| (no subject) |
[Jun. 23rd, 2001|12:24 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  hopeful | ] |
Faced with such a business proposal, who would not get overwhelmed with excitement? Who would not get exhausted with the impending tasks and legwork?
But it's worth all the investment in time, money and effort. It's a helping business. It's for people. It's for the community. It's not just for profit. It's a venture I would dream of going into in due time.
The excitement is beginning to strain my heart slowly right now. I can't wait to get my hands dirty and set the gears to work. But I will always remind myself that patience is a virtue. So are foresight and commitment.
And if this works through, God knows how many people we will be able to help.
"Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better." |
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| Getting better each day. |
[Jun. 22nd, 2001|04:14 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  thankful | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Thank You For Such a Lovely Morning | ] |
Dearest God, if ever you really exist, thank you, thank you, thank you.
First, for the skill and confidence that you gifted me with for the Plantation Bay stint. Second, for the open-mindedness and welcome of the participants. Third, for the eagerness and the physical strength to reach out. Fourth, for the chance to visit a city where gentle people reside. Fifth, to witness a marriage ceremony where I cried for the first time at seeing a couple kiss.
Sixth, for the friends, old and new alike, who care. Seventh, for the opportunities to learn and earn. Eighth, for the spark of intuitive creativity in rubbing crayons on my room wall. Ninth, for giving good health to my loved ones, family and friends. Tenth, for the dexterity of the barber's hands who deftly trimmed my hair according to my personal tastes.
Eleventh, for a mature friend who has become a very big part of my life. Twelfth, for the gift of insight and sensitivity (no matter how inaccurate) at calculating another person's defenses, masks and duplicitous behavior. Thirteenth, for the courage to remain defenseless and vulnerable. Fourteenth, for the earnest desire to be of help. Fifteenth, for the success in filling up a crossword puzzle.
Sixteenth, for two fellow Arians who shared their dreams with me. Seventeenth, for the unexpected paychecks and bank accounts. Eighteenth, for the chance to be helped by others and to be of help to others. Nineteenth, for the gift of humor during sour days. Twentieth, for the return of my installer CD at a time when I needed it most (but no thanks to the guy who borrowed it, who, when I asked for it, seemed uninterested to do anything).
Dearest God, I'll just stop at twenty for now. The rest I'll thank you for in my night prayers. Bless me. Bless all people I know. Bless all people I don't know. Bless all people who bless me, including those who curse me. Bless my brother, my sister, my tatay, my nanay. Bless all strangers I meet on the road. Bless us all always, so that we could have more than twenty reasons to thank you. |
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| Way to go, Me. |
[May. 25th, 2001|04:42 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | grateful | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Tenkyu, tenkyu, ang babaet neñu, tenkyu. | ] |
I've learned a lot. Some in laughter. Most in tears. Some take a short time. Others months. Some others years. Most lifetimes.
What have I learned so far?
I am indeed real and live in a real world. I used to imagine life as just a big playground...a big canvas on which to paint my fantasies. But I really had an ambivalent hold to that belief. Now it is confirmed. I am real.
The more I draw away from the lure of finding the right way, of stumbling into the right one, of being the right one...I've become more real. I've realized that there is no right way--every way is the same as the other. The present is the only lighted area of the map. Life is groping towards myself. There is no specific way.
There is no right one. Everyone is a prospect "right one." All it really takes is to accept the other and be willing to give and take. That's what relationships are all about. I give you what I have. You give me what you have. It's sharing, actually. If you have 75% and I have 75%, then we'll have more than 100%. Simple mathematical solution. Get back to the ground. I learn from you, you learn from me. We grow together. You commit mistakes, I forgive. I commit mistakes, you forgive. I go the extra mile. You do the same. We'll have extra miles to spare for a leisurely walk. It's called meeting half-way. However, there is, in fact, a thing called going all the way. But, humans as we are, we are sitting ducks for burnout. So if I give and give and give without receiving (or refuse to receive), then I burnout...and the bridge that connects you and me collapses.
So I give. You receive. You give. I receive. Give and take. Symbiosis. That's the rhythm of the universe. That's the beat of life. It's the refusal to dance to this tune that floods the world with pain and frustration.
I learned that I am not a blackhole. I am not just a gaping mouth waiting to devour everything fed into it. I can also give. I have many things to give. But I can only give as much as I have. So let's share so that I can give you more and so that you can give me more. Oh growth! Oh becoming!
