the problem of over-intellectualization

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Don’t be afraid to turn back…

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Me Too

You are a pariah. You are contemptible. You are outside the circle of the grace. You have missed the elegance of being bless. These words are too often thrown around. Society is telling us who deserves second chances, who is worthy of the kind of love we all crave. When you hear these things enough, they become your inner monologue: “I will always be on the outside looking in.” Like how Estelle longs for a mirror and found it in Inez’s eyes. And which Nietzsche loathe of by proclaiming that “it is too difficult to live with people because it is too difficult to be silent.” But who are we in that crowd with the bleeding woman? Are we the people ushering the crowd away, never looking down at those who might distract us from our blessings? Or are we the woman, desperately trying to cling to any sort of hope that one day it will get better? We are both. We are all of them, at some point in our lives, and we are always striving to be the one in the midst of it all: the written religious history told us that Jesus was surrounded by many, yet was drawn to the one who had been invisible for years. And the Catholics romanticized this, telling we catch glimpses of this around us: a teenager defending a classmate who others have shunned, a farmer who tirelessly sowing seeds in a dried field, and in the image of a poet of an unrequited love. Thus, there are times that we are convinced in the Christian teaching that we should live Jesus in our hearts. But, be it a Christian, a Muslim or even a Zarathustra’s way, all of these can be sum up into one idea—we all want belongingness. Rarely, we can feel this even if Facebook, Twitter and other social networking sites exist. Appreciation is just a bonus. It is beautiful scenery when someone is taking time to sit and hear the story of a homeless person. And it is a wonderful experience when there is a person brave enough to say the words we so often ache to hear: me too…

 

 

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For the one who is chasing…

In the Sunset they made Love

Once upon a time, there was the Sun, the Sea, and the Sand self-sufficiently shaping their existence around the ball of life. The Sea on her way trying to wrap all the good things around the globe met the forever passive Sand. The Sea touched the Sand but to her surprise the latter did not respond accordingly like the others. It amused the Sea; the non-response of the Sand made her more eager to touch the Sand repetitively, incautiously, and continuously. The Sea caressed the Sand sweetly and sincerely as she could. And due to the increasing current the Sea is producing the Sand became so vulnerable and allowed the former to flow all over him. The Sea thought her actions were effective but it’s not. The Sand’s reaction is just a manifestation of his passiveness—letting anyone to touch and drag him anywhere for he has no will to resist or even to submit himself to others. Eventually, the Sea realized how naive it is of her to believe that she can get hold of the Sand. The Sea cried in pain and frustration.

All this time, the Sun witnessed the struggles and unrequited affection the Sea is giving towards the Sand. But the Sun is too distant from the Sea, he could not understand well what the Sea is trying to depict with all her actions—it confuses him. And this confusion leads the Sun to make his ways to get close to the Sea but to no avail the course of nature is forbidding him.

Fortunately, the ball of life rolled and the time for the Sun to touch the Sea came. As the Sun gets closer to the Sea, he can’t help but see his reflection through her which made him fall for her even more. It was exactly an orange time, the Sun kissed the Sea. Eventually, the Sun’s light enveloped the Sea; and the Sea can no longer help herself but chase after the Sun’s glow. They both enjoyed the warm of the moment.

 This story has no happy ending for this story has no ending at all. The Sun knew well that the blissful time will surely end; and the Sea knew as well that the Sun, no matter how close it would look like, will always be a light year away from her. A Sun eternally longing to get close to the Sea and a Sea eternally chasing the Sun’s glow—A love which is eternally recurring…

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To “Patatas”

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October-Ender

Let’s start this blog entry with the ending statement we happened to meet at the bus seat:

You’re the best thing that happened today.

Hooray for this day!

It was exactly 4:50 in the morning, and as the sun chases the moon at that very moment, we are likewise chasing our way home to be able to hug our beds because we are so beat.

9 and a half marvelous people end my October 2011 in such a remarkable-drollest-ever-exhausting-priceless way.

P.I. and I met at SM North EDSA we’re supposed to watch Private Benjamin and MTV EXIT Concert at MOA afterwards. It was 3:15 pm, from Starbucks we hurried at the Cinema but to our surprised, WTH, pila pa lang sa pagbili ng ticket over na! We patiently fall in the line, 3:42pm uh-oh we definitely cannot make it to 3:35pm show. 3:50 in the afternoon, facing the cashier at the ticket booth with excitement, P.I. asked for the ticket for the available cinema for Private Benjamin. Unfortunately, the next available shows are scheduled at 5:40 pm and 7:00 pm. I said no, we can’t watch MTV Exit if we choose to watch P.B. with the available slots. I knew that P.I. is very excited to watch the movie but she also wants to see Jay Park at MTV Exit concert. She gave up the P.B., we gave up, and decided to go to MOA. P.I. I want you to know that I really appreciate our conversation while we were on the train routing to Taft station. Just like the North-South route our imagination takes the same mode.

