kekekentyuh

[kekekentyuh]

A False Mask of Hope: The Filipino Obsession on Resiliency

SMALL TRIGGER WARNING: Some images may show depictions of damage brought by natural disasters. Please proceed with caution.

Growing up in a part of the country where I meet more destructive typhoons than dates in a year has shaped me a certain way — and I never even noticed it until now. 

My hometown, situated within a region that’s starkly at the east, just sitting right next to the Pacific, is definitely no stranger to calamity, especially when it comes to the weather. I've been on way more typhoon signals than dates in my lifetime; I practically grew up feeling the effects of some of the most destructive typhoons to my community, if not annually. I have vivid, unmistakable memories of events that played out during a typhoon, all playing somewhat of a role in my upbringing; I can tell you stories of some parts of our roof flying off, or how our glass windows almost shattered because of the strong winds, or even narrate a detailed step-by-step procedure of how my family prepares for bad weather with all of the times we’ve had to do it. Now, as a young adult, looking back, they’ve all contributed to how I grew up, like oddly-specific markers of my childhood. Living with that many typhoons shapes you, undoubtedly, and that never occurred to me until now.

As a young kid, admittedly, I didn’t think much of the three or four tropical depressions that come to visit each time, because, like any other kid, I didn’t really know better. Apart from the fact that I lived in a safe, stable home that was always likely able to withstand a strong typhoon, with relatives by his side, I’d also gotten so used to the fact that they were always going to come no matter what that expecting them was a routine, and letting them ravage through was something we would foresee at the beginning of the year. But one thing that I've always managed to take sure notice of even when with the privileged outlook I had was the way calamities like these were shown to the rest of the world. And now that I’m older, it seems to make a lot more sense.

Being indifferent to a catastrophe that affects thousands at a time is one thing for a kid, but growing up a part of a narration that’s highly unlikely and all the more unreal, and undeniably twisted? That’s a much more different experience.

It’s hard to understand when you’re young; I never got why, with the weight of receiving the inevitable damage a typhoon will bring, people are always quick to mask the bigger picture with brighter, clearer pictures of hope, and pride, and the never-to-be-left-out bayanihan. You’d figure maybe we don’t want to dishearten the victims any more than they already are disheartened, but it’s just as shallow as it is illogical. But as a college student forcing himself to get through an entire semester online with little to no means of getting work done, it seems just as clear: it’s all a facade. In reality, most don’t want anything to do with you, or the damage it all has cost you.

Getting hit by a typhoon — three, to be exactly honest; I’ve dealt with them my whole life but three in a row is another level of douchery for the year 2020 — means hearing the same words and seeing the same things all over again. Media networks would flood with clips of houses being flushed away by floods, or trees being ripped by winds, or families forcing their way through mud and neck-level water to get to safety and get another chance to live, edited and revamped with slow, inspirational music. Politicians will all take to either a government office or social media to express concerns, donate thousands of relief goods packed and plastered with their faces and names, with encouraging words useful for the next election. Victims are interviewed depending on the severity of the effect on them, called ‘resilient’, ‘lucky’, and ‘strong’, and broadcasted across the country, where people will start telling their children to start praying more and work harder. And that’s where it all usually ends: the people get the message of hope always lying beneath every crevice of the Filipino spirit, how we will always manage to get up and smile no matter how many catastrophes may come our way, and we’ll all move forward. That is, until the next typhoon, or earthquake, or dire national emergency comes, where it will all play out again.

And from the tip of my tongue, I just want to say this: it’s incredibly stupid. As someone who deals with this shit every single time my community is damaged, which I watch from within how it almost never recovers, it’s tiring to hear. I’d prefer you shut up.

An over sensationalized image of hope and resiliency has engraved a sense of false pride and unprecedented foolery in the majority of Filipinos. I prefer to call it an obsession; countless images like these flood us every time tragedy hits, and every time, a lot of us would think, Well, it’s all going to be over soon, right? It’s only temporary. We’re going to get through this. And yet, I always think to myself, it will be over soon, sure, but how are we so sure that the effects it leaves behind are not of great magnitude enough to leave an impact? How are we so sure that those affected will recover? For most of us, questions are almost out of the line, and I can’t say I blame people for having this mindset; it’s always because of the way our media likes to spread messages like these that bury the message within even deeper. We’d rather be fooled by toxic positivity than think for ourselves why sentiments like these do more harm than what we know of, and it’s getting agitating. 

For one, images of people hounding for their survival should not be a source of inspiration. They’re fighting for their lives; we should be concerned and alert, but we’re being tricked into thinking it’ll all be better.

The very same people who use hope to describe a tragic situation are either those who are easily influenced by the media they consume or those who are relatively unscathed by its effects, or at least have the capacity to move forward. They wouldn’t have to think about rebuilding their homes, or ensure their family members are alright, because they most probably are. They’re more content in creating this bubble of brightness to cover up so much of the bad things that have happened. They’d rather have people thanking the sky that they were spared, or have people look up to the victims as heroes or survivors. The whole narrative of resiliency, one that’s never used sparingly, is almost just as much an excuse as it is a message of supposed hope. If this and that can pick themselves up after a big storm, you and I can sure as hell do, and we didn’t even get hit. It’s just a matter of lakas and diskarte, like the good ol’ Filipino fighting spirit. Pick yourself up, because it’s your life on the line; don’t rely on the government. That’s it, right?

No. No, it isn’t. I hate to be the one to burst that bubble, but Filipinos have never been resilient. Take it from me — we don’t survive and move forward from a typhoon because we all can. We move forward because we don’t have a choice; I’m sure you, not even the government, would bat an eye for things that would make things easier. Families who are fighting for their lives or can barely stand up from all the damage has cost them don’t keep on going because they’re hopeful, but because they will starve to death if they stop going on. And when you say that things will eventually get better for us, kumare, you’re not only masking the damage the community has received with cheap hope, you’re also letting those who have an upper hand on it all slip away through the back door.

I am fully aware that the government is not composed of some full-force deities ready to put an end to natural disasters, if that’s the logic you want to put out there. But as the main institution that governs an entire nation, they have more than a large say on how that nation will deal with tragedy. And judging by the way they’ve decided to manage it (you know, like the President vanishing in thin air, or how they slashed the NDRRMC budget by about 4 billion in 2020, or how they’ve consistently neglected the Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Programs the past few years) it seems like they don’t want anything else to do but tell the people that they’ll be alright. It’s like a beautiful reference to another old Filipino attitude: shutting up and doing what you’re told. And by resorting to convincing people that recovery is on its way, without actually doing the proper precautions to prevent these things from happening over and over again, not only are we relieving them of the accountability of which they should be demanded, we’re also allowing them to let this happen to us again and again, for as many typhoons or natural disasters that may come. It’s a repeated slap on the face that we allow to happen every single time.

Hope, as important as it is in our lives, is not a solution, and surely it cannot be used to make us believe that it’s all up until here — we need to demand accountability.

