the radical

Confessions of an "Unlonely" Loner

2012-02-11T09:00:00.000+08:00

[And another repost from my old Multiply account. Yes, I'm on lazy mode.]

Single, but never alone. What does it really mean?

Several years back, we were tasked to carry on the leadership of the Single Adults Ministry (SAM) in our church. I always love to do the visuals and promotions, and with the help of our then-new digital projector and PC (which ran on a 256mb RAM, and a proud 60gb HDD), I'd take time to tinker with ideas and stuff.

One of the challenges then was thinking of a good concept on how to promote the SAM. I mean, what is SAM all about? Looking at our small group, it wasn't exactly a pretty sight: most had relational issues - that meant both those who had relationship problems, and many of those who wished they had a relationship. But as the weeks go by, I realized a question: What makes them come back and stay?

Single, but never alone. It was both an idea and a challenge - yet something I myself didn't understand fully.

Despite being in the ministry, I can't deny the loner in me to find escape from time to time (well, okay - maybe more often than necessary). Being in a relationship then assured me that I have someone to run to when needed. But alas, I found myself staring at the same shoe I've been observing from others for a long time - and feeling that strong pang of loneliness which I haven't experienced for a long time struck me with a crushing blow.

Single, but never alone. I was starting to disbelieve it, starting to swear it off as an impossible ideal. A fanciful catch-phrase, even.

Ambling through the nights and days alone, rejecting companionship yet feverishly craving it, I always found myself back at the small group of friends at my church. I didn't mind being unnoticed (in fact, I tried my best to be unnoticed), but just being able to hear them, be with them... it encouraged me enough to slowly find my strength again.

Single, but never alone. Looking back, I understood what my emotional journey was all about - it may have been a dark adventure for me, but it did opened my eyes that despite being a loner, God knows how much I need friends to remind me that I will never walk and face life alone... And even though everyone goes their own ways someday, I can rest in confidence that He will always be by my side till the day I greet Him face to face.

So here I am, still single... maybe lonely at times... but who's complaining? With God's love and promises, and a group of pesky friends who care for me when I don't, what more could I ask for?

3 Lovely Thoughts for the Loveless (on Valentines Day)

2012-02-10T13:42:00.000+08:00

[A repost from my old Multiply account]

Thankfully, nobody's pestering me this week about Valentines. I'm not trying to be a stuck-up person (God knows how natural I can be at that, nyahahaha) - but seriously, the marketing hype during this season is soooooo annoying. I mean, what does it mean to love, really? And so I thought, "HEY, why don't I write my own ideas about it?" So to give myself a little bit of peace, here goes my three-piece of advice:

1. Love wholeheartedly.

Holding back on love (except for moral grounds) isn't true love. But what keeps us from loving 100%? The Bible is clear about it:

"A real love for others will chase those worries away. The thought of being punished is what makes us afraid. It shows that we have not really learned to love."1 John 4:18 (Contemporary English Version).

Okay, so I might be out of the context a bit... But the statement remains true, nonetheless! We are often afraid to totally give our hearts to someone because of fear!

There's no installment plans for love: you have to give it all. Before God created us, He prepared His love nest for us in advance - so that when the first man opened his eyes, all the evidence of His love was already there! And Jesus didn't say, "Okay, I'll forgive these sins first, then some of those others later... now, I'll only be forgiving 100 people each day, so..." HE DID IT ALL AT ONCE - RIGHT THERE AT THE CROSS!

*Pardon the dramatics, got carried away*

The point is simple: Don't be half-hearted when it comes to love! Brave the heartaches! And when your heart does break, His love will bind it together again!

(Or in my case, I just let His love bleed out of the cracks)

2. Love without regrets.

The saddest thing about people being in love today is that they love to pose the "What if..." and "What could have been..." questions (oh well, I used to be one wahaha tralala). We reminisce about good times and bad, about our ex-lovers and would-have-beens, and all the while pounding ourselves with such depressive blows only maims us from pursuing God's will for our love lives (YES! GOD CARES!)

While we all may have some emotional hang-ups once in a while, we should never blame ourselves for not loving enough - or being loved enough. That's all in the past; you can't do anything about it - except learn from it. Having loved and being loved is a miracle enough - whether we or they deserved it or not. What's important is that we discover our own capacity to be selfless enough in this selfish world and time.

Most of all, God never regretted loving us even when we were unworthy of His love (when were we ever worthy, anyway?). And yet, He keeps on stubbornly loving us, without complaining or demanding us to love Him back. How's that for tough love?

3. Love unconditionally.

I believe in love at first sight. But when at second glance, the person you were enamored with suddenly transforms into a beast, will you flee? Okay, so that sounds extreme - no, it is exaggerated, really. But we all face such circumstances: we discover that our beloved only brush his/her teeth once a week, we find out that he/she snores on the jeepney (but with a cute tune!), or maybe we stumble across an old secret he/she has that made our mental shrine of him/her crumble in dismay.

Can you honestly say, "So what?"

It's easy to fall for someone - we all love to put out our best foot forward especially in a crowd. But at that point when we bear witness to that person's darkest moment, when all but the light within you seemed to be extinguished, will you choose to stay and brighten up that someone's life, no matter what? Or will you shy away and just pray that someone else will?

* * *

Hmm, I guess this doesn't just apply to romance, but to friendship as well... hehe... Now, if I can only tell these things to myself... LOLZ... *bitter XD* !

Enjoy, and may His love continuously influence us all! :03

The Extreme Middle

2012-01-25T13:00:00.001+08:00

It's already the second week of the impeachment trial of the Philippine's Chief Justice. And like before, opinions are getting polarized. And even Christians are finding themselves not only between whom to side with (prosecution versus defense), but also between involvement and apathy.

It almost feels like a sports event. And oh yes, my Twitter friend AmicusCuriae is acting just like a typical sports fanatic (though she denies being one):

To which, another Twitter user asked me frankly whom I am siding with.

A question which made me sympathize with Senate President Juan Ponce Enrile.

Who am I siding with?

Being in the middle has always been regarded with prejudice. And we can't blame them: a lot of seemingly Christian notions have branded 'the middle spot' as the hotseat of mediocrity or complacency. Or in Biblical illustrations - the lukewarm paradox of the Laodiceans (Revelations 3:14-21).

But does that apply to all middle stuff?

Back when I was part of the Senior Scouts movement in our high school, we were taught that there are always three important leadership positions in a squad. As we know, there's always the front-end leader, who goes ahead in line and is in charge of directions, watching out danger before them, and generally directs group movement. Then there's also the rear-end leader. This one looks out for those who are lagging behind, makes sure nobody gets left behind, and guards against sudden danger from the back.

And there's the oft-taken for granted person in the middle. This guy is in charge of reminding the front leader to slow down or stop when the others at the rear at getting left behind. He also is in charge of encouraging the ones behind him to pick up the pace when they are unnecessarily slowing down the group.

Being in the middle is a very difficult choice. You need to stay neutral. You need to make quick judgments. You need to be frank, to be bold to say what needs to be said - even if it risks a disagreement.

Here are some controversial stuff that I believe in:

I believe that tobacco plants are good, because God created them. But when turned into cigarettes, it becomes a harmful product. However, this doesn't change the fact that it is a plant with potential benefits, only if we choose to make other researches.

I believe that marijuana plants are good, because God created them. But because people abuse/misuse it, it has become a symbol of drug addiction – and validly so. Yet, it doesn't change the fact that if properly regulated, it might lead us to other products that are less harmful, less addictive and more economically profitable (there are already a lot of researches on this end, if you care to google them up).

I believe that sex is good, because God designed us with it. But because we tend to misunderstand, misuse and also abuse it, we end up with psychological, social and relational issues. Yet, if we go back to the so-called 'obsolete/archaic/medieval view' of sex, and accept the function and purpose God had intended for it — then it is one of His most pleasurable gifts (pun intended) to us!

So, going back to the original topic (prosecution versus defense of CJ Corona): who am I siding with?

Neither. I choose to stand in the middle: where only truth and justice matters.

I choose not to be swayed by media, by partisan politics, by religious calls, or by biased opinions.

Though the middle ground may be shaky, I will try my best to stand on it. Or should my own will and reason fail, I will kneel.

So help me, God.

SSSH: The Radical Art of Shutting Up by Shouting

2012-01-13T18:10:00.003+08:00

Sssh.

Contrary to common knowledge, this is probably the real first word we ever learned as babies. But sssh, adoring parents wouldn't like that, won't they?

As much as we'd love to enjoy life, let's admit it: there are so many rules and laws from the day we were born, and probably more will be enacted until the day we die.

Don't do this. Don't do that.

Don't wear this; don't wear that.

Don't say this. Don't say that.

Don't behave like this; don't behave like that.

Sssh.
One of my fondest embarrassingly amusing childhood memory was about a time a neighborhood friend of mine had a quirky time after we first discovered our first vulgar word.

In the bicol dialect, it was 'kito' (sex).

And so we'd giggle as we mention the word over and over again between ourselves, without really understanding what it means. It was just fun. It was our secret.

Until my mom heard me accidentally say it inside the house when I got home that very night.

With a stern voice, she warned me not to say it again. Then, she turned around and walked away.

I don't remember why I did it, or what came over me. Maybe it was because I had so much fun just laughing with my friend over that newly-added vocabulary. Or maybe I was in my pre-adolescent rebellion.

Involuntarily and subconsciously, I shouted that word aloud.

"KITO!"

My dad, who was playing a video game in the old Nintendo Family Gaming System, didn't flinch.

But my mom, who must have been a ninja during her teens, seemingly teleported from across the room and delivered a resounding slap on my face.

My dad looked at me.

And that concludes the first lesson I had about social norms.

Was it really wrong to say such a word in the first place?

Nowadays, I hear children mouth off unimaginable vulgarities in the internet gaming shops. I hear children and parents have a lovingly vulgar exchange of words in public. And who can blame them? Society and media has redefined the social norm.

People who are not vulgar are the ones who are deviant now.

And people who are not afraid to speak the truth are deviant now.

Sssh.

Recently, I have been checking my online habits, and I do notice that I am indeed being a bit too radical in how I phrase my rants in tweets, Facebook posts, and comments on various discussion threads (particularly when its about politics – especially biased reports. Blame my propensity and fervor for interpellation on my debating team experience. Oh how I miss those intelligent debates!)

Even in religious discussions, I do tend to be outspoken (Oh, I remember that book by CCM! ). Whether it was the influence of my pastor or something inert, I can't really tell. But as a radical, I realize that we are in a generation where 'being politically correct' has become more important than being 'fundamentally true' (I wanted to say Biblically true, but not all my arguments are about the Bible).

Sssh.

Should I be silent about my thoughts?

Sssh.

Should I be silent about my opinions?

Sssh.

Should I be silent about my beliefs?

Sssh.

Should I be silent about my faith?

Sssh.

Will my silence be ever heard? Or will the shout of my heart be ever silent?

(Photo credits to Joseph Christephen Valente. The photo/poster is actually for a non-related topic to this post. But hey, ideas are ideas. And yeah, if you're interested – join us on February 3 at the Asian Mansion near Greenbelt.)

Here We Go Again

2012-01-10T10:32:00.002+08:00

And so we started another new year. Hooray!

And again, a lot of us were excited — as usual.

And a lot of us, again, wore a poker face as we consumed the celebratory meal. As usual.

And then there's a lot of us who just faced it again with worries. Worries about end of the world stuff, worries about impending economic crises and job instabilities, and worries about possible calamities that can strike anywhere, anytime.

Like that's unusual.

And then, there's me.

I noticed that for the past few years (wew, feeling ang tagal na ng blog haha!) I always had this annual blog reflection about why am I blogging. And seriously, I always need to ask myself those kind of questions.

Why am I doing these things?

Last Friday, I shared about "The Deadlines" at the Single Adults Ministry. I know I sucked, but along the way as I was preparing, God was dealing with a lot of things in my own life. Like — "why did I ever accepted the responsibility of sharing the Word that night?!" or "Why bother losing weight?" or "Should I still really pursue finishing a college degree?" or "Why stay in my current church or care group?" or "Why bother being a kuya to the church youth or kids?" or "Why stay in Facebook?" or "Why keep in touch with my parents and siblings?"

Why?

I had this crazy idea last year about giving a Christmas gift that really matters. And being a graphic designer, the most creatively practical stuff I came up with was a 2 inch by 5 inch desktop mini-calendar. But wait, there's one more thing (Gaah you gotta miss Steve Jobs for that line): it wasn't enough to just make it, I had to make it purposeful — more than just a calendar, but a statement. A life campaign.

Hence, the Year of the Radical. (Move over, Water Dragon. Rawrr!)

One of the most striking quotes that wacked me (again) this year was an old high school favorite of mine:

"Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose."
~ Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr, Les Guêpes (“The Wasps”), 1849

The more it changes, the more it stays the same.

Just like life and its worries. Or this world and its strifes and trivialities. Or you and me – and whatever that may mean.

But most especially, amidst all these changes – one fundamental truth remains unchanged: God.

As I was making the mini-calendar, I discovered that being a radical isn't just about "being different" or "going against the norms". There was something more powerful than these. I learned that being a radical is more importantly someone who asks the "why" and brings people back to the basics, the fundamental truths, in order to point them towards a hopeful future, a brighter possibility.

I never know if the world would truly end this year. But if it will, I want to spend my last year as a radical.

Would you join me in living in the year of the radical?

P.S.

NO MORE FREE CALENDARS!!! Hahahha! (Come on, give my wallet a break!)

And photo credits to Ate Ida Torres of OMFLit :p Thanks for the snazzy shot!

You can follow her in Twitter or her blog.

What Does Christmas Mean?

2011-12-19T22:03:00.000+08:00

As we hear the Christmas carols ring
And see families happily shopping
What does Christmas mean?

As we hear the news from everywhere
Of suffering, strife and people who don't care
What does Christmas mean?

As we meet people along the way
Where human beings on streetsides for a night stay
What does Christmas mean?

As we give and receive a gift
Do ours and what was ours make our hearts shift?
What does Christmas mean?

As we live through each passing moment
With each smile or tear or emotion spent
What does Christmas mean?

I ReLOVE YOU 101: Part 1 - More Than Words

2011-12-11T04:42:00.000+08:00

I just saw this video going viral on my friends' posts and I thought, "Hey, that's perfect for my blog!" And so I'm forced to start my series earlier than I planned.

So, do you remember the earliest time you discovered, learned and experienced (puppy) love?

Let's face it: The Purefoods Hotdog ad clinched it with "Kids can tell." Because it's true. It's so much to say what love is when we were children: enjoying a parent's hug, sharing toys with friends, being protected and spoiled by siblings, getting licked by a puppy... everything that has the awesome "aww" factor gets tagged with a heart medal for depicting what love is.

Then things changed when we finally gets introduced to society... or TV/internet. Whichever comes first.

All those simple, pure thoughts of love gets "educated". We see our yaya literally squeaking in kilig as her favorite couple kiss on a teleserye. We hear graphic expression of passion thru songs, adorned with lyrics that seems to convey more physicality than intimacy. We see posters and ads littered with messages of sensual desire. From FM radio shows (and jokes), to movies and TV series, and even among recent animation movies — crass jokes based on love and relationship verdantly abound like the best season of spring...

And yes, saying "I love you" has become a sad, empty cliché nowadays. No matter how sincere you truly are.

I love you. What does it really mean?

I don't remember where I picked up my own ideology, but I do remember that sometime during my elementary, I had a big crush on this cute girl. And though it proved to be one of my most hilarious memories (spanning an entire school year and beyond), it did solidify a resolve I somehow came up with along the way:

I will only say "I love you" to the girl I really like — which means I want her to be my girlfriend;
That girlfriend is someone I really want to marry
I can only kiss the girl I can say "I love you" to

Tough words for a 4th grader, huh?

It's sooo easy to be a kid.

But as a kid who grew up in DVBS, Sunday School and some weird twist of childhood memories which really helped me grow in Christ — I actually held up to that belief all throughout highschool and college (yes, even had the moral strength to reject any desire to court the girls when I was at my physical prime...)

ANNND flashforward past my first relationship and broken years and back to now, I realized that what held me back from seeking another relationship immediately after my breakdown err breakup wasn't a sense of bitterness. Rather, it was the same set of ideals I had as a 4th grader. A childlike personal principle I've set on myself, and without knowing, consecrate the words "I love you" to the one whom I truly feel that way.

Do you believe in "Love is blind"?

Do you believe in "Love is a mystery"?

Do you believe in "Love is a many splendored things"?

That's how powerful words can be — Words that you hear, words that you see, words that you feel. But the most powerful of them all are the words that you engrave on your own heart: the words that you live by...

And sometimes for us who are older, do we bother to consider the kind of words we leave behind?

* * *

NEXT BLOG

I ReLOVE YOU 101: Part 2 - Of Dream Guys, Ideal Guys & The Real Me

Coming soon!

I ReLOVE YOU 101: An Intro (or Reentry) to Love and ReLoving

2011-12-10T01:32:00.000+08:00

Originally, I wanted to entitle this blog entry as "A Curious Critique on the Confusing Cacophony of Contemporary Culture of Cliché Commitments based on Choices of Convenience and its Catastrophic Consequence, and the Considerable Challenge of Changing the Companionship Criteria."

Yes. You don't need to reread it to understand why I changed my mind.

Ever since I've reentered the amusing world of the singles, it wasn't much of a surprise to encounter the question, "Eh bakit single ka pa rin ngayon?" Like it was the most abnormal state I could be in.

I think the more important (and oft misunderstood) question is: "Eh bakit ako papasok sa isang relasyon?"

Why are we so pressured to be in a relationship, anyway?

Okay, so maybe I could hear an imaginary radio playing ♪ ♫ Once bitten, and twice shyyyy...♩ ♬ But no, this is not some form of bittertalk. Rather, I feel quite concerned with a lot of beliefs floating around right now.

Like "The best way to move on is to find someone else to replace that person".

Or "Pray for God's perfect partner for you."

Or "First love never dies."

(I'll be tackling these in the next blogs - yes, I'm kinda planning to run these as a series. I think.)

Seriously. Where did all these come from?

