Dear Katharine

December 03, 20xx

Dec. 03, 20xx
1:14 A.M.

Dear Diary,
                    Mama and I just had a fight, but it wasn't about my Facebook post. It was about me joining the rally a few days ago.
                    “Claire! Is it true? Mareng Karmen told me you joined the rally the other day?” she asked furiously. I wanted to deny it, but there is no point in doing that. Because even if her allegations weren't true, she would still believe the claims of her nosy kumadre more than what her own daughter had to say. So I nodded. And I received the hardest slap I had ever gotten because never had I gotten one before. “Wala kang utang na loob! Didn't you ever think of anyone except for yourself? What exactly do you want to do with you life? Ano, mag-aaktibista ka ba?”
                  I didn't answer her. “Ano? Sumagot ka!” She shouted too loud my ears turned deaf for a second.
                  “Yes, I joined the rally. But it's because I was thinking of Jenna and Kuya Ian not about myself,” I calmly replied.
                  “So sumasagot ka na ngayon! Aba, you don't know how to respect your mother! Is that what activism taught you!” How could anyone win this argument? When I didn't answer her question she was angry because of my silence, but when I answered her she was still angry because I'm disrespecting her by answering her question!
                “I'm just doing what I think is right,” I firmly responded.
                “What did you say, huh? Bastos! Didn't you know how much your father and I went through so that you could have a better life? Can't you be grateful that your lola and I moved here in Manila just to protect you from all the killings happening in our province,” she continued to shout.
                “You know what,” she said this still in fury, but with her voice now controlled. “You are just like your lolo! And if you don't stop what you're doing, you'll end up dead just like him.”
                “I knew it. Lolo never died because naengkanto siya. You lied to me,” I shouted at her.
                “He died because he is so stubborn like you! Always complaining! Always rebelling against people in power! We warned him, your lola and I, we told him to stop going against them. He never listened to us,” she said with her voice rising again. “That is why it is no surprise to the whole bayan when his body was found floating in the river full of gunshot wounds. Do you want to be like him? Huh, do you want to be like your stupid lolo?”
               “What did you do afterwards?”
              “What do you mean what did we do? We buried him and then we moved to Manila,” she bluntly replied.
               “So you didn't do anything? No justice, no nothing! You just ran away! You're a coward!”
               “We did what we had to so we could live—” I cut her off.
               “You did nothing yet I'm the one who you're calling selfish and walang utang na loob!”
               “Why do you think we'll get justice even if we asked for it? The mayor who is the prime suspect still sits in his throne to this day!”
                “That's because you didn't do anything!”
                “If we did something, we'd be dead by now and you would never be alive today!”
                “I never asked to be alive today! I didn't ask you to bring me into this world so that you I could be your slave or your badge of honor or someone who'll take care of you when you grow old,” I snapped at her. Because of what I said, I received the another slap, but more painful this time. Mama was tearing up out of anger, but she began apologizing after she realized what she has just done.
                “I'm so sorry, anak. I didn't mean to hurt you.” But I wasn't listening. I pushed her out of my room instead which caused her to fall on the floor. I didn't help her stand up. I'm too angry to do that.
                I never though I could be filled with so much anger—no, not anger—hate! I never thought I could be filled with so much hate that no art nor anything could take away how I feel. I hate that chismosa neighbor of ours! Why don't she just mind her own business and let me live my life? I'm literally ranted about her on Twitter hoping she'll get cancelled! But I had to delete that tweet I made about her because I remember her daughter is following me and I don't want more trouble.
                 I hate Mama! I can't wait to move out of this place when I'm eighteen except that is not how we do here in the Philippines. We have to wait 'til we're married to move out of our parents' place. I hate the Philippines for having this wretched system! I hate Filipinos for being so stupid and keep on electing crooked politicians! I hate everyone! I  hope everyone will burn in hell!
                 I even hate myself for existing. Why God? Why do we live in this kind of world? Why did You create that stupid forbidden tree and that serpent? Why did You allow Adam and Eve to eat its fruit if You are really that all-knowing and You could have stopped them from doing so? And if You are really all-powerful, why did You create the whole world from the very beginning if You knew all along You'd punish us and make us suffer? Is it so You can be the hero in the end? So that we'd praise You from saving us from ourselves when in the first place, You have the power to stop us from sinning? If You are really merciful, You should have never made us at all!
               Oh God, it thundered just now. Now I'm quite afraid because I  remembered that God strikes down people who speaks evil of His name. I fear that God will strike me down, which is weird because just a while ago I was cursing my existence, but now I'm afraid that I won't exist anymore. God, please don't take me away.
            Oh, I'm not dead yet. Thank God!
            Maybe God only strikes people by lightning when they speak blasphemous things against Him. Because technically speaking, I wrote them, I didn't speak them. Oh, that must be why Nietzsche was never struck down when he wrote God is dead because he must have  never said that out loud too.  So am I allowed to write evil of God?
               Anyway,  I just wish the end is near so we could all rest. But San Pedro will certainly hinder me from entering heaven because I hate everyone and because I questioned God's decisions.      
              I guess I'll cry myself to sleep again tonight because I'm on my way to hell.
              Good night.