Point of View

The night started the way we first shared a home:

“Hi, love.”

I smiled and linked our hands together. “How do you always know when I can’t sleep?”

“Look at me.”

I did.

He was looking at me, eyes darker than usual with a hint of mischief. Grinning, he winked at me, and I swear I’d fallen in love with him again. It was our own inside joke and it had never once failed to deliver. This man right here was the only reason I could fall asleep.

“You’re not sleepy at all?” I asked him, pinching his cheeks.

“No. I’m always too awake for you.”

I’d asked him many times that same question and still his answer was the same. He was always wide awake for me. He couldn’t sleep without me falling asleep first. I was getting worried, and whenever I’d pretend to sleep, he’d be there – talking animatedly almost as if he could sense me listening.

“I almost didn’t come to work today,” I told him, “I had to force myself to get up and do my thing. I don’t know why.”

“It’s one of those days, huh?” His face was pensive, his eyes full of understanding.

“One of what?”

“You lose all motivation and just question everything. Why go to work? Why do all the trouble of earning money? Why can’t I just lay down here and stay with him? Why do I even bother to try?”

I sighed. “I’m sorry. Does that bother you?”

“Not at all, but I’m glad you got up today. I’m glad you tried. I’m glad you lived.”

“It’s just another day, nothing special.” I took his hand and squeezed it hard. It felt nice. It felt good. It felt just like home.

He pulled my right hand and kissed my knuckles. “Just another day, but to the world it means everything. To me it means bravery. Now, do you ever wonder how you got into this life? Like you control your body, you think with your own mind, you feel with your own heart. How does that happen? How do you become you?”

I thought about it. If there was one thing that went much different from who I was, then wouldn’t it mean I’d cease to exist? Just how many kinds of personality, gestures, flaws, attitudes, beliefs, thoughts, and perspectives did God have to mix together in order to create my soul?

“I don’t know. Maybe I was in Heaven and these angels are all like oh hey, look at that one, she’s not doing anything. Send her down to Earth,” I suggested.

He chuckled and leaned in close to me, one arm slung across my chest, his dead-lock embrace preventing me from moving. “What if you actually came from below?”

“You’re funny.”

“I know. That’s why you love me.”

This time, it was my turn to offer a laugh. “Hmm, but if you think about it, we could actually come from Hell. What if people are the creation of both heaven and hell, hence, the good and bad in us? We have our own angels and demons, and maybe we serve as the arbitrator between the two. It’s just that sometimes when our own angels don’t grant our wishes, we turn to our demons. When our demons get out of control, they tend to weaken us and so our angels come to our rescue, thus making us the gray area again.”

My lover stared at me, his gaze full of questions and answers. He looked at me like I was his gray area and he didn’t know what to do with it. He smiled at me as if he couldn’t help himself.

“How can hell create?” he asked.

“Maybe it used to be a part of something. Maybe it used to be one of heaven’s realm and Lucifer took it because it was God’s favorite part of heaven. Maybe the same can be said about love. We took love and made a hell out of it,” I whispered softly, nuzzling his nose. “I miss you.”

Leisurely, he took my lips, his mouth pressed against mine. There was no rush, just the slow dance of our lips. In between kisses, he said, “I’m always here. You know that, don’t you?”

I believed him.

Moments later, we fell asleep.

When I woke up, he was gone.

It’s been years since he died, and yet the promise of his love lingered.

Maybe God had finally taken back my love and created a heaven out of it.  

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Maxine Medina: More than the Terno

“Maria Mika Maxine Medina, Philippines!”

Confident and laced with strong words of conviction, Maxine Medina stunned the hometown crowd with her performance during the pageant preliminaries.

She is no longer just a woman with the elegance of a beauty queen. She now has the tenacity of a beast too — dominating, ruthless and savage with a will to become more than what she is right now. With each sweet smile and captivating catwalk, she is out to prove all her doubters wrong.

And yet she still receives an endless stream of online bashers, especially after her comments about the terno — when she said that former First Lady Imelda Marcos invented this fashion style.

Granted, Maxine should have been careful with her facts and words. In the book Fashionable Filipinas: An Evolution of the Philippine National Dress in Photographs, 1860-1960, historical research indicates that the terno was a collective effort, no one person invented it.

Maxine’s error was likely an honest mistake, and not an attempt at historical revisionism. She sincerely apologized for this as she clarified that Imelda did not invent the terno but made it popular. Imelda favored the elaborated butterfly sleeves and single dress over anything else in her wardrobe — making public appearances as an icon of luxurious fashion and lavish lifestyle at the peak of the Marcos presidency. From these butterfly sleeves, she became known as the Iron Butterfly, referring to her increasingly growing role back then in governance.

