We live on borrowed time, every breath a debt to eternity. When it calls due, you don’t plead—you pay. No tears. Then comes this, "But we need you!" Wrong! That’s fear cloaked as purpose. What you need is to slap yourself awake, steel your spine, and rip apart the KLEPTOCRACY—those sanctimonious elites and their grovelling cheerleaders having a tactical alliance now, hiding filth behind fig leaves of piety.

This isn’t about me. It’s about you. It’s about the next generation who’ll inherit what we leave behind. If you don’t rip out this rot—the Philippines they’ll inherit will be a sewer of corruption and drugs, deeper and darker than we had it. I’m not your saviour—I’m just a mirror. A mirror doesn’t plead nor preach; it reflects. You decide what to do with the reflection. If the mighty breaks this glass, they don’t silence it. A mirror that breaks multiply—each shard a new reflection, sharper, unyielding.

So wake up! Or let the next generation pay the price. This isn’t a drama—it’s history’s forge. You’ll hammer out how it’s carved.

Remember what Rizal wrote in El Filibusterismo (The Reign of Greed):

“An immoral government presupposes a demoralized people, a conscienceless administration, greedy and servile citizens in the settled parts, outlaws and brigands in the mountains. Like master, like slave! Like government, like country!”

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