And with all those books, seminars, campaigns, TV shows, and movies on ideal love, relationship, courtship and marriage — why should I, a mere single blogger, bother to write about this?

Because frankly — I care. For you. And most especially, I care for the young people who are imitating you and me, and are learning from our small victories and epic failures. I care that If we don't say something, do something, and stand up for something, we'd only see another generation lost to another cycle of premature broken hearts. Or worse, broken lives.

Why should I be in a relationship?

Are we truly ready to say with absolute certainty the words, "I love you"?

* * *
NEXT BLOG
I ReLOVE YOU 101: Part 1 - More Than Words

Coming soon!

The Challenge of Responsible Generosity for the Post-Modern Christian

2011-11-06T03:30:00.001+08:00

We just left the building, blessed and joyful. The WIN QC evangelistic concert was finally over. The post-activity meetings were done. It was time for some carnal rewards: FOOD.

It was already late in the evening. We still had to walk a couple of blocks for the nearest practical dining place. But they could only accommodate us in the sidewalk tent area. Well, I thought it was gonna be fun.

As we sat down and set our plates, a young boy passed by and casually dropped an envelope on our table. I simply dismissed it. I mean, seriously: we’re tired, we’re hungry. And we just wanted to enjoy the company of our friends. After a while, the boy surly retrieved the ignored envelope.

In the middle of the meal, I noticed the street children pestering the other table. They were insisting our companions to spare them some of the meal. I felt annoyed. And I felt alarmed at the thought that I felt annoyed.

We just came from a Christian activity, blessed and joyful. And here we were, enjoying God’s generous provision. And here they were, children who were loitering around an eatery late at night. Was I being merely prejudiced by my past experiences? Was I being judgmental with their behavior?

One of the younger children came right beside me, and in an obviously rehearsed tone, he asked me: “Kuya, pwedeng akin na lang yang tira?” (Big brother, can I please have that leftover?)

I was torn. Torn between ethics, social responsibility, and my own conviction. Torn between a utilitarian view that if I give in, I would be teaching this kid that what he’s doing is okay, therefore I will be responsible for his continued behavior of alms-begging. Torn between a social responsibility that if I truly want to help, I should do something that will have a longer-lasting impact on the child’s welfare – but since this would probably the first and last opportunity that I might meet him, how can that happen?

Lastly, I was torn with my own conviction: that Christ teaches us to give food to the hungry. To be simply generous.

Was I being a hypocrite?

I was a kuya in the group, and I could feel the burden of responsibility: how should I respond to this child? Every action I make, every word I say is an indirect example and a lesson I’m imparting to the young ones with us. I had to be careful. I had to do the right thing. But instead, I chose the practical way.

In a hushed tone, I said to the child, “Mamaya na lang; baka mapagalitan ulit kayo nung service crew.” (We’ll see later; you might get scolded again by the service crew.)

I knew. I am being a hypocrite.

It was then that Joy, another youth leader in our group, said: “We shouldn’t give them our scraps of leftovers. If you want, let’s buy them food instead.” I was a bit embarrassed that she had to be the one to actually say it with conviction. But what happened next really woke me up. It was entirely the initiative of the youth who were with us.

“Ibigay na lang natin yung otap.” (“Let’s just give them the otap.” Otap is a crunchy local snack.)

It was a very simple idea. Instead of going through the arduous process of debating what to buy, how much is enough, for how many… the simple suggestion merely focused on one important question: what do we have now that we can give to them?

With that, our temporary moral dilemma was solved.

But I do wonder: as a Christian living in a post-modern world, will this moral dilemma truly end with such simple acts of kindness and faith?

Yet, I am reminded: God never gave us the task of being the world’s troubleshooter. Just a vessel of His love. Of His hope.

I guess even a kuya like me has to relearn the basics from his younger siblings from time to time.

The KUYATE Leadership: Part 4 of 4

2011-10-30T09:00:00.001+08:00

PART 4: STEPPING FORWARD

I remember well a line from Bleach, a popular Japanese manga/anime. In one scene, Kurosaki Ichigo, the hero of the story, criticized his opponent:

“You know why big brothers are born first? To protect the little ones that come after them.”

Just because we stopped being a youth leader doesn’t mean our part in the youth ministry ended. Wrong. Like I always shared with other leaders, we need to remember that the church is just like a big family. Everyone is connected. Everyone has a function. Everyone has a role. Let me give this simple diagram: Children grow into youth. Youth grow into young adults. Young adults get married, or just get older. Some married couples produce children.

Young adulthood is the crossroad. Young adults understand the culture of the youth, and their parents as well. Young adults can have the professional skill and experience to develop a better curriculum for children, to which they can train the youth who wants to be Sunday school teachers. Most young adults will eventually (or hopefully) end up in the couples ministry. Young adults have the financial income to support other ministries like music, media, sports, etc. Young adults still have the vigor of youth, yet the temperance of adulthood. Young adults can appreciate the wisdom of the elderly – which we often scoffed at when we were younger. And young adults stand at the economic, corporate, political and social crossroads of the community.

Being a kuya or an ate in the family, especially for us Filipinos, is a big deal. Are we paving the way for the next generation, lest they fall into harm along their course? Are we braving the unknown paths so that those who come after us will not get lost? Are we stoking the fire, sharing our own passions to those whose embers are growing cold? Are we listening to the lessons of those who came before us, learning them, so that we can pass it along to those who are next in line? (Heh. That reminds me of an old song. I am old.)

What does it mean to be a kuya or ate?

If you are a youth, I hope that someday you can proudly stand up and claim that it means you.

And if you are a young adult: hello kuyate!

The KUYATE Leadership: Part 3 of 4

2011-10-29T09:00:00.001+08:00

PART 3: STEPPING BACK

Speaking of kuyas, I do have an older (and only biological) brother. We don’t have many childhood memories together. In fact, most of them were not really nice. But as I reminisce the past, I realize that there were actually a lot of incidents where he made simple yet lasting influences in my life.

One in particular was when as a kid, my neighborhood playmates would hang out at out house to play. Our home then was quite wealthy – we had a lawn that I could truly boast of, and for some unknown reason, that day I was exceedingly arrogant because of it. As I bossed around my friends (using the fact that I lived in that house as my authority), my brother discreetly called me into the house. So I nonchalantly excused myself and went to him.

I don’t remember if my brother hit me. But I do remember how he scolded me: “Just because you own the house doesn’t give you the right to treat your friends arrogantly.” I couldn’t remember the rest, but ever since that day, my whole perspective about hospitality changed.

When my brother was in college, his school organization would have this fund raising booth during the fiesta in Naga City. My dad would coax me to tag along, and my brother would humor the idea good-naturedly (maybe out of fear for my dad). And so one time, I did.

Hanging out with my brother’s friends was both cool and awkward at the same time. It made me see a different side of him (“tao din pala siya?”), especially with how popular he was with girls. And I did feel both embarrassed and proud whenever his girl friends would compare us – and I was chosen as better-looking (Wahahaha! It’s true!).

I think it was at this point where my brother asked if I wanted to watch a movie. Of course! Until I realized it was probably a ploy for him to get rid of me. And which probably was proven by the fact that he only bought one ticket. For a double feature film. Just for me.

I think I was in fourth grade that time. And yes, I never went to a cinema alone before.

What a brother.

To my surprise, I actually enjoyed watching alone.

And so started my lifelong personal career of being a movie fanatic.

Of course, my childhood reminiscence would not be complete with that one amusing incident, where my sister Alyn and I stumbled across his funny stash of clumsily-hid love letters. That finally convinced me that my brother, who I always considered a monster, actually had a heart.

Looking at my own life (and bloody trail of influences), I realize how amazingly simple yet powerful an influence of a kuya or ate can be. Just spending time with a youth can make an impact we cannot notice now. Every action, every word – it all matters.

That’s why being a kuya or an ate is not just a role we play. It is a responsibility. It is a commitment we need to make.

The KUYATE Leadership: Part 2 of 4

2011-10-28T09:00:00.001+08:00

PART 2: STEP UP

Realistically, I didn’t have any idea what it meant to be a kuya. I mean, I’m the youngest of four siblings. My relationship with my brother wasn’t that great when I was a kid. My elder sister was too busy with her teenage puppy loves and the 80’s pop music. As for the other sister? I was too busy competing with her.

It was when I discovered the youth ministry where the meaning of kuya and ate changed for me. While such honorifics were popular in school and the neighborhood, somehow the term felt different inside the church. It felt more real. More sincere. More powerful.

I grew up in the faith surrounded by more kuyas and ates than my peers. Despite being called the youth ministry, half of the time we hang out together with young adults from our church. They would play chess, Scrabble and Word Factory with us. They’d treat us out for snacks (especially since most of us had limited budget). They would tell stories, share jokes, teach tricks, play pranks, sing songs, and sneak off with the church coffee with us (during the service!) They were the most comfortable sight to see inside the church.

Looking back, I see their reflection in my own life and ministry as well. How I treat the youth today seems to be a blend of all the fond memories I have. Yes, those young adults during my adolescence were not perfect Christians. I am not, either. But I feel proud that because of them, I have discovered the joy of being a kuya.

And it’s my turn now to pass on the passion which started with the original Kuya.

The KUYATE Leadership: Part 1 of 4

2011-10-27T09:48:00.004+08:00

PART 1: STEP DOWN

It was a few months back. I came across an online rant. This guy was a bit frustrated. He complained a lot. About them not listening to his advice. About them not heeding his warnings. About them not following his instructions. He used to be a youth leader. Now, he’s a young adult. And new leaders are already in place. But he’s not satisfied.

So I joined in the conversation. I had to point it out: we used to be the youth leaders. We are no longer the leaders. They are.

We miss being the leader.

I’m not against self-help/inspirational books on leadership. In fact, I recommend them. However, whenever we read such books – what fills our imagination? Are we stuck with dreams of standing in front of a crowd? Of being the one who pushes from behind? Of being the one who directs from above? Of being the one who carried the team from beneath?

Why are we so concerned of our position, anyway?

One of my greatest depressions was during high school graduation. It was the time where I realized one fundamental truth about leadership: it’s never permanent. For all the positions I held, I had to accept the fact that it all ends that night I received my diploma. Suddenly, I felt lost. For a short time, I had built my entire identity on the leadership roles I played. Now it’s all gone.

It’s fun being a leader. It’s great to be looked up to with respect. It’s rewarding to plan things and see everything work together, giving glory to God (and yes, we don’t admit that it also boosts our ego). Maybe that’s not the reason we don’t want to let go. But let’s face it: how can others grow if we’re the ones hindering them?

We can’t always be the leader.

But, we can always be a kuya or ate to them.

Stargazing at 4:30AM

2011-10-23T05:04:00.000+08:00

I couldn't remember the first time I gazed up at the night skies. How young was I? How naive or innocent were my thoughts? How long did such a moment last?

I do clearly remember the day I first read about the Stargazer, a nickname for a fictional fairy tale hero. Amusingly, that title never bore any relevance to the actual story. I couldn't even remember the entire plot. But I can still clearly imagine the vague image picture of the scene: a young boy staring at the skies, his mind swirling and overflowing with ideas, yet which is devoid of coherent thought.

Just like a cloudless night sky brimming with stars.

And a cool breeze gently keeping me company.

And a kaleidoscope of memories from various timelines of my life converging on a single thought:

"God, how beautiful are these stars!"

A lot of my life's turning points seem to gravitate around a star-inspired introspection. Like that one boy scout campus camp during my sophomore year, where I had an unexpected heart-to-heart listening to my squad leader.

Or those long nights where I overstayed at a friend's house just enjoying countless conversations that extended until morning.

Or that night during my graduation, where I realized how sad I am knowing that my entire academic achievements and high school reputation were meaningless and soon to be forgotten.

Or those Christmas and New Year's Eves where I try to remember the family I had forgotten.

Or the times where we stayed over at Atoy's house, and I would just sneak away from the YEP gang to go to the roof and just be alone.

Or that night where I, for the first time in my life, did not have a place to stay and sleep - and waited for morning at the garden benches of the Naga City Hall.

Or those nights where I shared my heart to the youth assigned to my group in a youth camp a few years back.

Or that night where I had a fight with a pastor during a youth camp, lost the argument, and found myself broken.

Or that night when I was in a Christian conference in Baguio, and I realized and admitted how lonely I really felt.

Or that night on my first youth camp, where I learned to hide how lonesome I really am.

Or those countless nights where I, as I walk home alone, silently cry and try to strengthen my resolve.

I guess stargazing is God's unique and incomparable way of reminding us how futile and trivial our lives are, how everything we do, invent, trend, and invest in simply fade away, die or just plain get forgotten. I mean, even if somebody invents an app to simulate stargazing, it can never replace or even imitate the sheer limitless wonder of the experience.
Yet,

"When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?" Psalm 6:3-4 NIV

“Show me, LORD, my life’s end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting my life is. You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Everyone is but a breath, even those who seem secure." Psalm 39:4-5 NIV

Oh God. I'm thirty.

But hey, the stars are still as pretty as when You first created them.

Or at least, as I remember them.

The Original Social Network

2011-10-04T01:47:00.000+08:00

In the past few months, social media giant Facebook has tremendously evolved. Or should I say, mutated. It used to be a mere lackluster social network, where throwing a sheep was the best fun I could remember (and still miss). Now, it's become the thriving online social community where everybody should be (Ha! Funny, most of my friends used to scoff me back in 2008 when I insisted them to sign up in Facebook, back when they were all still enamored with Friendster).

Finally, it has transitioned into the obvious next step: commerce (outrightly, not that it wasn't that obvious in the past months). Well, any sociologist could have predicted that happening. I mean, sure – trading started even when communities were relatively small (and simple). But tracking back history, we all know that as civilizations grew, so does the concept of business. Small peaceful societies get dragged into the quickening pace of exciting new ventures. Thy eventually leave behind what used to be the sedentary lifestyle of the rural lands. Major business districts bloated up, and those who lived outside those teeming marketplaces continued to exist in blissful ignorance (And of course, the over-expanding societies as well as the virtual ghost towns eventual collapsed, that's for someone else to write about).

I still remember my childhood in Naga City. Yes, it wasn't really much of an urban area that time - but you should pay a visit to my father's hometown. THAT was rural. But I loved that town just as much then as I loved my own city (or perhaps, even more). There wasn't much to do back then except spend time with my relatives, and as a child it was one of my most pleasurable memories. But then, urban development came to the city. And with it, the wonders of technology, modern society and other youthful ideals. I started getting bored going to my once-beloved rickety home in San Jose, Partido (though there were other factors that contributed to that, too). By the time I was in college, I could not stand staying even for a night with my relatives or even parents.

The blurring speed of how online communication progressed is amazing. Back in high school, we got our kicks from midnight telephone calls that took an hour or until dawn (or maybe two minutes, which was how long a P1.00 call would allow). Then there was the brief craze over ham radios. Then the introduction of the commercial mobile phone (which I didn't get to enjoy until I was already in MetroManila). And of course, the internet.

Ah, emails. It felt like a groundbreaking event. But oh, exchanging emails led to instant messaging - where MiRC and Yahoo Messenger overtook MSN messenger. And yes, LAN games! It finally broke the two/four-player barrier; gamers finally were able to enjoy a game with more buddies! And of course, who could forget the chaotic chat rooms???

(Skipped about online forum threads and discussion boards - because... Because.)

Fast forwarding - we meet Friendster. Ah, that was like the online-version of puppy love. Until it started speaking gibberish, and mangy mongrels made the Friendster experience like a dumpster experience. But wait! There's still a plethora of other social networks that popped up from the cyber-anthropological cesspool! So the network wars began on Twitter, MySpace, Multiply, Plurk, etc.

(In another universe, bloggers continued to blog as they always had – barely noticed by the frisky short-attention-spanned netizens who are often too lazy to read beyond a paragraph. Or less).

Then sometime in 2008-2009, Facebook rose to glory. I couldn't remember if it was the gaming craze, the quiz craze, or the tagging craze which dragged the people in by hordes. But I'm pretty sure that one pivotal event in the Philippines where a lot of people were convinced to join Facebook was after Ondoy struck in 2009.

And again, the rest is history (if you weren't around back then, you probably aren't old enough to read up to this section. Or you've been living in a psychological anti-social cave).

I loved seeing how my circle of acquaintances grew, thanks to social networking. It was a valuable tool for me not only to be understood (which was a rarity) but more importantly, to understand other people. I was able to minister to more young people online that I could have in person. I wasn't a Facebook addict; I was an online minister, a Facebook netizen.

(Debate on defining "addiction" - some other time, unless you really wanna scuffle it up in the comments section hahaha).

Nowadays, I feel a twist in my gut whenever I see a youth preferring to loiter online than enjoy having fun with siblings (well, I guess I admit I didn't enjoy being with ALL of them ALL the time). I'm not talking about Facebook alone; it includes all online habits such as reading mangas, chatting, or playing games. Not that I don't like them. In fact, I would encourage it at some point. But not to the extent where one would exchange the real life, real time human interaction experience for a virtual experience – particularly one the actual humans we need to interact/communicate with are actually just within shouting distance (which, amusingly, seems to have become relatively shorter – even up to a few feet away).

I remember a corny but thought-provoking scene from the movie SpyKids. A kid was bragging about his new spy watch gadget which featured a lot of super cool functions. But it lacked one fundamental feature: it does not tell the time.

Social media is a wonderful human invention. I myself have benefitted much from it. But when a tool ceases to function for its true purpose, why should I continue using it? For the convenience? For the practicality or sentimentality?

I believe in the wonderful potentials of social media. But like any tool, it has capacity to do both good and bad. When Nobel invented the dynamite, he envisioned it for improved mining activities; in fact, when he found out later that people were using it to win wars (specifically, kill people), he was so aghast. The rest of his story led to the Nobel Peace Prize. Likewise, when Einstein successfully completed the theory of relativity, he never realized it paving the way to the invention of the atomic bomb.

Change is inevitable – that I agree with. It applies to everything online (and offline). Why should our choices be any different?

And yet, why shouldn't we revert to how God originally designed the original social network? The manual may seem old and dusty, but like all the classics and vintage stuff - it remains priceless. And best feature: timelessness simply means no stupid updates/upgrades required.