But the terno is more than Imelda. It also forms part of the fabric of our historical heritage. Some may say it’s just a simple dress; it’s not. It is a symbol of Filipino women and the centuries of pain they endured from colonizers and their struggle to find their place in society.

Maxine is cut from the same cloth as notable Filipinas in our history who had to overcome odds and adversities in order to succeed. And she’s doing it with style! As fellow Filipinos, we shouldn’t bring her down.

During the preliminaries, Maxine owned the stage. She created an impenetrable bubble filled with thoughts of winning. Just her, relishing the moment, exuding bliss, and oozing with such beauty that dances and twirls with her beastly competitive nature.

She got this.

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Bawat bansa ay may sari-sariling pagkakakilanlan; may pangalan, kaugalian, paniniwala, at kultura na siyang bumubuo sa kanilang pagkatao. Hindi naiiba ang mga Pilipino sa mga ganitong bagay. Ang mga Pilipino pa nga ang pinaka-kakaiba sa kanilang lahat dahil mayroon tayong katangian na lubusang humuhubog sa ating pagka-makabayan. Gaya nga ng sabi ng Departamento ng Turismo, “It’s more fun in the Philippines!” kaya naman Pilipino ka kung…

1.     May larawan ng “The Last Supper” sa kusina o hapag-kainan niyo.

2.     Kahit na may makabagong teknolohiya na gaya ng vacuum ay hindi mawawala ang walis at ting-ting sa inyong bahay.

3.     Mahilig ka mag-miryenda ng tusok-tusok na fishball, squidball, kikiam, isaw, kalamares, at kwek-kwek. Hindi maikakaila na ang pagiging Pilipino ay ang pagkahilig sa pagkain.

4.     Tabo ang ginagamit mo pang-salok sa tubig sa paliligo.

5.     Isinasawsaw mo ang tinapay sa kape.

6.     Napapalingon ka kapag may sumisitsit sa daan. Ito ang kadalasang pantawag sa ating mga Pilipino.

7.     Bumibili ka ng mga damit, bag, at sapatos sa ukay-ukay.

8.     Isinisingit mo ang tiket mo sa bus sa sulok o gilid ng upuan.

9.     Mahilig ka sa tingi, lalo na ang piso-pisong kendi.

10.  Naliligo ka sa ulan at sumusulong sa baha.

Ilan lamang ito na nagpapakilala sa atin bilang isang Pilipino. Ito’y isang patunay na lumisan man tayo sa ating bayang pinanggalingan ay hinding-hindi natin makakalimutan ang ating pinagmulan; mga nakasanayang kaytagal na nating ginagawa. Kaya naman taas noo nating ipagmalaki ang ating lahi. Ikaw, ako, siya, sila, at tayong lahat ay Pilipino.  

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They call her Selene, the Blood Moon, the total lunar eclipse. She envelops the Earth and bathes in its umbra – a shadow of secret stories told by the moon whisperers. In a celestial alignment, where she becomes full and Earth comes between her and the Sun, a remarkable blood red unveils a cosmic glory. It is a heavenly sight; a perfect gift to her love, the Earth.

Everyone has known the story of the Sun and Moon’s endless chase, but what of the Earth and the Moon?

While the Sun scorches and consumes, Earth soothes and subsides. The Earth is her sea of tranquillity, its people her children.

Everyone has welcomed her exquisite beauty, but what of her craters?

She possess the beauty of an angel, but obscures the scars of a devil. See her as both science and art – two contradicting and yet complimenting forces – and only then can one’s soul freely delve into her existence.  

Everyone has fallen in love with her, the luminescence of the dark skies.

The moon glows with rapture as the night flourishes. Her lustre’s captivating and enamoring, illuminating the dusk with borrowed light. She has no power to produce her own light. Love the Moon, but also love the Sun and Stars, for she can only glow in radiance with the bodies of heaven.

And today, in the grand scheme of things, where the universe and all the magic there is coincides, Selene absorbs the refraction of Earth’s light. She takes on different shades of red, orange, and gold. She enforces a red ring around the Earth and summons the impossibility of watching all the ethereal sunsets and sunrises occurring at a specific moment. She becomes a miracle, a promise, a hope.

Spectate the picturesque lunar eclipse, the straight line formation of three cosmic bodies: the Sun, the Earth, and the Moon.

Gaze upon Selene and marvel at the way the world exists in this plane of reality. Each orbit counts a moment in time (a month or so) and provides Earth just the right gravitational pull. Unique and exceptional, the Moon is a fairy tale in making.

