A democracy works when people actually respect each other's opinions and choices in politics. During an election in an ideal world, the majority vote overrule the minority and everyone gets along until the people get another sort of election to choose who they want to represent their views. Or, generally, that's how it should work. But as is always the case, what should be and what is are very rarely the same.

     Often times, a democratic election turns into a popularity contest, not unlike American Idol in its hey-day, but rather than an actual vote regarding views and competence. And people will hurl venom at each other online over their preferred contestants. And that is exactly what is happening here in the Philippines. This is probably a side effect of the whole feudal system we've had since the 1600s, and is perpetuated in the modern semi-feudal democratic state, where your representatives aren't regular people but from the same ruling families from decades ago!

     Over the course of the four years since I finished university, I have either mentioned it myself or someone else has mentioned that I miss university, or college, or high school. Perhaps, after the grand goal of graduating and escaping that rut of education, we find out that real life is not as glamorous as the movies and television shows make it seem.

     My friends know of my fascination with painting miniatures. It is a hobby that I not-so-recently picked up, mostly as a way of learning new things while having fun with one of my favourite franchises. I started out with Games Workshop's Warhammer, and have slowly branched out to Warhammer 40,000 and other games and collections. Over the course of learning techniques and skills in painting, I am also faced with this undying problem of shaking my paints.

    I came across an old fountain pen while searching through my father's table. I was in need of a pen to sign something really quickly, and his was the closest table to me in terms of displacement, as my own table and pens are up on the second floor.

    This old pen was a Parker Jotter, and according to the story I was given, it was a promotional item given at an old conference he attended to many years ago, hence the old faded printed BASF on the side. He gave up using it after the free cartridge ran out, as he did not have time to find out where to find the ink could be bought. Considering that I inherited my father's pragmatic nature, I understood what he meant: if it takes too much time to find, it can always be replaced.

    It would be safe to assume that almost everyone on the face of the planet has had at least one sort of non-lazy activity that they've done. Something that does not involve sitting around in the house, eating chips or Nutella or watching television all day. It would have to be something that involves other people, an activity or something of the kind.

    Perhaps it was a sports game, where the crowds were riveted to their benches trying to figure out which player on which team would have the chance to break the deadlock. Or perhaps it is you taking the time out to take a walk through the park. Or maybe it is as simple as clearing out some of your old junk gathering in the corner of your room, out of sight and out of mind.

    You'd actually be surprised at how much intelligence and common sense grow further and further apart in the supposedly most-educated era of human history. People educate themselves, and knowledge progresses at such an astounding rate. Most people you meet in the street today have had far more schooling than many great men in history, and yet, despite the rising levels of intellect, you also find a disturbing and glaring lack of common sense.

    Let's suppose a book was written by some middle-class continental European citizen around two hundred years ago. This book contained certain ideas that were so drastic that some considered it scandalous enough to radically change society in one way or entirely. A few years pass, and the book has inspired a whole movement of people who read to subscribing to the ideas presented in the book and have managed to gain some considerable political power.

    I'm not entirely sure how long I have been waiting for the release of the post-L.A.E. interviews schedule. See, the thing about waiting for something this important is that it kills you slowly and steadily. Like the creeping fingers of cold in the first days of winter, or its slow-leaving lingering wake. How long do I have to wait, and will I be accepted in or do I have to accept denial again with dignity and maintain composure?