I was extremely at fault, and I expected this.

But I didn’t expect this to last longer than a day.

I can’t, won’t make them understand just how many responsibilities I shoulder.

I can’t because it’d all just look like alibis.

I won’t because I know they know just what I do.

Still, I have my imperfections.

I can’t manage myself well, and I thought that they accepted that.

Wrong.

I have an ego the size of my room, and I thought they could live with that, since they often have snide comments.

Wrong again.

I like leadership roles, but this time I took a backseat knowing I’d be busy, and I hoped that they’d understand.

Wrong once more.

I said this was THE reason I took up this program in the first place, but I’m missing out;

The reason is because I do things I was elected for, and was appointed for;

I sincerely prayed they won’t be prejudiced against me.

Wrong.

I don’t hold grudges for long, unless it’s pretty harsh that I really do hold it.

To people I’m generally fine with, it doesn’t last 3 hours.

A day at best.

I anticipated the “comeback” reaction.

I didn’t do a damn thing during the busiest time of my semester, and I hoped it wouldn’t matter much.

I had another thing coming, and I couldn’t just leave it.

I didn’t expect it to run so deep.

To last so long.

To feel so bad, I couldn’t stay.

It took one look.

One look for me to realize that, after this, it’s best to stay away for good.

No.

Actually, one look for me to realize that right now is already a pretty good time to just splinter away.

It’s too painful already.

I know that they’d talk and I know that they’d have a bit of disappointment.

But I don’t see disappointment anywhere.

I don’t even feel remotely welcome anymore.

I just stand, silently, almost like an irrelevant living doll just opening my mouth enough to ask, “What do I do?”

I enter the room and there’s one look of disdain after another;

Swift and fleeting, but they’re deadlier than bullets.

Zero communication.

Zero eye contact.

I don’t even think that the words I used are enough to describe their apparent dislike.

Loathing.

Still not adequate.

It’s suffocating.

I can’t even pluck up the courage to say sorry;

To say just how much I wanted, needed to be there;

To show just how bad I want to sincerely make it up.

I can’t.

I couldn’t.

It’s already past the point where I could unease the tension and just get it over with.

I don’t have any other solution.

I don’t want to go, but I feel I have to.

I don’t want to cut off anything, but I need to.

I was happiest, I think, when I was with them.

They let me be me.

They rubbed off on me, and I accepted their interests with only very little resistance.

I let my guard down, and they saw right through me.

They were, quintessentially, the people I was looking for.

I was desperate and they came.

I needed companionship and they stayed.

I expected nothing, but they gave more than I dreamed of.

Up to when I could no longer imagine if this was to end like the others, so fleeting and so dramatic.

It wasn’t a lot of time, but it was time enough for me to understand that they were true.

I wouldn’t have left them for just any other group.

But it took one mistake;

A series, yes, but still just one.

Within the bounds of what I thought they would completely understand;

It was already a given I would miss out a times.

They know, have personally experienced the mess I got into.

It’s a lot, but not too much.

I don’t know how long this will last;

Right now, I feel too…

…distraught.

Too pained.

Too suffocated.

It’s downright torture, the way that they just silently keep what they want to say;

The way they just stare into the depths of my soul and rot away at a conscience that ought not be guilty but is.

I won’t last longer.

So before I disintegrate;

Before I die of a connection I want to keep but can’t;

Before I fall because they let go first, and only one or two are left who seem to mind if I fall;

I need to say it.

Someday, I will.

I need to.

One word.

Two syllables.

My worst nightmare;

Yet, my only recourse:

Goodbye.

I’m the type of person who tends to keep his friends close. Really close. Not that I’d actually stoop down to a level where I no longer wish them happy lives with other friends of theirs, but to the point where I often don’t hold a limit as to what I do for them, nor mind if they ever give back anything I dole out. I see myself the atypical lonely person, surrounded by people who care for me, and who I care about in return, simply because I chose to integrate myself into a system of likes and dislikes, of friends, frenemies, and enemies; a system I am almost unfamiliar with.

When I do manage to achieve a certain closeness, I tend to treasure that well beyond the normal person. I fear loneliness. Innately, I am a social outcast, and it gives me an overwhelming sense of security to have friends. Close friends. Best friends. A clique. Despite the circumstances through which I met most of them, and beyond the fact that it was horribly awkward at first, I am truly grateful that I have them.

