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The fact is, I am not naturally nice and am mean. When I am angry, I am dangerous. It is hard for me to get tamed. Meekness is strength they say. Meekness is the ability to control even when you have the power to do something. Eg. You can say to a person who has terribly hurt you, “F**ck you, damsshyiet you are! “, but you take your tongue to the obedience of Christ, and believe that vengeance is not ours, but God’s.
Anyway, bear with me, this is a very disorganized post, again. As I am disorganized ( literally...let’s start with my curly/wavy/shitty hair which I love ). I dreamt just this day. In my dream, someone told me, “ It does not mean that when it’s difficult, you cannot do it”. I was alarmed because I was afraid it was a dream that came from heaven. Usually, I get revelations through dreams. For some reason, I was feeling nauseated to grasp what that sentence would mean.
Last night, my dad made me feel bad about myself again and threw into my face how little he thought of me because of my “career path”, and how not proud he was of me. So, I decided to move out again of our house. My sister and I planned that we rent and own a house. Of course, since my sister is NOT dependable ( she changes her mind easily and not stick to her decision – that which I hate the most because if I say something, I would fulfil it even to my death ), I told her time and again to be firm on that as I was serious about that.
I want to move not because I hate my dad. I hope I will just stay here with my parents because I love them and want to be with them. And, I know they love me. No parents are perfect. Gratefully, my parents try their best to love me. It’s always the same cycle though of them not thinking greatly of me and not accepting that they have a daughter who is “different”. I am not saying I am different because I am a genius. It’s just that most of the time, people don’t understand me because I don’t think like them. Now, I am exhausted of explaining myself to people. Thus the blog.
First of, I have no desire to be popular or rich for the sake of being popular or rich. I don’t even understand why people think that travelling is luxury when for me, it’s education. That’s the reason I don’t tell them I have been to Australia. It’s because they would think I am in there for “ work or marriage”. When I went there, Filipinas wanted me to meet this Australian, a gardener, or that Australian plumber. I admire Australians really for not defining people by their jobs. So unlike Filipinos ( I’ll tell you why in a moment ). I love Australia. It’s almost perfect. The people are GENEROUS, kind, and nice. They love serving each other and loving their country. SO unlike Filipinos. Their place is clean. Their government almost zero in corruption. It’ almost like utopia. SO unlike the Philippines.
However, I have a heart for the Philippines, amidst its corruption, greed, and filthiness ( both in place and people’s character ). Full of flaws, but people try to cope. They are like people who have been abused and are broken, yet still trying to find their worth as people. Some sacrifice integrity for a cheap form of paper-the bills. But, some remain to be strong and full of faith. And I am one of these Filipinos.
I once told a friend it is improper and rude to ask a person what his work is especially on the first meeting. ( SEE, that’s basic, but many people do that...most Australians don’t do that ). Especially in the Philippines where people define people by what they do. And, that’s uncomfortable for most, especially if their job is menial or what. And whoa, people think of me as a person who works in a “call center”. “ Asa gani kah? Sa Sykes, or sa Etel?” ( wa sa duha ) Great. And because the prideful me wants to show off, I’d say, “ I am an editor in...” As if that makes me a better person than those “call agents”. So, anyway, no one will care. They will only know you work in a call center. So I stop defining myself as an “editor” ( that would only make it hard for me to justify that title hehe..forgive the grammar here). They ARE FREE to think I am a “call girl”. Or a cashier in our cafeteria. Or how about a janitress? Who cares? Ah, well, people care. Welcome to the Philippines.
Second of all, there is another creepy, I-so- abhor measurement of men’s ( take note: FILIPINO INDIVIDUALS ) so called “status”---ENGLISH. How often you say it, how you say it, how correct your grammar is, what words you use ( is it a complex word? just yknow, to prove ones width of vocabulary ) . CRAPPY. Go to America, you brown Americans! I don’t get it. I mean, I am not biased. I love English speaking people as much as Bisaya speaking people. What I hate is that people think they’re smarter or richer than others just by the way they use the language. I used to be one of those who think that way. But now that I have been studying Literature, I have learned that our dialect is much creative if we learn to use it as we use other dialects. Now, I go to our Cebuano service at 2pm with Cebuano songs, Cebuano preaching, and Cebuano-speaking Cebuanos. The masa is more numerous than those rich people here. Why do we have to be like them? We are, after all, Cebuanos. Ang hindi marunong magsalita sa sariling wika...ay pumunta nalang sa Amerika. kidding. but hey, you know what I mean. So stop telling me how poor my English grammar is and that how my blog is such a poorly written piece because of the TECHNICALITY of grammatical structure...why much greater pressure than those Koreans or Japanese when in fact all our countries have the common fact---English is our SECONDARY Language. Remember that.
Okay, last and not the least. This is modern era and not the romantic era---bodies are okay not to look like Angelina Jolie’s body. Men nowadays are smarter. I guess. They don’t look on women simply because they have bodies like a celebrity, but they also dig deeper to women’s sexy brains. I was surprised ( really ), that a guy friend of mine told me to lose weight, and I would be “perfect”. And he said that since “seriously, I am pretty, smart, and faithful ( to God ), I could “get any man I want if my body was better”. Little did he know that he had told me the same thing when we were yet in high school. He said, “ if you had a body like hers ( pointing to one of my friends ), you’d be more likeable”. That statement actually was a statement I have been keeping till college and has been the reason of my distorted body image and low self-esteem. Had he said that in Tyra Banks show, I am so sure he’d get “BOOOoos” from the audience. But, I guess he didn’t know better. I know his intentions are good, but I am very much satisfied and happy with my body, a not too skinny one ( with a normal BMI, not classified as overweight ) , and have believed I can have the right man even with this body type. Because the right man for me is not too shallow to look on the form, but is deep enough to look beyond. So, I told my friend to shut up.
This has been long, and it’s time for me to shut up. Hehe. I had qualms in writing all these thoughts because of the consciousness that I might get judged ( some people think that I am nice and don’t say anything, yet I am actually wicked, only unleashed when writing ). I also had been postponing all my posting of poetries because I have always thought I am BAD at writing poems ( I have actually written a lot of them, but threw them away...got frustrated at how bad they were) . So now, I will post them, with the title “Poems of Shit”. Even I may be vulnerable enough to the judging eyes.
Those eyes are just there to judge. They may be right. But, not all the time. All those people who have mind like those who simply want to get wealth and fame are not so bad as people who are also simple minded, like me, who love knowledge and fulfilment than fame or money. All those superb in English are not better than those people who speak in Bisaya. Those men from the romantic era are not better than the men of the modern time. A pretty “healthy, bigger” body type is not lesser than the “athletic or slim” body type.
I guess, what I just want to say in a capsule is that, we are FREE for self-expression, no matter what social class we’re in, or how we look like ( or how we speak, or how we write poetry ). We are all equal.
“ It does not mean that when it’s difficult, you cannot do it”. In a judgemental society, with all our immaturity, it is hard to prove our worth. ANYWAY,
Just Do It.
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“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus”-Galatians 3:28
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