December 31 2014 Wednesday

New year is an illusion. There's nothing really in space that demarcates the point in the ever-so-slowly-changing ellipse where the Earth began rotating around the Sun. It is but a random day while Amihan's cool and rainless kiss still touches the mountains and rustles the leaves. What's the difference between January 1 and February 25 anyway? Tomorrow is just another day, but we choose to celebrate it anyway.

Yes, yes. I'm aware that historically, it's a pagan celebration. 1st day of the Gregorian Calendar, liturgical stuff of the Roman Catholics and Protestants alike, etc. But really, why don't we have circular calendars? Maybe even if we did, we probably'd just mark off the day at the exact top as "Day 1" just like we set the 12 on the clock as zero.

We like the rectangular calendars because we like to think that there are new beginnings. We like to think that one day, we can just change who we are and say "I won't do this anymore" or "I will do that starting now"or "I will become like this" or "I will be like that." We like to think that overnight, as we light fireworks up into the sky, our mistakes would just burn up to the sky and explode bright and suddenly turn into something pretty.

Oh, I do believe in new beginnings. That's why I'm here blogging anyway. I want to build a habit of writing and reading the Bible. But it's not that easy. Yes, people change, but we have to be real and work hard for it. It takes 9 months before babies are born, there were 6 days of creation, and 3 days before the resurrection. Was God idle during those times? Do sculptors or painters or potters snap their fingers to form a masterpiece? The Almighty God chose to work, and work also we should.

I guess I won't wait for tomorrow. Let me start now.

Don't Wait for the Pope - On Pope Francis' Arrival

Millions of devout Catholics and millions more of curious and intrigued people are eager for his arrival next year, January 15 2015. A lot are actually more excited about this than New Year or Christmas. There are even hashtags in Twitter like #DearPopeFrancis where you would see people write messages, ask for prayers, and even ask for help from him.

And why not? After all, he’s the cool Pope. He’s the people’s pope. He wasn’t just a poser who joined twitter and took selfies; He was a man of action. He would personally take time to call and console a rape victim, and sneak out of Vatican to help the poor. He always emphasized love over dogma. He focused on serving people. He extended the hands of the church to the gays, the whole LGBT community, atheists, Muslims – people who were previously disdained by the church. He openly criticized the lavish lifestyle of some bishops and priests and held them in account. He was a role model to the youth.

Even from the viewpoint of those outside the church, Pope Francis is an amazing guy. But Filipino Catholics are eager to see him too for another reason: blessings. It is the same reason many aim to accomplish “Simbang Gabi.” It is why people would volunteer to torture themselves and shed their own blood in penitences. It is why millions would stampede and push and even step on others just to touch a portion of the Poong Nazareno with their handkerchiefs. “Blessing” is often understood as an answer to a personal wish or a prayer, and it can be attained either by completing a ritual, or being in contact (not necessarily physical) with someone or something holy.

Third, Pope Francis is a celebrity, and Filipinos love celebrities. There’s probably no need to expound on this.

Well, what’s so wrong with waiting for Pope Francis? It diverts attention from the real focus. Not much, eh? Actually, that’s a pretty big deal, because the real focus should be on Christ. Even he admits this.

We ask for wishes from Pope Francis, #DearPopeFrancis to get him to pray to God for us, when the only mediator between God and man is Christ Jesus. In fact, this is why Christians aren’t like Catholics that pray to saints and Mary the mother of Jesus: aside from being a sign of unbelief in Christ’s work (that His sacrifice has allowed us to enter boldly into the throne of grace), it’s quite pointless to pray to another intercessor, even the Pope, when you can already pray directly to God. (Anyway, it’s true that most Christians don’t get the doctrine that Catholics’ praying to dead saints is a matter of talking to them and asking for intercession the way a Christian would ask for intercession from other believers, making their bias rather irrational and simply an act of following the majority.)

We wait for His blessing, when God has already given a much greater one: eternal life through Jesus Christ. He has given us Himself; He is our portion. What more should we seek?

We await his arrival with much eagerness, but not even have a percent for Christ’s. Even before finalizing the date and the itinerary of the Pope’s visit, the government has been doing some “cleaning up” in Tacloban. (It’s an extremely unjust case of relocation of the poorer residents to put up a facade of order and cleanliness. I do hope the Pope addresses this.) But waiting for Christ’s return isn’t even half as exciting. We have lost our faith that He will come. Local media’s announcement that “Pope Francis’ visit confirmed” is more reliable than that loud voice, as of a trumpet, saying “I will come to you quickly!”

And so don’t wait for Pope Francis. Wait for Him who has already come; Him who was, who is, and who is to come.

Transfer and a Welcome Note

I'll be migrating my notes here slowly in the next few weeks. Christmas vacation is only until January 11 though, so maybe I'll use that time to study something about the layout. Not really good with those things.