And oh to be in the midst of a giving and receiving friendship! The first few cycles were teeming with erratic heartbeats, soaring adrenaline, skyrocketing excitement, glorious highs. Then came the dreaded mellowing. But no instantaneous death came. Heartbeats regular. Adrenaline level regular. Excitement in its normal peaks and valleys. Highs less glorious (still high) and lows dolorous (nothing THAT dolorous yet).
I am special. I allowed myself to be special. It's not fantasy "special." It's real special. I am real. Somebody touched my life, and there I realized that my life is real. No dreaming here. No drooling in the middle of REM here. Just reality, plain and simple, under the scrutiny of my and his open eyes.
It is special because it is innocent, unabashed, simple, plain. I am naked to him as he is to me. I have none to hide. Neither does he. No masks allowed. Everything is told. Everything hot and cold. Our insecurities die when we expose them as wounds for healing. I touch his wounds. He touches mine. I don't heal his wounds. I just witness them heal. And he does the same.
He touches a sensitive nerve. I retreat to my cave, cover myself with my former shrouds, close my eyes. Gently he beckons, "Ephpheta!" And I resurrect. We both die...and rise with each other's help. That's the triumph of these all.
Every touch of skin upon skin, we sing with Walt Whitman, of the body electric. Every touch a new sensation. Each touch a new feeling. And children of Adam as we are, we both feel secure at the sight, the taste, the fragrance, the feel, and the sound of our bodies clasped into one. He touches me here. I touch him there. In a little while we are already touching each other everywhere. No holds barred. He looks at this part of my body. Stares. Smiles. Nods. Then touches. No, feels. He Brailles my entire body, as if attempting to commit every hair, every fold every cavity, to memory. He Brailles me with his hands, with his lips, with his tongue, with his eyes, with all parts of his body. I bet no blind can beat that. And I do the same to him. And we enjoy it. And we take pleasure in it. And we communicate through it. And with small hands that not even the rain has, we open up each others soul, petal by petal as the Spring opens, touching skillfully, mysteriously, Her first rose.
We follow no particular instruction from any psychology book or self-help book. We just obey the wisdom (no matter how little) that we gained from experience. More wisdom scrolls are to be opened.
He's imperfect. But neither am I. I don't complain. I just accept. He does the same. He is not "sweet." I don't complain. He doesn't give me fancy things. I don't complain. He sometimes refuse. I grumble little, but let go a little later. He disturbs my thoughts often. I don't complain. He argues gently. I don't complain. He disagrees. I don't complain. He softly scolds me. I don't complain. He reprimands me. I don't complain.
I'm sick? No. I'm just aware of the love and affection that is present. That alone erases any reason for me to fear. That alone makes every word that stings less hostile. That alone makes me believe that every minus sign is a preparation for a plus sign. That alone adds more minutes to my life than a cigarette stick takes away seven.
Will it work out? Who knows? I should do my part. He should do his. If not, flop--just like the first, the second, the third, and the fourth, and the third coming back as fifth for a second rounder. Oh the fifth! What a coincidental number. "E" is the fifth letter of the Roman alphabet. My name has five letters. Coincidence of all coincidences! I shouldn't jump the boat five times and five times drown. Five times is enough for a five-lettered-named guy. (And I remember just now that we humans have less than nine lives.) I hope the sixth will be the last time to jump and finally swim to shore. If my numerological forecast should run true, this one should be a good one.
Just as with the first, the second, the third, the fourth, and the fifth, I will be expecting myself to do my part as if this sixth one is for a lifetime. And I will be learning a lot with him. We will be learning together. We will cry and laugh, for days, months, decades, years...for a lifetime. Together.
The best memory that I will ever have of him will be the firm and reassuring hold of his hand. Everything that he cannot say to me through words, he says through his hands. And that is enough for me. He is real to me. I value him. I am real to him. He values me. In fact, I behave this way because I value him THIS much. That's what matters, after all. For what matters not is the length of time we spend together, or how many seasons knock on our door and leave, or the large distance we've travelled, or the joy and sadness. What matters most is how much we value one another, and how much we give up of ourselves simply because of the way that we value the other.
