The other night was probably the hardest I've cried in months. I weep for a 14-year old child, whose life has been taken so violently and so hatefully taken from him, from his family. I weep for the likes of him, Reynaldo, and Carl and Kian, whose deaths the state forces have so callously disregarded as "collateral damage" in this myopic and ultimately counter-productive campaign against the poor and the powerless.
Of course, they'd say it's not against the poor. But in truth it's a fight against an imagined enemy at the expense of real, blood-soaked bodies of marginalized Filipinos summarily executed in the slums and dark alleys every night by the people who have the monopoly of "lawful" violence.
I weep for these kids' futures cut so short and so tragically. I weep for the justice that seems to elude this whole country, the disregard for human rights and due process. I weep for the lack of empathy shown by the majority of this regime's supporters. I weep because of anger, of sadness, of confusion–how did we come to this? I weep for the country's–and the world's–future in the hands of these demagogues.
Someday soon, all of us will be faced with harsh truths and bitter realities. I do not doubt it would be violent and soul-crushing, a rude awakening for these times this country has shut its eyes from the monstrosity that grows and devours, day after day after day.
