Kids CAN'T tell (LGBT and the media)

With the recent legalization of what were then tagged as taboos, I couldn’t help but look at freedom again as a puppet of chaos alluring and inviting in bright and blinding colors. Everyone has something to say and even kids are brought and/or dragged to events that are unruly and complicated in nature. (Sigh)

God and the bible are already involved so you can say that things are getting pretty serious. It’s summer-hot out there the word “burn” has never been as battered as it is right now.

I adhere to one idea on my part: not everything can be permitted in this world. We can but we’re only inviting speedy obliteration in general. I have this pesky feeling that the world is surely nearing its finish line; I’ve been shaking it off and I think I succeeded in the sense of getting rid of that feeling. From just a feeling it has now evolved into a theory, I hope it stops right here.

I have nothing against people coming out and displaying affection on public but I am bothered by the thought of children audiences who have not developed a good sense of understanding yet. Give them time to learn things. If delicate things are to be accepted, let them (kids) learn the basics first. They need a strong foundation of knowledge, experiences and understanding for them to take it all in.

Please, do not ask them to stand for something they do not fully understand. Do not take them out on the streets to wave flags. If they want to, let them when they’re old enough. Kids can’t tell which is which yet. Kids can’t tell. Yet. Spare them.

Let us not rush things, women waited for a number of years before they were granted privileges and until now they’re still proving their worth.

With the social media being more powerful than ever, everything exposed to the public is on a certain degree a “promotion” to the naïve minds.  I hope that the people behind giant TV networks will care more for the kids than money because it was possible back then. Let kids talk about “kids’ stuff” and let adults have their own thing to chat about.

Promote patience and perseverance. Promote values on top of everything else. 

Hang on, tears

Picked my flats off to brave the gusty dawn

It’s a gift in this road I’m the only spawn

Hurry feet, look, the dam is almost full

In a snap I would look like a total fool

In a daze and I am almost desperate

From my heart please let me separate

My tears and my footsteps are in a race

I won’t tell you the story through my face

Hold on tears, I will just unlock the door

Once inside, you may fall on the floor

Will you be kind enough just to hide with me?

I was hoping that is how it is gonna be

I’ll dress up and you may stop falling all at once

I gave in, and you just had your one chance

I will summon thee once things start to fall apart

Right now, you and I must start to depart. 

I don't like my body.

No, I don’t like my body.

I’m fat. Others (try to) take pride in this, I don’t. I could’ve done better than abusing my body and neglecting it out of glutton and laziness. I’m not shoving this on the faces of those who are just like me. This is just how I feel. There’s nothing to be proud about a body that limits me in so many facets.

No, I’m not into body shaming. However, I strongly believe in the power of true words. I can no longer tie my shoe laces nor clean my toes without feeling like I just did something so arduous. In the past, I could walk at a great distance but now doing so takes so much energy. I’m tied to my bed because moving so much is way too uncomfortable.

I don’t want to get used to this just so I would try to embrace a new bod. I would never embrace a body that kills my potential to its tiniest. I tried to jog for at least an hour sometime this past May but it only lasted for 5 pathetic days. Something happened that took my mornings and since I work from the afternoon and reach home shortly before midnight, I was left dead tired through the day.

I missed jogging. It took me loads of efforts to get up that particular week. My mornings were torn between getting up and staying in heaven once I hear the alarm ring. For a month, I stayed in my heavenly bed and hoped that my dream would stay awake the next day, but it didn’t until one crazy morning. I just got up, washed up, put my sporty clothing on and went off.

It was hard at first, hell; walking alone is already wearing me out. I had labored breathing and I felt like passing out.  I decided it’s best if I start on a slower pace. I expected I’d be exhausted when I reported to the office the same afternoon but what happened was just the exact opposite. That has been my most energetic day in three years! The succeeding days were a breeze. It made me feel alive once again.

It’s been months and I’m a bigger snowball now. Winter just doesn’t stop and I’m lifeless as always. I don’t like my body. I’m going to say it repeatedly because this is a problem and I need to acknowledge it. It’s just like an attitude, you don’t go bragging about how imperfect you are just because you feel that it’s who you are. That’s not what you are. That’s a part of you. No. That’s “THE” part of you that needs improving so don’t get so butt hurt when you hear unpleasant remarks. Alright, you cannot control how you feel so what you can do is not to take it against them. Focus on yourself. Focus.

I cannot buy new clothes because I’m waiting for the time when I’m happiest with my body. This way, I can use those clothes longer and I will have better options. I want to tell you more about the things I can no longer do but this is already turning into a novel so I have to make a conclusion now. Lol.

“We work out not because we hate our bodies; we work out because we love them” – this is the “mantra” of the zumba class I loved watching when I was jogging. It makes so much sense if you think about it. Self love is not always about acceptance. Self love must be tough love if you want to get better.

