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Showing posts from December, 2009

Maligayang Pasko Mga Kaibigan

Batang Banal (What Child is This?)
Inawit ni Joey Albert


Anong Hiwaga 'tong naganap
Gabing tahimik walang ulap
Sanggol sa hamak na sabsaban
Ay siyang Hari ng langit at lupa

Halina, Halina at sambahin
Taos puso nating Siyang mahalin
Halina, halina't ating dinggin
Tumatawag ang Batang Banal

At doon sa langit nag-iisa
Bituing sakdal sa ibang tala
Na tila ba'y tinatawag ka
Tignan mo ang sanggol ni Maria

Halina, Halina't ating sundin
Mahiwagang talang nagniningning
Dali, dali na't ating dalawin
Salubungin ang Batang Banal

Pastol, Angel at Tatlong Hari
Sumasamba, Bumabati
Ngayon mundo'y may pag-asa na
Ligtas na sa pagdadalamhati

Siya ang ating hinihintay
Pangako ng langit ngayo'y binigay
Halina, halina't buksan ang puso
Papasukin ang Batang Banal



Ang tumungo sa bituin--ito lamang.
--Martin Heidegger

Naaalala ko na noong bata pa ako na para bagang mahiwagang panahon ang Pasko. Napansin ko kasi na tila maligaya ang karamihan ng taong nakikita ko: galante sa mga…

Anti-Emo

You must have stood at the edge of suicide
in order to know what it means to live.
2007


I have asked quite a number of friends about what emomeans. I am afraid I still haven't been able to understand what it essentially is aside from its caricatures (dark eyeliners, Gothic fashion, hair hiding one eye, and the "Nobody understands me" or "The world owes me" vibe. --(Did I get that right?)).


I find the emoconcept interesting not only because I want to learn what goes on in an emo's mind (always gathering material) but also because I worry if people perceive me as one.


The fear that I could be one simply arises out of my commonsensical perception of the name itself, that to be emomeans to be (too?) emotional. (When you do not know something, you just hold on to names. For example, I can tell rather consistently what a person looks like if I catch a name.) I know, perhaps very well, that I am "emotional" in the sense that I feel more than I think when it …

Fear of Happiness

I like where I am in right now. It is foreign territory to me not because it is some place new, but because I am here at a rather unusual time, in the sense that I don't frequently get here by the end of the year. It is quite early for this. These months were marked by the blues in the past, by self-doubt and separation, by that stubborn insistence to be happy and ultimately the failure to fool myself that I am: One can only do so much.


It would be unlike me to say that "things are falling into place," and perhaps things have not really settled as some parts of me are still rolling, mostly gently, as if the resting places are in sight, and a few are still rushing down, which may not necessarily be a bad thing because the faster something falls, the faster it hits the bottom and stops. Well, that's a lot of words for something I don't like to say.


The point: maybe I am at peace--or dare I say it?--or perhaps I am happy.


Maybe, too, that is why I wrote significantly l…

In Defense of Descartes

More and more I seem to be directed again to a path I already visited once but only stayed on for a while. More and more I think I am called to do what I gently leave on the wayside, picking it up only when it is possible, ignoring it when it is impossible. But it has always been there, indeed. More and more . . ..


What does it mean to be called to do something or to be someone? How can I be certain that I am really being called?


I can, for instance, "only" think that I am being called to this vocation or to that love without there really being any call made. I could then be mistaken if I only think I hear myself being called when in reality there is no such call. But to qualify: when I say that I think I am being called, I say so with force and certainty, that is, truly; I do not only imagine it or fancy it, but I judge the call to be true and, most importantly, I make it real.--And what is made real will always supersede what was supposed to be only imagined; what is actuali…

Ennui

a Albrecht Dürer, Melancholia