There is no fault in looking for the ray of light in every dark situation. For one, hope is a powerful thing, and it can do so much greatness in a person who possesses so much of it. But having hope isn’t enough in some situations, and using this same bright thing to blind yourself to what’s actually happening is where we’re all supposed to draw the line. We can’t keep silencing ourselves to the notion that the government is ‘already doing enough’, because the one root of their job is to make sure that the country is meeting its needs, and make sure those needs grow as the nation grows as well. It will always be one of our rights as citizens to make sure that those on top do the right thing for those at the bottom, because one would not reach the top without the support of those at the bottom. Clearly, if one is refusing to do their due, when their due is outright service, something is wrong — and it’s not anyone else’s fault but their.  

I, as an individual, truly believe that there will always be a reason to move forward, as life naturally comes by and goes away. But being forced to move forward from being held back due to uncontrolled circumstances is far beyond for anyone, regardless of where they are in a social spectrum. That is not, in itself, resilience at all, but an imposed state of neglect outside one’s self. The problem does not lie within the strong winds of a typhoon, or within any shaking of a damaging tragedy — it lies within the fault of those who should be responsible, and can be seen beyond the mask of false smiles.

[kekekentyuh]

Tomorrow, Today

Jinyoung heard the engine die down abruptly as the old pick-up truck came to a short pause, prompting him to tear his eyes from where he was looking out the window to look at his friend by the driver's seat, said friend's hands still clenched against the steering wheel.

"Is there a reason why we're stopping?"

Jaebum just blinked, in obvious awe with his surroundings, closing his gaping mouth as he replied, "Let's hang here for a bit."

The expression in the former's face shifted almost instantly from confusion to pure disbelief. "This is the middle of nowhere."

Jaebum turned around to push the handle of the creaky pick-up truck door open. "I'm well aware."

"The car is parked in the middle of the road."

"I can see that, too."

"The lodge is still, like, a half-hour away." Jaebum stood a few inches from the car's front end, looking up at the soaring pine trees around them in what looked like genuine curiosity in his eyes; Jinyoung rolled his own, feeling his irises strike the top of his eyelids, and pushed his car door open and stepped out, figuring his friend was far-off to hear any call, judging by both his distance from the car and the way he looked at the trees, not tearing them off of them even for a second to look at him.

They’d stopped in front of a red-and-white flared sign at an intersection, four angry arrows pointing to both their left and their right, seemingly mocking them with that angry hue and insulting warning: CROSSROADS AHEAD. Jaebum had stopped the car a few inches from the white line that marked the end of the road, had stepped a few feet beside the signs to stare at the fine wisps of pine above him, through mountains and mountains of trees cascading as fas the eyes can see, his blue shirt and chocolate trousers seemingly blending in with the bright, unreal colors of everything around them. Jinyoung continued to look at him like he was crazy, like he always did, and sighed in extreme exasperation.

“This is insane. We can’t stop now, Jaebum. We’ve been traveling for a day straight just so we can catch up. I bought a shitload of snacks to stuff the backseat so we wouldn’t have to stop driving. We even scheduled our bathroom breaks so we could make it for the rehearsal dinner.” He could hear Jaebum’s steps on the pavement, like fading echoes as the distance grew. “We’re going to be late.” 

Jaebum backed up a few steps, tilting his head some more, eyeing the tips of trees, which were a luscious shade of mint green, cool to the eyes, a sight of relief for the brightness around them. Jinyoung looked at him intently with both his eyebrows raised, unable to understand why he was so distracted. “Were you even listening to me?”

Jaebum squinted his small eyes in an attempt to disregard the distance. “Woodpeckers.”

Jinyoung blinked. “What?”

“There may be woodpeckers up the tops of those trees.” His tone was hushed but factual; silent but guarded and sure. “You can see the leaves rustling.” Jinyoung immediately snapped his head to the direction he was pointing at, finding, sure enough, a subtle small rustling within the crevices of the leaves that could indicate the presence of a small, wood chipping bird, then snapped his head immediately back, mentally slapping himself for letting Jaebum distract him in the middle of an interrogation.

“We need to go,” he asserted, looking directly at his friend with the best piercing gaze he could muster. “Let’s get to the car.”

Jaebum continued to inspect the trees, dragging his feet along the deep gray pavement. “We’re not in a rush.”

“We’re wasting time.”

“The rehearsal dinner doesn’t start for another four hours.”

Jinyoung glanced at the black leather-strapped watch slung around his wrist. He hated it when he was right. “We haven’t really arrived yet.”

“The cabins are not too far from here. It’s just over the pond and across the big, green rice field, and we’re there. And besides—” Jaebum looked over at him, the first time he’s looked since he left the car, “—I’m driving.”

Jinyoung, who was still yet to learn how to drive a car, let along ignite the engine, grimaced. “I paid for the gas, asshole.”

“You won’t need gas when you’re not driving, dumbass.”

“Don’t call me that,” Jinyoung snapped back, very evidently beginning to lose his patience. “We need to go. Get in the car.”

“We still have time, Jinyoung.”

“But we’ve not yet dressed appropriately, we still need to cha—”

“I’ll get us there faster.”

“But—”

“God, Jinyoung! C’mon! Calm down!” Jinyoung bit back the complaint at the tip of his tongue, his mouth left agape as he stared at Jaebum in disbelief. “It’s fine. It’s not like we still have the rest of the country to cover at this point. It’s just a small break. We’re not in a hurry.” 

Jaebum looked back at his friend, whose nostrils were flaring at arms were crossed firmly around his torso, ears red in frustration. “And besides, it’s not like my sister’s going to mind if I show up late. And my mom really couldn’t care any less.” He sighed. “Trust me. If we get there early, we’ll be lying on the sofa beds reading dusty old books because the dingy ancient television set doesn’t work anymore. I’d rather we get there late.”

Jinyoung side-eyed him, which was the only thing he could do without bruising him, or slapping him, or inflicting any sort of damage to his face before his sister’s rehearsal dinner. His line of sight was almost cut off by the shining sun, peeking beneath the shade of the trees in a beautiful shade of color he can’t quite make out, feeling it against his skin, like it was kissing him. He’d been to Jaebum’s family’s log cabin farm way back since they were children, and it’d always been beautiful and mesmerizing, with a breathtaking view of the mountaintops by the balconies and lakes that shone like diamonds during sunny days; it was no question why Nayeon would want to get married there. 

But it never occurred to him how much more the way there had to offer.

“What exactly do we do here, then?” 

Jaebum turned to him, with an unsure look on his face as he stood there, savoring the sunlight, too. But, almost immediately, he smiled, and turned away. “I told you. We’re here to take a break.”

The guy placed a palm on the pavement, as if feeling the earth beneath it, knowing its temperature, and, in less than a split of a second, was lying down, one arm behind his head, the other resting quaintly on his stomach, eyes closed to the endless shower of sun dust in front of him.