To whoever first thought of creating a creature such as he and throwing him my way, I say: THANK YOU. |
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| Post Holy Week Reflections |
[Apr. 15th, 2001|03:21 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | Meditative | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Eagle's Wings | ] |
Though I have a far more radical stand about popular religiosity, I respect many Catholic Christians' profound expression of their faith. Some do border on superstition, most rest on miseducation about Christianity. But all, though imperfect and secular, are expressions. And these expressions are diverse and colorful.
I've often wondered why, with the richness of Catholic tradition and sublimity of Catholic liturgy, people still want to search for the very simple message of Jesus by using superfluity. Catholic liturgical celebrations are teeming with allusions to the Christian life and faith. But why aren't we maximizing the catechetical content of these celebrations? Why aren't we drinking from the same cup? Why aren't we breaking bread together?
Prayers, offices, masses...these celebrations are worth nothing to God. But why offer them? For whose sake? Prayer is for our sake, says Don Moen. Amen, says Fr. Ben Villote. The Gospel announces the good news. God has no need of our incense, fasting and sacrificial offerings. What God thirsts for is love and justice. What Jesus demands of us is love. Not loving in the popular, romantic and giggly sense, but loving as He has loved us. And what's worse, Jesus emphasized loving not as an invitation, but a command! In the Gospel (John 13:34) of every Maundy Thursday we find Jesus commanding us: Mandatum novum do vobis: ut dilig�tis invicem, sicut dil�xi vos.(A new commandment I give you: Love one another, as I have loved you.) The "Maundy" in Maundy Thursday comes from the Latin mandatum--a command.
I find it weird why people today find it taunting to be in silence and solitude. Perhaps there exists in silence the haunting mirror where we can look at ourselves face to face. And we don't want to look at our ugliness in the eye. All the time we live in agitation. We constantly seek distractions. We go to malls. We turn on the radio full blast. We hook up to the net. Who are we escaping from? Why? Who loses when we escape from ourselves?
Passiontide is not merely about remembrance and commemoration. It is a time also to look at the mangled body of that Nazarene and see in His wounds the challenge of loving one another fully. It is also a time for renewing our commitment to justice, to life, to freedom, to responsibility, to community, to compassion, to love. It is a time to remind us that miracles happen when we wash each other's feet. It is a time to remind us that if we want to change the world, we have to go against the grain of the self and of the world. It is a time to remind us of the example of God's Son to turn the other cheek and show passive, nonviolent resistance to inhumanity and injustice.
Perhaps that is the reason that we dread silence and solitude. We cannot afford to leave our comfort zones just to touch another ugly human being's hand. We do not have enough courage to take the crucified Jesus' invitation (and challenge) to resist injustice and to love like He does.
Be still and know that I am God.
And so we muffle His voice calling us to die and rise with Him. And so we drown His pained voice with temporary distractions of glitter, tinsel, music, and glamour. And so we squirm in His affirming embrace and we struggle for escape back to Ayala, and #bi-cebu, and the office, and favorite CDs, and things of the flesh. And we do this not just during the Lenten season, but all throughout the 365 days of the year. What have we found so far? We have searched, but not found. The Zen master would say, "Don't search. Just look."
Holy Week is more than just about giving up. It is about accepting the challenge of being a Christian in this world and turn the world upside down with the love that Jesus offered and died for--the very same love that vindicated His unjust slaughter. Giving up everything is just one of the "crosses" (a giving up) that Jesus invites those daring enough to follow Him to carry. Dying so that others might live is another consequence of following this crazy Man.
Will I be as crazy enough as His Mother? Stabat Mater dolor�sa, juxta crucem lacrym�sa, dum pend�bat F�lius. Crazy enough to withstand the humiliation and the jeers of the world, just to keep my station at the foot of the Cross? Crazy enough to see in the cross, not a symbol of defeat, but of victory? Crazy enough to walk with Him through Galilee, through Calvary, through the tomb, and through the third day? |
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| Easter Proclamation |
[Apr. 15th, 2001|02:24 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | Victorious | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Pange Lingua | ] |
EXSULTET jam ang�lica turba coel�rum; exs�ltent div�na myst�ria;
et pro tanti Regis vict�ria, tuba insonet salut�ris.
G�udeat et tellus tantis irradi�ta fulg�ribus;
et �t�rni Regis splend�re illustr�ta, tot�us orbis se s�ntiat amis�sse cal�ginem.