In any case, this will be my private-public outlet (my public place where nobody is). Here I'll rant sometimes, preach sometimes, think loudly sometimes. What's the deal? What's the point of having an outlet when nobody reads it? Well, I think it gives an illusion of someone actually listening to me. You see, I usually end up the receiving end of the conversation; not that people aren't willing to listen, it's just that I don't really talk much about myself. Heck, if you want to know me then spend time with me; I'm a "quality time" kind of person.

Too emo? Ah, that's probably another characteristic of this blog. I usually only write when I introspect, and I only introspect when I'm sad. Happy people don't introspect; thinking about life and stuff is for the sadder ones.

That's pretty much it for now.

December 24 2014 Wednesday

Today nothing happened. I did nothing; (read manga, play LoL). Well, I must say Gantz is a really good read, with sex and blood and stuff, but the character development was really interesting. I even lost my Christmas game in LoL.

Well the summer moon just replied, saying 'yummy ang food eh.' Speaking of food, a lot of the food - no, actually all of them had pork in it. As you may have known, I don't prefer pork (but I do eat it just to clarify). It's Christmas anyway, so I'll endure this time.

It's a funny phrase isn't it? "It's Christmas anyway, do a little good," "it's Christmas anyway, do what you want." Ah well, if it adds a little good in the world then by all means let's have Christmas.

But this uneventful Christmas of mine is so ironic isn't it? No replies (except for my summer moon which I'm really happy about). Well at least my groupmate L and teammate A remembered, but they're the type that actually do that all the time so I don't think it too special. Not much greetings, and just three gifts from relatives. Maybe God would answer, though. I hope he does. I'm not really so sure anymore.

Pesteng Karoling

“Patawad, sa 24 na lang.”

Yan ang sinasabi namin sa lahat ng nangangaroling. Hindi lang naman siguro kami ang mga taong sawa na sa mga batang pumupukpok lang ng tambourine at walang kagana-ganang kumanta kung mangaroling. Karoling ang tawag, pero sa katunayan ay panlilimos lang din nang may hawak na tambol at dagdag na kapal ng mukha.

Sabihin mo nang wala akong awa, pero hindi ako uto-uto. Alam naman natin na sindikato lahat sila, maliit man o malaki. Pag nagbigay ka ng isa, sunod-sunod na yan; gabi-gabi kang kakantahan ng “Pasko na Naman” at “Sa’ming Bahay,” at aabusuhin ng paulit-ulit ng kanilang mga kasama hanggang sa marindi ka at maubos hindi lang ang iyong barya kundi pati ang iyong pasensya at kabutihang-loob. ‘Di mo ba sila nakita dun sa kanto? Tingnan mo dun, nagtuturuan kung anong kulay ng bubong at pader o kung saang parol nakasabit ang bahay na nagbibigay. Mabuti pa nga kung kumakanta; minsan ay pumupukpok na lang ng lata at nagsasalita na lang, masabi lang na may kanta. Minsan kakatok lang, “namamasko po!”

Oo, hindi ako namimigay ng limos. Bakit ako mamimigay? Hindi kaya madaling kumita ng pera; tapos, hihingiin lang nila? Hindi kakain ang hindi nagtatrabaho. Pati nga DSWD sinasabi nang wag mamigay ng limos. Aminin mo na, peste ang mga yan.

Nagtataka nga ako bakit ako pa ang kailangang humingi ng tawad. Bakit ba kailangang sabihing “patawad?” Karapatan ba nilang bigyan ko sila ng pera? Nanghihingi lang sila; nasa sa akin na kung gusto kong magbigay. Pero sila pa itong may ganang magsungit at magmura at magsisigaw ng “barat!”

Ako ang mamimili kung sino ang karapat-dapat bigyan. Yung magaling kumanta, kuhang-kuha ang “espiritu ng pasko.” Yung maayos manamit, siguradong hindi nanlilimos. Yung may gitara pa, effort talaga! Basta wag yung gusgusin, sindikato yan. Kung saan-saan lang naman nila ginagastos yung pera: pangmall, lakwatsa, landi. Hindi naman nag-aaral ng mabuti.

Pero minsan naiisip ko, wala rin naman kaming pinagkaiba. Minsan hindi rin naman ako nag-aaral ng mabuti. Nagfafacebook, twitter, DotA, LoL, manonood ng animé, o kung anong BBC series, kain dito, movie doon; ginagamit ko din naman ang pera ko para magpakasaya. Siguro ang pinagkaiba lang, nabiyayaan lang ng kaunting ginhawa. Siguro naman kahit mahirap sila may karapatan pa rin silang magpakasaya, di ba? Kahit mall lang o lakwatsa, hindi naman siguro masama?