The Social Elusion and the Social Illusion

2011-09-24T02:20:00.000+08:00

After reaching a personal high of having 1,071 social friends from being a member since 2007, I finally deactivated my Facebook account. Whether it will be permament or not remains to be seen. Not that anyone bothers. (Haha drama!) But kidding aside, I could say that my action was probably a by-product on my idea about calculated spontaneity.

Yet, why the rash decision?

So okay – primarily, I got pissed off by Facebook's latest update: the news ticker. Not that it was the first time; I actually had the misfortune of encountering it a few weeks ago when Facebook tested it for an hour. It drove everyone I know nuts - negatively.

I usually don't complain about changes. But there comes a point when you have to realize that some changes just aren't right. So yeah, Facebook was a free service. And I knew for a long time that Facebook is using my personal private information for its profit. But to blatantly disregard my privacy by making the news ticker mandatory was something that just something click in my head.

So I considered leaving Facebook.

But wait: how about all those friends I made there? How about all those important connections I'm maintaining? How about the potential to make an influence to the online crowd within the sphere of my own influence? How about all those random people who would suddenly chat me up, and I get to share about my faith in God?

Wait.

I just celebrated my 30th year of existence. I have lived through my childhood and adolescence with only a Nintendo, pocketbooks and a handful of weird but faithful friends. I have survived the manic chatrooms, Friendster and Multiply eras. Yes, Facebook brought a lot of changes to our current culture – but should that mean I should be entrapped in it?

How do social networks work, anyway? Well, I'm not an expert on social media - but as I played around with the thought, it made me hypothesize about two concepts which I refer to as "social evolution" and "social revolution." As I theorized on Google+:

The theory of social evolution teaches us to passively accept the ever-changing environment. Those who cannot adapt to it are pretty much considered socially dead or inexistent. Thus, the struggle for social domination ensues thru fervent attempts to increase social presence and influence. I, however, believe in social revolution - that which in the face of an unacceptable social paradigm, chooses to be alienated rather than succumb to the virtual social pressure, or when given a chance - cause a social unrest in the prevailing consciousness.

A social evolutionist explains society, how it changes and why it changes.

A social revolutionist questions society, how it can change, and why it must change.

Evolution and revolution. Both depict change - except that the other requires a heart of a radical.

I just started reading Craig Groeschel's book entitled "Weird" – which I chose out of whim and amusement (it's not easy to find a Christian book that's quite unconventional nowadays; besides, the title itself reflects my life statement). And in the few pages I managed to read, it stirred in me the challenge that God had placed in my heart a long time ago.

Being a radical requires having the courage to do something that everyone else is hesitant to do. In fact, being a radical is not simply about 'going against the flow'; it's seeing where the waves bring you and turning back to stay ahead when you sense the changing tides. You can't always explain it by logic; you just need to trust your instincts - or in my case, keep the faith.

Yes, I still am missing Facebook. And frankly - I am tempted to reactivate it. But had I not done it, I would have not learnt to enjoy Twitter, find time to really read a book, or even have the motivation to write this blog.

As for 9gag... ah, that's a different story.

The Story about The Story

2011-08-22T21:54:00.000+08:00

One day, a little boy had an idea. It wasn't brilliant, nor was it unique. Nonetheless, it was his idea.

"I want to write a story!"

And so with youthful passion and childish abandoned, he wrote with all his heart. There was no room for thoughts or even emotions – just a story impatiently bursting on paper.

It took him five minutes.

Excitedly, he ran to his siblings and showed them the story.

"Haha, this is ridiculous," his brother said.

"Oh, this is hilarious," his sister said.

Then he ran to share it with his friends.

His closest friends said, "Well done! It's great!"

But some did say, "Bah, there's no point in reading it anyway."

His best friend took a look, and with a smile, he said, "Lots of typos, my friend."

He even showed it to his crush, who said, "It's nice... but boring."

The next day, he brought it to his teacher.

He got a C+.

But he was happy anyway.

And so soon he forgot about his little story. But little did he know how that his story will have its own story.

A few years went by, or so it felt, when suddenly on his email he received a mob:

"Your idea came from the devil!"

Shocked as he was, he checked the web – and with his mouth agape he browsed through each discussion thread... it seems that a friend posted his story online with his name on it, or maybe someone picked up his crumpled sheet and fancied sharing it as it is.

But it was just a story, no harm or malice meant. He didn't even remembered how the story went.

And so the hatred came like rain... from a simple idea that didn't even gave him any gain (except for the negative fame). Until one night in his bedroom, he heard a knock. It was his father, who heard his obvious sobs.

His father asked, "Mind telling me what's wrong?"

"Nothing much, really." He stupidly lied.

With a sly smirk and a laugh, his father simply sat beside him, and with a gentler, more friendly tone, he asked again. "Really. What's wrong?"

And so the boy lead his father to his story, about the story of a story that made everyone so noisy, and how the story came from being – and how the entire hysteria showed no meaning.

The father silently read some more, smiling a moment here and raising an eyebrow there. The boy twitched and frowned, worried whether his father would be mad or proud... and with teardrops rolling, he remembered all those voices again:

"Haha this is ridiculous!"

"Bah, there's no point in reading it anyway."

"It's nice... but boring."

"Your idea came from the devil!"

Until he realized his father has just finished reading the story.

With weak courage mustered, and with hopeless despair, he heaved a youthful sigh and said, "How was it? Was it really that bad?"

His father looked at him straight, as much as a father yet still a critic. And yet so much more.

Then with a wink, his father said, "So, can I be part of the story?"

* * *

This allegory/story is the result of my frustration over some people who keep posting hate stories / fake origins about planking, DOTA, and other stuff with innocent origins but which people unfairly demonize.

Since I'm tired of ranting, I decided to use my only other weapon left: purposeful writing.

Truth and grace, everyone. Let love prevail to understand.

Frustration Is So Overrated

2011-08-22T17:07:00.000+08:00

Source: http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs51/f/2009/333/d/c/syobon_action__no_help_by_Pegawolf.jpg

Have you ever had that time of your life where you feel like the whole world is against you? Pfft.

Meet Syobon.

Syobon Action is a free Windows game based on the classic Super Mario. But if you think this is just another rip-off from the popular game, wait till you've tried to survive the first stage of this copycat. It is hilariously fun, enjoyably frustrating, yet simply addictive. And yeah, haters quit quickly.

Amusingly, there are a lot of lessons to be learned from this simple game:

1. Never trust the world you live in. Okay, that's an exaggeration. But really – don't. Nothing in this ever-changing world is ever stable. Just ask the stock market people. Or those countless unemployed graduates who enrolled in their respective college courses in the hope that there will be a golden opportunity waiting for them beyond the dreamy diploma.

But just because you can't rely on this world doesn't mean you stop believing. Because...

2. There is always a solution. The fact that you are reading this now proves that every problem you've encountered so far (which, most of them you bemoaned as the biggest problem you ever faced) has been solved, or at least proved a bit irrelevant.

And how have we done that? Simple.

3. Never give up. We all aren't perfect people. While some have the good fortune of making less mistakes (both in quantity and visibility), what's important is that we all reach the same goal in the end. It kinda proves that what you lack in brains, you can make up with sheer guts, perseverance... and of course, experience.

Which brings us to...

3. Just because you've seen it before doesn't mean it won't happen to you. We sometimes have that subconscious idea that looking at our family, friends or some popular biography or life testimony should provide us an ample warning of what to avoid in life. Kinda like a game guide or walkthrough.

Well, somehow that's the point. But that hasn't prevented us from making the same mistakes, right? So what's the point? Nothing. Just keep learning. Why punish yourself needlessly? And yes, even if you keep making the same mistake, remember that...

5. Patience is a virtue. So is being alert. Anger management can only be effective if we can truly learn how to resolve that which stirs our emotions. By guarding ourselves from the triggers and finding ways to confront it, we can turn our negative emotions to productive motivations. Just the same, getting pissed off with the game won't help you get through a tricky part; the best way is always to keep a cool head, and calmly analyze the situation.

But let's be honest: there are points in life where everything we do does get seemingly pointless. Like a proverbial giant. But do we really need to face every monster along our path?

6. If you can't beat the final boss, don't. Beating the game isn't always about defeating the enemy – or maybe I should say, the real enemy that should be defeated isn't the final boss, but the game itself. Just like in life, we sometimes get stuck up trying to find solutions, when the answer is right before us. Like the cliché goes, "Think outside the box." Remember your real goal.

Except when the "goal" you expected leads you to an unexpected ending?

7. Don't expect a princess at the end of every game. Especially when the joy of accomplishment is more satisfying than a stupid, worthless prize. As a person who is highly goal-oriented, I have often felt empty after winning a competition, an argument, or simply finishing a project. I could feel a deja vu over each mental utterance of "Is that it?" and I could even remember depressing nights as I blankly stare at the empty to-do list.

Simply because I expected something else.

Oftentimes, I've had the same struggle with my spiritual walk. There are still moments in my life where I wished my good works would merit me more of God's favor. Blame it on the gaming culture I grew up in – but life isn't that fair. Or is it?

It makes me wonder: Why bother following His will, which admittedly feels impossible a lot of times? Why keep doing good, staying away from sin, and all those religious stuff?

Why do I bother to keep on living, anyway?

So maybe all my extra efforts won't earn me an extra prize from God (like maybe a real lightsaber), but then I remember His promises: eternal life, a crown, and a doggie pat on my head while He says, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

(That doesn't so bad after all. But finding a princess at the next castle doesn't sound so bad, too.)

* * *

If you're skeptical about these, why don't you try it out and find out for yourself? :p

Free download for the game here.

(P.S. Haven't found a version for Mac yet.)

Just Another Radical Monday Morning

2011-08-15T10:32:00.000+08:00

I woke up at 4:30AM with what I remember as a sound of breaking glass. Half-asleep and half-alert, I immediately searched around at what might have caused the sound. After around ten minutes of fumbling in the dark, I shrugged it as probably part of a dream I couldn't recall any longer.

Such incidents have been a weird part of my mornings lately (I recall one time where I was jolted awake at a sound of a man screaming horribly – but I was sure that one was purely imagination.)

And so this morning, I decided to jog.

One of the things I really appreciate about my current workplace and sleeping place (he he) is that they're both a walking distance from each other, and to a certain public park which joggers, walkers and simple time-passers love to frequent. It's a well-lit and well-kept place, and security personnel are around to dissuade any unruly behavior. Though I was quite familiar with the place, it was probably the first time again in many years since I jogged there in the early morning. The somber dawn wasn't spectacular; the lazy breeze wasn't even stirring a leaf; yet despite the lethargy-inducing environment, a silent atmosphere of determination-driven activities somehow permeated against the proverbial Monday clouds.

(And yeah, I saw a really cute girl – which somehow drove me to step up my pace a bit faster.... I wonder if I'll see her again... Scratch that, I need to get thinner again faster before that!!!)

Another thing that I appreciate is the used mobile phone that a kind friend lent to me the other week – since my previous unit finally went to electronic paradise. It didn't have a camera, or infrared or bluetooth; nor does it have a wifi feature or play videos. And I still need to purchase my own SD card. But I am thankful because it has one feature that I really needed for my jogging/walking – a music player/radio. That's because I easily get bored, and having something to listening to helps keep the boredom away (though sometimes, it probably does more damage especially when there's a funny joke or conversation, and I would smile or laugh alone. And yeah, I think there was one girl who really stared at me like I was the creepiest guy she ever met when I suddenly snickered while jogging. I hope I'll never meet that person again.)

But as I was scanning to for some appropriate FM station to tune into (personal experience tip: never ever try listening to emo/romantic/love songs while jogging), I accidentally stumbled across a news program (I forgot which station it was). I was about to dismiss it when a certain news bit caught my attention. And so for one straight hour, I was brisk walking on the early morning news.

For years, I'll have to admit that I kinda lost confidence with how journalism was in the real world. There was a time (specifically: high school) where I thought being a journalist was the coolest dream job I could ever have. But as the inconsistencies and compromises I notice on local TV networks and print media became too much for me, I just resigned myself with movies and comics section. You might be surprised how movies and comics present more truth about society than most headlines nowadays.

But this morning, as I listened to the commentator and laughed at his humorous co-hosts, I realized one thing: against the ever-changing tide of social change and technological advances, and no matter how the radio industry may seem like a bit from the past – there is one thing that hasn't changed with them which I appreciate: sincerity.

I couldn't imagine them faking a live interview as they ask on-the-spot, brazen questions that anyone can easily edit if it was done on TV or newspapers. I couldn't imagine them scripting their emotional outbursts of indignation, of soul searching and social reflections, of impromptu humor, or even the unmistakable hint of sincere condolence over real life stories of sadness and frustrations.

It was raw, full of grammatical nuances, incomplete thoughts, and other countless faults. But it was all real. It was all public service.

As I went home, I realized another truth that was more timeless than the radio: God's word. Sure, most people scoff at it nowadays as just another relic of some medieval time – that the moral principles and ideals it presented was no longer relevant to our generation. Yet, why is it that whenever the world goes wrong, when technologies and civilizations cringe helplessly as nature goes on a tantrum, or when we face storms in our families, friendships, relationships or even in our selves – there's that a unmistakable (but oft denied) longing for a spiritual purpose?

There are so many things that I've come to appreciate, things that I used to take for granted.

A good job.

A good church.

A good family.

Good friends.

(Sometimes, good food and movies!)

And how God uses imaginary sounds for me to get up and enjoy a good morning so I can realize how much there is about life that we can all appreciate.

Good morning! (And I'd appreciate a comment, too!) :3

Everyone Falls in Love (A Stupid Story)

2011-08-10T03:21:00.002+08:00

I couldn't remember how long I was lying on the ground. It felt reassuringly warm. The breeze, though cool and refreshing, chilled through my very soul – to which I reflexively embraced myself as if by sheer instinct I wished there was someone I could hold against the cold. And I realized that at that moment, I was all alone.

Where in the world am I? Am I still in the world?

"Thank God you're half-awake now. Your snoring was horrible." A voice blandly drawled.

I turned around, looking for the source of the adult voice. Instead, I saw a kid. Or at least that's what he looked like. Maybe he was a halfling or a hobbit, an albino smurf, a dwarf or...

The glint from the golden arrow points on his backpack stopped my speculations.

"Welcome to this pit called Love, bro." He said with a sincere grin. "Except, you already knew it... before."

I stared at him blankly. He replied with a knowing sigh.

"Yes, you fell in Love. A long time ago." An awkward pause. "That was a few months ago."

"That's... a long time." I hesitantly agreed. I looked around me, confused by the darkness but clearly perceiving the area. It was a vast space, and as a I gazed up, it was obviously a long drop. There were other people on the ground, too. Some seemed to be murmuring and grumbling, some making creepy giggles. And others were silently crying, too.

"How could anyone survive this fall?"

"Ah, it's not that complicated, really. First you have to understand that this isn't an actual place of existence; rather, it is some sort of philosophical dimension wherein abstract concepts such as love are materialized and realized, and that..."

"Okay, I got it. So it's not real?"

"You mean, you don't believe that love is real?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then it is real."

"But just believing something is real doesn't make it real!"

"Well, you are here right now. Doesn't that make it real?"

I should have remembered Blaise Pascal's famous quote: Le cœur a ses raisons, que la raison ne connaît point.

Bottomline: don't argue.

"So, umm... how did I fall?"

"With someone, of course."

"Like, somebody pushed me?"

"Nope. Like, you were chasing after a girl."

A sharp pain jolted my mind, as a memory of a face and a name flashed. "Oh."

"Remembered her now, eh?"

"Yeah... Now tell me, how do I forget again?" I retorted wistfully. "By the way, how come I felt pain? Aren't heartbreaks supposed to be emotion-based? If pain is in the mind, then why does it hurt when our hearts get broken?"

He somberly looked at me, and said, "Because the source of the pain isn't in the broken emotions, but in our shattered dreams and memories. It's those jagged edges that pierce through our consciousness. Unfortunately, we can't simply pluck them out."

I mused on the thought for a moment, and realized something.

"So why am I still in love?"

He stared at me like I just asked the most stupid question ever.

"I mean, we broke up. She's no longer in love with me. So why am I still in this place?"

He sighed.

"Okay, let's get some things straight: first of all, a breakup doesn't automatically mean you are no longer in love, or don't have it. It's just a decision to end a relationship; as for the phrase 'stop loving' - that would imply that such a 'love' is purely action, which is untrue because we both know that love isn't just action." He lectured.

"Next, have you ever tried getting out?"

I blinked. "I thought people just naturally fell out of this place."

"You must be thinking about hell."

"No, I mean, one can't fall in love again if he hasn't gotten out yet, right?"

"So you think you can fall into Love, then fall out of it, then fall into the same place again? I think you've watched too much Inception." He snorted. "Besides, no one ever falls in Love twice." Pointing at the far side of the wall, he explained. "That's how people get out... usually. And they also take the stairs the second time around."

I drew closer to the wall, curious yet cautious. To my surprise, there wasn't just one but countless stairs winding across the walls, criss-crossing with one another and extending towards the sky.

"Whoa."

He laughed. "I know!"

"Why are there so many stairs?"

"Well, everyone kept building them. They all had their own ideas, so each one created their own steps - whether it's about going out of this place, or stepping back in."

I peered at the countless steps, and smirked. "Well, looks like anyone can actually fall into Love a second or third time." I pointed at several rickety, broken steps.

"Wrong. Nobody tries to go back into this place without friends – they do help in catching someone from falling. And no one makes it out through these steps without determination and focus."

"So why are you showing me these stairs?"

"Because you asked. And I did tell you that it is the usual way out for most people."

"So there's another way?"

"Well, yes and no."

"Can't you just answer me like a normal human being?"

"What makes you think I am human?"

"You're not?"

"Well, this place where most people fall into is called Love. But is it really Love?"

"You mean, it's not real?"

"We already argued on that."

"I mean, is this a false place?"

"I wouldn't say it is false; rather, it's just a part of it."

"But love is love, right? I mean, what's the difference? Would it really matter if there's another place just like this? Would it be even better?"

