I have this icky indelible ink sunk in my nail that gnaws at me.
Yep, I exercised my right to suffrage.
Despite the anticipated (and welcomed?) electoral fraud and violence.
Despite the hopeless situation we're mucked in.
Well, I still have hopes for good governance.
I believe that we have to stick it out for our country by not being passive or indifferent. Where is nationalism in our veins?
A call to Filipinos! (Here we could insert plackards calling for attention. Weehee.)
If only integrity and morality can be poured onto politics like indelible ink. That would be the time.
This is to remind me of my naivete:
There is no nightlife on Indelible Ink Day.
My sis traced back our roots by interviewing our parents for a project on family tree. I was in awe when we found out that my paternal great-great-grandmother lived till my father was 6 or 7 years old. (My father was born on 1947.) She died at the age of 110.
If my calculations are right, Lola Dorothea was even older by Jose Rizal for approximately 10 years! She lived to experience the whole colonial times! The days of Rizal, Bonifacio, Aguinaldo... There was no Philippine flag or anthem yet. Perhaps she may have passed by Cavite for the inauguration since Batangas is just a few blocks away. (Yeah, right.)
My imagination could have gone on and on. I wished she had lived to tell me of those times. Those times that are now embedded in our history books. Wow.