We got on the bus to go back home at around 6pm, and the TV was on Channel 2, showing Magandang Gabi Bayan with Noli De Castro. Only then did we know all the things that happened in Manila that day. A bomb exploded in an LRT coach killing 9 people. Several bombs exploded in the city at the same time, killing and injuring even more people, including a cop who was trying to defuse one of the bombs.
I fell silent and limp as I watched the news. I saw bloodied and mangled bodies on the floor of the LRT coach. I saw one man whose feet had been torn off being carried away in a stretcher. My knees grew weak when I realized that it could have been me and my girlfriend lying there mangled and dismembered in that LRT coach had we been a couple of hours late. I felt so sad when I thought of all the victims and the friends and family they will be leaving behind. I was really so overcome by emotion that at some point in that ride home I just cried.
And I felt anger too. Extreme anger. And hate. Hatred for all those responsible for this atrocity. Hatred for every single one of them. If I knew who they were, you can give me a gun now and I will NOT hesitate to shoot them down. Death is a fate these people deserve, no less. But I think it's better to let them die after several days of torture. You think I'm wrong? You think I'm no better than them? Well screw you and what you think! You are NOT me. If by doing this sends me to Hell as well, then by God, I do not care. Let me go to Hell, as long as I drag these bastards down there along with me.