Rant of a casual fan

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Last time I checked, we’re living in the 21st century.

Last time I checked, we’re living in a society that respects freedom of speech, religion, press, and choice.

And last time I checked, we’re living in a world where RESPECT is given to everyone who has different beliefs; ergo, live and let live.

Then why are there still groups of people who think, believe, and act that they are the ones who know better and force feed you into accepting that they are right and you are wrong?  Was time travel already invented that I didn’t know about and had people from ancient times transported into the present?

Yes, I’m talking about all the unwarranted attention about the two-night concert of one Lady Gaga starting tomorrow.  Apparently, some religious nut-jobs are trying to stop the so-called “devil incarnate” from performing for all her die-hard and casual fans; all because of one song that has lyrics they deemed “blasphemous” and “satanic.”

All because of one song?  Are you serious?  How may hits has this artist produced?  How many albums did she sell?  And you’re up in arms over ONE song?

I must admit I’m not one of her die-hard fans.  I wouldn’t even call myself her casual fan.  Heck, I only have some of her songs on my iPod (around five, I think).  And I don’t even listen to those songs on a regular basis.  But I respect what this artist has done.  She has that charisma and talent that captured audiences worldwide.  Some are even labeling her as the new Madonna.  And yet for all her accomplishments, these blinder-covered, attention-hungry religious groups choose to label her as evil, adding that she is a “very bad influence” to whoever listens to her songs.

I am also a Catholic.  B0rn and raised.  And being one, let me quote one of the more memorable lines in the Bible for me, which was said by Jesus himself:  “whichever one of you has committed no sin may throw the first stone.” (John 8:7).  These people condemning Lady Gaga are so quick to judge that they forget to look within themselves.  Yes, I have also seen the lyrics of the controversial song, and yes, I agree that it puts a negative reference on Jesus as well.  But here’s the thing:  that’s just one person.  Do you really believe that her fans will put to heart what those lyrics say?  If so, then there’s something really wrong with you.  You call yourselves religious, yet you do not have faith in other people in making the right decisions for themselves.  That also means you do not trust the institutions that teach what is right and wrong.  It is in these absurd moments that sometimes, I feel ashamed to be somehow religiously associated with those people.  Listening to one song does not make one instantly evil as much as listening to a different song does not make one instantly a saint.

The calls for canceling her concert are outright stupid.  Remember, it’s just entertainment.  Pure and simple.  It’s no different from what we watch on TV or in the movies.  Why don’t they get as much attention as Lady Gaga is getting?  What these groups are doing is suppression of freedom of speech.  Yes, we understand your concerns and reasoning behind it.  But accord the concert producers, paying patrons and fans the same respect.  If you still believe that listening to her and being a fan of hers will lead one straight to hell, then so be it.  It is their choice, not yours.  I’m not being indifferent, it’s called respect for the choices one makes.

Yet sadly, respect is always preached, never practiced…  at least by them religious fanatics.  That’s why they belong in ancient times in the first place.

A passion re-launched

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It’s never easy when a hobby is based on creativity.  You can only do so much and will run out of ideas sooner or later.  But if you’re passionate about that hobby, you will find a way to keep it going.  I have been blogging for eight years now.  I may have had stretches of being “quiet,” but never did I consider giving up on blogging completely.  After all, being a Gemini means that you crave communication; and what better way to make myself heard and to express it how I want it than this particular avenue which started out of an idea of wanting to keep my thoughts and ideas organized.  And it turned out to be one of the most significant things I’ve done in my life.

The decision to transfer to a new blog provider was born out of necessity.  I.ph sent me an email in March saying that their closing their free blog services later this month and asked me to register–if I wanted–to keep the blog active for two years at $14.00.  Honestly speaking, I don’t quite get the idea of spending close to a thousand pesos to maintain a blog site with limited customization possibilities, not to mention technical support capabilities for two years.  So I passed on their offer and started the painstaking task of archiving all of my blog entries since 2004.  But I still had to choose where to have my new home.  After creating accounts in LiveJournal, Blogger, and WordPress, and navigating through their individual dashboards, I settled here.  Yet, in fairness to I.ph, they did send me instructions on how to transfer all my entries (including comments) to WordPress.  This happened while I was already halfway in manually copying and pasting all of my entries (I was about a week in).  At least they saved me more time and helped move up re-launching my blog.