He gazed up at the distant sky, a mere glimmer in the hole we were in. There was a soft twinkle in his eyes. After a while, he said, "When I was young, I thought the same way, too. When I discovered this place, I thought this was everything.

"Until I found the door."

"There's a door?!"

"Umm... yes. Sorry. Anyway, for some time, I tried all sorts of keys to open it. I tried picking the lock, even mustered a group of able-bodied men to ram it open. We failed."

"Have you tried using your arrows? It works on some RPGs..." I tried to jest. He ignored me. (Maybe he never got to enjoy one when he was a kid.)

"And so, after a long while, I tried the one thing I haven't tried."

"Knocking?"

"Yup. How did you guess?"

"So what happened?"

"The door opened... and beyond it, the world. It was the most amazing view I've ever seen."

I was confused. "I've been in the world before. How can it be so amazing?"

He grinned. "Well, you haven't tried seeing the world from here, haven't you?"

"I'd rather stay here. I might end up meeting her again outside, and see her with someone else..."

I heard him sigh heavily. With a weary voice, he spoke, "You don't get it. I already told you before: Yes, this is a special place that a lot of people are dying to find and live in. And I tell you, a lot of people died disappointed from their self-created false expectations.

"This place is just a fragment. Why settle with this little hole you've fallen into, when there's an entire world created for you to enjoy love?"

I fell silent for a moment.

"Can I go back here?"

He smiled. "Bro, once you go through that door - you won't ever need to."

He walked me towards the door. As I was about to knock, I couldn't resist anymore.

"You're Cupid, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"You're from Greek mythology."

"Roman, technically. They call me Eros back in Athens."

"Why are you here?"

"I found a better way to love. It's my role to tell people about it." He winked and grinned at me, then walked towards the next person on the ground.

I shrugged, and nervously knocked at the door. As the door slowly creaked open, I heard some footsteps behind me.

"Hi, Ron!" A female voice called.

I smiled.

Knock on (A Plank of) Wood

2011-08-08T19:28:00.004+08:00

Almost everyone in the internet community know that planking is old school. But because of recent shifts in social media (particularly the way posts are shared on Reddit, 9gag, Memebase, Tumblr, Facebook and most recently, Google+), we could say that the plank has just been recycled.

Mixed posts and arguments float around the topic: from die-hard plankers trying to outplank one another, to wannabe-creators of new fads like owling and extreme diving, and of course, some religious and racial critics denouncing the practice.

WHAT?!!!

I had some conversations with some youth leaders and fellow adults about the old-yet-relatively-new fad called 'planking.' Some just laughed it off; some didn't know anything about it; others even wanted to try it. And there were a few who believed we should avoid it altogether.

Allegedly, there seems to be several posts claiming that the origins of 'planking' started with the slave trade culture centuries ago. It depicts how black slaves were 'planked' inside a ship to maximize space. And historically, this was true.

HOWEVER, what is erroneous about the article is when it claims that this inhumane practice is the origin of the fad. (Now this is one of the reasons why the internet is not a reliable source of information). Despite the similarities, the origins the current internet meme craze has never coincided with the supposed slave trade stories. In fact, anyone capable of using Google responsibly can verify for themselves on how exactly the planking fad started.

Should we encourage planking? No. There are more fun things to do in this life... but it never hurts to be silly at times.

Should we discourage planking? No. Don't be a killjoy; it's not like they're sinning or breaking the law (except when they plan to do it on some restricted area, or a really hazardous spot). The only time we need to intervene is when we perceive that the 'fun' is not worth the risk.

So what should we do? Just like every teenage trend, it won't last long. So why be anxious about it? As adults – our basic concern and responsibility is to simply look after them. And we can do that by making sure that while they are having senseless fun, we will be there to watch out for them and prevent any accidents.

Planking isn't the first 'mindless' fad to ever get popular. And it won't be the last. Instead of focusing on the surface, why don't we try to dig deeper and understand what drives them instead of thoughtlessly attacking?

I remember one particular fun conversation I had with a good friend. I said, "Hey, the Bible is the original when it comes to planking!" I could almost imagine his eyes bulge at my almost-heretic statement, so I quickly continued. "How does one perform a plank?"

"You lie down flat with your face on the ground."

"Isn't that the same as 'lying prostrate'?"

And so to add more fun, I hurriedly did some keyword search. And come up with these:

"Then once again I planked before the LORD for forty days and forty nights; I ate no bread and drank no water, because of all the sin you had committed, doing what was evil in the LORD’s sight and so arousing his anger." Deutoronomy 9:18

“Neither,” he replied, “but as commander of the army of the LORD I have now come.” Then Joshua planked to the ground in reverence, and asked him, “What message does my Lord have for his servant?” Joshua 5:14

(There were a lot of other verses, but I'll leave that to your imagination.)

And lastly, I said: "Christ died on two planks of wood, right? Wouldn't that mean that He's the greatest planker of them all?"

Well, he didn't sound convinced. But at least he stopped arguing about the subject.

P.S.
(Oh God, forgive me for using Your Word in vain. Should I fearfully plank before You now?) >_<

Threading the Trek of Trends

2011-08-04T02:21:00.000+08:00

Despite being an avid Facebook user with a penchant for trying out various stuff on the web (like Google+ and other sites), I still haven't gotten the hang of Twitter.

"Trending" has become one of the most powerful words in recent years. Also referred to as domino or bandwagon effect, it is one of the most obvious and slightly unpredictable side effects of social media. From celebrities and idols to NyanCat and the meme culture, social media has epitomized the proverbial chicken-and-egg origin paradox.

Was it popular because it was trending? Or was it trending because it was popular?

Nowadays, it's quite tricky to differentiate between the two.

Let's take Rebecca Black's example – particularly, her "Friday" music video. When it was first posted on YouTube, scarcely anyone knew about her. However, as the dislike bar and trolling pressed on, it attracted more viewers to the point that it got more than a million views.

(Unfortunately, the infamous video was already deleted.)

Thinking about it... if the discussion thread, like/dislike buttons and sharing were disabled, would she even be popular, much less noticed? Her apparent fame is can only be blamed to the thousands or millions of online viewers who also spread and trended her video. And ironically, most of these people only did so because her video was popular.

As for Nyan Cat... who wouldn't like an adorable, pixelated kitty with a hypnotic badger-type music background?

And of course, there's Christopher Lao – the hapless victim of 'lapse of information'. In fact, he overshadowed today's headlines: the resignation of Senator Zubiri (but then, we can attribute Lao's apparent popularity to the Pilipinos being tired of roundabout news about politics).

Nowadays, anyone can become famous instantly (and as quickly be forgotten). I think this only leads us to one lesson: It is okay to be funny, to rant, to troll, to make a firm stand – or any form of self-expression. But let us learn to be responsible for it, be accountable for both our accolades and gaffs... no matter how momentary, trivial or even seemingly unimportant our posts are...

Which makes me wonder: are we not trending the Gospel or Christ well enough? But then, social media is erratic and ever-changing; He is not. Or maybe 2,000 years and countless martyrs reposting His story with their lives deserves some sort of recognition as the longest running trend in social history?

What will it take to make people talk about Him again? What does it take for and from me?

Timeless Friendships at OId Cafe

2011-08-01T20:49:00.000+08:00

Took this photo at the Old Manila Café in Dela Rosa – a small, humble coffee shop that I have long wanted to try out. It's a lovely, rustic hangout that feels almost like home (well, at least for someone like me who... misses what a home really feels like).

July 31 had been a long day. Helping out a friend with his engagement proposal was like a walk in the park – on a stormy day. Not that I'm complaining; I enjoyed the challenge of being the 'supporting cast' for the 'protagonist' as he becomes the hero of the day. And the success of the surprise within a surprise idea was worth all the effort (except for some gaffs on my part). And so with a sigh of relief, we left the party venue – and with a sigh of loneliness, I sadly smiled knowing that I'll be walking home again alone... to spend the rest of another weekend on the internet.

"Ron, sama ka sa amin!" I heard a voice call out to me. It was one of my church friends. The gang consisted of Benjamin, Iris, Archie, Faye, Ryan and Charlotte – all paired couples. They were inviting me to join them for coffee at McCafé.

Three couples and a single guy. Talk about being a third wheel.

Since the alternative was another afternoon waiting for some new 9gag post to laugh about, or watch another downloaded movie (which I still did afterwards, anyway), I promised to catch up with them after I drop off some stuff.

Being the only 'single' person in a group is awkward. Nonetheless, I enjoyed observing them (and being the apologetic customer for the ruckus that the three boys were making). Although the price was a bit... pricey, the comfortable atmosphere evoked by the tastefully-done interior design was enough to stir the sentimentality in me.

But what touched me the most was the sincere hospitality and amiability of the shopkeepers. Well, of course – we were customers. And sadly, we were the only ones on that afternoon. Stirring up a conversation with them, I found out that they only had two branches; they said the original shop located in Intramuros had already closed down. Behind their smiles, I could feel a hint of worry mixed with hopefulness; they both loved the shop as much as their own.

I recalled all those times I stayed at Starbucks, back when I was earning more. And in my mind, I counted the times I was annoyed by their uncaring staff (versus the times I had a crush on a female crew, or chanced up the much-coveted sofa sets). Why did I ever wanted to hangout at Starbucks, anyway?

I remember the small coffee shop that my friend Basil introduced to me earlier this year. It was located at the most unexpected (yet sentimental) spot in Naga City: inside the Basilica compound (a prominent Catholic cathedral). It was a quiet, hidden nook that served cheap but satisfying coffee. It was a perfect place for friends to get reacquainted, forget the time – or rewind some stories so we can catch up on each other.

Being the only single guy in the group of three couples, it felt very awkward. But it didn't matter. I knew I was with good friends, despite the fact that this was practically the second time I actually spent time with them. And in my heart, I wished it won't be the last.

The Challenge for New Heroes

2011-07-27T10:01:00.000+08:00

[Caution: Definitely contains LOTS of spoilers. Read anyway!]

Around two years ago, my friends and I were discussing about the possibility of an Avengers movie. I told them that it won't happen without first introducing Captain America. However, the challenge is how to make him relevant to our contemporary generation, and to all races.

I mean, he is Captain America. How more culturally narrow can you get?

Until I saw the movie trailer.

What I love about this movie (and what makes his character different than most) is that unlike other superheroes who found the right attitude after getting their powers, Captain America was specifically chosen to receive the super soldier serum because he had the right attitude.

Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) was portrayed as an ordinary kid. A skinny, talentless boy with only his ideals and determination keeping him on his feet. He was a loser in many ways: he failed the army recruitment interviews several times, he doesn't know how to behave around girls, and not even the smartest person around Brooklyn.

But something about him caught the interest of Dr. Abraham Erskine (Stanley Tucci).

Using his influence, Dr. Erskine got Steve enlisted. Well, the flimsy boy was an eyesore especially to Colonel Chester Philips (Tommy Lee Jones) who was overseeing their training.

In a particular segment of the movie, the colonel and the doctor had a conversation about the candidates for the super soldier program. Agreeing on the point that bravery is the most important characteristic of the perfect soldier, the colonel lobbed a grenade towards the platoon. As everyone scrambled for safety, only Steve rushed and covered the grenade with his own body.

Of course, the grenade was a fake.

In their man-to-man conversation prior to the procedure, Dr. Erskine's somber words reverberated in my heart:

‎"Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing: that you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man."

In several decades of superheroism both in comics and movies, this statement breaks through the norm and challenges me to ask myself, "What does it really mean to be a hero?"

In our society, heroism has become too idealistic yet too shallow. An idealism that makes us dreamy of extraordinary feats, yet too shallow that we brand every good deed as heroism - from picking up street litter to saving kittens.

What does it really take to be a hero?

In the end, it's never about the deeds, or why we did it. Heroism is about what makes us keep doing it, believing it, and fighting for it.

What is it that makes you a hero?

Good Morning!

2011-07-23T09:02:00.002+08:00

I used to wake up with just one simple thought immediately filling my mind: what interesting posts did my friends have on Facebook while I was asleep?

Nowadays, it's 9gag.com

Is it a sign of obsession? Of addiction? Is desiring a good, yummy, filling breakfast considered a psychological or even a social disorder? I think not. The same motivation drives me to seek both a desirable, satisfying morning meal and an amusingly fun brain jolt in the form of a good read, a good laugh or a good idea (and yes, the aforementioned sites often provide me adequately with these).

"Drool ye, and despair at my awesomeness!" ~ sez the bacon to you

We all want to face each dawn, each morning with a smile and an inspiration. Nobody gets excited knowing that it's gonna be another crappy day; however, it is within our abilities to somehow seek out things that will turn our bad moods into something a little bit more positive. Or at least reinforce that vague feeling that something good will happen with happy thoughts (which again can come from what I've already mentioned. Sorry, I can be really narrow-minded at most times.)

And then of course, there's the daily devotion. (Ouch.)

I know it's my Christian duty to supposedly get up each morning and prioritize a daily spiritual devotion of praying and reading the Bible. Unfortunately, after years of being a Christian – I still struggle with the habit (but I still try whenever I can). I just find it easier to do it at the end of the day. But I do remember of a time when my mornings was all about passionately seeking God at 5:00AM, even at 4:00AM. Of days when I wish I could just read the Bible all day long, and just sing with wanton abandon knowing that God doesn't care whether I can carry a tune perfectly.

Where has the passion gone? Have I grown tired and bored about it, or have I just grown older?

I realize that in each morning, it's not a good laugh at 9gag or a good smile at Facebook or even a good digestion that inspires me to face the rest of the day. Any of these can easily fade away in an hour or two. Anything can easily change that good mood into a foul mood.

It is because God is there (whether I forgot about Him or not) to remind me that no matter what comes along the day, He will be here with me to guide and correct me with each moment, each laughter, each tear, each smile, and each bite (yeah, even the unhealthy ones). It is this unconditional, boundless, unrelenting love that reminds me to still dream of waking again each morning seeking only His smile no matter what hues and shades of skies the weather brings in.

Thank you, Lord for this wonderful morning.

Now, what's for breakfast?

Waiting for the Big Wave

2011-07-22T00:26:00.001+08:00

I never dreamt of surfing. As much as I might love frolicking in the beach or pool, I hate swimming – because I never learned how. It's a long story. Instead, let me tell you about Bethany Hamilton, the protagonist of Soul Surfer.

For starters, the actress who played her role was hot.

(Hahahaha! I bet 80% of you guys who read this is already convinced enough to watch this movie ASAP!)

NOW focusing on the movie, it was really based on a REAL Bethany Hamilton. I won't go into details on that, but if you really want to know the real deal, you can check out her story out on Youtube, visit her website, or simply look her up on Facebook!

Okay, enough plugging.

While I wasn't that excited to watch this movie compared to all the big blockbusters lined up until next year, it was only this month that I got to see a good copy of it on the torrents (SORRY! I COULDN'T FIND IT ON ANY STORE HERE! *whimper*). And like the big wave, it was worth the wait. (But I'll really try to buy a legitimate copy when I see one around here!)

Watching the entire film, I could feel the challenging dilemma of the producers and directors: how do you tiptoe between making it into an interesting movie, while staying true to the message of both Bethany and the Gospel? Though a lot of scenes and dialogues felt a bit forced, thankfully the focus on God's hope without being too preachy somehow earned the movie a good 50% rating from RottenTomatoes. This is a huge progress compared to Facing the Giants' 13% rating and Fireproof's 40% rating, and To Save A Life's 32% rating. This significantly shows that stories with strong Christian foundations are slowly improving in terms of reaching out and appealing to the general viewers.*

I'm truly grateful that for the past decades, Christian values have been evident in many of the good movies. In fact, I've read somewhere that a lot of the most acclaimed movies were inspired by the Gospel. Unfortunately, not all 'Christian' movies fare well in the industry.

I wonder how Christian blogs and our contemporary Christian literature will fare in this generation?

*Data accessed on July 22, 2011 12:15AM

A World Full of Wonderful Crap

2011-07-20T18:09:00.001+08:00

Source: CNN

I feel guilty that for a long time, my daily morning routine mostly involved checking out Facebook, 9gag.com or new manga chapter releases – even to the point where I often forget about my daily Bible devotions. So to cut myself some slack, I've been trying to revive my old habit of reading the news lately. And came across this article about reinventing the toilet bowl.

Talk about crap.

Seriously, I haven't given the thought of toilet innovations that much consideration before. I mean, it's literally crappy. Or is it? I found myself surprised as I read through the story - how a simple invention like the toilet bowl has saved lives and changed civilization! As Robin would exclaim, "Holy crap!"

[I had to restrain myself from blurting a religious joke at this point]

So the challenge was presented: create the bathroom throne of the future. Naturally, the frustrated scientist in me scrambled greedily for ideas - like a poop demoisturize / dehumidifyer and compacting system and other stuff which, unfortunately, has already been
suggested long before.

And so there was only one thing left for me to do immediately: philosophize about... crap. Which means, I get to blog again.

Thinking about it, my blog feels like a proverbial, personal, portable potty pedestal. I get to unload all my crap on it without giving a care (unless it's really a disgusting crap), flush them into the flow of mainstream web community, and feel light, clear and hungry for more. But then, is that all there is to blogging? Should I desire to dream for something better, like being a moral propagandist that will revolutionize the world? Yes, the pen is mightier than the sword, and it's the mouse that earns the cheese. Yet, why bother with such lofty ideals when it's already working for me?

Man, of whose race I belong to, has always been full of crap. Yet around the world, innovators are dreaming of harvesting the potential wonders of it. Will it finally solve the energy crisis? Will poop fuel be able to replace fossil fuel?

Will the blogs that we write ever make an impact?

Finding the Write Company

2011-07-19T22:01:00.002+08:00

I am not an otaku. But I admit that I am a fan of Naruto, Bleach, One Piece, Fairy Tail, Mahou Sensei Negima, Rurouni Kenshin, Samurai Deeper Kyo, RAVE, Dai No Daiboken, Eyeshield21, Black Cat, Full Metal Alchemist, Psyren, Full Metal Panic, Yugi-Oh, The Breaker, Bloody Monday, Eden No Ori, Death Note, The World God Only Knows, Kekkaishi, Katekyou Hitman Reborn, Prince of Tennis, Soul Eater, D.Grayman, Noblesse, Shaman King, History's Strongest Disciple Kenichi, Busou Renkin, Code Breaker, Gamaran, Break Blade, Detective Conan, Hunter X Hunter, Yureka...