Hot-luxurious-sexy cars on display near the seaside area at MOA caught our attention. The shining lights, the cool steering wheels, the sounds of its stereo, from its tires to its bumpers and its painted roofs—I want to have a car like that too.

Okay, enough for commercials it’s time for the main event: the MTV Exit.

It started not so okay. I am not feeling well suddenly. My body is itching and I can’t breathe properly as the Itchyworms took the stage. What is this, an allergy? As far as my history is concerned, I can’t remember a case like this. I saw the worries in P.I.’s eyes. She kept on asking me if I am still okay. I already failed her for dumping Private Benjamin for this concert so, I said to myself that I am okay and I will be. But I can no longer pretend that I am okay, I asked her to accompany me at the nearest restroom. Luckily, the restroom is near the medic area. After getting some rest and taking a certain medicine my breathing gets better. So time to rock!

It’s getting late but the night is young. When the Pupil took the stage the crowd freak-out. It’s somehow funny for the crowd is asking Ely to sing songs like Kisapmata and Ligaya knowing such songs were actually the trademark of Eraserheads. But Ely did not fail the crowd, though he’s already at Pupil making their own trademark, and they played Alapaap.

Ang daming bawal sa mundo

Sinasakal nila tayo

Buksan ang puso at isipan

Paliparin ang kamalayan

In the middle of the program, everybody did not expect the presence of Jason Mraz. Head over heels, I’m stunned while gazing at his silhouette in the stage. Speechless. Wordless. I am so happy to see him, this time not just virtually—it’s for real! It’s like; okay I had enough for this day. I can sleep with all smiles for Jason Mraz really made my day. While everybody was still having hang-over of Jason Mraz unexpected-appearance the Parokya Ni Edgar raised another level of ecstasy as they enveloped the platform. They started it with Buloy.  Hoy hoy, Buloy naaalala mo pa ba nun’ tayo’y nagsasama? And end it with Pangarap Lang Kita song. They performed 4 songs and the crowd sang with them, well count us in. Before the program ends, the hosts reminded that the concert is a campaign for awareness against human trafficking. If you know someone who is experiencing human rights violation don’t be afraid to inform the authorities, call 1343 and report human trafficking. Let’s stop human trafficking, quoting the line from Sec. Leila de Lima “Human beings are not for sale.” The finale came, and it was a performance from a K-Pop star named Jay Park. That’s it. Haha. I am afraid to tell further details about Jay Park since I am no fan of K-Pop but honestly, he has a good body. For more details please free to ask P.I.

Well, I actually thought that it’s time to end the day, not to mention I am quite exhausted and my legs were really in pain of long stand at the concert; but some colleagues were asking P.I. and I to meet them somewhere in North. P.I. and I accepted the invitation, making the most out of this day.

While on our South to North route I texted CPT if he can come with us but I did not expect anything from him for I knew he had his own whereabouts and might be exhausted too. But I risked. And unlike our North to South trip, P.I. and I had a melancholic one. We were thinking that time of the people waiting for us on the other side; I am aware on some mix-up which made me a second thought of not going to the affair at North. But I believe that if P.I. needs to justify herself to them the other side needs to justify themselves too. It’s more of meeting both ends and I believe to all of them; to our friendship. Cheers to that!

The familiar place, tables, chairs and faces welcomed us. I greeted E.D. since to all of them she is mostly the absent to affairs like this, but I was bit disappointed how she frowned back. This bitch, I thought. She’s sick. Noted. But would that be a valid excuse for such actions? Anyway, I don’t want to ruin my day, besides there are 5 other people who can lighten up the ambiance. After few minutes of gulps and cigarettes the milieu became like the old droll days. As our laughs dominated the place CPT made his silent arrival—we were surprised.

At long last, after how many months of being separated and quite busy with our own stuff, the gang is back! S.S., M.A., M.F., E.D., P.I., I.DR., CPT and I waited for K.R. While on the wait, a memorable song played in the air that brought back the college-love-hate-affair of CPT. Well, you all know that song of Bruno Mars.

They are the same old people I used to like. I admit, there are changes to all of us whether it is for better or for worst the important thing for today is we are reunited again. We can talk about our differences but only to feel the ubiquity instead.

After waiting for K.R., the gang decided to extend the moment at a certain coffee shop at West—the ever popular Starbucks Coffee. There were no dull moments with these people.

