. In fact, I will make them days of celebration in my household. June 30 will by my new Easter and I will call it the “She’s Dead Day” and September 23 will be my new Christmas which I will call the “He’s Dead Day”. There will be gifts, liquors, sexy women, macho men and games for children on June 30 and September 23 for all my family and friends.
“Worst President Ever”? I think Ms. Ilda’s just being generous.
How can you be a leader when you’re not even a man?
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