And of course, there's Bakuman.

At first glance, this particular manga may not seem that interesting. I mean, a manga about a mangaka (or manga author/artist) in a quest of making a manga that can be turned into an anime? (Talk about Inception hahhaha!) But the charm of the story is how human nature and its ideals somehow unravels with each chapter.

Particularly in the latest story arcs, the central theme resonated with the message of rival friendships. It details about the simple complexity the rival/friend/peer relationship among mangakas, and how they continuously spurred one another (both intentionally and unintentionally) to become better in what they do.

I am a very competitive person; however, I do not consider myself particularly driven by competition or rivalry. Rather, like the protagonists of Bakuman, there is a subconscious inspiration that encourages and challenges me to strive beyond what I am comfortable with, and to strain myself towards achieving my own pinnacle of excellence.

It reminds me of this Bible proverb:

"Just as iron sharpens iron, friends sharpen the minds of each other." Proverbs 27:17 CEV

Having attended the recently-concluded Christian bloggers fellowship (for background story, read Randy's narrative about it instead), somehow I thank God that the dying ember of my passion for writing somehow got reignited - not just because of the challenge of being 'one of them', but more of the desire to keep up with every one of our fellows. I'm glad I was able to be there at the FEBC thingie, and I do hope to have more crazy coffee conversations with everyone :D

To the rest of the Christian bloggers, LET'S KEEP DOING WHAT IS WRITE! XD

Free Donuts!

2011-07-18T23:41:00.006+08:00

Sometimes you just have to admit that your blog sucks. I mean, what have I been blogging about all these years? Unlike my friends Mights (who runs Transformational Leadership) or Stef (the infamous owner of God Spotting), my blog seems... pointless.
Looking at my own life, I get even more depressed: at the age of 30–

I don't have a savings account;
I wasn't able to finish college;
I'm just a bedspacer;
I'm overweight;
My earnings are... not what it used to be...
and I'm still single (well, that's not exactly negative... isn't it?)

I hate celebrating my birthday not just because it reminds me that I'm really getting older, but because it makes me reminisce of happier years... years when dreaming and achieving were like Siamese twins... until the painful realities of life tore it apart...

But then, thank God for the free donuts.

Donuts. Since when did I liked donuts? Yet, I find myself thanking Him for it - despite the fact that I am trying to be serious about losing weight. Was it a blessing or a curse?

I woke up this morning knowing it was going to be another ordinary day. There was no occasion, no cause for celebration. Yet, a sudden thought pierced my mind.

Wouldn't it be nice just to be thankful for the heck of it?

So I tried it out. I even posted about it on Facebook. A lot of people liked it. Some even commented about it. I replied with my most shallow but honest responses (yes, the yummy breakfast did help set the mood). And that's when challenge began.

Expressing something because you genuinely feel that way is one thing. Making a feeling genuine in its expression is another. While I've experienced worse days at work than today, what I decided to be my attitude for the day ended up into a personal struggle. Why am I trying to be excellent in my work? Why do I bother staying here when I can apply for a job that pays better? Why do I have to keep up with my officemates' attitudes? Why skip my lunch over a deadline? I was so frustrated with a lot of things that I almost gave up the idea of attending the Christian bloggers fellowship initiated by the FEBC (uyyy plugging! XD), due to the fact that I was still rushing a deadline at 6:30PM (and the venue was in Ortigas!).

But what I didn't expect was a few simple words my boss said after I finished the last deadline for the day: "Thank you for doing the project."

He didn't have to say it. He was the boss. He pays me my salary. Yet he humbly thanked me for the work I did.

Thank you, Lord, for reminding me why I chose this humble company over those who can offer me so much more.

P.S.
On hindsight, the donut wasn't really free... I had to spend approximately P40.00 for it... but hey! Meeting fun fellow bloggers was worth the extra calories!

2011-07-11T11:18:00.001+08:00

I just came across an article about Google +'s move to delete private accounts by July 31. Well, a social network made of private accounts is not a social network; it’s either an underground cult, or just a social den of anti-socials (which in itself is a paradox)… I think the whole point of social networks is to be public – if you preferred privacy, why bother signing up in the first place?

Now, controlling the information you reveal or place in the first place - that's a different topic. http://bit.ly/nuiv2h

2011-07-06T23:43:00.001+08:00

Our mini-series on ChurchNOW (entitled 'Keep the Change!') just ended. Realizing this made me feel a bit relieved; yet, at the same I felt nostalgic and sad. There was so many ideas I wanted to talk about on the topic... but then, I guess that's why blogs were created.

What does it mean to keep the change? Is it about enjoying fringe benefits with no strings attached? Or is it about having a changed lifestyle? What if it means living a consistent lifestyle of change?

Change is constant - that's what people believe. But sadly, change isn't always progressive: some live such changes like a yoyo, a see-saw, or the proverbial cliché of the wheel of life. But change can be something more than just a cycle. Change can have velocity - not just a Brownian movement, but a sense of purpose and direction.

Intentional change. Are we ready for it? In a society that endlessly begs for it, why don't we spare them some real change? http://bit.ly/nob7Me

2011-07-06T00:01:00.001+08:00

It's just a few days away from our Single Adults retreat when I stumbled on this social network. Cool! Same title!

I kinda like the concept of this network - amplifying ideas, thoughts, passions, interests. Even friendships. More than just connectivity, it promotes intellectual intimacy (thank God, I won't be seeing any online romantic mush on my streams here!).

But more than brain connection and amplification, I dream of a socially relevant faith: where a simple hope can influence and change a generation, where a simple voice can rally a revolution, and where a simple step can lead a march towards a better future.

What's there to amplify in me? http://bit.ly/iFf4Fc

How To Understand Graphic Designers/Artists & Other Creative People

2011-05-19T21:35:00.005+08:00

Just another day. A fellow designer chatted and ranted again about her client. Not that I'm bored with her stories; negative emotions are as strong a fuel to the brain as a good laugh.

But talking, chatting and listening (yeah, I just realized that one can actually talk and chat without listening to the other person) with friends from the creative profession made me wonder: why is it so hard for other people to get our point?

Here are some of the common rants on my mind:

1. Yea, so maybe ideas do grow on trees.

But have you ever seen a tree grow overnight, much less with a snap of a finger? I get easily annoyed by people who suddenly pops up into your life, asks for a good design concept - then complains after one hour, all he gets are pencil sketches.

While it is true that in our world today almost everything is instant, have you ever taken a moment to stop and wonder how it all came to be? Like, how many months and years did it take for the idea of instant coffee to be conceptualized, actualized and marketed? Or how long did it take to build a fast-food joint? Everything "instant" that we enjoy today were merely products of a long, stressful, creative process... and those ideas aren't instant either. If it was, then Jesus wouldn't have performed a miracle at the wedding in Cana; they could have used instant coffee or soda dispensers instead.

2. Mind-reading is not part of the gift package God gave us.

Here's what gets to my nerves the most: most people just don't get it! Just because You can imagine it doesn't mean we can picture it. Yeah, we may seem to attempt employing basic psychological skills along with pseudo-advanced data analysis while fiddling around our heads with our virtual vault of imaginary clip arts and font styles...

But NO. We are normal human beings, not the X-men or whoever superhero you can imagine saving you from aesthetic suicide.

But like normal human beings, we have:

a good pair of ears to listen to your concept and patiently identify the important points sans the long, unnecessary, superfluous introduction which may or may not include a complete history of the universe;
a good pair of eyes to tell you if it won't look as great as you think it is; and
a good set of teeth to chew you out when you stubbornly insist (though sometimes our peace-loving, pacifistic side influences us to grit our teeth instead, and choose the path of sacrifice - with our sanity at the altar)

When all else fails, communicate using stick figure drawings. We all love stick figure drawings.

3. Intentional distraction is an essential part of the creative process.

Machines overheat and gets worn down. Living cells age and die. And creative minds... just stop being creative. People call it writer's block, or artist's block or just plain laziness. It's a common curse we share - with great [brain] power comes great lethargy. In order to move an immobile object, one must exert an amount of force greater than the mass in order for it to move - the same law applies to the creatives, which I hereby refer to as the Inertia of Creativeness.

Here are my postulates:

a) The amount of fun prior and during the execution of a design added with the mood* level, divided by the number of hours spent working on it, and multiplied by positive reinforcement (a.k.a. moral support, encouragement, benefits, free food) is inversely proportional to the amount of creativeness spent**.

*Note: Moods can be positive or negative. Integers apply in the calculation.

**Creativeness can never be lost; just mismanaged, misguided, misinterpreted, or simply missed.

b) A mind in motion needs little or no external motivations in order to experience and acknowledge fun. A creative mind often takes pleasure in the creative process itself. However, there are certain factors that causes friction in the process, thereby affecting the velocity of the creative mind. Such factors are:

irritation - may be caused by superiors or fellow team members who fail to communicate properly their expectations
undue pressure - sudden deadlines or multiple tasks are the common culprits

c) A mind at rest is different from a mind at sleep. In fact, it would be more appropriate to call it a mind in limbo. But for context's (and consistency's) sake, let's stick with 'at rest'. Thus settled, in order to set a mind at rest into motion once again, one must be able to adequately apply enough force or pressure, which can be both external and internal:

External force/pressure include reading, watching movies, doing hobbies, playing games, going hiking, bonding with pets, doing photography, etc. These are stuff that allows the brain to subconsciously work, feeding on the slow but steady amount of inspiration they can derive from the varied actions and experiences they can enjoy.
Internal force/pressure is a more difficult way - as it involves an introspective struggle within one's own mind (yes, every creative mind has at least one alter ego to keep himself/herself sane. Yes, SANE.) This process is essentially important when embarking on a long term project, or revisiting one that has been abandoned.

4. Our eccentricities are but a paradox caused by the frustration of being misunderstood by people.

Creative people are often trapped between the overabundance of thoughts to communicate, and the inadequacies of mortal/human communication. While many are blessed with friends who simply resigned to their fate and accepted their creative friends with open minds, others are not as... fortunate.

And so we vent out through fashion, poems, doodles, cooking, blogs, Facebook posts, tweets, photoshop pranks, or best-selling novels. Milder (and lazier) expressions are evident with Youtube visits/viewings, excessive manga reading, obsessive koreanovela watching, and the likes.

And yeah, NyanCat still rocks. Even after watching it countless times.

* * *

5. [will add idea later here]

And lastly... Yes, procrastination is sometimes a good source of serendipity.

New Beginnings with Revelations

2011-04-25T00:40:00.003+08:00

It's funny how, as a child, I always thought that the Pilgrim's Progress was part of the Holy Bible. It started one afternoon where I was watching television, and they were airing an animated film about it. Around the middle of the movie, the electricity went out.

By the time the power went back on, another show had already began. I was chagrined. I had to know the ending!

And so the next time we visited the local Christian bookstore, it was the first book I looked for. I particularly grabbed the illustrated copy - or should I say, comic version. For several days, I read it over and over again, enjoying the fantastic imagery drawn across the pages, my 5-year old mind vividly recreating the surreal sceneries inside my own world. As most books and literature do eventually, I grew tired of the drawings. I never knew what happened to the book afterwards, nor can I recall the exact story. That goes pretty well with almost all my other childhood memories.

It was not until a few years later that I remembered that book. I was staying at our old home, now dusty and desolate. There was nothing much to do, after all, as I spent my days in solitude in the literally empty living room. Amusingly, I was the only living being in it. And I needed something to entertain myself, or maybe just to remind myself that I exist at all.

I remembered the story. But I only had the Bible. Wasn't the Pilgrim's Progress about the Bible? This line of thought, drew my curiosity. I had to confirm. What progressed was a series of days of a childish quest for a story - and despite failing in my attempt to locate where the Pilgrim's Progress was to be found in the Holy Bible, I unearthed more interesting stories that preoccupied my loneliness. But none had grabbed me more than the Book of Revelations (and yeah, I got tired of reading it afterwards, so I turned to the history books later on and got enamored with 1 & 2 Samuel, 1 & 2 Kings, etc. Beats the Arthurian romances, hands down).

I felt shaken awake from a long dream when someone suddenly sent me a message about the end times. I don't consider myself a skeptic, nor do I think of myself as a fanatic. Let's just say that I got tired of all the information. I enjoyed the book of Revelations because it made my imagination soar, plain and simple. And yet, here I am confronting myself about it - or maybe I already did, subconsciously, when I came up with the Extreme Calamity Theory I whimsically wrote about after Ondoy...

Do I really believe the end times? Or am I just afraid to face it?

Last night, I forced myself to stay up late until I actually finished re-reading the ancient book.

And remembered the fear. Not of the end of the world, because the Book of Revelation never felt scary for me. It was a book of hope, a book of promise... a book of something wonderful that will happen after all these troubles have passed.

No, what scared me was eternity. Amusingly, what I felt was fear that I would get bored of living the rest of infinity doing the same thing, reading the same stuff, and living the same way.

It was a big lie.

The book of Revelation did not only reveal what will surely come to pass in the future, it also revealed what was hidden in my heart for so long. Sure, the terrible accounts of God's wrath described there are truly worrisome. But there was a peace that only those who has faith can feel, a peace that amidst all such earthly pains, God exists. God cares. And God has a bigger plan, a bigger idea, and a bigger story than I can ever imagine.

So now I've re-read the spoiler script. Now, Lord - I'm ready again for the role I need to play.

Wise Foolishness of a Procrastinating Obsessive-Compulsive... is not the topic in this post.

2011-02-17T14:58:00.000+08:00

I'm a guy of simple pleasures. Sure, I haven't won in the Philippine Lotto, or any raffles ever since. But I take pride in the fact that I do win some freebies from time to time - like the time Ayala had a slogan writing contest (I actually had 3 entries - two of which I used my friends' names. And both of the entries under their names won - free Ayala GCs. The entry in my name, unfortunately, did not). There was also a couple of free movie ticket I got for the premiere showing of Predators (which I also had to let go due to conflicts of priorities/commitments).

Until finally, I got something I can finally enjoy for myself. Yes. A free copy of Readers Digest! Weee! But why am I so excited over it? Simple - it's a big chunk of my childhood memories! I remember summers where I would just dig up copies from way back in the 1960s (or even earlier), and discover about forgotten stories and cultures. It's one of the most important influences in my enthusiasm towards literature - and even dreamt once to be a writer for it. But alas, I'll have to settle by being a contributor on the online discussion threads for now :p

Here's the couple of replies I sent in a particular discussion which rewarded me with the mentioned prize:

[From http://www.facebook.com/ReadersDigestAsia]

Its time for a little spring cleaning! We've just shifted our office, so my desk is currently feeling so empty. Any ideas on what to do? Most creative and fun suggestion gets a copy of Feb issue from me ! =)

[MY REPLIES:
1) PC at the round corner? not a bad idea - except get rid of those document holders behind it! IT'S UGLY. Place them at the edge of the desk (but not where you can accidentally shove off, unless there's a trash bin to catch them :D).

2) Me...dicine bottles within arm's reach is a nice idea, but equally unsightly. Use your drawers for that - I see one under your desk.

3) Leave a really neat space beside your pc - ideally the left side if you use the pc mouse with your right hand. This gives you good clear area for writing, thinking and doing anything that should not be distracted by the computer.

4) Snacks & drinks on the right side (near pc mouse) are not bad. But do keep a cup/glass holder on standby. Also a pack of tissue (or tissue holder) in the same area. Trust me. You can also place emergency/sanitation stuff there like hand sanitizers, alcohol (not the potable kind), etc.

5) If you can add a shelf, place your books there. If not, get a book stand. Or improvise with anything heavy. Stacking them horizontally may convenient, but it will cause you hell as it gets higher. And believe me, it will :D

6) Phone within reach is good, but do you pick it up with your right hand or left?

7) Get a little box or any holder for small stuff/trinkets (flashdrive, clips, etc). A coffee mug can do (it's also good for holding pens :D)

8) in front of the clear area, put up a whiteboard, corkboard or dartboard. THIS IS NOT FOR OFFICE RELATED STUFF >:D Use it for fun ideas ;) What that is, you'll discover along the way. Just post anything fun there - stuff you pick up, thoughts you think up, whatever. Keeps you connected with the world, reality, life and your own little creativity :p
9) Contrary to instinct, DONT USE THE SPACE UNDER YOUR DESK as a mini-storage room. If anything, use small cabinets (like the one I see on the right of the picture), mini tables, racks... BUT NOT BOXES. Point is - it should be something yo...u can easily clean and keep neat. Giving more room even for your feet actually helps you work more efficiently and happily ^_^

If anything, sneak in a throw pillow for your feet to waddle in :D

Having pets may be nice but not really advisable.
1) Rodents/marsupials may be small, but they do leave behind... droppings. With centralized airconditioning, these can be quite unsanitary/unhygienic, as it will only hasten its drying - whic...h leads us to dried droppings, which becomes office dust. The rest... is up to your imagination.

But I admit, they are cute & stress-relieving.

2) Fish on a fishbowl/glass? Quite safe - unless you're a klutz. Water and documents/electronics are not really friendly. Opposites do attract. Remember Murphy's Law very well :)

* * *

Epilogue:

Despite the sincerity of the opinions this blogger had when he posted those comments, until now he has yet to practice it on himself - to this date. As of the moment, he blankly and smugly stares at the chaotic order of his desk coupled with an organized mess of a makeshift bulletin corkboard, procrastinating the pressing need to clean up as he instead sneaks a peek at the still-unfinished reading of the free RDA copy...

TheRadical Origins: What's In A Name?

2011-02-07T14:52:00.002+08:00

I just finished visiting/disturbing the ol' high school alma mater, University of Nueva Caceres. Though I still feel some resentment towards the administration/school system, there are two things about the institutions that warms up fond memories towards it.

Yes, memories of friendships - both among my peers and teachers.