“You’re crazy,” Jinyoung went, his eyes wider than an owl’s. “You’ve gone mad. You stopped driving at the middle of a road in an Edward Cullen-like Twilight pine tree forest just so you can lie down on the pavement?” Jaebum’s lips curved into a small, slender smile, his eyes tightly bound shut, letting out a small, hushed chuckle. “You’re insane.”

“You’re welcome to join me, you know.” Jinyoung almost laughed. “It’s only the two of us here. Edward’s probably not coming.”

“I am not lying down at the middle of a highway, Jaebum.”

Jaebum nodded. “Suit yourself. But can you scoot a little bit further? Just right by your left. You’re blocking my sunlight.”

Jinyoung felt his nostrils flare, his jaw clench, and his veins stretch, almost to a popping point. He didn’t know why he was doing this, and he didn’t understand its actual point, but the minute he realized it, he was lying down perpendicularly to his friend, both his hands resting on his chest, after grunts and groans, his cream jacket and newly-steamed khaki bottoms now scrubbing against the pavement. God, Jaebum is so stupid.

“See? Not so bad, now, isn’t it?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

For a while, none of them spoke; Jinyoung found it peaceful, like the kind of momentous peace he didn’t know he needed. The serenity spoke to him in volumes — it was just him, Jaebum, and the forest, with its scaping, singing pine trees that danced in the wind, its bright, still sunlight that caressed their cheeks, and its distant whistling summer breeze, laying him peacefully against the earth. Something like this actually felt nice — to empty one’s head of all the thoughts and worries, and just be within a moment, peaceful, serene, and settled, not letting anything pierce the glass that kept you from reeling back to reality. And with the way he knew Jaebum was getting some rest, too, after driving since dawn, he wished time could pause until they both felt like continuing the journey — but it couldn’t.

Jaebum’s voice then came at the hushed tone he’d heard before, the same hushed tone he uses when he’s thinking and wants to know something. “How’s uni?”

Jinyoung looked up at him to see his legs now crossed in the air, his eyes still squeezed shut. “What do you mean? Like how’s everything there? Or how is it going for me?”

“You know what I mean,” he replied without moving his face, keeping a still, serene stature.

Jinyoung resumed his original position, looking at the tips of the pines that poked the sky, subtle shadows reflected against his forehead. “It’s all going well, I suppose. I’m working towards raising my GPA. You know, so I can become valedictorian.”

“Sounds like a plan,” his friend mutters, the subtle pride and contentment evident in his voice. “You’re going to do great.”

“Hope so,” he replied with the exact opposite energy: unsure, and confused. “How about you? You still at that internship with the big-shot producer?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

“They didn’t mention it being a coffee-making job. I could’ve stopped by a Starbucks and asked for a job and they would’ve given me the same shit. But at least I’d get paid.” Jinyoung almost laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “But, you know, it’s tight. I’m learning a lot. This is more studio time I’ve experienced in my life. It’s bomb.”

Jinyoung smiled. “Glad it’s working out for you.”

Then the question popped in his head, even though he knew it wasn’t supposed to. It was one of those questions that took more energy to keep than to ask, and, knowing himself, he wouldn’t survive a minute without having to let it rip.

“Have you ever thought about what you’re going to do next, Jae?”

“Oh, easy. I’m going to get up, walk to the car, check the gas and turn the eng—”

“No, not that, you shit.” Jaebum snickered, a laugh Jinyoung hadn’t heard in a while, and was glad to have heard. “Like, after your internship ends. Do you know what you’re going to do?”

Jaebum was silent, and for a moment, Jinyoung thought he’d taken it too far. Jaebum wasn’t one to share his thoughts with anyone, even with him, who was his best friend for seven years, even if there was a gun pointed right at the side of his head. All of it was hot water.

But he replied with a frank “No.”

“You don’t?”

“No fucking clue.” Jinyoung fell silent as well, trying to think of the next best thing to say. “What about you?”

He hesitated for a moment, biting his lip to avoid embarrassing himself, but quickly reminded himself that he had nothing to lose with Jaebum. “I have no fucking clue, too.”

“Really? Well, that’s new.”

Jinyoung looked up at him again, curious. “It is?”

“Yeah. You’re Jinyoung. Park Jinyoung. You always have a plan. Nothing comes through without a plan, right?” Jinyoung redirected himself to look at the blue sky, unsure of what to say next. He knew he was Jinyoung — he didn’t need to be told twice — but he didn’t feel like himself anymore. Something was missing. 

“You know, when we were still in school, everyone said you’d do great things when we grew up. You’d become a doctor, or a lawyer, or all that good stuff. You always got the stars, and always got the first option in desserts because you always shone in class. All of the teachers I knew loved you.”

Loved, Jinyoung thought. The keyword here is loved.

“That was years ago, Jaebum, we’re not kids anymore.”

“Yeah, but not much has changed, right? You’re still doing well in school, consistently doing well with academics, and balancing work with your clubs and groups. You’re veering towards becoming valedictorian and being groomed for medical school because they know you’re going to be one of the best they’ll ever know.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is true, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re the most intelligent, talented, most gifted person I have ever met, and I’m always going to be proud of you for it.”

Jinyoung stays silent as Jaebum stopped, letting him flow out of his mind uninterrupted. He knew the past few weeks had been rough for him, as he struggled incessantly to keep so many aspects of his life together, and he consistently had to do it alone. This, Jinyoung figured, was the first time he was talking to anyone about it.

“Meanwhile, I was just your friend.”

Jinyoung’s face froze, his eyes blinking tensely. “What?”

“You know. Growing up, I was always just your friend. Jinyoung’s friend, the guy he hands out with. The one who looked like he could cut a snake up and tie it around your neck like a choker.”

He knew not to laugh at this remark, even though it seemed like Jaebum wanted him to laugh. “Jaebum, that’s not true.”

“It is,” he replied, with no inch of anger evident in his voice. “People always wondered why I hung out with you, or why you chose to stay with me, because so many thought you were too good for me, or you had more things to do with your time than waste it with me. You had a bright future ahead of you, and I was just some runover waiting to throw his life away.” Jinyoung couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Guess they were right.”

He snapped his head up, felt his legs graze against the rough surface as he punched his friend’s arm with all the might he could muster, said friend groaning in response. “What was that for?”

“Your breath was starting to smell like bullshit.”

Jaebum’s eyes both widened and narrowed in confusion. “What?”

“You were my friend because you were kind to me, Jaebum,” Jinyoung began, looking him dead in the eyes. “You were one of the only people who I could be friends with my whole life that didn’t want anything from me, who didn’t want to cheat off me for a test or get something from me because they knew I knew. You were one of the only people that ever entered my life that never told me what I had to do with my life, like what I wanted for myself was more of a choice than destiny because you saw me past my skills.” Jinyoung felt his lip tremble. “You were true, Jaebum, and that’s more than what I needed.”

“Jinyoung—”

“Everyone expects me to make the right move, the right decision because they say they know I’ll do great things one day, even though they clearly don’t know anything about what I want for myself. I’ve always hated anyone who said that, and hearing that from you stung way more than it could have ever gotten.”