When I’m with these people, it’s not longer a question of how long the time we spend for each other is, but rather what we do during that time. I don’t necessarily mind. We’re together, and if we do something productive, I am extremely grateful (because, often, such productive reasons occur due to my own lack of initiative); when we simply lay back and talk or surf the net, I am quite content (especially since I have managed to integrate their interests into my own subconscious). If they decide something, I go with it. If I do, I’m happy if they oblige, happy if they have an alternative.

When I do decide something, it’s something taken out of the moment. No fuss. I have the means, it’s convenient for me, and there are a couple of them readily accessible and available. Why not spend quality time? It’s not like we’re dating or anything. I don’t intend to usurp a status quo. I know they’re interested in this, and I’m certain they’re up for it. Two of us just had a stressful 4 hours, and I recently got into some resources, and the other one is just down the street. We’re hungry, tired, and craving for a bit of spice in our lives, even for just a paltry few moments. So we pack up and the three of us spend time eating, having a few laughs and some enjoyable moments, spend some time basically sitting on a bench on the second floor of a small yet fairly comfortable mall, then go on our merry way. Obviously there would be tokens from that nice time of de-stressing ourselves. It was a great time, especially for me, having had a wonderful lunch and spent a bit of time with two people I held dear (not that they were the only friends I liked a lot).

So how would I feel to negativity? Not so much a bane as it is a wooden stake right through my chest.

Those tokes (pictures) end up on a social networking site, for obvious reasons (being the teens that we are). It had a witty title fitting of our time, featured the two (TWO) dishes we ate plus the staple, side dishes, and alcohol (there had to be alcohol), and a few images of us smiling having a great time. Below were some very hostile comments, barely sarcastic and almost bitter, and these are coming from the friends I held just as close. The reason? I didn’t bother to invite them.

I know. I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not only was I completely out of points for SMS, the idea was also almost instantaneous. It wasn’t, at all, planned, and I certainly would have wanted them to come if I ever made plans in advance. I had accessed unexpected funds, and wanted to share it with the nearest possible people.

I do not have any less feelings towards the others in the group. I love them all as I would my siblings, equally and without bias. It was a spur of the moment. A feeling. A sudden, uninspired, completely spontaneous idea to go out and have a little bit of time to ourselves. I wasn’t screaming out that I liked them better. I certainly wasn’t implying that they’re more important to me. I simply had an idea; I thought it was great and I needed the pause in my life. They said yes and off we went.

I doubt they know. To feel happy, that you didn’t do wrong and you certainly didn’t, only to be f*cked up the *ss. It comes crashing down. The great, wonderful memory you had of tasty food, nice laughs, and serene time; all down the drain by a few simple words. All implying that you weren’t as accommodating, as thoughtful, as remembering as a friend that you ought to have been. I had a happy time, and I felt elated. Just when things were smiling and I could reminisce 3 hours of my life, I get fingered up my anus by two pairs of middle fingers, a feeling of guilt I shouldn’t have had; guilt a certainly shouldn’t be feeling; a guilt that had nothing to do with crime or evil or dishonor or betrayal; but a guilt of having been happy, and left others out.

I honestly didn’t think if would hurt anybody if I had fun for a few hours with friends. I’m single, so no girlfriend to grill me over for having spent more time with two girls. I’m not highly popular, so I doubt my parents will think I’m getting seriously drunk at noon to three. I didn’t have commitments, nor did I have promises to keep. It shouldn’t have been like that.

The fact that they imply, quite heavily, that I couldn’t give a sh*t about them was very painful. Would I care to react or feel if I didn’t? In fact, how could I not care, after all the time we spent together? INSTANTANEOUS. It wasn’t planned. A feeling. Instinct? I don’t know how to phrase it to make you understand! I just HAPPENED to have the time and resources! It was CONVENIENT that they were there and it was lunchtime! SPUR OF THE F*CKING MOMENT. I DIDN’T THINK. Of COURSE I didn’t. Hungry, in a hurry, and just fresh out of an examination that was survivable but took a good 6 hours away from my sleep! I needed a break! To get away from it all just for a few moments! I had company and they obliged! It’s not that we don’t care about you! NO! We CARE a lot! Enough to plan a second one with you this time (obviously with the exception of the ones who will certainly not enjoy what we did)! We talked about YOU GUYS and IF YOU’D LIKE IT. No. NO. To you, we’re a bunch of, I INSIST on leaving out the others, they have nothing to do with what I invited them to, what I asked them to do with me! To you, I DIDN’T GIVE A DAMN, because it costs too much to call or text since you’re half a world away, when you’re not and it only costs a peso to send you a message! TO  YOU, IT WAS TO SHOW OFF THE TIME WE HAD, because we satisfy ourselves by making you miss the fun, just when we’re thinking if you’d even have fun if you were there! TO YOU, I ONLY CARE ABOUT THE SPUR OF THE MOMENT, because, HEY, my apology is plastic and mechanical, and that we’d rather enjoy these “spur of the moment” ourselves rather than make ammends and take you out sometime!