I want you all to know that I really enjoyed my Java Chip frappe because I was with you people. It was worth to spend my day with 9 wonderful people (including Jason Mraz). But wait, J.C. is on the line! And now I can really say that the gang is back and complete. Maarte ka kasi J.C. kung nagbiyahe kana ‘nung nagtext kami e’di sana hindi lang boses mo ang nakasama namin. Nakakatakot pa naman boses mo sa phone. Joke. However, though your physical presence was not there we all want you to know that you’re never forgotten. (Parang deads ka lang) That coffee moment was quite a great one not until that “barista” wrote his message to us. “Sorry, hindi maari. Conservative kasi ako.” Leche ang FFFRESSSSCOOOOOOHHH. Nagkataon lang na ikaw lang kasi ang medyo gwapo ‘nung time na ‘yun. Hello 2 AM na nun! Kami na nga lang ata customers niyo kaya ikaw ang napag-tripan ng grupo. Pero ang KJ mo. (Bakla, I thought).

Moving forward, the gang still not in the mood to bid goodbyes and knowing that it would take long time again for a reunion like this, so we wandered around the North. Literally wandered. We walked and laughed. But we did not walk all the time, thanks to our imperceptible car. Yes. We have! Kami na lang nakakaintindi kung anong itsura non! Wag na mangelam. I drove them to the nearest “Eurotel” the main purpose is not for a sleep over but for I.DR. to jebs. You know? First stop over failed. So we moved forward to “Sogo”. WTH. We waited to that famous hotel for almost 1 hour then decided to leave. Yeah, hindi kami nagcheck-in; naki-aircon lang po at naki-upo. Good idea than to wander around at that dangerous hour.

I didn’t expect that I would love these people, knowing in fact that they are not my genuine batchmates. I am ahead of a year to them. Naniniwala ako sa sinasabi nilang “nasa kasama kasi ‘yan”. I learned that there’s no misunderstanding that would not be solved with few bottles of alcohol drinks. Napaka-simple nila kahit mukha silang maarte. Hahaha. Always after happiness.

It is such a nice thing to end my October with you. I will always miss you guys!

Nine marvelous people:

1. Pat
2. Ming
3. Bing
4. Ykel
5. Sonny
6. Tags
7. Chubz
8. Key
9. Jason Mraz

½ Jire

Taas Kamay!

 CPT took the picture kaya wala siya okay?

 (This is last October 29-30, 2011)

NP: Marchin On by OneRepublic

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for anna

(A draft but I dared publish. I really don’t know how to write a biography. So, I tried filling out some details of how did I know you. I hope this would suffice for the moment.)

 

I remember how excited S.M. was as he told me he’s going to watch Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 1. I asked him if he’s excited about the movie or is it because he’s going to watch the movie with ____? But I got no answer. Out of nothingness, my malicious mind works, AHA! He’s after that first-year-philosophy-student-strutter. The day they supposed to watch the movie came, but S.M. was left at our beloved university—lost. So, I asked what happened? Tinext niya raw, tinatawagan pero hindi nagre-reply. Sabi ng mga classmates umuwi na raw. WTH. Okay, S.M., I said, she’s gone, perhaps she took the Hogwarts Express and you’re a second late. First impression last? Well, Indian ba siya?

OMFG! I am so laaatee. No, I can’t miss this event—its CPT thesis defense. I entered the familiar room with familiar faces and there he was babbling about his work. He looked good though sweating. Hey dude! I am here! Can you read the cloud above my head? It says you can do it! We promised to walk the isle of triumph this coming commencement exercises and get out of this fucking university. Everything seems to be in their proper places as my eyes searched every little thing in the slaughter house until it caught an unidentified figure in the front seat. I sat nearest to the figure. Then it moved. It talked afterwards. “Ate matagal pa po ba siyang matapos kasi po may klase ako ngayon, magpapaalam lang po ako sa professor ko at magpapasa ng paper tapos babalik din ako?” A girl. For me, a girl who is trying to justify her cutting class activity, unconsciously. And let me extend my apology for attributing an “it” to her. I told her he was just halfway then she left the room. Subsequently, I asked someone who was that girl, only to find out that she is the first-year-philosophy-student-strutter. Then she came back and sat in the same seat—next to mine. She started a conversation and I politely respond trying to figure out if she had a trace of being an Indian. But there’s none. The fact that she said to me she will come back and did wipe out my first impression. And for the second thought, okay, here’s a German and she just returned.