I suppose this was also what I needed to revive my passion for blogging.  Doing a manual copy and paste of entries made me read most of them and made me realize why I started blogging in the first place.  In person, I may not speak much, but when I write, ideas seem to flow like water on a river going downstream.  Yes, I may have had attempts to get myself writing again before, but I guess maybe a transfer of homes is just what the doctor ordered.  I thought of re-launching this yesterday, but I felt it’ll be better to have it today, the start of my birth month.

So, welcome to my new home.  Hopefully this will be the final transfer I’ll be making.  I suppose with WordPress, it should be.  I hope that my regular readers (thank you for your continued support) would continue to visit, as well as entice new readers to take a stab my entries in hopes of making them regular followers.  Make yourselves at home, and like I always say, feel free to comment on what I write.  Don’t be shy.

Scorching hot outside, ain’t it?

treading on

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Yesterday marked my seventh year in blogging.  Though the last couple of years have seen off-and-on entry making (more off than on), I have never thought of quitting my passion for writing.  Yes, the phenomenal rise of Twitter and Facebook brought about the age of microblogging (which I am also guilty of), but I try to make sure that once in a while, I speak my mind in a way that requires more than 160 characters long.
 
And what better way to have an anniversary entry than what transpired this weekend.  It’s an emotional roller coaster ride of some sorts, as in just a span of hours, I was witness to both a funeral and a birthday celebration.
 
Last week, the father of one of my childhood friends died of a heart attack.  It comes as a shock to us in the neighborhood as last we saw him, he was healthy and had no signs of illness.  Our families have long been friends as they live just across from us.  He, along with other family patriarchs (ours included) pioneered our neighborhood in the late 70s.  I visited the wake this past Tuesday and me and my childhood friend had a long talk.  It was more on catching up since we haven’t spoken to each other in ages, mainly due to our careers being prioritized.  Yet, whenever we do manage to see each other across our own house gates, we never fail to say a quick hello.  I know my friend is the strong, silent type (just like me since we were born just two days apart), but deep inside I know he’s an emotional wreck.  I spent a good hour and a half at the wake after coming straight from work to show my support to a friend and family who has been nothing but good to us.
 
Saturday morning was the funeral.  Again, coming from the office, I went straight to the cemetery since I knew I won’t be able to make it in the final mass at the chapel.  I arrived just in time as I waited near the cemetery entrance and the funeral procession pass by.  I can see the grief by the family members as they walk behind the hearse followed by cars of relatives, friends, and other neighbors.  As we reached the final resting place, emotions grew more and more somber.  I’m unable to remember the last time I attended a funeral, and the one thing I feel uncomfortable about it is all the emotions pouring out as the coffin is opened one last time for the immediate family to see the deceased before it’s laid in the ground.  It is during this time that my eyes well up as I share in the family’s grief, and this one was no different.  I’ve known the man ever since I can remember, and though I don’t really see him that often, his presence across the street will be missed.  As all the ceremony and formalities ended, I went over to the bereaved family.  I first came over to my friend and shook his hand.  I didn’t say anything, as I knew that no words are worth saying at that time, and that my presence there was enough.  After staying for a couple more minutes as my mom and other neighbors were talking, we went home.
 
After getting a few hours of sleep, it was time for my uncle’s 69th birthday celebration.  It’s not a lavish celebration, just a simple gathering of close family over food, and of course, booze.  What’s noticeable in this one though was how few we have become ever since some of my cousins have left to live and work abroad.  Just a couple of years ago, whenever one of us would have a birthday, it was a big reunion of some sorts (not like it’s a reunion everyday since we always see each other).  We would be the life of the street, as the air is filled with stories, jokes, laughter and music.  Though it has mellowed down over the course of time with family members leaving left and right for greener pastures, what was important is the presence of the people who were there.  In a couple of weeks, another uncle will be turning 70 and another celebration will take place.  Most likely, the people who were there this past Saturday, will also be the ones who will be attending that gathering.  Those celebrations are one of the things I never really grow tired of.  On this weekend’s party though, I somehow controlled my alcohol intake since I still have a report due the office that I had to finish; and I had to make sure I was still in the right frame of mind when I finally finish it.  We ended up before 11PM and helped clean up.  I went home–a little bit tipsy, but happy nonetheless–and was able to properly do, finish, and submit my report via email.
 