OH I AM SORRY.

I AM FUCKING SORRY.

I won’t even bother censoring that.

FUCK IT.

Next time, I’ll be sure to invite you to every menial thing I do, just in case I take pictures of it and post it on my profile in hopes that it infuriates you for missing the fun, and for being with two people in our group and we didn’t tell you about it because it was a moment.

It’s not like you ever did that. I was always there anyway. And I’m talking about since June, just to be clear, in case you think I’m talking about the vacation island and the cross-province bus ride. It’s never about that. It’s after that and…

…well. Nevermind. THis post is just to take steam off my fucking head and drink my heart through it. Hopefully my brain forgets this in the morning.

I don’t think I need to point out that I am terribly aware of the ridiculous amount of flaws I have. I attribute my failure to have any stable friendship (much less a relationship), physical and psychological unattractiveness, inability to be socially eccentric, and low self esteem due to the fact that I am painfully aware of the following and have done nothing to correct myself:

• I am lazy.
• I depend on other people.
• I waste my resources.
• I do not pay attention to time.
• I resent memorization.
• I rely on analysis.
• I loathe studying things that disinterest me.
• I am an insufferable know-it-all.
• I think I am always right.
• I am partially close-minded.
• I have authoritarian tendencies.
• I am easily influenced.
• I fall in love too easily with the closest person to me.
• I lose trust too fast.
• I hold grudges.
• I do not exercise.
• I do not have the will to exercise.
• I am practically emotionless.
• I amuse only myself.
• I am paranoid.
• I believe that when I turn my back, I am insulted.
• I am easily offended.
• I show no sign of hatred, when in fact I’d rather kill that very instant.
• I humble myself only to superiors.
• I get too friendly.
• I am touchy.
• I have effeminate movements.
• I delay things until the last possible moment.
• I don’t try to succeed.
• I loathe being uncredited.
• I hate being blamed.
• I put in too little effort, and expect much.
• I go overboard and not notice it.
• I ignore truths when faults arise.
• I sometimes stoop down.
• I barely see a half-full cup. It’s always almost empty.
• I am not thrifty.
• I work hard only when I do not trust.
• I blame others for my misfortune.
• I give credit only to those I see.
• I take for granted many things that I should not.
• I am a hypocrite.
• I self-praise.
• I self-insult for attention.
• I brag being flawed.
• I doubt myself.
• I relax too much.
• I spoil myself.

But you know what, that’s me. I’ve known the fat, eye-glass wearing, vain, authoritarian, nonsociable me for a better part of my 19 years. I don’t need you to tell me what I am. I know that. Do you know how much it pains me to listen to statements and read comments about what I am and do, which have obvious tones and connotations about me not noticing my own actions that lead to my demise? I know what I am, I do not need you to tell me that unless I actually ask for ignorance of my own personality flaws.

People may go too far.

I am who I am. I don’t need someone else to tell me that. To change is up to me. And really, sometimes you need to know that you say too much.

In my sophomore year of college, I was thrust very abruptly into the top position in an academic organization for my bachelor’s degree without any experience, true active participation, or idea on the bureaucracy of the office I was about to hold. I was elected to be the guy with all the papers and pictures. It wasn’t long before, barely days into office, the honcho-elect did not fit any of the minimum requirements for the job, and none of the preceeding officers wanted the position. Next thing I knew, I was suddenly president of a student society.

It didn’t go smoothly. The society was under three umbrella organizations, subject to the dean and the student affairs director at the same time, and was recently just beginning the transition from an incredibly succesful 2-term president. We had no idea who to follow in retrospect, so we followed them all. The pressure was on, and I had to do what the outgoing president told me to do: serve the studentry.

At first, there were a lot more freedoms than I had expected. Funding was secure, thanks largely to the college government, and activities were planned. A few scrupples, a lot of disagreements, and regulations didn’t stop our activities. At least for the first semester. We succeeded in keeping our name on top of both literary-musical contests and sports.

