Finding Telos

Hop in my little voyager,

I will show you the ways of the water.

Let us paddle,

the glimmering sea seems a crystal pond of wonder.

Look under the boat.

A vast life spectacle in there, you will see.

Ignore the sirens calling.

Keep your paddles, heed my warning.

The wind is your friend,

listen to it and let your sail set free.

Never forget.

For my shell and limbs hold only wisdom, not strength.

I can see the shore,

the meaning of life, your long-lost treasure.

We have arrived, my little voyager.

Though it has not ended, there’s more to find beyond here.

This poem was born from late nights, quiet doubts, and a stubborn kind of hope.
It became my official entry for the Poetry Writing event—and somehow, it found its way to 2nd place.

21st REGION V
RTSPC 2025
La Piazza Hotel & Convention Center, Legazpi City
January 17-19, 2024

    I didn’t walk into this journey alone.

    There were people who held me up when I couldn’t even trust my own footing—mentors who steadied me, friends who cheered me on, and family who never let me forget my worth. This story carries all of them with me.

    Gratitude for the people who believed in me when I could not even look at myself without doubt. For the MC Administration who opened the door to this opportunity. For Ma’am Faina, Sir Von, and Sir Ma-ang, whose guidance steadied me. For Ate Ekie’s last-minute tips and Ma’am Arlyn’s tireless eyes scanning my articles even on competition day. For Ma’am Maria Teresa, Ma’am Fe, and Ma’am Kem, who reminded me—again and again—that I was capable, even when I felt otherwise. For my parents, Mama Janette, Papa Jerry, Mommy Nonielyn, my friends (especially my bbs Jolina, Patricia, Berlyn, Kimberly), and my CESC and Sublime Torch family. This story is for all of them.

    Because the truth is, juggling my life as a student, governor, student assistant, and campus journalist was never easy. When people asked how I managed, I often didn’t know what to say. Some days, I wasn’t even sure I was managing. I survived by taking things one task at a time, breathing through the chaos, and hoping the next step would reveal itself.

    Training for the regionals was rough. My “sapi”—that sudden rush of inspiration—was unpredictable. Words didn’t flow as easily as before, and when they did, I clung to them, writing as much as I could before the moment slipped away.

The night before we left for Legazpi, I cried everything out—pressure, fear, self-doubt. I told myself that when I got there, I would just enjoy it. This was my first and last RTSPC. Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be. I repeated it like a prayer on the bus ride.

    When the competition began, I was calm. News writing, poetry, opinion writing—three events in two days. I almost missed the news deadline because I rewrote too slowly, but I learned my lesson and adjusted. The last two events went smoothly; I even finished my opinion piece in thirty minutes, inspired by a local issue close to my heart [the 299 ring]. Walking back to our room, I was smiling. I had given my all. The rest was up to God.

    The days blurred. There was even a hilarious detour into practicing for RTSPC Got Talent—unforgettable is an understatement, periodt.

    Then came announcement day. News writing was called first—no win there. Opinion writing came next: 10th place. I was happy. I wouldn’t go home empty-handed. I could face Mabini with my head held high. I settled into my seat, content.

    And then they announced the poetry winners. I wasn’t even paying much attention—poetry wasn’t where I felt most confident. But then: 2nd place. For a moment, I couldn’t believe it. I turned to Ma’am Faina and whispered, “Ma’am, legit?” She laughed. I tried not to cry. Because for me, this was more than a medal. This was a win my team needed. A win I needed.

    Before I take on the next challenges, I want to hold on to this moment. To remember that stumbling and failing are part of the journey, but so is celebrating the small victories. This is my reminder to myself—and to you, dear reader—that sometimes, the win is not just in the prize, but in proving to yourself that you could.

Next stop: Luzon-Wide Higher Education Press Conference.