(A letter for my lazy self) 

Hiling

Sometime in the past decade, I have watched a 1998 Family fanteserye piece by Star Cinema. (I watched it years after it first graced the silver screen) This movie’s title is “Hiling.” (Wish) It touched the stagnant river in my mind and until now the water remains moving, very subtle but yes, moving.

The story is oddly simple but startlingly deep and loaded. It’s about a girl named “Ana” played by the then-so-adorable Camille Prats. She is an ordinary kid with an extraordinary height of sensitivity.  The young girl witnessed as her parents fought regularly. It made her so blue she started to ponder about happiness and human desire.

Her feelings were fuelled by what she saw in their busy streets too. (1990’s: Times when children frequented the streets during daylight and not past midnight) There seemed to be a plague infecting everyone in the community. Everybody cried for something and the girl took it that they, too, were just as miserable as her parents were.

In the depths of her heart a silent wish welled up. She hoped that everyone would have what they want to achieve happiness. On her birthday, she met a stranger who granted this wish. All she had to do was make them say their wishes as she touched them with her palm. Then voila, wish granted.

Ana's grandmother defending Ana from the the blames she was taking

Ana listens to Arnhell's( Ogie Diaz) wish to become a woman

Elwood (Paolo Contis) is troubled with women who hunted him day and night

Things completely transformed from then on. She was like a genie filling up the empty holes in her neighbours lives, or at least she thought before the neighborhood went both crazy and chaotic.

She soon discovered that giving people what they want doesn’t always make them happy. We all have that thinking don’t we? The world is too big a place yet it can never fill the endless desires of its inhabitants. I am confident that even if it can suffice, it will never guarantee us happiness. We are all conditioned to think that what we want is what will make us happy. But if you’ve lived long enough to receive so much from this world, you’d understand why it wouldn’t. At times, what we want can be deceiving and dangerous even if it seemed so good.

That is the first lesson I learned from the story. The second one is the most important for me, personally. It’s the part when the stranger, Gina Pareño told Ana this:

“Malaki kasi ang puso mo kaya madali kang masaktan.” (You have a big heart so you easily get hurt)

 

I think I am like that in a way. I am sensitive and the littlest of things worry me so it’s hard to be happy sometimes. I keep a nonchalant temperament to show that I am brave but every time I see homeless people ,I feel  terrible and I can’t help but feel so blessed; If I feel that my loved ones are in pain, my heart feels so heavy and more often than not it leaves me feeling so stressed out.

I am aching to see people happy, too; If only things are not that complicated.

Perhaps, we cannot be happy all the time. It’s impossible and it shouldn’t be. Life would lose its meaning. We will never grow and we will never come up with solutions to our problems. Being happy all the time is not being happy at all if you’d think about it.

We need failures, disappointments and rejection so our happiness will be at its sweetest. We need absence so we can appreciate presence. We need to stumble so we would learn to brave the road ahead.

We cannot be happy all the time. We cannot turn things around even if we try hard. We cannot always make people happy even if we mean well. Getting what we want doesn't promise a happy heart but understanding "why" will at least leave us less troubled.

I think if we are to keep this in mind, we can look at the dark times as if it’s just the dawn giving birth to the sunrise. This way, life may appear more flawed than ever but it gets a little more exciting and interesting.

Gone

The night has been so wrong

It felt so right for one good song

And as the melody played on

I think of happy days long gone

What was it like, under the light?

If there we stayed, is it alright?

Nobody said a word that night

We all just faded out of sight

Sealed in silence, wired in prayers

We made a vow never to part ways

I used to cling tightly to “Always”

But now it stops after the long chase

One step forward creates the past

Plain and simple, nothing lasts
when moments pass, they turn to dust 

at times I pray the longing stops

A letter of apology

To my future baby, I am writing to tell you I’m sorry.

I didn’t want to have you. 

Well I did, but just a few days ago, I was tuned in on this documentary and something hit me really hard. It got me feeling scared. I was so scared honey, I wondered if bringing you into this world would be a good idea, because right that very moment, I was convinced it’s absolutely not.

What kind of soul do I have for not wanting an angel from God? A lost soul, maybe? Because that’s the kind I have right now. I have dreamt of you even when I was little. I am just terrified that the world you’ll see is only a thin, cold, stale slice of bread when it used to be big, plenty and warm.

You see, your mama is very much into documentaries. It’s like a magnifying glass that allows you to see things on closer inspection. What’s funny is, I didn’t even appreciate social studies back in my schooling years. Somehow, it wedged a place in my heart and has crept on me as I grew older. I have seen things I can’t unsee no matter how I try; parts of the history teachings I didn’t pay attention to until that period repeated itself in front of my indisposed eyes. 

