The Tank

tankFebruary 25…. I was a tank.

With armored skin no bullet can ever pass through, I faced them. Them people I so loved. Them people who so loved me. Them people I so cherished and vowed to protect. Them people who were the reasons for my cold, pathetic and egotistical existence.

Yea, I faced them. But not in the usual way. Instead of facing the battlefield together, with them on my side, I now confront them. One by one.. piece by piece… body by body.. mind by mind… soul by soul… heart by heart.

I can’t dare move myself away from where I lie.

There were just too many things to say and do. Fire that cannonball unto targets that are visible to thine sights. Plan coordinates that would further my own future plans. Device tactics that would probably allow me to escape this brewing revolution unscathed and worry-free.

Like that mythical beast that rose from the ashes. Or a Phoenix. Yea, even Lazarus. I’ll be grateful even if my speckled parts turned out to become just scrap metal.

And in a worst case scenario, when there seems to be no way out, just like the good old days when good old loyal soldiers who were at risk of getting captured by enemy forces had their cyanide capsules hanging by their neck, I shall click that self destruct button that would implode thyself to kingdom come.

The only problem with that option would be the uncontrolled succession of collateral damages.

I was such in peril. Such trouble that I just had no choice but sit still… wait for it to pass and… do nothing. Shame on me now… shame on me. Even beloved Sun Tzu could never help me now.

I don’t dare move myself away from where I stood.

Whatever road I take, I will still end up hurting someone. And that was the last thing I intended to do. My reason for being here is to defend, not hurt, them people.

In the middle of these colliding forces, of left and right, I tried not to settle the score but to balance it. But the time of that blissful eternal peace had been disturbed. The war within had already started.

February 25…. I was a tank.

With metal skin I could really feel the cold. Chilling, numbing cold even rounds of mortars and bullets can never compare. It not only pierces my skin, but my bones as well. As I tremble not with fear but from anxiety, I was faced with my most formidable foe… myself.

And I was losing ground.

The Flight
The Struggle For The Cure

7 Comments

  1. hmmm…. lalim bro… i had to read it twice.. and yet i am not quite sure if i got the right message 😉

    reyapot’s last blog post..ReYaPoT Signing Off

  2. BURAOT (Author)

    reyapot, so what do you think it was? hehheeh.

  3. ni-rerelate ko sa family eh.. confrontation with the family.. then later on, with yourself… you are debating with yourself whether you did the right move… you are confuse… kasi either way, you only have one reason why you are doing it… and either way, there is only one result..

    and either way, you have to deal with it for the sake of that one good reason…

    it is also like choosing between two evils… the only thing to do is to choose the lesser evil…

    pero the fact remains that you don’t have a choice but to deal with it…

    reyapot’s last blog post..ReYaPoT Signing Off

  4. BURAOT (Author)

    heheh. oks. psych major ba kaw? hehehe.

    actually most of my articles here are like that. may personal meaning for me. dinadaan ko lang sa pa ganyan ganyan.

  5. indi.. economics major ko aheehe… pero muntik na ako mag major sa behavioral science (sinagot daw whehehe)…

    actually psych-O ako whehehe…

    hmmmm… inpirasyon ko din sa pagsusulat eh ang mga pinagdadaanan ko (bukod sa matrapik na edsa)..

    tama ka… buti nga may blogging na 🙂

    reyapot’s last blog post..ReYaPoT Signing Off

  6. BURAOT (Author)

    hehhehe. pareho pala tayong psycho.

  7. clementine

    sakit sakit!

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