Kung effort ang pag-uusapan, magkasinghirap lang din siguro ang pagtatrabaho at panlilimos. Kahit gaano kakapal ang mukha mo, hindi rin naman madaling tapakan ang iyong dignidad at paghinalaan na magnanakaw o tamad ng bawat pares ng mata na makasalubong mo. Hindi madaling magbilad sa init ng araw at sumabit sa jeep na gusto kang ihulog, at maglakad ng nakayapak habang isa sa limang daang tao lang ang magbibigay sa’yo ng piso. Sa mga pesteng gustong mabuhay na parang hari ng kalsada siguro wala na akong magagawa, pero sa mga batang may pangarap pa, baka makatulong ang kaunting barya.

Wala rin naman akong pinagkaiba, dahil sa totoo lang, peste din ako. Hari ng sarili kong kalsada, abusado sa nag-iisang bahay na namimigay ng limos. Pero kahit na hindi ako magaling kumanta, o maayos manamit, at kahit na walang gitara, minsan isang pasko may pumili na bigyan ako ng isang regalong higit sa lahat ng baryang maiipon ng mundo. Minsan isang pasko pinatawad din ako. Kaya’t kung mangangaroling ka samin, kung pwede sana, ito rin ang ibibigay ko. Kaya kung pwede sana, wag mong hanapin ang barya. Ngayon, patawad muna. Balik ka na lang sa 24. Sana maalala mo pa.

Sadness

There are days when you’re just sad, that even the heat of the brightest sunshine masked by the coolest breeze could not penetrate the skin to reach and cheer the soul. There are days when even the most majestic crashing of the waterfalls accompanied by the sweetest chirping of the birds and crickets and forest critters sound like TV static against the unthinkable turmoil of the mind. There are days when the kindest acts of service, the most concerned “how are you?”, and the gentlest touch prick the wounds of a dying heart.

There are days that for no reason, we just want to give up: stop working, stop thinking, stop talking – for absolutely no reason we want to do absolutely nothing at all. Some days we just want to die, maybe just for a day or two.

Today is one of them.

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I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I just want to know who really cares, who would stay in the midst of this despair, or who would be foolish enough to stick with me even when I drive them away. But sometimes it’s not a matter of who cares, for surely someone does even just a little; nor is it a matter of who cares enough; sometimes it’s a matter of not knowing how. And I am afraid to tell them not because they don’t ask, but because they might not.

If I asked you to stay without talking, without even listening – just silently staying by my side for hours and hours on end while I sit and walk and think of nothing and everything at the same time, would you do it for me? If I woke you up from your snug slumber at 2 am but had nothing to say, would you hold the phone to your ear and listen to me breathe, or would you just pretend to be there while you fall asleep? It’s stupid, I know, but that’s what I feel, what I want, maybe what I need. I’m stupid, I know, but some days I’m just sad. Some days I just want to do nothing at all, except maybe die for a day or two. Today is one of them. Today, maybe I need you to stay.

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It’s almost funny that the word “sad” is a pretty sad existence. Do you know how sadness has always been underrated? It’s the one thing nobody wants. It’s so quickly forgotten, so hastily avoided, not just as an emotion but even as a word because of its lack of ‘power.’ It’s true; sad isn’t as powerful as depressed, sorrowful, dejected, despairing, heartbroken, gloomy, melancholic, woeful, and perhaps a hundred more words each a different shade of sad.

Sadness, after all, is defined as the opposite of happiness. Younger brothers know how hard it is to be always compared to the firstborn. Talents, looks, attitude – they are always living in the shadow of their kuya. Sino mas magaling sa inyo? (Which one of you is better?) Kamukha mo kuya mo! (You look like your brother!) Ba’t di mo gayahin kuya mo? (Why don’t you emulate your brother?). All their childhood, they live like this. But the sadness of sad is more than that: Imagine being defined by your enemy and antithesis from time immemorial until time undatable. It never becomes about you; it’s always about him. And you would always be known as not him. Sad is worse than a shadow, it’s not even a void; it is a negative, always defined by its opposite, always known by what it’s not.

But sometimes – no, oftentimes, it’s the word that we use to describe our feelings. Oftentimes we’re not depressed, nor sorrowful, nor dejected, nor whatever, because oftentimes we’re none of the above except just plain sad. It’s ever-present yet ever-unwanted. So the next time that you’re sad, appreciate its existence even just a little – squint your eyes and curve up your lips a bit, because even smiles know sadness too.

Cry

Who can keep a pig away from the mud?
Who can free an animal when pleasure floods?
Who can turn the rudder called the tongue?
Who can change the soul and heart of man?

I don't need your forgiveness if it can't make me clean
Don't just save me; change me from within
Make me new; make me holy
I want to see you in all your glory