Jaebum sat up, not breaking eye contact, and sighed. “I’m sorry—”

“I’m not perfect, Jaebum. I do well in school, but I’m not perfect. I haven’t figured out what I really want, because all my life, people have hounded me and pushed me towards paths they say will be great for me. But now that I get to decide if I really want to become something — something other than this doctor they expect me to just breeze through — I can’t, because I never truly understood what it meant to know myself.” Jinyoung’s lip trembled with every word, and Jaebum couldn’t come any closer. “That’s something you get to do that I’ll always envy. You’re brave, Jae. And you know yourself more than I could ever do myself.”

Jinyoung buried his head beneath his arms, his legs tucked towards his center as the silence befell on them once again. Jaebum stared at him intently, letting his glances dance from the light color of the white lines that decorated the center of the stretching road, to the light color of Jinyoung’s shirt, that gleamed ethereally under the sunlight. He amassed himself to speak again.

“Y’know, I’m kind of glad we’re sitting down here in the middle of the road.” Jinyoung slowly picked his head up, an exasperated, distinct type of sadness evident in his eyes, staring straight into Jaebum’s. 

“Why?” he asked, in a toned-down version of his anger from before.

“It’s kind of telling me something.” He stood up, kicking the underside of his friend’s shoe in the process, signaling him to stand up with him, but he went on before him. “I’ve never once looked at this beautiful road before, even though I’d been coming to the cabins my whole life, and it’s always because I’m too busy minding my shit, or looking forward to what’s ahead. I spend a lot of time spacing out to think about what I’m going to see when it’s not even there, and I’m really not even ready to see any of it yet.”

He looked back to see Jinyoung, hair disheveled and hand stuffed in pockets, socked feet together, staring back at him again. “You get what I mean, right?”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. “You’re too young and built to be a wise old man.” He nodded slightly in affirmation. “But I do.” 

Jaebum offered him a smile, the kind, genuine, it’s going to be okay one, and the other rolled his eyes a little bit before smiling as well, stepping forward to stand beside his friend, looking at the side opposite of where their vehicle was facing: the long, winding road they’d already taken, the bumps and cracks they’d passed and survived, all the signs they’d seen and ignored and ones they’d seen and thought about ignoring, but didn’t. It was a lot.

“If there’s one thing we both need to hear,” Jinyoung said, brushing himself and Jaebum off from the sidewalk gravel on their backs, “it’s that we’re right where we need to be, always.” Jaebum smiled and nodded. “We’ll cross the bridge when we get there. And we’ll get there soon.”

“Yeah, we will.”

[kekekentyuh]

[kekekentyuh]

Gen Z Vs The World

I’ve spent the past several years savoring life as a teenager of the modern era, having recently accepted the formidable reality that I have to let it go and start acting like a grown-up, and those years, I could say, gave me a lot of confusing feelings when it comes to the experience. A lot.

Being a part of the youth in this day and age meant a lot of things: stressing over school, running around, falling in love, finding yourself in a world full of people — you know, the usual. But the way we do things in the twenty-first century doesn’t necessarily sit well with a lot of people, especially older adults, who find most of the thoughts and attitudes defining our generation to be a little bit overbearing, and I already mean that in the nicest way possible.

The young adults of today have long been established as their own type of demographic; they’re not precisely full-blown adults, nor are they little kids, but the sweet center of those two, the perfect time to usher in a lot of learning from day to day life, for the mind to slowly mature and evolve into adulthood. Those falling under the Generation Z marker have further revamped the picture as a leaner, seemingly more improved version of the youth: determined, headstrong, aware of a certain voice and quality that they possess at the prime of their age and time, the perfect meaning of what it means to be young in this modern age. But this strong-willed, no-reservations type of attitude has been the subject of ridicule, commonly sourced from older generations, who, through the years, have seemingly sort of had this agitated vendetta towards the youth. It’s always the emotional, insanely agitated teenager, the one who knows too much but doesn’t make sense, the one who cares too much and is concerned too often, the one who’ll eventually outgrow every bit of this phase of an attitude and eventually ‘mature’. We're old enough to be expected to act in a certain acceptable manner, groomed to fit certain expectations, but young enough to always be brushed off to the sides when the subject of possible change is brought up, shut out and dismissed in order to, as they say, just keep the peace. It's always up to the older ones to decide what's going to happen — even though most of them refuse to learn from the current state our world is in — and all we have to do is sit it out and keep our mouths shut, because, with our lives being purely defined by how much media we consume, we seemingly don’t know what’s happening in the ‘real world’. Therefore, we don’t really know anything; just a bunch of angry, stubborn kids.

And I think that's clearly fucked up.

But, for the most part, I will choose to give a lot of the people who refuse to acknowledge the youth's mindset the benefit of the doubt. We all have grown in different situations, exposed to different people and experiences that have determined where we are now in terms of our beliefs and principles. But for all of you to see and visualize how painstakingly hard it is to be a part of the youth in this era, let me Picasso you a portrait — allow me to guide you in picturing what it’s really like to be part of the Gen Z, apart from the trends, and the sarcasm, and the TikToks (I had to, sorry.)

First things first: being a part of the younger generations means your life is at the forefront of what society is about — and that includes everything that’s right and wrong about it, and how it’s evolving through time.

Much of the current generation of youth was born within a stark transition in technological advancement, the likes of which most born before it happened have never seen before. The digital age, as most people call it, has created a world where technology and convenience are an integral part of living in the present, where everything is so much more possible and anything is almost within your reach. Modern technology has dominated our lives to the point that we’re increasingly dependent on it, and naturally, you’d be able to expect, today’s youth would ultimately rely on it to carry on with their lives. Much of what defines Gen Z culture is built upon technological advancements making them possible, especially the likes of social media, which is a powerful tool that connects us with so many things happening around the world. Social media has given us a new avenue to explore and express ourselves, venturing into new ideas and proportions previously unmoved. This is why we’re seemingly everywhere; as the pawns in society’s chessboard, ready to make our moves, social media builds a huge portion of our lives, because it allows us to find ourselves through what we see. Being Gen Z may be looking through trends and trying them out for the hell of it, but it’s also about using the resources we have at our disposal to form our own persona, to find out what we really are amidst everything. With everyone living in a world that connects them through something bigger, it’s more efficient to stand out as your own individual than become part of a group — and social media is able to help us create a world where we can be ourselves. For people who grew up without this technology, it would seem weird, especially perceiving how utterly dependent we are on it, and it’s definitely understandable; previous generations were able to discover integral parts of themselves without advanced technology by their side, so they clearly have not much use for it now that they are older. But for youngsters like me, it’s how we grow and learn. Advancements are meant to create new ways of achieving new heights, and while we are very much dependent on it to a certain point, much (well, most) of this generation are well aware of the things it took to get here. But as figments of the past, they matter less than what is in the present, and, eventually, in the future.