The Red Moon, strange and striking, rises as red as the dawn.

The Blood Moon, potent and gleaming, regenerates the spirit as resolutely as the phoenix.

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Take a sip, have a taste. Go on, do not be afraid. I am your virtue and vice, the poison and the antidote in your soul. Let your hands explore the unmapped territories of the human body. Relish it, savour it. The mouth-watering exquisite tang of sin has never tasted this good. Let me reign and devour you whole. Are you not willing? You indulge me for the many things you so crave. Ask and you shall receive, master. Yours is the power to dominate and crush the will of others. Yours is the fame for your name shall be written in the tombstones of hell. Yours is the gratification and hedonism for I will happily invite you in my prison of endless sensations.

Touch it. See it. Taste it. Smell it.

Take what’s rightfully yours, you puny mortal.

You are made to bathe in the luxury of sin. Bask in its glory. Live with it. Celebrate your debaucheries and then present yourself to me.

I am nothing but a humbled servant of hell. I am Luxuria – Lust – deadly and corruptive.

Just like you, I crave many things. I want you. I need you. I am obsessed with whatever you feed me, so go on. Feed me with your thoughts and I shall sleep blissfully in your subconscious, already wrapped around in Lucifer’s seal of persecution.

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“Je t’aime.”

It was your eyes.

The eyes that gazed longingly outside, hoping to be free from the room we were in. You wouldn’t look at anyone. You wouldn’t answer your phone. You were too absorbed by whatever fantasy you had in your mind you didn’t even notice me looking at you. And did you know what I saw in your eyes at that moment?

The entire universe.

“Wo Ai Ni.”

It was your smile.

The smile that turned into a huge grin. You were always making a fool of yourself, always laughing at the silliest things. You made everyone burst with so much happiness. I wondered then, were you really happy that day?

I didn’t mean to mock you, but as soon as you turned your back from us, you crumbled and cried silently.

“Te Amo.”

It was your mind.

The mind that was filled with every word, every stroke of art, and every touch of endless possibilities. You wanted to explore the world and bask in its glory, but reality was holding you back.

Would you share with me your dreams and fears?

“Mahal Kita.”

It was your heart.

The heart that loved hard. The heart that went thump, thump whenever you’d spread your invisible wings. The heart that almost stopped because you couldn’t stand to be stuck in one place. I was glad you lived, because then I got to marry you. I got to explore hidden coves, find uncharted places, eat exotic food, get lost on the interconnecting rail tracks, and fly with you.

I love you in every language, but most of all I love you for conquering this life.

-       My Ex-Husband’s Letter

I smiled despite the tears.

“Grandma?”

Wrapping my arms around this small child, I whispered, “Love. Love until it breaks you, so you can come out stronger than before.”

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The pillars of the language world has been marked with a new set of designs. In this fast paced growing world, words have taken a dramatic and exaggerated turn in the past few months. The agent? Millennials.

Today’s society says that if you want to talk to a millennial, you have to speak their language. They are, after all, known for their inquisitive thoughts of twisting and turning ideas, most especially in the way they communicate what they have in mind. Part of this maybe-not-so-modern-at-all variation of slang words are: Petmalu, inverted word for Malupet, meaning, amazing; Lodi, reversed word for Idol, someone you look up to; Werpa, scrambled word for Pawer, as in intensity of power, to give support.

These may all sound new, but it actually isn’t. It’s more of an upgrade from the 70’s syllable-wrapping words, the inversion of letters. Remember well that inverting new words are just adorning your parents’ and grandparents’ classical years of language play. They may look at you peculiarly, but just know they spoke it first.

Here are some of the most vintage slang words you may or may not have probably heard before:

1)    Astig (inverted from Tigas) – It means extremely awesome, astounding and extraordinary. It takes its meaning in the literal English translation of Tigas, which is “hard”. Astig incorporates a sense of “bad-assry”.

In a sentence: “Ang galing niya naman sumayaw! Astig!”

2)    Amats (inverted from Tama) – It’s the moment of being in a state of drunkenness, of being high and intoxicated.

In a sentence: “Lakas na ng amats ko, siya pa rin hinahanap ko.”

3)    Dehins/Deins (inverted from Hindi) – A negative response; No. Nope. No way. Not.

In a sentence: “Mahal mo pa ba siya? Akala ko ba dehins na?”

4)    Olats (inverted from Talo) – It speaks of losing, of failing. It generally associates a feeling of disappointment, pitifulness, and hopelessness. Usually discouraging.

In a sentence: “Minahal ko siya ng sobra. Binigay ko na ang lahat. Olats ako.”