As I laid on my bed to end the day, I took stock of everything that has happened in the past 24 hours.  One is a blanket of sadness due to death, and the other, a vibrant air of happiness in a celebration of life.  Life and death.  It couldn’t be more simpler, nor more complicated than that.  And if you look objectively at it, one does not outweigh the other.  They are simply canceling each other out.
 
So as I celebrate another year of blogging, I am reminded of the simplicity and complexity of life, and how we write our own stories by the things we do.  Some may be good, others may be bad, but we are all reminded that whatever we do in this life, all of us, eventually will reach that place where it all ends.  Sounds morbid to some, but this is just a small reminder that how we live our life is up to us.  Enjoy it, dread it, whatever you want to do with it, one way or the other, we’ll all get there.  As for me, I’ll continue to be who I am, being a witness to the journey of life, writing everything that comes to mind.  It may not be as best-selling material as big name authors have, but it’s a perspective I can call my own, wherein I’d like the whole world to see and take part of.
 
 

stumped and head-scratching

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Here’s a quick question:  what if you found out that the woman you like turns out to be in a relationship…  with another woman?
 
I honestly thought that query wouldn’t come across me.  But it did.  My initial reaction?  “I never thought.”  Yes, that incomplete.  Somehow, I thought that on the flipside, when women come across hot guys that turn out to be in a relationship with another guy (I still cringe at that thought, ugh), they react with disappointment; but for me, I somehow would be “turned on” at the thought.  But…  like I said, “I never thought.”  How did I get to know this information?  From sources who know that I have a thing for her.
 
I suppose the more next question after that is, would I still pursue her?  Or more importantly, would I look at her the same way?  I guess lucky for me, I still haven’t gotten to that stage that we really are friends.  Admittedly, I still feel that tingling feeling everytime she would greet me by name when we do come across each other.  But that is exactly how I would describe our current relationship.  Just colleagues.  Why haven’t I taken it further?  Well, she works days and I work nights.  And the only time I get to see her (mostly, because she doesn’t see me) is when I pass by her area on the way to badging out at the end of my shift.  Of course, I make sure I do pass by her area just to get a glimpse of her (even though there is a shorter way).  She has this aura around her and a spell-binding gaze on her lovely eyes and smile that makes me stupid speechless whenever she looks at me as I attempt to initiate a conversation during those passing moment times, and all that I can muster is, “how are you?”
 
I also thought that maybe she’s just experimenting.  I mean, she did have an ex-boyfriend.  After all, she’s still young.  Who’s to say that this may just be a phase she’s going through, right?  In any case, the next step for me is to try and bring it up a notch; keyword being “try.”  I suppose being friends is a good start.  Maybe if I can get to that level, I could somehow paint a picture of her current personal life.
 
But then again, I have to get past those gorgeous eyes and killer smile.  Right.  Whoever said that that was easy enough?
 

a moment of sappiness

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I had this going on since this morning when I woke up.  So I worked on it the whole day, and finally had enough to put it down in writing.  I haven’t done this (write poetry, or otherwise) in a very, very long time so bear with me.  You may ask, “what prompted you to think of this,” or “where did you get inspiration for writing this?”  Let’s just say it’s a combination of past experiences.  As always, comments are welcome.  Okay, so here we go:
 
 
A Loving Friend
 
It’s funny how time seem to play things out,
what we had between us, there is no doubt.
A friendship, one we’ve built through the years,
tested by fire, and went through laughter and tears.
 
And yet for some reason, everything came to a halt,
making me wonder what went wrong, or if I was at fault.
Silence is now all I get from you,
tell me, are you still the same person I knew?
 
I picked you up countless times when you were down,
and you did the same for me, making me smile out of my frown.
I was always there for you when you needed a hand,
and when things got tough, you were there with me to take a stand.
 
We would go on getaways, or burn the phone lines all night long,
sit quietly together, or both terribly sing a song.
Whatever we did, we made sure it was you and me,
simply put, “I’ll be there for you, and you’ll be there for me.”
 
But somewhere, somehow, things began to change,
this friendship I felt for you, it became strange.
Then I realized, it had become deeper than that;
it put me in a dilemma, like I don’t know where I’m at.
 
With this feeling in me, I had to tell you;
after all, being a friend is being true.
You listened, then smiled at me with a different light,
quietly assuring me that everything will be alright.
 
And yet since then, everything came to a halt,
a friendship gone, and it’s my fault.
I fell in love, that much is true,
with a person I see as a friend and much more, and that is you.