But I'll save that for some other time. Along with reawakened flashbacks of various antics, escapades, and teenage bravado/passion/freakishness. Hopefully I'll have a camera on my next visit...

So anyway, where was I?

I woke up late today - way later than what I intended. I was planning to visit UNC at 9:00AM; however, I got up at 10:30AM. But since it was a mere 5-minute walk from the hotel, it wasn't much of a problem. Arriving at the campus gates, I still couldn't get used to the cordiality of the guards - maybe because I got traumatized by the school security during our time. Or maybe they just treated "guests" differently from students? Hmm.

What struck me first was an old monolithic light grey structure near the campus entrance. The almost 13-year old edifice still proudly bore its time-aged message of "Non scholae sed vitae", and for a moment, I felt a pride that I had long forgotten - the pride of being a UNCean.

Yes, being a UNCean meant a lot to me. I started my schooling at the Saint Joseph School in Naga City, but though I have nothing against SJS, being a student of UNC was my first attempt to aspire. It was my first step into being a radical... but how did I start with that pseudonym?

Flashback to school year 1995-1996. Yup, my high school sophomore year. In many ways, it was among the most interesting years I ever had. But there's too many stories about it, so I'll focus on what's important now.

Like, where did 'the radical' came from?

Simple. Algebra class. Thanks, Ma'am Niebres!

Amusingly, during that time, I was enamored with our 4-inch thick Webster's Collegiate Dictionary. So every time I encountered a curious term, I looked it up. And so I stumbled across an alternate definition to the mathematical radical. Note that in the 1990's, radical wasn't exactly positive. But nonetheless, I made it my own - vowing to change the way the world thinks of radicals.

But why did I bother thinking up of such a kookie pseudonym. Well, a backtracking the timeline a little bit, during our sophomore year - we had this rave about riddles, code names and coded alphabets. I used a lot of monickers then - from the classic, and the downright embarrassing. Two of my favorites then were 'Phantom' and 'Spectre'. I'll explain that more on another blog - as these can be best explained in the context of 'Casper' - another loooooong story. (And to my old high school classmates - don't react immediately. Save it when I do write the blog about it.)

So what's in a name? I sometimes wonder why I hold on to something I thought up years ago, but now I realize that it is an essential part of who I am today - connecting that idealistic child in me when I was young, to the stargazing/star-chasing man I am today. It's a name that bridges my forgotten dreams to my life-long goals. And as a writer, it was the genesis of my written expressions.

A Snail Beat Me To Home

2011-02-05T13:53:00.001+08:00

AFTER ALMOST A MONTH OF DELAY, I finally fulfilled a simple promise with myself: to visit my parents in Bicol.

For most people, it might not seem like a big deal. But for me, it is. The last time I got to visit them was almost exactly a year ago, right after the New Year of 2010. I was supposed to travel during the Christmas vacation of 2010, but due to some unforeseen events, I had to postpone it. Until now.

I was hesitant at first. I just started with my new workplace late in December 2010. And frankly, I had some difficulties with my personal finances. But I pushed through, not only because I wish to rebuild in myself some sense of palabra de honor. I had to realign my faith in God… a God whom I believe is in control of my family, my finances, and my life.

Go Home As If I’m About To Die!
I do confess that what did persuade me to really plan for it was a simple incident in January 2011. My mom, who has been paralyzed and bedridden since 2007 due to a stroke, was rushed to a hospital due to a seizure. While the whole panic (on my part) lasted overnight, my anxiety was more prolonged. What if I came visiting too late? What if I don’t get to see my mom before she goes home to Christ? I’ve had enough regrets to struggle and live with, and frankly I didn’t want to add another. Amusingly, such thoughts were largely an influence from a manga series I’ve been reading entitled Katekyou Hitman Reborn, with its signature flame of dying will. Since I didn’t have the dying will bullet (and I’m not brave enough for one), I made up my mind and planned for a family visit instead.

With a wishful prayer, I mustered up some strength to talk to my Australian employer. Just after two sentences, he readily told me it’s okay. I didn’t even had to explain.

Thank God for giving me such an understanding boss.

The problem was that my meager salary was going to be a challenge. I already asked for a cash advance just to help me survive until our monthly payday. When I received my first (official) pay, I knew I just had to buy my bus tickets in advance – before I unwittingly spend it on something else. Looking at what’s left of my salary (and with ZERO savings), I knew it’s gonna be Faith 101 and Budgeting 101 all over again…

The next challenge came with my work. The week of my departure was unexpectedly busy, and I had to spend nights trying to finish everything. Not that I needed to; it was my boss’ policy not to work overtime. In fact, he told me just to endorse to him whatever projects I didn’t finish before I leave. But I guess my own sense of gratitude made me duty-bound to make him a bit happier by completing the projects. At least that way, they’ll miss me more in a positive way. And less in a negative way.

Running Full of Time
The day of my departure was a drift. And by drift, I meant like the one in racing (see Initial D or The Fast and the Furious 3). Despite the severe lack of sleep due to inhuman will to work out all the deadlines, as well as troubleshooting a troublesome gadget, I was able to look decent for an important visitor at the office, perform some rush prints with minimal glitches, pack my traveling bag during lunch break, and do some last minute clean up on my work table.

I was planning to leave at 5PM, explaining that I was hoping to avoid the commuter congestion at the MRT. My boss advised me to leave before 5PM. Talk about abounding grace!
I barely managed to escape the onslaught of commuters. Lugging around an overloaded backpack and a bulging duffel bag in an after-office human traffic is not a simple feat, especially in Metro Manila. Plus the occasional awareness/alertness necessary to discourage any criminal attempt. By 5:20PM, I safely arrived and deposited my traveling bag at the ticketing office in Cubao, and headed off to Ali Mall to meet up with my friend, Ptr Ronald Molmisa.

Ptr Ronald is the author of Lovestruck, a simple book about love that aims to reinstill among the youth/teens a moral sense based in Christian principles. I got to know him back in 2010 in a youth congress by PCEC-NYC. Anyway, I met with him to got several copies of his book – which I planned to share with the youth of WIN-Bicol. But he surprised me by giving 10 copies for free (and a pin, too!) – and a free dinner, too! I was overwhelmed by his generosity, knowing that he’s not that affluent. God bless him so.

By 8:30PM, I was onboard the Isarog Line, torturing myself with Dwarfina on the bus TV. The travel itself was boring. I arrived in Naga City at 4:45AM, transferred to a shuttle van which traveled to Sabang. Before 7AM, I was at San Jose. Despite the countless visits to this place, I still can’t get used to how seemingly unchanging the place feels (except for the Buy-1-Take-1 burgers which now sprouted near the Municipal Hall). I found out later that there was in fact some progress: the government building now has wi-fi signal. Ahuh. I’ll have to figure out a way to tap into that… when I get back someday.

A Day At A Snail’s Pace
I had a cute welcoming committee right at the gate of my father’s ancestral home: a full-grown golden snail, lazily squirming its way through the early morning drizzle (wish I had a camera!). I momentarily gazed at the green expanse, breathing in the familiar scent of the garden. And looking out for dogs. As much as I love them, I know too well how they react to strangers.

Good thing that there was only one, which seemed to remember me from my visit a year ago. Or maybe it was just too lazy to greet me with a snarl.

Seeing my parents and brother again after almost a year felt… ordinary. No hugs, no tears. No profuse kumustahans. We had our simple breakfast, and I got tucked myself at a guest room. The next time I opened my eyes, it was already lunch.

I spent the whole day away from the laptop – despite the occasional pangs to open it. To my delight, I found a neat stack of Reader’s Digest. It reminded me of my childhood - flipping through copies as old as my parents, trying to rediscover forgotten stories and cultures. Before I knew it, it was already late afternoon. Gathering old photos wasn’t as simple as I hoped, though. There wasn’t much to find – and with a sigh of regret, I remembered all those photo albums that were lost in the flood back in 1993.

By the time I realized it, we all had retired to sleep. And for the first time in a long while, I tucked myself to bed at 9:30PM.

February Fever

2011-02-01T07:29:00.002+08:00

So it's February already. Yippee.

I've been enjoying my new work so far. I have a really cool boss who actually discourages me to do overtime work - and lets me stay at the office just to hang out and enjoy the free wifi. I even get to play around with the office DSLR - an Olympus E520, with an external flash that I'm still learning how to use. And best of all - the office is just a few blocks from where I currently live.

And still, I find myself with little or no social life.

For loners (by choice or fate) like me, February is probably the next most lamentable month - second only to December. In fact, the popularized acronym S.M.P. (which stands for Samahang Malalamig ang Pasko) found a new form as Samahang Malalamig ang Pebrero.

While I avoid reminiscing on my happier Februaries, it does makes one wonder what the so-called love month's all about. Suffice it to say that I had a lot of... umm... memorable Februaries. Being a hopelessly idealistic romantic idiot that I am since I was a kid, I could remember my first attempts for Valentine romance - which was, of course like most other boys, during grade school. I would habitually wake up very early on Valentines morning just to buy flowers and secretly deliver it to the home of my crush. And since my ole' alma mater celebrated its foundation day through a traditional uber-early alay lakad which usually started at 5AM, you can just imagine how early I should be.

But anyway, nothing good ever came out of it.

I do wonder if I really suck at romance after all.

Yet, is love all about romance? Is it all about cheesiness, of dating, of having someone to hold your hand, or dedicate a love song to? Is it all about having someone to devote your poems, text messages, Facebook status quotes, and everything else trivially passionate?

I'm not being bitter. Lonely maybe. Or even melancholic. But through all my failures, through all the simple memories I gathered along the years, I progressively realize that there is something more about love that goes beyond what the world says and claims it to be. True, I also long to someday find someone I can cherish and hold, and grow old with. And true, I do wish to someday have a family of my own.

But that doesn't mean I don't have love. Nor have I not learnt it yet.

Love isn't just a season. Or an occasional whim.

And being single is not an excuse to think that February's gonna be cold - because the fact is, you can choose to give love instead. So stop looking for love! God already gave it to us - and maybe He's just nudging you to go out and share it with everyone else (and who knows, a little love from you can warm up someone's heart to you!).

Have a warm February, everyone - especially to my single friends! Don't be cold: what are group hugs for, anyway??? XD

* * *

And yeah, I might as well plug for our Single Adults Ministry's pre-valentine activity... In case you don't have a place to share that love inside you, why don't you join our single adults on February 4, 2011? Check out the image below for details, or visit our Facebook account!

(And yeah, anyone wanna buy Valentine cards from me???) XD

Ramblings of a Young Old-Timer

2011-01-20T09:25:00.001+08:00

They say that reminiscence is a sign of old age. Now that I'm fast approaching the age of 30, I can't help but agree with it.

I still remember my childhood years - when the television set had knobs instead of buttons. Not that I watched it in monochrome; that was my older siblings' memories. Back then, the family computer is actually a game console. I fondly remember the day my dad brought home a Nintendo, and how we all got into it - except for my brother and mother.

Amusingly, it was my dad who was most addicted to it. There was this Japanese story game which totally hooked him. He was so into it that he even make blueprints of the maps, notes on important choices and other geeky stuff. All because it was written in Japanese. And he even let the machine run overnight, forbidding anyone to turn it off because he was in the middle of it.

Later on, I found out there was a password system that enables you to just log out, then return to where you left off. I never had the heart to tell that to my dad.

I remember the first and only time I cut class - all because I wanted to play at the nearby video gaming salon. It was short-lived though, especially since the guy I coaxed to join me was a teacher's son.

I remember our first actual computer - a stunning 286 processor with two floppy drives, and a micro-floppy drive. I remember those summer days spent on Gorilla, Nibbles, Frogger, Digger, Golden Axe 3, Budokan, Prince of Persia, and so much more.

I remember Street Fighter, Mortal Kombat, Sonic the Hedgehog, Super Mario, Final Fantasy, and other SNES, Sega, and Playstation games. In fact, I just got myself some emulators and spent days and nights just revisiting the wonder I had for them - especially the RPGs.

I have a lot of childhood memories. But ironically, the thing I missed the most was my childhood. As the song goes, "Have you ever seen my childhood?"

Looking back and rediscovering how much technology has advanced for the past 20 years, I somehow believed that there are some things that gadgets or social networks can never replace. Yes, it can always imitate. Or simulate. But in the end, we can never digitize friendships.

In an ever-changing techonological age, I remember that there is hope in our youth.

2011: A Whole New Year, A Whole New Blog. Again?

2011-01-02T23:03:00.001+08:00

Okay, I admit it: I've been procrastinating on writing. On purpose. Not that I didn't have any ideas lately. In fact, there were a lot of interesting topics I wanted to write about. Some I managed to jot down in my lil notebook, and others ruefully forgotten.

Fact is, I feel lazy. Or maybe, uninspired. Or specifically, unmotivated.

Why do I write? For my own satisfaction and self-gratification? For self-improvement or development? For self-discovery, introspection or mere self-expression?

In fact, I feel tempted to ask myself - is writing really my thing? I mean, I don't get to earn anything for it. The two novel ideas I started working on this year is currently on a hiatus, because I feel like I'm getting nowhere.

I even sometimes wonder if anybody really bothers to read my blogs.

Speaking of my blog, I thought of reviewing what I've been writing about for the past year and felt amused as I stumbled across one of the earliest blogs for 2010. It was a new year's resolution of some sort, intended to challenge myself. And so to evaluate myself:

1) Write more.
Hmm, I guess I did manage to keep my resolution on this. Well, not as much as I wanted to, but at least I wrote more for this year than in the past years, I guess. Though I wasn't able to finish my short story. Sigh. Oh well, there's always room for improvement...

2) Read more.
Okay - this one I proudly say I did keep :D Let me check the list of books I got to read...

Percy Jackson - The Lightning Thief

Percy Jackson - The Sea of Monsters

Percy Jackson - The Titan's Curse

Percy Jackson - The Battle of the Labyrinth

Percy Jackson - The Last Olympian

Heroes of Olympus - The Lost Hero

Artemis Fowl

Artemis Fowl - The Arctic Incident

Artemis Fowl - The Eternity Code

Artemis Fowl - The Opal Deception

Artemis Fowl - The Lost Colony

Artemis Fowl - The Time Paradox

The Kane Chronicles - The Red Pyramid

IDEA+OLOGY (Christopher Simmons)

The Scarlet Pimpernel

(Umm, should I include the countless manga series I read???) XD

3)    Sleep more.
Weeeellll... I did get to sleep more... and also to go through sleepless nights... soooooo...

4)    Smile more.
I tried, didn't I?

5)    Go out more.
Okay, I totally failed on this one. >_<

6)    Listen more.
Just two words that made the 'getting in touch with music' suck: JUSTIN BIEBER

Sheesh. I really hate that guy.

7)    Pray more.
It's kinda embarrassing to admit that despite all the hassles of 2010, I severely lacked in prayer - simply because I was too caught up in so many activities.

Sigh. If there's anything I should learn from last year - it's in how much I need to rediscover my personal quiet time.

8)    Save more.
Okay. Utter failure. SIGH.

9)    Exercise more.
Hmm, not bad… but I didn't get to meet my target. Hope I can have enough budget to recommit into my old muay thai sessions... if there's one thing I missed while I was in Avon, it was being able to afford the muaythai tutorial fees & equipment expenses...

And yeah, I'm gonna miss the table tennis. Badminton, anyone?

10)    Remember more.
What was it about again? Haha! Well, looking back through this list, it's reminds me that despite my limitations, I did manage to keep a few resolutions - which means that the notion that New Year's Resolutions are made to be broken isn't entirely true - especially when you seek God's help to make it happen.

Now, what was I ranting about earlier? Oh yeah, writing. Hmm, I still don't know why I still struggle and push myself to write... but I guess I'll keep holding on to my words until I understand and realize why it still matters.

And yeah, I'm gonna save up for a camera. I'm getting tired using edited online graphics for my posts.

Happy New Year, everyone!

Three Wise Gifts

2010-12-20T00:14:00.002+08:00

I already received three Christmas gifts (a shirt I got from an exchange gift activity, a couple of timely GCs, and a foodie!) to this day, and I feel very thankful - not because I received something, but because what I received was some items I really needed.

Let's be frank: how often do we pressure ourselves looking for a way to give everyone we know something for Christmas - only to end up buying cheap stuff at Divisoria so that it will fit the budget (which translates as your entire Christmas bonus, or worse - your entire ATM balance)? I'm not against buying stuff at 168 Mall, which is now revered as a die-hard shopper's pilgrimage. What I realized - now that I'm back to the simple life below-average income living - was how easily and carelessly spent my money.

But don't be on the defensive! Giving is a laudable act; as they say, "it's the thought that counts," that's why there are no "empty" or "cheap" gifts as long as we put our heart into it.

Yet, have we?

What does it really mean to put your heart in your gift?

It makes me wonder - would it be better to give generic gifts, as long as everyone you know receives something from you? Or wouldn't it be more excellent to see the need, seek God's heart on it, and whole-heartedly give - even if that means bringing a smile to only one person this Christmas?

What really is a gift?

To the persons who gave me my three wise gifts, I thank you with all of my heart. Especially for the banana cake - my tummy thanks you as well.

An advanced merry Christmas to all!

Being Out of the Box: Me & Creativity

2010-12-06T00:26:00.002+08:00

Box design by Iris Blanche Plopenio

[The article below is the transcript of my short talk on December 3 during our WINchetto event by the Single Adults Ministry of WINmakati.]

There are two obstacles for a graphic artist like me. First, there’s the limit of my imagination. And second, there’s the limit of design – everything has to have a purpose. And I can’t help but feel like my brain is inside a box. How creative can I be with only one little box?

Creativity isn’t about breaking rules, or surpassing your limits. It’s about discovering new principles, and pioneering into new territories. I believe that every one of us has the unlimited potential for creativity. That’s because God, the Supreme Creator of the entire universe, made us in His very likeness. It doesn’t mean we’re equal to Him; it simply means we inherited some of His characteristics.

Just look around you: man’s creativity overflows – from engineering and architecture, to arts and design, from science and technology, and even fashion and food. God gave us the capacity to create from His very own creation. God has supplied everything we would ever need – and that includes ideas. So when we run out of it, why not come back to Him?