Ate nag-hi ako sayo kanina pero hindi mo ako pinansin, a message from her. Sorry for times like this because most of the times I am not paying enough attention to people around me. And pardon my eyes, malabo kasi mata ko. I went to school for graduation stuff and as your batch was having class with Ma’am Joyce that time we were in the corridor, nomadic, like informal settlers no permanent place to stay at, I asked J.C. to locate your presence inside your classroom. You were sitting near the back, wearing a shirt and jeans and you were writing something on your notebook that time. I memorized your silhouette so the next time you pass me by I could at least initiate a greeting. Thus, do you remember the moment when I am making my way off to our university’s gym and you just went there? I say hi with a smile but you were busy making your steps. And in late reaction, you responded. You look very beautiful that time. You’re in a purple blouse, tight jeans, doll shoes and a girl-ly bag but your hair is a bit untidy. You looked like Katherine Heigl at that moment; you have an amusing facial reaction when talking. That German, it seems she’s turning into a Hollywood a star. 😛

R.C. asked me to accompany him to UP Diliman in order to buy some good books. Since I have no appointment after my sit-in class to Sir J.B.’s class, I said yes to him. As we prepare to leave, he told me that the first-year-philosophy-student-strutter is going with us too. He actually asked that first-year-philosophy-student-strutter before me. Uh-oh, I had a second thought honestly. But on the third thought, okay let’s give it a try. Before meeting her, R.C. is building her up to me, an ancient scene. We took LRT at Pureza station to Katipunan station. She looks timid throughout the train travel. Mukha din siyang “Nene”. R.C. is teasing her, I think R.C. did it for her to feel at ease. But the awkwardness remained. I treated them for some “kalye-foods”, kumakaen kaya itong ganito? Somai and Kwek-kwek along the road. She did not refuse. Gutom  ka te? Haha. Just kidding. She’s like a candid Hollywood star that time. Moreover, she did not complain for the long walks at UP Diliman. And when we arrived at the book store, I saw how her eyes glow when she saw the shelves of books. Amusing eyes. The time for goodbye came. I asked her to send us a text message if any unnecessary thing happens and to assure us she’ll be home safe and sound but to my surprised she told me she had no cellphone.

 

 

*some text missing*

 

 

I honestly do not know her enough. In my eagerness to give her a good memoire I tried searching some information about her through the cyberspace and look what I’ve got:

 

*****

Hindi pa ito tapos, obvious naman diba? Sorry. 🙂

 

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meaning to meaningless

       No finite point has meaning without an infinite reference point.

—  Jean-Paul Sartre

 

In the era where all supposed to be just a footnote of Plato, some people talk like Saints or a God who fell out of sky, telling you how lousy, stupid, irrational or vice you are. They’re like gifts from heaven but they don’t come in silver or gold wrappers; they come in clothes like yours, they speak your language, they sing your songs and walk the same path with you. They are good in articulating about time, space, about goodness and evilness; they can easily differentiate Spinoza from Leibnitz by using words of wisdom that you can’t fully grasp but since it sounds so good it seems so right. On top of that, they are best in differentiating themselves from you—in creating the taxonomy of beings.

But I am not here to denounce them, for they contribute to the welfare of humanity. They serve as your geographical indicator whenever you are lost.  They are experts on telling how miserable the pavement you are chasing.  They can tell the meaning of your name or even have the power to change it according to what your existence is indicating at the very moment. You should not feel gloomy if they named you hypocritical, wicked, bitch and the like. Be grateful, instead, for the knowledge of knowing yourself because of their abundant assessment—it’s a privilege.

There are times that you would feel misunderstood by the others, but when you face them you would know it is you who have misunderstood your very self. Indeed, they know yourself more than you do.

At certain times, you sincerely act according to what you thought was right. But considering the blessed thoughts of the others, you (in many ways) will turn out wrong and left with all the judgments of the public. At times like this, you do not have the right to complain, because they are not just simply the norm but the reality. You do not have the right to give or even explain the meaning of your actions, because at the end of the day, the verdict lies to them. And let them give meaning to your meaningless actions—let them relish in the ecstasy of fruitless adding meaning to what is meaningless.

 

 

Your soul belongs to you, there’s no doubt about that but it was shaped by them.  And it is a fact that these Saints/Gods who fell out of the sky are your dearest friends.

 

 

 

NP: Hand in my pocket by Alanis Morissette

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When HELL Talks

Hell is other people. –Jean-Paul Sartre

And before my hands completely close the book, a voice has broken the silence:

Hell1: Hey hell! how are you?

Hell2: Well, I think, am fine. How about you?

Hell1: I’m surprised that hell cares about me, and it’s very visible as of the moment.

Hell2: Yeah, even hell cares. What the hell!?

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Always the YES

If we find ourselves in circumstances which limit us and the milieu seems to be unhappy, then Sartre states we have only ourselves to blame. Moreover, we are responsible for what we are and to what we will become. This sweet manifestation of our existence is all possible because we are too capable of making a choice. Whether you feel melancholy or you find yourself in bliss, that feeling is all possible because you choose it to become possible. And a friendly advice to you my dear friend, choose out of sincerity, and to hell with Sartre’s concept of responsibility. We are vulnerable, fragile and we make mistakes most of the times—what a sweet life it is don’t you think? Do not linger too much on things which you cannot decide on. It is not healthy. Life is just a YES or a NO. If you can’t make a decision, always choose the YES because it is always worth the risk to make a try.

FEEL LIFE.

(I wish I could hear myself.)

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