Week after week, wars breaking out here and there flooded the news. Effects of the stubborn global warming are no longer irregular items to the ears and eyes of the public. To some, these serve as warnings, to most: plain news and possible topic of gossip. Believe me, honey, I tried to act on it, I just didn’t have the guts to stand up for it. Mama is not proud of this; I hope you will forgive me for what I didn’t do…

 (Photos taken in Syria, these things are happening as I write)

It was so far away, but mama can hear some gunshots sometimes. I can see the trembling kids run feebly through the rubbles on hard times. I can taste the bitterness of salty tears pouring down the hollow cheeks of people who refused to be part of this one, big annihilation scheme. I can feel the fear buried deep inside the hearts of reluctant men forced to slay whoever poses as threats to their lives. I do honey, but sadly I am just an audience, all sorts of feelings I get when I think is nothing compared to what the people in the actual game feel. Things I will die for just for you to be spared from experiencing, let alone feeling.

I have seen you also, during those bright days when I become unreachable to the world. I have seen you so tiny and soft, pink and fragile, a part of myself, and a part of someone I deeply love. I can see joy in your father’s eyes as you tug his sleeve with your little scrawny hand.  I have seen you turn things around; I have seen you change the world for me, for us.

If only I can change the world for you, too. But, I can’t, I can’t do it alone.

You see mama wanted to make a change, I have tried to help the world age, for you to still see the things my eyes have laid on, for you to still experience what nature has been generously giving, for you to enjoy life being plain and simple as it was. But I’m afraid, no –terrified, that if you’re reading this it’s already too late.

A 33° c temperature ten years ago is different from the same 33° c temperature nowadays. I don’t have technical knowledge about these things but I know the feeling of basking under the sun when I was little. I remember dreading your grandmother’s scolding when I stay out while the sun is up and proud. Now I fear going out and it’s the kind of fear that doesn’t include your grandmother’s rage anymore. It’s because the heat is simply unbearable.

And how can I tell you this honey, I don’t know how without guilt crawling under my skin... We took the world and lived in it as if everything is at our disposal. We have thought about you, too. But maybe we’re not wise or caring enough to think while we devour everything we thought is everlasting. 

According to the documentary, if nothing changes with the way we consume things; by 2025 our supply of potable water is already a major problem, at least here in the Philippines. What year is it now? This crisis has already tried Sao Paolo, Brazil earlier this first quarter - A land known for its abundance of natural riches. Listen, Mama used to hear that our country was just as gifted when it comes to natural sources, too. I don’t see much of them now, I feel no scarcity but I haven’t heard the word “lavishness” of anything natural and valuable for quite a while now. I wonder what it’s like in your time.

Are there still strong trees to climb on? Or can you breathe clean air? (I can’t use fresh anymore; it’s a luxury right now) Will you be able to enjoy the beach on summer? Will you be able to see a cloudy sky? Will you thank Mama for bringing you out? Will you be able to survive... 

If you are reading this, you are probably surviving, and I hope, you are well and healthy. I hope things have changed, for the better and I hope it won’t stop turning for what’s good. 

I am sorry, sincerely, for not thinking about you or the Earth –our only home in this vast, intimidating universe. I am sorry if I have thought of not having you at all. I want you, I love you and I think some people will, too. I will bring you out in this world as a gift to mankind; I will bring you to tell everyone I have hope that we can still do something out of selfishness. I want you, and I know that you’ll be wiser and stronger. I will bring you here, because you deserve this life as much as we all do. 

I will have you, because I love you.

And to the future kids: We’re sorry, I hope that you’ll find it in your heart - the forgiveness we didn’t deserved so much to have. We have faith in you, saving our home takes more than just a generation, but efforts count big. We have tried and we still try, if others will not, it doesn’t mean that you should not.

In your journey, don’t forget the future ones too. You wouldn’t want to write a letter like this.
 

Trust me; it WILL get worse if you won’t listen. You might not have anyone to send letters to if we don’t act while we can.

S.O.S

Leave me anywhere but with my own thoughts.

I fear those most of all the scorning ghosts.

Let me part with myself, away from my own hosts

I’d rather them dance in smoke, far off the coast

Leave me not; I can’t swim past my own fears,

Say goodnight, Let your voice rule my dreams,

Tell me stories of footsteps lost in streams,

Or of that night you let me shed your tears.

Books and friends - heroes of the daylight,

Music has built me a wall so I’m alright

I need a soul next to me in this long flight

May my thoughts abandon my bed tonight

The escape is sweet in the dawn’s mist

And the thoughts are locked in my own lips

My tongue, sometimes tastes of abyss

Let me taste at least a droplet of bliss

Haunting, as the day fades into evening

My thoughts are here, big and taunting

My mind is in desperate need of clearing

I want to reach what’s next to nothing.