L�t�tur et mater Eccl�si�, tanti l�minis adorn�ta fulg�ribus;
et magnis popul�rum v�cibus h�c aula res�ltet.
Quapr�pter adst�ntes vos, fratres car�ssimi,
ad tam miram hujus sancti l�mini clar�tatem una mecum, qu�so,
Dei omnipot�ntis miseric�rdiam invoc�te.
Ut qui me non meis m�ritis intra levit�rum n�merum dign�tus est aggreg�re;
l�minis sui clarit�tem inf�ndens, c�rei hujus laudem impl�re perficiat.
Per D�minum nostrum Jesum Christum F�lium suum,
qui cum eo vivit et regnat in unit�te Sp�ritus Sancti Deus,
per �mnia s�cula s�culorum.
Agios o Theos!
Sanctus Deus!
Agios ischyros!
Sanctus fortis!
Agios ath�natos, el�ison imas.
Sanctus immortalis, miser�re nobis. |
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| Bring that Boody over here! |
[Apr. 6th, 2001|01:26 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | grateful | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Thank you, India. Thank you, Providence. Thank you, Silence. | ] |
Boody was in the house most of the days this week. Helped me think about a lot of things. Helped me WITH a lot of things. Helped me on MANY important things. Helped me on a few things that are extremely important to me but not necessarily for him. And he made it seem like he was enjoying helping me. This made me feel so grateful.
He IS a refreshing sight. He IS a refreshing experience. He IS a treasure. He IS one of those reasons to keep believing in the power of disinterested friendship. He IS one of those reasons to believe that life indeed is beautiful.
And he's straight while I'm gay. And there's no problem with that. |
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| Reply to Anonyy's reply to my recent post |
[Mar. 27th, 2001|12:50 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | amused | ] |
Anony Mous (anonyy) replied to your LiveJournal comment:
Subject: cge bye
this discourse ends here and now. kapoy na storya nimo. u keep sidetracking and u keep bombarding me with arguements that dont have anything to do with what i wanted to say in the first place. and i wont explain it to u either.
As expected. I stick to the issue, which presumably you commented on. Discussions fail when any of the parties keep on commenting on comments made about comments and thereby sail farther away from the original issue. Naturally, you don't have to explain more because you barked up the wrong tree (i.e., sidetracked to the wrong issue by begging the question and destroying the person instead of his argument).
maybe its time u started listening and stopped trying to impress.
Thank you for the implied compliment. Even if it did impress, my original intention was to express and to argue as logically as possible without resorting to brute force or fallacious reasoning. And maybe you could try listening and getting the gist first before making any comments.
and by the way, why are u carrying such a large banner for Penis' cause? oh i know. coz ur Penis. oh shut up elmer.
Whether I am PeNiSsss him/herself or not, I would still have made the same comments. It is not for PeNiSsss' sake that I "carry his/her large banner." It is because I find his arguments worth clarifying and looking into. His/Her arguments are valid and not maliciously intended to defame, demoralize, or degrade.
And stop meeting people sa public market atbang sa simbahan. they think its really tacky and they spread it around. and yes, this is a cheap shot!
Now that's what I call preference. Just because some people (you, for example) find PeNiSsss' preference "tacky and cheap (sic)," does not mean that everyone else looks at it the same way. As I said, one has to be wary of sweeping generalizations and bifurcations. Maybe you'd like to provide proof, outstanding and watertight proof, that PeNiSsss' preference is indeed tacky and cheap.
Perhaps you're referring to the church in Pardo, near where this PeNiSsss lives. Some corrections, if I may. The public market is not in front of the church. I should know because I've been there many times. As a matter of opinion, I find the public market really what it is--a public market that is expectedly messy and full of people. I personally find it a great place to experience because in there, one does not need to care if s/he is wearing clothes inside out, or if s/he forgot to zip his/her fly, or if s/he sings out of tune in front of a God-knows-who-invented-it videoke machine. In that place go people who need not wear expensive perfume, who need not put on a fake smile or imitate sincere laughter, who need not hide behind the cloak of anonymity out of fear and distrust, who need not put on masks just to make them feel that they belong. Perhaps you feel this way towards PeNiSsss' preference for this place (if indeed s/he does) because you haven't even the slightest idea what the place or the people are like. Maybe you could spare some time to visit the place, especially the top floor that has a splendid view of a part of the city and the sea. I suggest that you visit it on a cloudless night.