5)    Ermat/Erpat (inverted from Mater/Pater) – It means mother/father. It stems from the Latin words Mater and Pater.

In a sentence: “Nako, naka-ilang missed calls na si Ermat, yari na naman ako nito pag-uwi ko.”

6)    Tsikot (inverted from Kotse) – A car. Automobile.

In a sentence: “Gusto kong tsikot mala-ferrari balang araw!”

7)    Batsi (inverted from Sibat) – An informal way to say “leave.”

In a sentence: “Saan ka pupunta? May susunod na klase ka pa, ah? Batsi ka na?”

8)    Yosi (inverted from SIgarilYo) – It refers to cigarettes.

In a sentence: “Bilhan mo nga ‘kong yosi sa tindahan ni Aling Bebang.”

Truly, there are still a lot of words we are yet to decode, but the fact remains: language will evolve and will continuously be somehow more complex and nevertheless be simpler. This is proof that no matter what era it is, words will always have a hold on us, a lurking meaning behind every letter. Enrich it, and you’ll be surprised at what you can find.

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The dates mark each day, slowly but surely cocooning it into a dreamlike memory. The year 2018 is fast approaching and there’s only so much I can say about this year. In life’s hard truths and troubling doubts, 2017 is a year filled with so much memories no matter how good or bad. Here are some of the things that would definitely leave a mark for next year:

1.     People leave. It doesn’t matter who they are or how long you’ve spent some time with them, they will leave for good and bad reasons. It’s oddly always a combination of both. Sometimes, it’s you. Sometimes, it’s them. Sometimes, life just happens and that’s okay. Maybe you both just reached life’s crossroads and ended up choosing your own fate.

2.     It doesn’t always work the way you planned it to. Surprise, surprise! Everything is a chain of consequences and reactions. What you have in mind is simply a framework of a chance possibility and it is up to you to decide how to thread the links together and make it work. It also won’t hurt to enjoy the little detours.

3.     Passion isn’t always going to be passion. Passion can be poison; dangerous, intoxicating, and yet so addicting. Everyone almost expects you to start doing your craft when the reality of it is that it sucks you dry. It can either fill you up with so much emotions or abandon you with a hollowness you can’t escape from. There will be times it will fail you, but don’t ever let it die.

4.     Sleep isn’t just sleep, sleep is an escape. At some point this year, you may have forced yourself to sleep, thinking that you want to disappear in this world. You could never suppress the feeling of needing to escape. That is fine. Escape as much as you want you. Dream as many dreams as you want to – and then wake up. Wake up and face the world again.

5.     Hearts can’t really be broken. You can’t claim your heart to be broken when you purposely gave pieces of it to all the people you loved. The sum of all the people you gave it to makes your heart full and complete. The only reason why it hurts is because they take the shattered piece of your heart with them whenever they leave.

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To be an artist means to paint wonderful colors on the canvas.

To be a singer means to voice out heartfelt emotions.

To be an actor means to portray a thousand different lives.

To be a dancer means to sway along the music and free your soul.

We all want to be someone. I’m no different. When I was a little kid, I always wanted to have a talent that really shows off. I could be a painter, a musician, an actor, a dancer, or any other thing that could be performed on stage in front of a huge crowd. I would always daydream about it, the day where people would clap their hands for me, stunned and in awe of my performance. So when I grew up and found myself writing, I was disappointed.

Although I love words, writing isn’t something I’ve thought of doing. Writing isn’t a talent you perform on stage. You can’t just expect people to watch you write. Nonetheless, I continued to write, because what else could I do? It’s the only thing I’m good at and yet I still fail time and time again. Most days, I can’t write anything at all. The thing I loved most is failing me. Or maybe it’s the other way around. I guess I keep on looking at the other talents that I’m starting to forget that I already have one.

I neglected my passion for creating blurring reality and fantasy of diverse worlds. I disregarded my very own audience, the dreamers and believers. And most of all, I abandoned what I love.

Never again.

To be a writer means to tell stories.

If you have a burning passion, don’t douse that fire in you. Nurture it. Enrich it. Don’t ever think about leaving it behind. Be envious, but only with appreciation. Leave your mark and let the world remember you for eternity. The universe is pulsing with emotions because of us: the artists of every kind.  

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“Hi. You’re all probably looking at me and thinking, what is she doing there? To tell you the truth, I don’t know. I still can’t collect all of my thoughts. My friends and family are undoubtedly nervous right now. Maybe you all thought I’m here to deliver a love speech – about how much the love I feel right now burns. That’s what I should be doing, but I know it’s not something I could easily just do. What is love? I don’t know. Well, I know what it’s supposed to feel like, but I don’t know what it really feels like; to love and to be loved. See, this is the part where it gets tricky.