The one thing about social media, however, that makes it such a big part of the culture today is how it lets us see what is happening around the world from where we are standing. The world is currently moving at such a great speed; The age of technology ushered in an age of rapid development, where new things and ideas come and go at the speed of light, and change happens constantly. As those sitting at the forefront of this modern age, we’re always some of the first to know about something that’s happening, some of the most adversely affected, not only because our whole lives are built upon it, and it gives us a big view of what is really happening, but also because we choose to self-educate. In a way, it is genuinely quite stressful — the rapid pace of life can wear out a lot in us, and that's why, for the most part, a lot of us are easily emotional. But being a part of an age where anything can eventually happen has trained us to create ways to progress. This is why a lot of young people today know better than you think — having social media at our disposal allows us to be informed, aware, and alert. And this, in hindsight, is also why the youth is keener on having emotions like sadness and anger, which spurs so many negative perceptions about what our mindsets really contain. The world’s constantly changing nature and the endlessly horrifying things it throws at us through our screens come with consequences, which stresses us out, leaving us with nothing to do but express and react. And this is not only because we are growing up in the midst of an evolving society, but also because, as members of the current pool of youth, the ones that will one day make up the world, we are left to face the repercussions of the horrible things done by institutionalized history: thousands of years of maltreatment and abuse, clawing for supremacy and power, destroying those incapable of fighting back in the process. That simply won’t do.

Being a part of the younger generation also means bracing for change and progressing to the future — and that means leaving behind the pains of the past.

One of the major defining characteristics we have over previous generations is how we manage to stay angry for so long, how we're always quick to point out flaws and pass judgment about things that, seemingly, we don't understand, because we think so highly of ourselves despite knowing so little. And for one, most of those who say this are right; we are angry. But we're not angry because we choose to be angry, or we like being angry just to get something out of it. We're angry for a plethora of different reasons. wMaybe we’re angry because we’re not going to take any of the bullshit anymore. Maybe we’re angry because we’re tired of seeing systemic suffering because of simple things like skin color and sexuality. Maybe we’re angry because we can’t stand those in power taking and taking so they can elevate themselves up, and leave most helpless behind. Maybe we’re angry because we’ve been given a future that needs even more time to repair, but most still refuse to walk the way to achieving it. And maybe, for one, we're quick to see mistakes because we do know too much. Maybe we do know too much, but that's not entirely our fault, because we choose to educate ourselves in matters of importance with the access to media that we own, because we can, and we will. Maybe we do think highly of ourselves, and that's because for so long, the youth has been dismissed as mere juveniles endlessly screaming with no point, but we actually may play a great role in ushering in change, because we represent the future, as the new generation, and being thrust in the new world with technology we can easily master gives us just more of an advantage.

And, yes, maybe we are too unreasonable, too quick to judge, or too loud in pointing out systemic flaws. But that's because we now understand the effects of these flaws — and how it may or may not be felt by everyone within it. Maybe we are idealistic, because the so-called realism previous generations have shown has only resulted in a worsening societal state and seriously concerning complicity. This 'I can't change people that easily' kind of attitude that compels previous generations to follow an ideology that tells one to just 'shut up and stay quiet' is the same one that has let corruption and capitalism exploit so many. Our idealism, a little bit of a spark that's willing to ignite change, brings the anger out just a little bit more. This anger is the same anger that drives us to act upon this change, because it’ll come.

We're done with regressive ideals that only fuel the increasingly toxic nature of society; it's been done, and nothing good for all of us came out of it. Now, we must progress. Collectively, we think it’s time for things to turn around, because it’s time we turn away and face the new day, and everything from then on will only happen when we take that first step. And once we do, you know what to do next: we shout, we scream, and we fight.

Being Gen Z means knowing how to fight for what is right, despite what the people who hesitate upon the sight of change say to us.

As a generation born in a time where society calls for the reversal of years and years of fallacies that resulted in so much turmoil, calling for change has been an integral part of our world. But even if we were born in a world that needs improving, with us being at the first wave of those who will propagate it, it is important to keep in mind that it all does not depend on us. Change comes with the people who welcome it, and although we are very much willing to, the change we yearn for must be for the greater common good of everyone. It is not entirely our job to make the changes, but a huge part of what we can do is to ignite the same flame of passion in others to embrace the change that we so direly need.

The teenager today now has a louder voice than they could ever possibly have imagined, making them and all of us a force to be reckoned with. We may be strong, but we have a long, long way to go — and we sure as hell will get there eventually. For the meantime, as part of the new generation that will bring hope, change, and at least a possible sight of a better world, we need to keep educating ourselves and know what we have to know. We’ll keep on doing better, and learning from the days that pass, because we’re more than just Twitter and TikTok — we’re coming in with a new day, right?

Thank you so much for reading! It means a lot to me that you're reading. If you're new here, or simply want to talk to me, reach me through the Inquiries page, or through my social media here! Cheers for my first Loaded Diapers post! And I sincerely hope everyone is taking care of themselves. Thanks for hanging out with me, and I'll see you on the next one!

[kekekentyuh]

Sana sa bawat umagang inaaya mo akong mag-kape ay inaanyayahan mo rin ang sarili mong tanggapin ang tamis at pait sa tuwing ika'y nanlalamig.

[kekekentyuh]

Wrapping Up

For some unknown reason, I didn’t think of writing a year-end post until a certain someone put the idea in my empty head (this just proves how much of an airhead I really am, so this person is really doing the Lord’s work) and it’s mostly because writing a year-end post wasn’t something I initially thought of as content, but I choose to blame it solely on the feelings of uneasiness I get when I try to look back at this year, thinking of all the horrible things that happened and missed opportunities, and constant disappointments that shriveled up right in front of us. It makes me utterly sad to think of what could have been had the world strayed away from falling into ruin, but I believe that in order to move forward and continue, you must be able to look back, remember, and let go. The past year, I figured, is a year that won’t easily be drowned away by time, and I figured describing what it felt like when it all started can help me (and you, of course) process it better so we can all leave it all behind. 

So here I am, taking it slow again, sitting down to talk about the obvious monstrosity that was the year 2020. Consider this sort of an overly-dramatic version of a year-end recap, which includes a plethora of things that happened — or didn’t happen — to me this year.

Just a little care warning: this is a long, draggy and dramatic one, just to reflect the state of how everything has been with this year, so if you don’t gravitate towards anything of that sort, this may not be the post for you.

2020 was nothing but a horrible shitshow — fate really did some of its best work on this year. It was literally the worst hot mess trainwreck of a year nobody really wanted, not that any of us didn’t expect anything bad to happen, but because it blew way, way out of proportion. We're talking explosions of social restlessness fighting back in the midst of a collapsing world, singed by natural catastrophes plaguing countries left and right, all of which are too horrendous to even recount. And with the millions of deaths occurring direly at the speed of light, whether it be because of the global health emergency we’ve been dealing with the past nine months or the societal dilemmas that managed to pull through for centuries, it only gets worse with time. The past year, for many of us, revolved around being in lockdown, sitting back within the confines of our homes as tragedy after tragedy strikes.

