when i was seven, br every night my mother br bound me in front of br our old lawaan table br that my grandfather br made for me br so i can savor br the taste of education br i felt bitter, i hate my mother br when she hit me and br whenever i showed my instability, br my inclination got me br into meer drawings and sketchings br of dolls and houses br i wish to built but failed br in my frailty, my fondness br brought me the other way. br i know i have lapses, i never br read books and listen br to mother seriously. but i have br the passion, i made my action br fixed in Achilles heel.