You’re all looking up at me, thinking what a great person I am. I’m not. I committed sins I knew I’d do all over again if given another chance, but if someone were to ask me why and say, ‘Don’t worship your sins. Only your demons can do that, and even they don’t deserve your sins.’ They don’t, because I was the one who did it. I have to own up my crimes. And if someone made me realize that, then I guess that’s love.    

Most of you know me as this joker. Still there’s some who would beg to differ. You all have to understand this: I’m a terribly sad person. There will be times I won’t want to leave the bed, but if someone were to join me and tell me, ‘Let’s have a day,’ then I guess that’s love.

There was this one time I almost had a job. I didn’t get it. They told me I wasn’t the one they were looking for. It crushed me. The real world was a scary place and it was not a place for a beginner like me, but if someone were to hug me and whisper, ‘It’s just the beginning,’ then I guess that’s love.

I had a lapse of judgment. I fought my parents. I screamed and threw things at them. I cursed and loathed them. They wouldn’t even bother to try and listen, so I ran away, but if someone were to scream these words at me: ‘They love you. You’re the one who refuses to listen!’ then I guess that’s love.

I’m not a smart person. I’m not really beautiful – please don’t interrupt me. You’re my friends, so you all pretty much have to say I am. I don’t really know who I am sometimes. I don’t know what I can offer to that someone, to that if, to that impossibility, until it became something real. No one ever really tried to date me. Nobody asked me out. My relatives kept pestering me about my love life and it weighed me down. It shouldn’t be like that. Things take time. Please don’t ever ask me again about this because it’s just making me question my worth and I don’t like that.

My point is, love has no formal definition. Love can take up a lot of meanings and still make sense. Love differs from one person to another because it’s that unique. And for me, love is living the life I want, no matter how hard and hopeless it becomes.

So to the man I love, the impossibility of my life, will you marry me? You already popped the question months ago and I said yes. This wedding’s supposed to go smoothly tonight, but I ran away, terrified that I won’t be enough for you. So I told you I won’t be showing up, and yet you still did. You waited and didn’t tell anyone about your runaway bride.

I came back because I saw this man. I saw him look at me and say, ‘You may be a runaway, but you’re still my bride.’

My love, I’m so sorry. I love you. Can we still go through the wedding? I promise you, no more running away. Will you have me ‘til death do us part?”

My soon-to-be-husband ran down the aisle and wiped my tears away. He was crying too, so I kissed his tears goodbye.

“I’ll have you in every life, my runaway bride.”

“Will you marry me?” I sniffed.

“Yes.”

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In line with such momentous event are the world’s greatest infamous lovers known to surpass the ages of time: Shakespeare’s most tragic love story Romeo and Juliet, Egypt’s powerful love affair Antony and Cleopatra, Homer’s Iliad Paris and Helen of Troy, and Orpheus and Eurydice’s ancient Greek tale of desperate love all surely began with an ominous feeling that happily ever after is not well-lived in some tales after all.  

Every happy ending has a shrouded cryptic history that blurs the line between the truth and the perceptive idea of its end result. In a chronicle woven by the past, it is much anticipated that a celebration such as Valentine’s Day will be blissfully filled with romantic acts. However, it is just the shallow stretch of its ocean of mysteries. Just like any other moving tales, Valentine’s Day has a dark origin to be told.

THE LEGEND OF ST. VALENTINE

In the modern world today, February is established as a month of love where St. Valentine’s Day holds vestiges of both Christian and ancient Roman tradition. But who is this St. Valentine’s that many associate with the ancient rites?

According to the Catholic Church, they recognize at least three different martyred saints named Valentine or Valentinus. One account claims that Valentine was a priest during the third century in Rome. At that time, Emperor Claudius II believed that single men made better soldiers than those who had wives and families, so he outlawed marriage for young men. Valentine strongly defied this verdict by marrying Christian couples and possibly attempting to convert Emperor Claudius II. When the Emperor found out about the secret marriages, he ordered for the death of Valentine. Due to the marital angle of the story, Valentine then was honoured as the patron saint of love, young people, and marriages.

As time went on, some reports even contend that Valentine fell in love; he was the first person to ever send a “valentine” greeting to a young girl who was possibly his jailor’s daughter. Before his demise, he allegedly wrote a letter signed with “From your Valentine,” an expression still used today.

A lot of things may seem to be murky for the legend St. Valentine’s but three things are for sure: the stories emphasize him to be sympathetic, heroic, and romantic. By the middle ages, the connotation involved in St. Valentines would spread in England and France where he would become one of the most popular saints.

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