We can’t put all of God’s creativity in a box. Or even a million boxes. It just won’t fit. So why bother staying inside one?

Uncover your creativity. Discover your Creator.

I’m Ron Patrocinio, knocking at your box.

[Hope you enjoyed it!]

The Bernardo Carpio Complex

2010-11-17T17:49:00.001+08:00

I sometimes wondered if given the right circumstances during my high school life, I could have chosen the field of psychology for my college degree. I always enjoyed observing people, spending time to understand them, draw out my own hypotheses and analysis, and make lessons from all these.

One particular observation is what I personally would love to call 'The Bernardo Carpio Complex'.

Source: http://komiklopedia.wordpress.com/2008/11/03/mga-alamat-ng-pilipinas/philippinelegends1

Most of us probably still remember who that guy is from Filipino literature class (though it still is debatable how original the story is, but that's for someone else to talk about). He's the Samson of Philippine folkore, sans the rebonded long hair. And similarly, his story also ended in a similar fashion - except he didn't bring the whole mountains down.

One of our pastors and a very good friend/counselor, Ptr Bayani Esguerra, described it as similar to the Messiah Complex. And for a good reason: Carpio's motivation for choosing to be stuck between a rock and a hard place (literally) was due to his supposed destiny (or the people's expectation) to become his race's savior. But he failed to realize the trap that was set out for him. And that was the end for him.

I strongly believe that many talented and gifted people inevitably suffers from a Bernardo Carpio Complex at least once in their life. Well-meant help, carrying other people's burden, accepting tasks and making sacrifices - the haunting words of Ben Parker from Spiderman 1 somehow reverberates through our consciousness:

"With great power comes great responsibility."

I myself strongly believe in that notion - that our God-given talents and skills are meant for something more than ourselves, like bringing glory and honor to our Creator, as well as being a blessing to other people. But there comes a point where we have to realize that being engrossed in comtemporary neo-heroism often brings more damage than benefit (like when superheroes destroy city blocks just to defeat a villain).

Think for a while: have you ever accepted a certain task out of sheer sense of duty, then another one comes along and you seem to have no choice but to take it because 'only you can do it' or 'you seem to do it better'. While these may not be quite wrong as it is, it can become a trap in such a way that later on, we end up stuck with a difficult dilemma. Just like Bernardo Carpio - who some people believe is still stuck there somewhere in Montalban, Rizal. Stuck and helpless, only causing tremors each time he tries to break free.

I do not criticize the Bernardo Carpios of our age and time. But we all have our own little weaknesses: a lapse of judgment, a lack of wisdom, a difficulty with time management, a confusion of priorities, a little bit of emotional stability, and so on. I believe that with great power comes great responsibility - but I also believe that the higher we get, the harder the fall will be.

Being a Bernardo Carpio is complex. Save yourself the tears - trust Him first, the True Savior of all. He saved you and me from sin and death, so what's to stop him from saving you from our stupid decisions and mistakes?

A Second Voice

2010-11-01T18:50:00.000+08:00

I just got back from the PCEC NYC 1st Philippine Youth Ministries Congress, and I would say that even though I attended it as a staff, I went home refreshed and recharged for ministry. And of course, to start a new blog, thanks to Sir Mighty Rasing.

The truth is, I've become lazy of late - on writing. Or maybe I was just too preoccupied with lots of things. But despite all the alibis, the cliche line from Spiderman haunts me again:

"With great power comes great responsibility."

I'm not bragging about my skills, but I do acknowledge that God has gifted me with talents that had enabled me to reach out, bless, influence and even encourage other people. And knowing these, I realize that weight of opportunity of each word I say, each post I make - whether it be purely fun or profound. Not that I will cease to be the crazy-idea guy that I am; I will always be Ron - being otherwise is plain stupid.

And so I venture into a new challenge - of being passionately vocal about my faith, in my own radical way. I'll be keeping this blog for my other crazy ideas though (politics, romance, philosophical ideas and other eccentricities). That said, I'm still thinking on how the new faith-based blog should progress... but for now, I'll settle with the thought that for once, I beat procrastination ;)

T.G.I.A. (Thank God I'm Alive)

2010-09-19T02:12:00.000+08:00

While I never truly considered suicide, I did wonder if I was better off dead. Just for the kick of it: how would my funeral be like, what would people say about me, and who would bother to visit my coffin.

Somehow, it makes me want to live a little bit more.

That is, outside my hectic "life."

What does it truly mean to live?

I remember well the tagline from Braveheart. It says:

"Every man dies. Not every man really lives."

Having watched numerous zombie films, read through zombie manga, and even played zombie games... it makes me wonder what being a zombie really is like. Just living to satiate one's hunger, one's desire (come to think of it - I never encountered a scene where a zombie gets thirsty)... shuffling through life aimlessly... only devouring those who are different to them.

And looking at the normal society we currently belong to, I'd say we already have our own zombie invasion.

Chasing deadlines after deadlines makes me wonder if I'm no different from a zombie. I often scold myself for being too wrapped up with stuff to do, that I neglect my relationships - my own family, my friends... and even my own personal relationship with God. Everything became routine work - just a matter of accomplishing each task, so that I can move on to the next one.

Who says zombies don't exist?

Which brings me to the question - have I really started to live...

By straining to reach my dreams?
By stretching out my heart to care for more people?
By seeking out my purpose as designed by my Creator?

Well, I can't truly answer my own question yet. But thank God I'm alive enough to bother reflecting about it.

On Calculated Spontaneity and Spontaneous Calculations

2010-08-30T21:44:00.003+08:00

It's not a totally new concept. In fact, just using Google Search gives you an approximate of 494,000* hits on those keywords alone. (Accessed: 30 August 2010, 09:32PM )

That aside, nobody seems to really offer an extensive description of what this oxymoron really means.

Is inception, as the blockbuster movie suggested, possible? Theoretically, probable. But nevertheless achievable. In the same way, calculated spontaneity is theoretically possible.

To perform spontaneous calculations would require a certain degree of giftedness. Like when someone randomly exclaims a 10-digit number and a gifted kid would blurt out its prime number. The split-second logic-bending calculation is in fact so natural to the child that he merely shrugs it off, like breathing.

On the other hand, calculated spontaneity is theoretically possible through extreme subconscious in-depth analysis. This can be born from either pure talent or genius. Or simply from extensive experience and practice. Take the chess player for example: high-level players are said to automatically predict at least 20 moves in advance.

Is it possible to still think when you're driving the roller coaster train? Speed Racer makes it seem true. Wanna try?

Also in a high-speed car race, the sheer velocity borders on spontaneous reflexes - yet within those moments, subconscious calculations exists beyond the realms of cognitive perception, drawing past experiences while assessing the situation and making muscles move along with the minute decisions that may either mean life or death to the driver.

But the existence of calculated spontaneity is not limited only to such extreme conditions. In fact, it can be possible with everyday life - albeit unknowingly. From impulsive shopping to a spontaneous witty remark or joke, each act and behavior involves an imperceptible amount of reference from past experiences coupled with subconscious inference to underlying personal principles based on learnings from trial and error.

Which begs us the question: Is anything in life truly spontaneous?

Sleepless in Makati... Brainless, Too.

2010-08-13T02:20:00.000+08:00

I realized too late what the worst thing is that can happen when you're rushing on a deadline. It's not a crashed computer, or dogs/cats/mice/iguanas chewing up your paper. It's not a power failure, or lost internet connection. It's not even illness, or heartaches... or the usual sleepiness.

The worst thing you can have is an uncooperative, unproductive brain.

Just imagine having all the resources, all the energy... but zero ideas. Zilch.You sit there in front of the computer, staring for an indeterminable period of time. You poise your pencil or pen on a paper, just anticipating that spark of inspiration.

And nothing happens.

I could just imagine Clark Kent ripping off his clothes, only to expose a beer gut. And while in mid-air, he realizes that the whole Krypton thing was just a dream.

Splurch.

And so I sit back in retrospect thought. Is this a side effect of caffeine overdose? Do I need more sleep? Was my cosmic source of ideas tapped out when I keep using my brain for crazy love quotes? Was the horrific amount of preservatives from countless packs of instant noodles avenging themselves on me tonight? Am I subconsciously thinking of something else, or someone? Or maybe my mind just chose this perfect timing to have a mind of its own?

Whatever the explanation, the fact remains: I'm stuck with deadlines, time is daintily skipping in sarcastic stride, and I can't even sleep - that I blame on those mugfuls of extra strong brewed coffee (which I don't regret enjoying haha).

So here I am still, staring at the screen, just typing out whatever comes to my mind (censored parts NOT included), in hope that by streaming these thoughts, the creative arteries of my currently inutile brain will get unclogged. Who knows? Maybe these semi-atrophied brain cells only need some mental exercise.

And now, I'm drained of useful thoughts.

Except... Never mind.

Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne connait pas.

Stubborn brain. You too, heart.

A Mirrored Glass on Writers’ Block

2010-08-08T23:48:00.001+08:00

A friend just chatted me up the other day. He was reading a blog I wrote, and he was asking nicely why I stopped posting.

Oh.

In that almost-dreamlike expanse of a moment, my logical mind raced to come up with alibis to justify myself from being embarrassed.

I simply blurted, “Laziness.”

And it was the truth.

Ouch, the truth sure hurts a lot.

I usually complain that I don’t get much ideas lately – blaming on writers’ block or some imaginary squirrel on my brain. And it was the truth (in several instances). But I did realize that we never really run out of ideas – our brain perpetually churns them out with leisure and pleasure. What I often lacked was not creativity, but determination to chase after it, capture it, and mold it.

(Frankly, just trying to imagine and analyze the entire process can force you back into voluntary stupor. Such a discussion is more suited for a philosopher or psychologist, and I am neither).

Ideas. How often do we encounter them, passing through our lives with trivial splendor like falling stars and fireflies. With each rustling fiddles of the breeze, the harmonic tiptoes of the rain, the silently strummed heats-strings of each tear, to the unheard angelic choir of each smile… Yes, ideas rush through our lives without abandon, fueled by untamed passion towards an ever-growing dimension of dreams.

And yes, we barely give it a glance. Or a shrug.

Have you ever run after an elusive idea, never giving up until it became a reality? Have you ever pursued a vague thought, setting your heart to unveil its form, with only one end in mind – that is, to grasp it within your very own hands?

But oh, it’s so easy to be lazy. To simply enjoy the comfort. To just smile and wait for a less-tiring opportunity. Or idea.

Until one day, we pass by a mirror. And catch a glimpse of ourselves. Our nonchalant, apathetic and mediocre selves.

Or was it our reflection that grabbed us instead, crying out against our own passivity?

Or in a lowfalutin parlance… Laziness.

[To be continued… later…]

God Luvz Jejemons

2010-04-24T00:40:00.002+08:00

I remember watching Pokemon for the first time. I hated it right away - but I have to admit that Pikachu is classically cute, even to this date.

The Jejemon culture, on the other hand, was cute when it started (just like baby-talk) as a form of syntax in mobile messaging, and eventually into social networks like Friendster. And like mice (which Pikachu supposedly was), it breeded, swarmed and dominated entire webpages.

Just like Zerglings overrunning planets. Or zombies.

I first saw the term a few months back, but I did not give much notice to it. As much as I get pissed off at that culture, I felt myself a minority who actually give a damn about it. And then the jeje witch hunts began like a cult phenomenon, with Facebook fan pages like "Jejemons: Gotta Kill Em All!" and the likes. What's surprising was the speed at which the viral stimulus spread in various social networks - like an anti-venin suddenly purging the body from unwanted substances.

But why the hatred?

While I do get the irritation and exasperation of most jejebusters, I feel that we are overreacting. Do they deserve our hate messages? Do they deserve to be ridiculed, humiliated, (verbally) abused, or simply discriminated?

Are their grammatical monstrosities criminal enough for us to debase their humanity? Don't even beasts deserve respect and understanding? Is our social abhorrence to their culture enough for us to forget about God's love and grace - to which they also are co-heirs of?

What would you say if the Father said it this way:

pfHouwR "God" zOohh lHubbD dah hWeARLeDD dHuuT Heeh gHaybE uHs HiIzz oOuwNleeH SooOwn dHaut hEwsuOebirR bEeehLieeBveS eehN HeehM SHaahL nHautT pfhEreezHzh vuTh haeYbe ebHerrRLastheiehnG lAyFfpH ~ John 3:16

Has His message changed? Has His love changed with the words?

I don't mind correcting Jejemons - in fact, we all should do something about it. The question is, are we doing the right thing? Whether we do it in love or out of love, let's do it for Him - who loved us in our most undeserving moments, especially with our grammatically correct yet heart-wretched words. Ajejeje! :D

Yellow: Just the Right Color

2010-04-20T18:30:00.004+08:00

In a report by Inquirer.Net on April 17, 2010, it opens its news item with this paragraph:

Liberal Party candidates Sen. Benigno “Noynoy” Aquino III and Manuel “Mar” Roxas II are elated that Unsay Mayor Andal Ampatuan Jr. has finally shown his “true colors.”

It also states that Aquino even went as far as to say that: "Ampatuan and Villar probably understood each other more."

BUT WAIT! Here's some breaking news dated today (April 20, 2010): Ampatuan just announced their support for Noynoy!

Now, what were we saying about true colors?

I guess that both articles paint a pretty good picture of it all. Nice choice of color: sunny, bright and clear. As clear as the truth. And pretty much as plain.

By the way, what does Wikipedia say about the color 'yellow'? Hmm.

Non Scholae... So, Anyway [Part 2: Hound Days of a Puppy]

2010-04-20T04:32:00.000+08:00

Whenever I find a picture of the UNC-PMT Gala Uniform, I can't help but feel pride in having worn one of those - especially the one with a star on its 5-striped chevron.

The PMT (or CAT as it was originally called) officers' training was probably one of the most stressful phases in high school, especially in Naga City. The amount of training and excellence was exemplified by the fact that the entire region was participating in bagging the honors of being the best and most disciplined group.

Yet for all the hype, the dark rumors were true in our day: of corrupted basketballs which left us drooling... of hardened abdomens from boxing practice...

But hey, we had our happy memories, too!

1. Memories on the Dog Days of Summer

It was in the summer of 1997 when Bicol was given the privilege of hosting the Palarong Pambansa. And we were invited to take part on it - as flag bearers. The practices took place at the back of the Capitol Building in Pili, Camarines Sur (and later on, at the Sports Complex). It was an El Niño summer just like this year - the sweltering, unforgiving sun broiling our brains.

Our late commandant, Sir Pete, brought with him a funny, yet cool gadget. Literally. It was a ball cap with a solar-powered fan installed in it. I forgot where he got it, but anyway he was happily enjoying the artificial breeze while we endured the entire ordeal. Some of my co-officers decided to play a prank then on him. Sneaking behind our short faculty member/officer, they stretched out their sweaty palms over our elderly's head, grinning like the devils they were.

With the sunlight blocked, the tiny fan suddenly stopped. Sir Pete looked at the device curiously, the bill of the cap hiding the palms that were the cause of the discomfort. He tapped the fan several times, just in time for my colleagues to withdraw their hands. They repeated the charade several times, until they got caught because everyone was already laughing at the scene.

It was also on that occasion when the "Maogmang Lugar" (translated as "Happy Place") motto of the city was being introduced. The city government was bannering the motto all around, and unwittingly placed some signs at (of all the unholy places) the local cemetery. At first, it elicited a few jokes from us - until the officials realized their mistake. Well, it did help made the place livelier, even for a while.

2. The Red and Gray Days

I guess one of my greatest regrets was being the cause for the cancellation of our PMT Officer's Ball. While I was not against the idea, I was not comfortable with the requirement - that is, each officer had to have a partner. Being fickle as I am (until now), I didn't like the idea for several reasons: (a) I didn't want people to take the wrong idea about whom I choose as my partner; (b) I didn't know whom I want to pick; (c) I was too torpe to ask the one I actually wanted to be my partner. Yeah, yeah... And so, just a few weeks before the ball, my commandant found out about my predicament and so the ball was called off on my account. Sorry, everyone.

There were a lot of happy, ordinary day memories, too. Like the time when I played a prank on a junior officer - something I picked up from my sister, who also was an officer. I ordered the poor kid to fetch a pig that was up on the tree. After a round of cajoling, I persuaded him to do as I say - which was to convince the imaginary pig to get down the tall tree. I was laughing my ass off watching him shake the tree and shout at the invisible animal until a faculty member investigated what was going on. Luckily, the kid didn't tell on me.

Being part of the officer corps is a privilege, and an advantage. We were often tasked to do sentry duties on important school events, which automatically gives us access to free food.

I just wondered how different my life would have been had I been more playful in terms of romance during my high school life. I mean, I had a good built, and being in uniform was somewhat a pogi point then. But even though I did notice a peek or two, I didn't bother to give them my attention, enjoying my days with friends. Maybe I will change that if I invent a time machine... hahahha!

3. A Tiny Mutiny

Our batch's greatest feat (or prank, as it seems) was done late in our school year, as we were training the junior students as officers. There had been some issues concerning abuses and complaints, which during that time I didn't take much notice of. I was quite busy with my numerous extra-curricular commitments (and my personal problems at home) that I conceded to their plan - which was for all the senior officers to boycott the entire PMT drill for the day. And it was only a few weeks away from graduation.

And so we executed it flawlessly: we pumped up everyone, growling at our classmates to not mess up the drill because we will be "strict", and we were doing our very best to act scary. Which actually paid off: Everyone was scurrying, borrowing metal polish and rags, preparing stuff even two periods away from the practice.

We hurriedly left our rooms when the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Then, after meeting up with the other officers, we scurried away - some went straight home, others went with me to LCC Mall. When we returned an hour later, we saw our classmates loitering around the grass, glaring at us. We just grinned back.

Later on, I asked a fellow how the kind commandant reacted. It was only then I realized that our little act of insubordination was not funny at all. But we did give him a parting gift when the PMT department received its first Best Unit Award during the graduation rites, which he received with much pride. Months later, he died. We never got to salute him a respectful farewell.

Sigh. I miss Sir Pete. God rest his soul.