This year, to me personally, felt more like a decade that was dragging its feet on the ground. You naturally expect time to fly fast when your mind is loaded with so much shit, and you’d expect it to zoom out when your life the past few months was defined mostly by how three typhoons in a span of two weeks would just dance their way through where you were (I’ll tell you guys more about this later) but somehow, 2020 felt like such a long year — and nothing came of it that was of any good. And, looking forward, the New Year just passed like the last few seconds of it was a bend in the curve, and honestly, I don’t blame myself (or anyone else) for feeling that way, if some did. So many unimaginable things have happened in 2020 that people expect nothing more out of this year, because it’s been too much for everyone, physically, mentally and emotionally.

The world is drained, and so are its people, but time doesn’t give recovery breaks. Moving forward isn’t an option, even in our current situations — it’s an obligation.

As said repeatedly from my previous posts, I’ve been in lockdown since March here at home, from the very moment life took a turn for the worse (yet somehow I haven’t been posting frequently, and that’s because I’m so bad at multitasking, so sorry; that’s a resolution for me this year and I’ll work on it), and my time in what I consider as solitary confinement has resulted in more evils than good. Sure, I’m safe, away from where most of the danger is, and the fact that I’m home here with my family spares me the anxiety of how they are doing and what has become of them, because I see them everyday. I’ve been eating well again since college began (evidently from the obvious weight gain I’ve had) and I’ve been spending less and less on the necessities I usually require when I’m in Manila. But to me, being quarantined means being deprived of a life I have laid out for myself, turning away from the experiences I signed myself up for, and staying away from the people I care about deeply, like relatives away from home and friends I can only call so many times. Being confined to a certain space does a great deal on your loneliness, which is the only thing I’ve been feeling the past few months. The constant anxiety of being susceptible to a virus possibly lurking everywhere doesn’t help either, and governing institutions who obviously still have no idea what they’re doing nine months later are not making it any better for my emotions. Wrap it up with the hellish nightmare that is remote learning — which, I might add, has not done anyone good, except maybe the old hags who control the education system and are having fun torturing people judging by the way they assess mental health issues — and you’ve got yourself a bullshit burrito, and there’s no one else around you to help you deal with it. The people you’ve been spending your lockdown with, which, in my case, are my family members, can only do so much, and if you’re anything like me, you get used to it quite easily. And it all just goes downhill from there. 

But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t result in some good. Spending a lot of time on your own in a home that allows you to do your own business has given me a lot of time to reassess and revamp the way I look at things. Quarantine has given me the time and chance to contemplate and grow, to map out the things that I really want to do and think of the things that I need to do in order to achieve them, the most important of these things being learning to give importance to myself above other things. I’ve always been more of a giver than a receiver, but recently I’ve taken it to an extent where I care necessarily more about the people around me more than I did with myself, busying myself with things that will surely mean something in the future, but not really meaningful to my own personal growth. I figured, if I wanted to grow into a person, even though I wasn’t leaving home yet like I promised myself I would, I would put myself first, and listen to myself, and let myself give myself a chance to outgrow the things I needed to outgrow and do the things I needed to do to improve. That, I felt, was the secret: to let go and pick up pace, to let go and grow.

And I started with a lot of small things this year on my path to self-care: I’ve been living my college life the way I felt I should, even if it is only online. I’ve been giving myself extra nuggets to work on my academics more to achieve a certain grade goal, and even started participating in organizations to get to know my community more, to do work I vigorously value and to be more social and make more memories. I’ve been learning to take my workloads with grace, less on the complaining and more on the doing (unless it’s really unreasonable, to which I then begin to aggressively tweet) and started giving myself more leeway to do it at a pace I can do properly, which involves listening to myself and being kinder to myself every time I fall short, which I’m still currently working on. I’ve also started reliving hobbies I’ve always wanted to do properly but never had the time to do so, like writing and dancing, and revitalized them by sharing what I can do with the world, one being through this blog, where I post my mediocre but genuine work and the other by sharing some horrible covers online that I am proud of. I’ve figured that my hesitation to share my abilities has always been because I was afraid none of them would be good, but now, looking at myself, it doesn’t really matter whether or not they’re good, because that was me out there, and that made me infinitely happy. Putting myself to work on things that I want to achieve and seeing myself grow and come closer towards those things has been better for me, and it’s made me feel not only a sense of accomplishment, but a sense of pride in myself — something I’ve never thought I’d be able to feel about myself ever in my life.  

I’ve also had a lot of time to think about the career path I want to take, and the person I want to become — and have consequently started thinking about how to become him.

Being stuck in the middle of a global health crisis has also made me realize that me being washed up in the shores of a health science-oriented university wasn’t a haphazard decision fate has tossed at me. It was, rather, the right one; I’ve been contemplating a lot about what kind of life I want to set up for myself, what kind of path I really want to take with the the journey I’m already taking. And all that thinking has made me realize the fact that I maybe am cut out for a career in the health sciences. I used to despise the idea of myself becoming a doctor, or even a health worker, because I previously thought that committing myself to such a career would require me to give up a lot of the time and energy I need to do the things I actually want to do. My heart, in the beginning, was not set out to become a doctor, and I didn’t think I had the skill enough to do it, and the courage and strength it takes to sustain the job. That wasn’t me, I thought. But then, I figured, being helpless and confined in a time where people are in most need of help is harder to me than I thought it was, because that also wasn’t me. I couldn’t sit around and wait for a solution, because if no one else wants to do it, I’m willing to give my all for it. That is me — and I can’t turn my back on people in need.

One thing I’ve learned is that I’m alive to serve a purpose, and that’s to care for people who cannot help themselves, to provide service and welfare to those who need it, and that’s exactly what I wish to be. And with this, I’ve also learned, is that there is no limit on who I wish to become. My whole being is not defined solely by whether or not I wish to become oriented with the health sciences or my passions alone, because all these make up who I am, and nothing will stop me from doing the things I love, by pursuing things that will get me far and make me happy.

Another important thing I’ve learned during the pandemic is that, in all aspects of everyday life, there will always be a reason to be thankful and hopeful, always a way to look at the bright side of a dark situation, but this is not the answer to everything. Turning to see things positively, in a lot of situations today, are smitten with a hint of privilege, because not everyone lives in the same conditions as the next person does. Positivity simply cannot be used to ignore the blatant problem that’s causing things to go berserk, and hope cannot be used as a solution — emergencies like this cannot be solved by messages of a brighter future and the perfect image of a stable life, because only those who have a life keeping them together can hope for a better tomorrow. Those who cannot get up, those who were left behind, those who were disregarded as mere statistics in today’s times cannot afford to hope, because they don’t have much left — and they have no choice but to face it head-on, asking for action instead of false hope. It is not our job to give them hope, because they will always have hope within themselves if they need it; it is our duty, as their fellow countrymen, to talk, speak up, amplify their cries, and demand action, because the change that will bring them up from where they are drowning will not come if one chooses to stay hidden. This change will happen only if one chooses to stand up from the sidelines, because true change lies in the power of the people’s hands. Not an administration who values the elite, not a society that chooses to ignore images beyond the margins. It all begins with us, and with what we choose to do with our voice.