If I were this PeNiSsss, I wouldn't be worried if people find this preference as tacky and cheap. I wouldn't even worry if they spread the word around. If I were PeNiSsss, why should I be worried about something that is true (e.g., that I prefer to meet people in the public market, or in front of the church)? If I were PeNiSsss, why should I be worried about something that is not true (e.g., that I meet people in front of a church, or in a public market, or in a gym, or in a school, or wherever)?
:) one last line. There is a life beyond IRC. (im sure u find it hard to believe) Get one!
Life beyond IRC. Ahhh, finally we agree on one thing. Happily for you and for me, I have one. I'm sure you find it hard to believe that I have one. |
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| Reply to bastion's comment about a reply somebody left in my journal |
[Mar. 27th, 2001|12:46 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  contemplative | ] |
Mike (bastion) replied to another comment somebody left in your LiveJournal post:
Subject: Re: after edsa dos
ako pud..marc gave me OP powers but i seldom use it..okay, i park at #bc but i rarely chat there..but im a good OP, id like to think, when i see some abuse on the channel, then i will be compelled to use my OP thing...but not to this extent that some gall bladder is adamant at doing....
For the moment, what is considered channel abuse is Undernet abuse because the rules that are currently being followed are those of Undernet's. Within this context, I laud your efforts to be a good op. |
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| Reply to iDoMiS' reply about a comment left by another user |
[Mar. 27th, 2001|12:43 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  naughty | ] |
iDoMiS and Seminal Poetry (chronicles) replied to another comment somebody left in your LiveJournal post:
Subject: Re: after edsa dos
not even marc, kong buut huna - hunaon, gi si marc lang ang ni galam, aptly called "steward". pero ambot matingala ko sa ubang tawo kay molopad ang atay dayon, modako ang ulo pagnaka patong na ibabaw kay x.
Marc mentioned in the transcript that the Channel Manager is an institution. I didn't know what he meant by this. If the CM is only the "steward" of an Undernet channel, then who is the rightful owner? Please correct me if I am wrong, but as far as I can remember, Undernet has explicitly expressed that it doesn't interfere with channel operations as long as no Undernet rules are broken. Undernet owns the server and allows registered channels to use the server. Owning the server is different from owning the channel. The Channel Manager owns the channel.
Surely you must be referring to some specific person(s) when you said, "...matingala ko sa ubang tawo kay molapad ang atay dayon (sic), modako ang ulo pagnaka (sic) patong na ibabaw kay X." I'm sure that you are disappointed with this kind of attitude from them. Perhaps you can do something positive to correct it. You can always choose between making passing and ambiguous statements about a wrongdoing, and privately, gently confronting the wrongdoer with his/her error. The former is reactivity and fear. The latter is proactive courage and fraternal correction.
*hahay* marc i suggest, ipahuwam imong sash, crown, og uban pa. kay naay gustong mopuli nimo. ahihi. if there's a tease op. there's a tease channel manager.
I have no idea about who has intentions of dethroning the Channel Manager. If anyone, in truth, has any such intention, let him/her explicitly state it publicly.
ahihihi tehehehhee. my tummy is rocking hard here. |
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| Reply to bastion |
[Mar. 27th, 2001|12:40 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  high | ] |
Mike (bastion) replied to your LiveJournal post:
oh brother! there is more to life than that! its a waste of space....
Whose space is it wasting? There is indeed more to life than just going to work, sleeping, eating at fancy restaurants, sweating the night away in bars, typing hysterically at the keyboard, chatting with friends, etc. What makes life more worth living and enjoying is the dreaming of impossible dreams, fighting unbeatable foes, bearing unbearable sorrow, running where the brave dare not go, righting the unrightable wrong, being better far than you are, trying when one's arms are too weary, reaching for the unreachable star, following that star no matter how hopeless, no matter how far, fighting for the right without question or pause, marching into hell for a heavenly cause...And the world is a better place because two thousand years ago one Man, scorned and covered with scars still strove with His last ounce of courage to reach the unreachable star.
Now tell me, would you say that Don Quixote lived a useless life just because he attacked windmills?
Where one is lacking in courage for proactive response to "silly and senseless" thoughts such as those posted, one can find enough courage to ignore those thoughts. |
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mytherious's journal