Non Scholae... So, Anyway [Part 1: Photographs and Memories]

2010-04-20T03:16:00.000+08:00

Thanks to Facebook, a lot of my former classmates and schoolmates were finally able to flush me out of hiding. And thanks to them, my internet browser is getting slower with each chat window they assault me with. Not that I'm complaining - I could go offline if I really wanted some privacy. But I have come to realize that each opportunity to reconnect with my old friends is a precious moment, even if all they would say is, "Hi Patti!" and "Add mo ko sa Farmville, ha?"

Each encounter with each new "refound" friend triggers countless memories; some are quite happy and hilarious, while others tinged with a sliver of sadness. I browse through their photos out of curiosity, and find myself unsurprised when I don't see any old school pictures with my face on it. Though I would justify that I only saw a few of them - my classmates would sheepishly admit having no time (i.e., too lazy) to scan and upload them.

But it kinda sucks when I look at my older friends' profiles and find their atchara-hued photos of the yester-decades, brimming with long-forgotten stories and laughters, and I realize that I sorely wish to remember my past, too.

Wow. I suddenly felt old. I never thought 12 years would feel so... long time ago.

I quite remember how a picture-hog I was, jumping at the nick of time to ruin a perfectly-composed shot, trying to be part of every scene. But somewhere along the years, I've developed an aversion to photographs. I still can't remember why, though.

One thing I've learned is that every photograph and memory is a treasure. Really. Just like my entire collection of childhood pictures, which we forgot to relocate during the flood in Naga City back in 1993. But I guess the ones I really regret losing are the several roles of film I never got developed back in 1997, which were my personal photo-journal of my entire senior year in high school.

So now I'm stuck waiting and hoping for my former classmates to have the diligence of loading up their profiles with our class photos. Sigh.

Not of school, but of life. Yup. I won't forget that one. Especially since it has been the picture of what my life is today.

To Hell with Flirting

2010-04-19T03:27:00.002+08:00

[Disclaimer: This blog is my personal view on flirting. I am not a theologian, pastor, psychologist or therapist. So spare me please, I'm just ranting here.]

I have not been a playboy during high school or college (or even up to my young adult years). In fact, I was the torpe guy. The only reason I didn't have any relationship during my teenage years was my endemic hesitation and shyness to actually court a girl - and I had a lot of crushes then, just like any other normal guy.

I both admire and dislike flirts. I dislike them because they remind me of my own timidity. My admiration for them is because of my timidity. Yet thinking back, I realized that I myself did flirted a lot. It's just that I did so unknowingly . Teasing girls to test if they have any interest in me, baiting them with lovely words to purposely create a spark... these are but some of the flirtatious things I admit that I am guilty to.

It's quite interesting to know that the internet offers a lot of opinions with regards to flirting - the search word "flirt" alone produces 2,320,000 hits, most of which are blog articles giving advise on do's and don'ts of flirting.

Which begs the question: Why flirt?

I've been thinking of that question for several days, and what I've come to realize is there's really no justifiable reason why we should flirt. Does that make it wrong to flirt? Personally, I'd say no about the act itself. But how it affects us and others around us is wrong. According to Merriam-Webster, flirting means "to behave amorously without serious intent" and/or "to show superficial or casual interest or liking". And believe me, I'd hate someone who plays around with my feelings.

Here are two simple reasons why we should not indulge in flirting:

False expectations: It's not serious, so what do you expect to happen? .
Temporary excitement: Don't expect a flirt to flirt with you and you alone forever

As a Christian, I would have to say NO to flirting. I guess that statement is almost as impossible as saying NO to extra rice, upsized/refillable softdrinks, and free chocolate. All of which are actually doable - except that the temptation is almost heart-wrenching. The whole world is egging us to do their thing, teaching us that the best way into a relationship is through flirting. But there are better ways to win a person's heart - if indeed it is one's heart that we are after.

So, do I go to hell for flirting?

Well, I can't really answer that question. But I am quite sure that if you don't stop flirting soon, your life's gonna be hell. Seriously, you don't want to be on that hot seat.

This is Madness! This is the Philippines!

2010-04-14T05:03:00.003+08:00

It's been a week since I last blogged - a maddening week of worrying and trying to do something about my financial crisis. And in some ways, the stress was driving me insane.

I was trying to limit myself from tackling too much politics in my blog, because I don't want this to be a political blog. I want it to be a personal and fun site where I can express my ideas freely.

That was a crazy hope, because I realize that as much as I hate politics, it's a part of life. So heck, I might as well deal with it.

Just a few days ago, a supposedly fictitious scanned psychiatric document started circulating in the Internet. I saw it first on Facebook, and out of curiosity I checked it out. It allegedly stated Noynoy Aquinos' previous mental condition. Frankly, I didn't care. It was debunked later on by the supposed signatoree of the document anyway.

But noooooooo. The story can NOT end there. The Villar camp had to challenge Noynoy to undergo an actual test to disprove the disproven document. And noooooooo, Noynoy's camp had to bark back. Yackety-yack-yack-quack.

Well, here's my own diagnosis/prognosis of their complaints:

VILLAR:

Subject shows symptoms of acute dementia. Subject claims of disjointed memories, and suffers from chronic hallucination which involves swimming in a sea of garbage (probable cause may be unknown childhood trauma of Freudian origins).

PRESCRIPTION:

Sustagen Premium. And no pork (especially in barrels). Especially on the road.

AQUINO:

Subject exhibits extreme paranoia, and persecution/superiority complex. Subject babbles repeatedly of conspiracy theories, and shows extreme defense mechanisms on family and personal issues. Observations show that subject also suffers from acute sleeping disorders, and a necrophiliac case of Oedipus complex.

PRESCRIPTION:

Stop smoking. Meals should not include barrels of pork either. And a little caffeine, Extra Joss or Cobra might help sustain wakefulness. Or even just Kopiko candies, which can also be used as a deterrent for further smoking.

* * *

In conclusion, why don't we just subject everyone to all types of tests? I mean all the candidates - from the presidential, senatorial and local levels. Heck, even Cabinet posts should have strict psychological records. Businesses do it as part of the hiring protocol, and being reassured that our options for the next national leaders ARE NOT loons is OUR business as the citizens.

So, where will the budget for those tests come from?

Don't you just love this crazy nation?

Cats Are XXL Kittens, but Cats are Miniature Lions

2010-04-07T14:35:00.008+08:00

I was cleaning up my hard drive from unwanted junk when I stumbled across a batch of photographs I took from my previous (sniff!) mobile phone. They were taken during our stint in Tarlac City last January 2010:

What particularly amused me about this pair was how old the kitten was already. I mean, just look at the picture - HE'S BIG. And he's still acting like a kitten, still not weaned from his mom! I actually tried several times to separate him from his mother (and got some scratches from the effort), but still he'd run to her side like the big baby he is.

Looking at him still sucking vigorously at his mom's underside puts a sly smile on my face, because somehow it reminds me of how many people like myself act the same way (okay, maybe not the literal feeding part, because that would be outright disgusting for our age).

I personally am not against childish behavior - I sincerely believe it is a necessary outlet for adults to indulge in such whims from time to time. Playfulness, after all, should not be a characteristic limited to childhood. But childish dependency - that's a different thing.

Yes. I say childish, not childlike. As the Bible teaches us, we need childlike faith - marked by an innocent dependence on God. That is virtuous. It does not deny, neglect or reject responsibility nor accountability; it merely clings to Him. Childish faith, on the other hand, is emphasized by a lack of maturity wherein we throw all responsibilities back at Him, expecting Him to pick up the mess after us all the time.

What piqued my interest about the whole experience was that the pets' owner told me a story about how the same over-sized kitten had supposedly killed a snake (yes, the venomous type, and it was big enough to kill!) in the homeowner's backyard a few weeks back. How an inexperienced kitten was able to do just that is up to your imagination... Maybe he magically transformed into Heman's Battle Cat. But the simple fact remains: he did it, without his mother's aid.

And still he lazily prefers nursing at his mother's mammary glands.

Come to think of it, I wonder if I'm no different from that kitten after all.

A Good Friday - Literally

2010-04-05T22:02:00.003+08:00

I always wanted to hold a Siberian Husky. Maybe it's due to its wolf-like countenance, or maybe of how regal I find its silvery-white fur. And I had a chance to fulfill that simple wish last Good Friday.

Our church mates had set out to visit the Interactive Way of the Cross exhibit by ChurchSimplified at the Bonifacio High Street in Fort Bonifacio, Taguig City. I am not fond of visiting that area - first because I do not have the budget to spend (either shopping, eating or simply traveling!); second because I thought I'd feel out of place - the average bum that I am.

While I did join my fellows for a wonderful afternoon of spiritual reflection, I was refreshed by the social revamp on my consciousness. I always thought rich people (or most of them) were bitchy coños. And believe me: a lot of those kind were indeed existent in that part of the world (marked by the spray-painted canines they trotted about... doesn't animal rights cover such humiliation?). But when we met the owners of the husky (see picture above), I was quite taken aback by their amiability and cordiality. I mean, they offered us to pet him! How cool is that! Me, a stranger and an economically-and-socially-average Filipino, stroking and having pictures taken with their pet!

Maybe I am just overreacting. Maybe I am just drooling at the sheer ecstasy of having the simple pleasure of the husky's soft, warm feel within my touch. And maybe it just dawned on me how God treats us - not as strangers, never looking at our status, treating us all as friends and sharing His blessing and grace to us.

Well, I barely had enough change to survive the week much less travel home that day. But it did help remind me that sometimes, we just have to take God's offer to enjoy Him - on trusting Him, in believing Him. And in receiving His promises, even when we can't see it yet.

And on hindsight, I thank God I don't have a husky - especially one who poops more than I could hold on my hand. Guess I should dream on a beagle instead. Or just a guinea pig. Hmm, the last one sounds more reasonable.

To Err Ain’t Human; To Joke About It – That’s a Man!

2010-04-03T12:24:00.003+08:00

Life is a joke. For some people, that may sound like a joke. But the truth can’t be any funnier than that.

I’m serious. Making jokes is not a joke; it takes certain skills, knowledge, and a measure of experience to make it funny. In fact, it is easier to make rational choices than to make jokes, even the most stupid ones.

Except when it comes to love and politics. That is not a joke.

Humor, not rationality, is the proof of being human.

I remember our philosophy professor teaching us that man should be defined as “a rational being.” However, I beg to differ.

Almost every creature on Earth has their own daily dose of problems. And I do believe that every creature has their own ability to survive, to struggle, to feel sad or happy in each endeavor. Each creature has the ability to think of what they need, how they can get it, and what they should avoid in order to survive.

However, only one creature has the ability to find humor in every or any circumstance. And yes, that’s us: humans. Well, we do observe a lot of animals behaving humorously. And almost all animals display a degree of playfulness. But having a sense of humor is a totally different thing.

What makes something humorous, anyway?

Humor is a form of intelligence.

Humor is intentional; it even requires planning and timing for serious practitioners. Anyone can make everyone laugh. But it takes a certain amount of skill to make someone laugh. It takes talent to be able to find something humorous about a fleeting circumstance that only lasts for a moment, translate, craft and express it into words, and adapt it in such a way as to communicate what you personally find funny.

And to process all those stuff in, mentally ingesting them, and comprehending the hidden meaning behind certainly requires intelligence. Don’t you get frustrated when you think of a joke and people just don’t get it? Or it takes some time for them to grasp it?

Humor is measure of maturity.

Every newborn child with no speech impairment knows only two basic sounds: A cry and a laugh. Babies cry for a lot of reasons, but they only laugh for a few of them. That includes when you make funny faces – which, by the way, is an enigma of whether it is the face or the effort which makes them laugh.

Every human being from childhood to adulthood has their own share of humor. That said, being funny is not (and should not) be limited to the young; in fact, elder people are pretty funny, too – even when they don’t remember how.

I believe that everyone has the ability to find and appreciate humor, whether you are young or old. But the quality of one’s jokes, as well as the level of humorous insight, are directly proportional not to their age but with their life experience and intellectual level.

* * *

So why should we care about humor? Isn’t the world too depressing enough for us to make it worse by making jokes about it? However, I guess it is that very reason that we need to be more humorous in life. Life is too short to be wasted on sadness and despair; life was meant to be enjoyed despite its troubles and trials.

Can you imagine if God didn't create us with the imagination for humor? Now that would be a big, bad joke. Seriously.

Pinoy Brown Jokes Have Many Shades

2010-04-01T03:11:00.006+08:00

In the Philippines, almost every day is April Fools Day. Just watch the political TV ads and news articles.

We have an action star who made a joke of the Philippine government, and still sold joke books. And the bigger joke is that it has a sequel running. Literally, in a figure-of-speech way. The biggest joke will be if he manages to pull a trilogy out of it, which may not be far-fetched considering how long his political show series had remained in the mainstream.

We have a genuine slum-raised politician, or should it be scum? Or scam? He claims to have a real rags-to-riches story, except he never got rid of the dirty clothes. Metaphorically. Although the yellow brick road keeps dropping unsteppables in his path, you have to admire his tenacity in keeping a straight face when obviously people are finally learning to read between the lines.

We also have a shaman boy who still encourages anito worship. He loves to conjure the ghosts of his parents to do battle for him in his direst hours. His sibling, the Philippine demi-goddess of intrigue and gossip, aids him in the quest which was supposedly forced on him by circumstances and the call of the people - which arguably may have been a collective aura of ghosts (born from sentimental emotions) - as well as to quell any unwanted spirits from his past. However, exorcising the skeletons from his hacienda-sized backyard may never be a sweet deal.

And then there are the millions of people who, after a few people claimed that they are monkeys, believe that they too are monkeys because most of those few people are really like monkeys. And since 7 out of 10 people I asked came from several random communities where thousands of people reside from cities that complains of millions of citizens, I am inclined to believe that the majority is the truth. Or at least, that's the population according to the surveys.

If you don't get that one, the joke's on you.

Just like our repertoire of best jokes, it never hurts you to use them over and over again especially when it still makes people laugh. Sadly, we're the ones getting laughed at.

P.S.

Ironically, we actually had a joker in the whole lot. Unfortunately, he was not funny enough. And he ran out of lines. And strings.

Three Blind Lies

2010-03-30T17:24:00.002+08:00

Three blind lies, Three blind lies!

See how they run, See how they run!

I've been meaning to make a satire on the nursery rhyme where I got this idea from, where I would like to show that the farmer's wife was more blind than the mice... but the story got too complicated. Plus, rhyming isn't that much fun or easy. So instead, I'll just make my usual rant.

Guess I picked up the idea from Marvel's Daredevil, who despite being blind saw more than others (literally and metaphorically). And it makes me wonder - who really are the blind people in our nation today?

So I present to you three "blindnesses" which I believe afflicts us Filipinos. I hope this will help us see things a bit better.

THE BLINDSIDE

Trust is the most important aspect in any relationship. And ruining it is the most painful crime anyone can do. Making false promises, false claims, putting one's best pedicured foot... a lot of bad people blindside us with these deceptions. And what's sad about it is that a lot of us are actually gullible enough to believe them. Just watch TV. How many times have you actually tried a product because of their advertisements, only to find out later that it wasn't as great as they said it would be? The good news is that the regret you get from wasting your hard-earned money on such products will fade away in a couple of days. Or at least until you used it all up, or finally decide to introduce it to the trash bin.

Some TV commercials, though, offer choices that has more far reaching consequences than a grocery list mistake. I guess they are what the economists refer to as the gross domestic product. But then, like junk food and vices, Filipinos still have the stubbornness to endorse and patronize such. Until cancer and other gross illnesses blindsides them later on in life, or sometimes a bit earlier.

* * *

THE BLIND SPOT

We can't blame some people who are not fully aware of their own blind spots. But then there are people who do manipulate others and focus their eyes away on what they don't want to see, hiding their defects in plain sight. They would love to point out what's wrong with this and that, and all the while keeping mum on their own. I think a Filipino proverb phrases it as "Bago linisin ang dungis ng iyong kapwa, hugasan ang iyong putik sa mukha".

And yes, that's in the Bible, too.

But do you know what really gets me? It's the people's reaction when they realize the fault in it: "Hey, where did that come from? How come we didn't notice it before?" Magic? Duh.

* * *

THE BLIND EYE

I don't mean the literal (physical) kind here. But this has got to be the most pathetic "blindness" of all. Why? Because you have no excuse! It was your very own free will to turn a blind eye on something. You know there's something wrong, but because of your own ideals and ideas, you prefer not to see the "bad side" and instead focus on the "good side."

But you know what? Ugliness doesn't disappear just because you close your eyes. And ignoring it doesn't make it even better. Although I don't blame them; after all, the glaring truth can also be the blinding truth - and frankly it's easier to just turn your back on it rather than keep your eyelids shut and pretend that you can't see anything.

* * *

As an afterthought, I do wonder if the same applies to the saying "Love is blind". Well, didn't see that one coming. Yet.

Repainting the Writer's Block

2010-03-29T19:30:00.006+08:00

After weeks of procrastination, I finally spent hours pimping up this blog site of mine today. And it makes me wonder, "Why the heck did I not do it sooner?"

I'm feeling euphoric lately with the rush of ideas to write about. In fact, I want to write about so many things that I usually end up writing about nothing at all. Like now.

As they say, too much of something is hazardous to one's self. And too many concepts fighting over your mind's priority list is just about as crazy as being unable to think of anything to write about at all. Just like the proverbial dead-end: it can either be a blank wall, or a wall of thugs grinning and waiting to pounce on you. Either way, you're dead.

Guess that's about the same with pretty much everything in our life: cramming for the holidays, planning for the summer, preparing for job and business opportunities... heck, there's so much we can do when we start to realize that there is so much we can do. And knowing that you could do so much more sometimes makes us do less after all - being paralyzed by the sheer ecstasy of the thought. Or rationality and practicality seizes control, and you end up with another day wasted.

But then, just like my much-delayed layout-fixing task, you just have to start doing it. And enjoying it. What's the point of doing everything yet enjoying nothing, when you can just do anything and at least reflect at the end of the day that you enjoyed something?

Wish I can say the same with my love life. Ha ha ha. I think I'm gonna procrastinate a bit more in that area.