Then, of course, I met two really big hurdles. It was Christmas, and we tried to hold a party. Most of the students went home, since they lived in the provinces. We couldn’t do it with the faculty because they had their own party with the school administration. It was the first time I met problems with money. Totally unbalanced. We had fun, the paltry few who came, but ultimately we were the only ones who did.

Until that time, paperwork wasn’t hard to handle, and frequent visits to the faculty office in search of our department head gave professors quite an impression, and we decided to stage a grandoise plan: invite a really famous (expensive) speaker to talk about a controversial issue. The liberal academics vice president of the university agreed. The bishop, however, refused. Our plans were smack in the middle of preparations phase, meaning we already spent money. Students were already taking it out on us. Our solution: make-your-own-pizza activity. It wasn’t a popular decision, but at least they had fun making and eating their own pizzas.

I realized, at one point, that I can’t give the students everything they wanted from us. Somewhere along the road, there were walls. We could jump over them, and sometimes we just bump straight into it. Either we get the wall to make way, or the wall stays put. And most of the time, the wall stays put. And when the wall stays put, well, let’s just say my fellow officers and I go back to the starting line and put ice on our heads.

That point in time, my organization was under the college government, the university government, and a federation of organizations within the school, and my fellow officers and I noticed something: a. the college government can’t move because they were too restrained; b. the university government was actually fighting for their plans; c. the federation was asserting sovereignty over students the university government is handling. It was a fiasco; power struggle and power restraint was keeping it all together and tearing it apart at the same time.

The promise: speak for the students, because we are the students. The goal: get the university to listen, actually listen, to us. The plan: restore democracy inside the student governments. The director took care of the power struggle; he placed the organizations back to the college governments. So the only thing to do now is to set the college governments free and dominate the university government in order to proceed with a uni-wide revolution of student participation. I ended up doing the one thing I didn’t imagine doing in college, partly because I was already tired with the position I’m handling: I entered politics.

I met amazing people. Never before in my life did I realize that there were more than two pairs of people with the same name. I met someone who I had an immediate crush on (which has, by now, faded), and I had an immense opportunity to mingle with the ruling party, whose efforts in the university government I admired. After the disastrous government during my freshmen year, it was refreshing and uplifting to see them work so hard to gain back student trust. I decided to tag along.

I had a naive vision. It was simple enough as “Keep them active, keep them happy”. Of course referring to the students. Give them what they need, fight for what they want. Student politics was a very new concept to me. Being in a Catholic school, it also meant being Christ-like. Christ-like leadership. It was a dream. Then, during the pre-election seminar for candidates, the speaker, a professor I very much admire for her profound intelligence, said “The world is an atheist, and so is leadership.” That took me off my mark. Didn’t stop trying, though.

Student politics became as dirty as real politics, and even more personal. I remembered in elementary when the worse thing other candidates could ever say was “Vote Wisely”. It was a double entendre. Voting for them is voting wisely; one way of seeing it. You’d be stupid if you vote for the other party; that’s the other way. That’s already the harshest thing you can hear in elementary and high school elections. It rarely gets dirty.

Imagine the sense of disappointment, and subsequent sadness, when I realize that one of the officers I was with in the society was running against me, with a self-styled reason to “teach you a lesson: never be complacent”, along with another officer who, admittedly much wiser than the first guy, was opposing my running mate simply because she broke his heart (or the other way around, I don’t know; I regularly corresponded with him and that’s how I understand it). Until then, no one else was running for the position I ran for, and I had a lot of support from friends (I think so) and faculty (some gave me food). So he ran to teach me never be complacent, when he had no idea I was preparing for the worst possible opposing candidate. The sense of respect I had for him has never been the same.

Politics got very dirty indeed. The emblem team (the one my opponent ran for) was steadily gaining ground, and the fist team hot in pursuit. Red team was not participating that year (at least I think they’re red, I don’t know their official color). Most colleges had only one candidate for the governatorial seat; ours was one of the three who had opposing candidates. There was an independent for the presidency, and revelations about anomalies came out like wildfire, all sides pointing to one another. There was betrayal, mudslinging, the occassional rumors, and internal dissatisfaction. The worst thing you can be called in a real government is “corrupt, murdering, untrustworthy bastard”. The worst thing you were called in this election was identical, minus the muder. I wasn’t spared from the drama. The drama mostly wasn’t even business, it was personal. It was the dirtiest thing I’ve seen.

