Am I Really A Criminal?

PROLOGUE

We're just getting started.

This won't end quickly. Malamang, intro pa lang kasi 'to, 'di ba? But if you're expecting this to wrap up neatly, where everything makes sense and every decision falls into place perfectly, you're in for a disappointment. The truth is, nothing in this world ever ends cleanly, especially not the fight I've chosen to be part of. This is just the beginning. What I've done, or what I will do, isn't going to be finished with a few small steps. No, this is only the first chapter of something much bigger.

What I'll do—or maybe I should say what I did—will be worth it. I know this because it's a dream shared by so many of us.

A dream we've buried deep, hidden beneath layers of fear, apathy, and exhaustion. It's a dream of change, of something better than this mess we call our reality.

But despite how many of us hold onto this dream, we never seem to apply it in real life. It sits there, just out of reach, taunting us with what could be if we only had the courage to seize it.

Bakit nga ba hindi natin ito magawa? Bakit nga ba lagi tayong napaparalisa sa harap ng pagkilos? Simple lang ang sagot: dahil sa dalawang tanong na palaging bumabalot sa ating isipan. Dalawang tanong na naghahari sa bawat plano, bawat pagkilos, bawat pangarap na gustong maging totoo.

"Will I be a criminal?"
"Am I really a criminal?"

Those two questions, seemingly so simple, are like chains around our ankles. They hold us back from taking that final step, the one that could push the world off its axis and shift everything in a way that maybe—just maybe—would make things better. They're the questions we whisper to ourselves in the dead of night, when no one else is around to hear our doubts and fears.

I've asked myself those questions more times than I can count. I've turned them over in my head, dissected every possible angle, weighed the consequences. Each time I thought I had an answer, it slipped away, elusive, like smoke drifting out of reach.

I know I'm not alone in this struggle—there are countless others who feel the same. Stuck in a system that demands obedience, that punishes anyone who dares to question the status quo.

And what is the status quo? It's the endless cycle of corrupt politicians, of criminals masquerading as leaders, of hypocrisy so thick you can almost taste it in the air. I don't know about you, but I've had enough of it—pretending that things will magically get better if we just wait it out.

If we keep quiet, follow the rules, and accept the way things are, one day everything will be fine. That's what they want us to believe, right? But you and I both know that's a lie. We've been living with it for so long that some of us have forgotten what it feels like to not be lied to. To hear the truth, plain and simple, without all the manipulation and deceit.

But here's the thing—there's a price for truth. There always is. And the truth I've uncovered, the one that's been hidden in plain sight all this time, comes with a cost so high that it makes you wonder if it's worth it at all.

Because when you know what I know, when you've seen what I've seen, you can't just go back to how things were. You can't unsee the rot that's infected everything. You can't unhear the lies that have been told to your face over and over again. And you can't pretend that you're not complicit if you choose to do nothing.

That's why I'm here. That's why I've made the choices I've made. And no matter what happens, no matter how they try to paint me—as a criminal, a rebel, a traitor—I know what I'm doing is right. Because it's not just about me. It's about all of us.

It's about the people who work hard every day only to see their country fall apart around them.

It's about those who still believe in something better, even when they're surrounded by people who have given up.

I know some of you are probably shaking your heads right now, thinking I'm delusional, or worse, that I'm dangerous. But ask yourselves: What could be more dangerous than this? What's more dangerous than me?

Someone like me, who's willing to stand up and fight for change, or those who sit by and let this broken system continue unchecked?

Will I be labeled a criminal for it? Maybe.

But then again, what is a criminal in a society where the real criminals are the ones in power? If following your conscience, if standing up for what's right makes you a criminal, then maybe it's time we all start asking ourselves whether we're ready to be criminals, too.

There's a reason we're afraid to take that step. Kasi alam nating lahat kung gaano kabigat ang kalalabasan nito. Alam natin na once we cross that line, there's no going back. Once we decide to fight, the entire system will come crashing down on us with everything it's got. They'll label us, drag our names through the mud, and make sure the world knows just how dangerous we are.

But what they have to understand is this: We're not dangerous because we're criminals.

We're dangerous because we see through their lies. We're dangerous because we're no longer willing to play by their rules.

And once you start thinking like that, once you realize that the only way to win is to stop playing their game, that's when you become a threat.

So, let's go back to those two questions:
"Will I be a criminal?"
"Am I really a criminal?"

At this point, does it even matter to ask those questions to yourselves?

The lines have already been drawn. The system has already decided that anyone who challenges it, is a threat. Now, if I have to wear that label, if they want to call me a criminal for trying to expose the truth, then so be it. I'll take it.

Because in the end, what matters isn't what they call me. What matters is what I'm fighting for.

This isn't a fight for myself. I'm fighting for the people who can't.

I'm fighting for the ones who have been silenced, the ones who are too afraid to speak out because they know what the consequences will be.

I'm fighting for the future we deserve, even if we're too scared to admit it.

Again.

We're just getting started.