The warmth suddenly disappeared.
She was concerned because she thought he wasn’t okay.
But instead of being grateful, he snapped at her.

He told her he’d call back and to wait.
And so she waited.
But he never did.

She cried herself to sleep.
It hurt but she tried to understand.
While he remained oblivious.

She tried to explain.
But he didn’t comprehend.
He remained cold because it didn’t matter.

She asked for an apology.
She wanted to work things out.
He ignored her.

What happened to him?
Who was this guy?
Once a man but became a boy somehow.

She wanted to scream.
She wanted to kick some sense into him.
But she held back because she still cared.

She wanted that fateful day to come.
She wanted it so bad.
She wanted to be free.

She still waits.
Her faith in him is starting to diminish.
But he remains motionless.

There once was a little girl with match sticks.
She loved to light them up.
She was fascinated with the light that came out of the fire.
And the warmth that emanated from it.

She first started to watch the fire burn the match stick.
And at one time, she burned her finger.
It stung and she cried.
Then her mother put on toothpaste and the pain went away.

Her mother told her to be careful with fire.
Because fire was never to be toyed with.
It can radiate such beauty, but when you get too close, it can burn you.
The little girl nodded and understood.

But you see, the girl was stubborn.
She still wanted to play with fire.
So she found pieces in the house to light it with.
Anything that burned was beautiful.

One evening on a cold night, while playing, her dress caught fire.
Her mother ran to her aid and doused the flames with water.
This time it didn’t sting and instead, it hurt more.
Her entire right arm was burnt and she couldn’t stop crying.

As time passed, she avoided fire like the plague.
It didn’t hurt as much anymore.
The wounds healed and left scars.
They looked repulsive so she always had to cover them up.

But her enchantment with fire never went away.
And so little by little, she started playing with matches again.
She thought it harmless since they were just little flames.
But as times passed, those flames grew again.

Her mother begged her to stop.
She kept all the matches away from the little girl.
But the little girl was clever.
She hid match boxes in many secret places.

She knew that playing with fire is dangerous.
But she silenced the warnings in her head.
She was older now she thought.
She knew better.

She thought she could control the fire.
Like a drug addict, she lit one match after the other.
Entranced by the flame she failed to notice that there was a can of kerosene on the top shelf.
And it fell on her.

She screamed and screamed.
She rolled on the ground trying to put the flames out.
But it was of no use because the fire was too strong.
She burned until nothing was left but ashes.

I’ve been dying to go out of town for quite some time now. The city can be suffocating sometimes and I need nature to breathe. I feel so confined in a small place although I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.

My life has been relatively quiet. I have a steady pattern of going to work and going out once in a while. I’ve just been craving for something else. It doesn’t have to be a big trip, but just something to break this monotonous living.

I always turn on the television when I wake up and on weekdays before going to work, the channel is always on BBC World. It’s my little window to remind me that the world I live in is much larger than what goes on in my day-to-day life. It provides me with a reality check every time. It’s terrible, but it gives me a sick sense of comfort to know that I’m better off than many.

Like many people, I’ve got a 9 to 6 job. I go out with Carlos and my friends to movies and gigs. I attend some benefits and give a little to charity. It’s a pretty steady, seemingly guilt free life and I have no complaints about it. I mind my own business and I’m tired of the drama that used to plague my past years. I don’t like conflict and so I’ve created a small comfort zone.

Millions are probably experiencing the same privileges that I have, but unfortunately there are millions who aren’t. So many people live in poverty, prejudice, war stricken homelands, and suffer various diseases. Sometimes I feel guilty that I think I am powerless to help and instigate change, but this is exactly the type of mentality that tolerates and sometimes propagates these terrible realities. Like many of us, we merely turn off the television.

I’ve always admired individuals who have revolutionized civilizations and empowered people. I admire Mahatma Gandhi, Ninoy Aquino, the Dalai Lama, Pope John Paul II, Mother Teresa, Friedrich Nietzsche, Paulo Coelho, Oprah, Bono and so many other heroes. They’ve actually made their passions and ideas a reality. It takes a lot of guts to voice out and put actions to what you believe in to help other people. Not a lot of us have that because it’s easier to give money to the beggar down the street rather than give him a job and a home to live in.

I’m not saying that we need to do something that is big or astounding. Like the people that I’ve mentioned whom I consider heroes, they’ve used their chosen professions to make change a reality and alleviate the terrible things that people are afflicted with. No matter how mediocre our jobs and statuses seem to be, we can always do something profoundly good to help people. It’s only a matter of knowing that we can in fact do something that may seemingly be small, but taken together, may actually eliminate these terrible realities.