Election night came, and both teams were actually quite friendly, at least as far as you can see. Admittedly both sides were on even footing; I wasn’t quite sure I’d win. Even then, declaration was heated. I won by 3 points, and my opponent’s running mate won by a landslide; I was waiting for a recount request from the other side, and they didn’t. One of our candidates had lost by a single point, which hurt a lot. The news that the yellow had senate majority was welcome, however one thing came as an expected surprise: the independent won the presidency. Needless to say, he’s doing his best as the currently leader, and so far so good.

It was one of the most eye-opening moments of my life. The city mayor once metioned, and still reiterates that the school I’m in catapulted his career in politics. Now I know how. They said my school was a training ground, practically a virtual simulation of politics and governance out in the real state where anything could happen. They have completely no idea just how accurate they were. Elections proved that.

After elecitons my opponent approached me. We exchanged witter banter like the good friends we were, shared a few laughs, talked about how best to end the semester. My enmity grew when he said “I hope you learned your lesson this year.” Frankly speaking, when he said that, I swear I entered that almost cartoonish phase of imagine for a fraction of a second an extremely complex scenario where I kick his butt. I contented myself with an eye-roll (apparently unseen), and said, “Yeah, I did.” Didn’t say thanks, though.

That said and done, it was official. On June 1, 2011, I was to become the governor of our college.

The outgoing governor was one of the people I looked up to. She was strong-willed, had a deep sense of service, and was totally committed to the studentry, often to the expense of her own health. We rubbed elbows often, and she gave me one piece of advice. “Good luck.” From what I’ve seen her do and couldn’t do (not didn’t, couldn’t; there’s a difference), I knew I needed it.

I chose two male advisers. They were strong. My new vice governor and I chose the rest of the team, alongside two elected officers. We added a law graduate and an very experienced professor from my home department to the roster of advisers; unfortunately the law graduate refused. We set up a dream team, giving back positions to departments with the expertise. All we did then was wait for the new organization heads.

I once promised the outgoing president of the society I’d stay two terms if I could; I never imagined I wouldn’t be able to do that. Of course I asked before I ran for office, but I couldn’t help but feel sad. With no election until after classes start, I couldn’t leave a gap between leaders. I appointed a replacement until the next organizational election. Of course he won.

Our first meeting was a success, at least in terms of the meeting. Our plans were being formed, and we couldn’t wait to give it our all. It was a dream year.

That dream came crashing down from day 0. Literally.

We haven’t even assumed our positions yet when our freedom was limited. In the past, our activities were unrestrained as to the scheduling. Admin didn’t like that so much. They put it all on a single day, and it wasn’t even the whole day; it was from late afternoon, mind you. So the  colleges, not to mention the countless societies and organizations, fraternities, and others had to compete for limited venues on that single day. The dilema for the colleges is that freshmen can’t be touched on weekends; they had a government-mandated course. There it is, then. What it meant for us in my college is that our plans of a 3-day talent event, 2-day general assembly and orientation, and 3-day sportsfest were certainly out fo the question. Whole-day events were also intolerable, although we could start a bit early for so long as a vice president approved. That was a damper.

The overwhelming support from the top began to dwindle, as more and more requirements were piled up under the pretense of “making it easy for you”. How easy it intended to be, I do not know, because it was increasingly more difficult as time passed. Environmental regulations, bureaucracy, immense amount of paperwork, delays, requirements, and practically professional conditions made three things essential to us quite unavailabe: time, money, sleep. Because we had to do a lot of things, we had to sacrifice study time, something we weren’t supposed to sacrifice. Because there was too much to do, funding was often delayed. Because before anything else we were students, we had to erase some sleep just to catch up. Staggering amount of pressure, stress, and tension eventually lead to a lack of enthusiasm. One of us actually preferred to be part of the team in name only, while working for someone else. The reason? “I don’t know what’s going on in there anymore.” Great news, pal. Neither do we.

When support does come, however, it’s only in desparation. We turn to the university government for help only as a last resort. Where the government cannot help, the journalists come in. They have been essential to our survival; without them, the college government under me would have certainly collapsed due to a “government shutdown”. Seriously. At times, our dean would help out personally. But of course, that help comes in only when the need is so extreme, it’s almost a sin not to compell oneself to action.