Keeping tabs with what was happening outside my doorstep has broken my heart so many times, yet I still do it, because I deserve to know what is going on in my country. And one of the most obvious things I’ve noticed in all that time is how, compared to any other time, blatantly rampant the classism is here in the Philippines, how time seems to only highlight yet increase the discrepancy of rich and poor, privileged and marginalized, powerful and weak. Social media alone exposes one to so many of these shallow people, how they choose to stay in a bubble of privilege, living lavish, discontented lives, while the poor continuously suffer, crying out non-stop before being silenced, if not permanently. And yet what bothers me more is how people will go the extra mile to idolize these same people, to defend their acts of crime, and to further praise them for being in positions of power, just for a quick buck. I personally don’t know what’s on their minds, or what’s going on in their lives that drove them to be blind to reason, but somehow, it still manages to disappoint me. This lockdown, for many, was a chance to self-educate, to learn what is happening outside — really happening outside — because even if we were confined indoors, real life still exists outside the walls, and as a part of a living, breathing society, it is our job to live and progress. It doesn’t take much to see clearly, too; the current administration is actually letting their work speak for them, and if nine months of lockdown with no proper health management plans and billions of pesos in debt mean nothing to you, then I guess it’s good riddance. Read a book.

2020 was undoubtedly awful and unlawfully horrible, but the sheer ugly nature of what happened this year was not a manifestation of bad luck, like most people believe to say it is. It is, I believe, a magnified, exaggerated version of everyday life, a negative repercussion of all the years of corporate neglect and heightened corruption. These issues have lived for so long, as long as man has been alive even, and yet, with our own two eyes, we all fail to see them or have no guts to recognize them. It took a pandemic for people to realize what was wrong with the world, and if that’s not saying something about the nature of man, I don’t know what does. 2020, as hot as a trainwreck it was, was a call for action, for change, for a better tomorrow. The world we live in is only being capable of holding so much. Time doesn’t give recovery breaks — and if change is not welcomed, it’s only a matter of time before things really just blow way out of proportions.

So let's hope 2021 is a tad bit nicer.

Thank you so much for reading! It means a lot to me that you're here. If you're new here, or simply want to talk to me, reach me through the Inquiries page, or through my social media here! I'm wishing everyone here a happy new year, and hope, love and prosperity this coming year. I hope everyone is taking care of themselves by sanitizing and garnering a healthy lifestyle! Thanks for hanging out with me, and I'll see you on the next one!

[kekekentyuh]

Happy Birthday to the best soundtrack for the craziest year, Fine Line from the genius mind of Harry Styles.

[kekekentyuh]

Isolation

Has it ever occurred to you that maybe happiness isn’t for everyone — that some of our lives were not meant to play out well, that those of us were nothing but born to be alone 

[kekekentyuh]

We can all be changed by SOMEONE forever. TO feel something you've never felt before.

[kekekentyuh]

Marya Hornbacher, Waiting

[kekekentyuh]

holla everyone

so i haven't been able to post for a couple of inexcusable reasons, them being excessively draining remote learning (planning on writing about this as a follow-up to the one i wrote last september before the academic year began) and lack of proper internet connection (since we were stark in the middle of three strong typhoons last month, the second one vehemently damaging our internet line, and our provider yet to fix it because they're dicks and only care about money) so, i sincerely apologize

i've recently gotten a reasonably lighter schedule, with deadlines not until january or the end of december, so i got some time to write, and i opted to continue some of the cobwebbed posts in my drafts, so please watch out for them soon! i've recently been taking to writing drabbles about music and songs — the first one being illicit affairs, which is my favorite song in taylor swift's folklore — so you can expect more of the same type of work since i really wanna get my creative juices flowing!

that's all for now! thank you for supporting my work (if you're here; if you're not, still just as thankful) here's a picture of our recently adopted kitty she's an angel ily her

[kekekentyuh]

Illicit Affairs

This wasn't going anywhere according to plan.

The plan was simple — seek them out, meet them at dusk, feel the warmth of their body pressed up against yours, take what you need, and be done with it. Disappear, leaving no trace, like you were never there. It was simple; without any special coordination, it could work like clockwork. You knew, because this wasn't the first time you've done the plan — even with them.

And that seemed to puncture your mind as you lay awake as minutes loom by, feeling the tender press of the darkness around you as you faced them without any other thing mattering in hindsight, tracing what could be seen with the tips of your fingers and feeling the soft, steady breathing against you, the puffs of slumber making you tingle.

You let your eyes soar at the vast mass sprawled beside you, your lips in hushed bliss, your eyes almost in utter disbelief at how someone could be so peaceful, so serene, unperplexed at how there was another living being beside them, the spot in the bed secured just by fixated gazes and yearning smiles. You barely knew them, and they barely knew you, not even long enough for one to think you may have been colleagues at some point, but the clandestine meetings,  planned coincidences, the glances and longing stares you’ve shared every single moment you feel the ground quake with their footsteps — they all seemed more real and unmatched with any other feeling in the world, you were sure of it.

And you weren’t even sure of anything in the life you’ve led so far.

“Hi,” you heard beside you, finding astounding hazel eyes as you turn again, making you swallow back a gasp.

“Hi,” you replied as they inched closer, the air feeling warmer as the hazel splash grew bigger and closer as the sun grew brighter in a sort of two-toned yellow, slowly illuminating the room.

“You look like garbage,” you pointed out.

“Where I'm from, we tell each other good morning before handing out compliments,” they said, making you smile. “You don’t look so good yourself.”

“What an appropriate thing to say.”

“What are you doing awake at this hour?” they asked in between half a chuckle, you clearly hearing the heavy drowsiness in their voice. “The sun isn’t even up yet. You’re not supposed to be up before the sun.”

“You know,” you said, beginning to look them up and down, bringing your fingertips between the waves of their hair, “just thinking, I guess.”

They look up at your own dark, menacing eyes, eyebrow raised, feigning confusion. “Trying to take the sun’s place early in the morning just to think?”

“Is that not allowed in this house?”

“Not in the slightest. I don’t encourage it.” You almost laughed. “What’s there to think about at five in the morning, anyway?”

Heavy alibis were getting harder to come by. “You know. Things.” 

“Things? Oh, I get it, you’re one of those exercise-the-brain-in-the-morning people,” they said as their lips found their way to your neck, pushing down in soft, lingering spots, leaving pools of warmth and comfort as you froze. “Alternative lifestyle, I can live with that.”

 You let the first chuckle escape you as you felt them move upward to place their face right at the free lot beside your left ear as you placed your hand at the small of their back. “I just have a lot on my mind, is all.”

“Do you normally do?”

You look at them. “Normally do what?”

