Michael Alcomendas Grefaldeo

The author, Michael Alcomendas Grefaldeo, was born on April 15, 1987, and graduated from The Lewis College in Sorsogon, Philippines. He took up a Bachelor of Secondary Education major in English. He was one of the main contributors to the literary piece in their campus journalism. He was awarded as an Outstanding Journalist during his college years.

It is important to have a sight from the past, like memories that we truly treasured that live in the mind and heart, but let it also live on as tangible recollections as well. That’s why this manuscript was written in order to share with the readers the importance of our past, which certainly helps us to build and prepare us to take another step. We may not yet reconcile with our previous dealings that keep haunting us, but let’s see the other side of it. Though it is fixed, it is enough to be a motivating force to be a good and strong being. Our past is our guide and teacher in order for us not to take the same road we had taken before.

According to him, a masterpiece comes from the heart, cleverly created with so much intelligence, and it is crafted by emotions and flourished by genuine judgments. Emotions, desire, and intent influence the outcome. But then, hidden just beneath, its true sense of clarity cannot be perceived through the ears, and it is not so flamboyant for you to grasp its real essence.

Verbal communication is not my expertise, for I know that the best way to convey my true self is by way of writing. My tongue tangled and trembled with discomfort, and though I was armed with eagerness, I still failed to let them hear my ideas.

Writing is something I profoundly desire to relieve and lessen my weariness caused by uncharted pain and to direct my excitements through this to fully express the things I have in mind.

For me to express all my sentiments and reactions, I prefer to engrave my thoughts in words that the eyes and heart can see because the eyes can perceive the tangible letters, and it’s the heart that construes what’s behind those printed words. I write compositions and deep within hold my real feelings, for it contains my persona. It describes my personality, and it defines the totality of me.

Certainly, I clothed my works in allegories and metaphors, for that’s the only thing I can preserve myself in—so vague and subtle but not so vulgar. But sometimes that depends on the intensity of the subject that is being described. The way of expressing certain judgments should not be concluded as entirely presumptive but just a prerequisite and a portion of the all-inclusive scheme to completely understand the thoughts.

Contrariwise, candidness and roughness are sometimes helpful, but those loutish lines are quietly clothed sublimely and skillfully handled, not to lose their real connotation, and with the use of moderators that could firmly attend to their meaning to deliver the thoughts in great fancy.

But what’s beneath my work that made them ask for clarity, which, in truth, is understandable to their perception? It is in my great understanding that I vividly adorned my piece with a shallow style of inscription to distinguish and comprehend directly by mere faculty. If their comprehension forbids them to recognize its full potent implication, then naturally they will end up with nothing. And my composition will remain as it is—untouched. And in my own manner of thinking, I compose to express and to be acknowledged, to acknowledge the factual spirit of my masterpiece. I wished someone could decipher what’s laid behind those words and idioms that ornamented my writings. I write every single phrase with my heart because words without heart in them are like flowers without fragrance in spring or like trees without leaves.

I write because I want to leave a remarkable trace on their mind and heart, as in giving them an inspiration to inculcate and motivate themselves to accept the nature of my art, though not so compelling, but truly helpful beyond explanation. And yet, my words don’t seem to rhyme, but the thoughts and passions therein will lead you from the never-ending recesses of metaphors. Within my thoughts, you will feel my heart and emotions; you will see me and grasp stability and fulfillment. Allegories will help you, but don’t be deceived by mere symbols, for the genuine sense lies not in a single word alone.