Way back into my society presidency, I already knew that the only thing that would move students would be grades. Basically I had a very passive studentry at my hands. With all the achievement’s we’ve had this semester, I can’t really complain; except that those achievements were made by the same people. Over and over and over again. I love them, but I wish the others had the same drive.

Our last minute decisions came as mixed blessings. We won some, we lost some, but often at the expense of student opinion. Basically, what we did and did not do upsets them, and often the only thing they do is be passive when we need them, and complain. One even anonymously wrote us three stunningly beautiful essays about how justice is seriously miscarried around us, apparently not aware that he/she complained without realizing that that’s about the only thing he/she did the entire semester to us. It’s be nice for some cooperation, but hey, can’t ask for what they don’t wanna give.

Apparently, no matter how hard you try to please them, the more effort you give, the more hurdles you meet, and the less they understand that you are not the supreme commander. We have bosses, too; we have problems, too. We can’t always get approval; we can’t always solve them immediately.

Also apparently, your neutrality is based on the nonexistence of your friends; if you have friends, you’re being “biased”. What is supposed to be a normal conversation and a few laughs is suddenly preferrential treatment, because they’re also students. Misquotations turn into ridiculous amounts of bad press. Althought the forefront of being a student leader is leadership, your power is still based on popularity despite the lack of friends; you need to please everyone.

Also apparently, you and your entire team are the League of Extraordinary Ladies and Gentlemen. You’re supposed to do everything. You need to meet their demands or pay the price. Unpopularity is relative, but hostility can cost you more than just your position.

Also apparently, you and your entire team need to spend less time with the faculty. Forget about the fact that they were your professors in various subjects. Forget about the fact that where you work is where they work. Forget about the fact that they are no longer your professors and you are now grood friends. Students mostly expect you to be completely neutral at best, and hostile at worst. Very few realize that without their extensive help, often at their own monetary expense, a lot of the things they wanted so much to achieve, especially recognition, would not be possible.

Over the past months, my team and I needed to please our real bosses (the students), and our actual bosses (the administration). Looking at the middle is often disastrous, and insisting much more damaging. Pleasing both sides is difficult, and it leads only to question just how much power as a student leader you actually have. You have none. Nada. Zip. Zero.

Pleasing the students is already hard enough, but you have to do it while conforming to what the adults want. There’s more “you can’t” than “you can” when you talk to them, and when they talk about what you can’t do, they tell you in a way that’s so euphimistic, you know they don’t want to say it out loud for fear of being called dictator. As much as I want to liberate my team from the now-seemingly infinite restrictions and requirements, I can’t. Not if there’s “paper”.

The expectation for transparency also has no equal. They do not realize that we are not professionals, neither do we have any prior experience about anything they asked us to do. We had ideas, but we weren’t trained, neither were we familiar with the protocol. Leeway is appreciated, but apparently not honored. You had to do it or face the consequences.

There’s also personal expectation. Between academics, contests, seminars, activities, events, programs, and responsibilities, you don’t know which way to turn. There’s a lot of expectation on me to excell academically, to be a great leader, to win awards and contests, to organize great events; all of which they think I can do in a blink of an eye. I haven’t had a real weekend in months.

It saps away so much energy. You know it’s worth it. It really is. I love my job. I just hate they way it is. It’s not the job I love anymore. But I need to see it through. I need to finish it.

Today I face so much paperwork, it hurts. It needs to be flawless. My team and I are working endlessly, and the only end in sight is still a dark tunnel.

Admittedly none of my team are not rethinking their decision right now. As much as you want it over with, it’s not. The perception of ease is a figment of imagination. Popularity is nigh; it’s futile and just adds to tension. Activism has died along with dictatorship in the national level; you expect enthusiasm, you get passivity along with enourmous amounts of complaints. You wish to serve your constituents, you need to serve the honchos. It’s not equating to leadership anymore. It’s more of how to keep everyone happy, or at least content, without cracking down. Add that to the scores of “volunteers” who suddenly disappear or realign themselves. As early as right now, election plans are again floating in the air; loyalty is paramount, although tensions are escalating again.

I am a student leader.
I am proud that I am one.
I am still in the service.

As to why I chose to be, I remember why.
As to why I am proud, we have done a great many things.
As to why I still serve, I still want to.

But my reason is slowly being disillusioned.
My pride, easily erased by the passivity of those I serve.
My service, in question as to who I should serve.

I am a student leader.

I am, above that, a student.

I am, more than that, a servant.

I am, greater than anything else,

tired.

God give me strength.