I felt bad about what happened to a child, barely six or seven years old, hit by a stray bullet in the head on New Year's Eve. He was inside the house, in front of the tv, awaiting 2012. He had big dreams, I suppose. And 2012 could have given him his desires. But someoene took it all away.


A lola was watching the skies get painted with firework sparks. She was happy as another year will add to her life. She will watch over her grandchildren grow a year older. A spit of  gun from the dark corner, amid the noise and festivity, shot the poor woman to death.


A teenage boy was killed in a gangt war at the foggy, noisy streets of Manila. He was struck by an empty bottle, brutally wounded, shot dead. The scene was caught through the eyes of the camera lens.  

Just as this is happening, we are counting down, shouting, overflowing with enthusiasm.


And we call it a happy new year.

Those are the headlines that wake you up and make your January 1st.


Now have you still got the optimism?


I do.


No matter.