“Have a lot on your mind.”

You shook your head slightly. “No.”

“Want to tell me about them?” 

You look at their eyes again, this time with a question in your dark ones, surprised to see sincerity and assurance in his, starkly contrasting their witty remarks from before.

“I don’t know, would you want to listen?”

Their pinky curled in yours, arm brushing against the upper part of your stomach, cold-tipped feet against one another, they replied, “I’ll listen to anything you throw at me.”

You felt yourself hold back, not sure how to phrase the racing words in your mind. You knew what to say — how all of this was amazing, unmatched, greater than any feeling you’ve ever known in your life. You’ve felt nothing like any of this before, and it was different and exhilarating: fast, passionate, raw, and it didn’t surprise you at all, because somehow, in any way, and at any time, you knew you could always tell yourself that you could stop, you could end it, then and there, and you’d walk away, having lost nothing.

But, at the very core of your being, you were still afraid, and you could still that tiny mesh of fear holding you back, like a net, waiting to capture the butterflies you hold in your stomach.

“Well, it’s really not that important. I-I just want to know something,” you began as they stared intently, their lips pursed in an attempt to usher in silence to clearly take in your words.

Any of this — basking in the lack of light, feeling a body's warmth beside you with barely any distance apart and barely a blink of sleep, making you feel like you've known them forever — was not part of the plan. And anything that wasn’t part of the plan, you kept telling yourself over and over, was something you should not be wasting your time on.

“What is this?” Your question seemed to linger, longer than their kisses, warmer than your touch, brighter than the sunlight enveloping the both of you. “I know it’s weird that I’m just now asking this, and having to bring in something deep at the crack of dawn, but I really just don’t understand what this is, and I just got to thinking.” They knew what you were referring to, by the look on their face, but you knew you had to continue. “I don’t know what this feeling is at all. It's so—different.”

It was confusing, and different, and complex. But strangely, without any question as to why, it was something you had grown accustomed to, unsurprisingly, after days, and weeks, and months. It was growing — no, blossoming, to put it nicely — on you, like vines and ruby roses, and you didn’t mind, no.

But it had to be secret. Quiet, intimate, shut out from the windows of the world. No one could know. All the loving and the passionate adrenaline had to be silent and shifted out. Illicit. You didn’t understand why, and you were pretty sure they didn’t, too. But somehow, you knew why: this wasn’t a love that heaven would shine a light down on, or a love that could be echoed at the top of the highest peaks. It was a love, on the contrary, that thrived in the dark, in the depths no one dares look under, by the roads only the uncertain travel by. It seemed larger than any other love you knew, and it scared you even more, thinking how something undefined and unmeasurable, how something born from just one single glance, was going to last, or live on.

The silence in their part almost felt like a cue for you to shy away. “This is silly. Just forget I said anything—”  

“I don’t know, too.” It caught you off-guard; not that you were expecting a more concrete response. “But I know I do feel something.”

You look them straight in the eye, their face propped up by an elbow pushing down the bed, gazing as you began staring deeply. 

“I’m just as confused as you are, to be honest,” they added, tracing the outline of your thigh as it began to peek through the white sheets, never breaking the connection through your eyes, “because we’ve been seeing each other for quite some time now, doing things and being things, and through all of it, I didn’t know what to call what we have.”

You felt the irregular pattern of your heartbeat soar to your eardrums, almost enough to render you way out of breath.

“All that time, I didn’t know what to call the kisses in a McDonald’s parking lot, or the hair-playing on the couch after dinner, or the showers together, or the underwear stealing—"

“Stop making it weird,” you interject, pushing their face away as your bright red face flushed with embarrassed laughter, half-annoyed that the mood was broken.

“It’s not weird,” they reply, resuming their position in front of you after laughing, then placing their chin by the shank of your chest, “It’s definitely...something.” They smirked, you feeling the edge of the smile on your skin. “You’re right, it is hard to name.”

You stare into their hazel eyes again, stifling back an awed smile at how they shimmer gold behind the rising rays of the sun to your right, the white sheets enveloping the both of you turning into a pale yellow tinge.

“So what do we call it, then?” you ask, half-genuinely curious, half-distracted with genuine beauty.

They paused for a moment, thinking intently as they stared into your eyes, getting lost in the way your fingers crumpled strands of their messy hair, before saying, “Well, I don’t think we have to call it anything.”

You smiled. It was perfect.

“I don’t think it has to have a name, or a label, or anything. I think that’s so superficial.” They got up to lay their head on the spot on the pillow next to you, for a good view of your face without breaking their neck. “We both know it’s there. You feel it. I feel it. And we both acknowledge its existence.” They smiled. “I think that’s already beautiful as it is.”

You nodded slightly. “It’s perfect.”

They run a thumb across the ray of light cutting across your left eye, feeling the warmth against his skin both from your skin and the soothing sun. “Sun’s up.”

You turn around, looking over your shoulder to see the horizon glowing a majestic bright orange, shadows of buildings and billboards lost behind the magnificence. You felt the same, relaxed breath on your cheek, followed by a the warm caress of a sweet, tender kiss, inching its way up to where your lips were, like they were meant to be there, like they found their way to where they’re never meant to leave ever again.

And for a moment, you wished everything could stay that way for as long as it could.

“I have to go,” you say, slowly breaking and inching away from them, even though your heart and body weren’t agreeing with what you were saying. “I have laundry that needs taking care of.”

“But I need taking care of, too,” they reply as you wave the sheets away, reaching down to pull your pants up.

“See, what we’re not going to do,” you began, continuing as your shirt made its way down, “is not act like a kid and make everything cheesier than it actually is. You’re not ten.”

“And you’re not actually going to do laundry.” You almost gagged at how they were sulking, but it wasn’t like it was the first time you left early in the morning  — traffic is not necessarily forgiving on Monday mornings.

“I have work to do,” the watch came on while your feet squeezed into the shoes, your actions memorized but unmotivated. “And you should get more sleep.” You kissed their forehead, swiping away the strands of unmanaged hair away from their hazel eyes. “Give me a text when you wake up and I’ll call you right away.”

You reach for your bag, a worn, tugged piece of brown corduroy, and reached inside to place a small, navy blue bottle on the bedside dresser. “Don’t forget the perfume.”

They almost rolled their eyes. “I still don’t understand why you hate leaving your scent. It’s not like you’ve stolen anything or whatever —”

“Just do me the solid and get on with it. I just don’t like it. Consider it an air freshener.” 

They look at you like you were crazy. “This may be a good time to tell me if you’re a werewolf.”

You laughed, and they swore it was the best sound they’ve ever heard. “I could be.” You leaned in to kiss them. “I’ll be on my way. Roommate’s probably going to wake up in half an hour.”

“You still haven’t told them where you go? How do you excuse arriving at early hours in the morning.”

“I tell them I run.” You blew a kiss form the door, to which you brisk-walked like a duck, your coat around your forearm and your had covering half your face. “See you later.”

They sit back on the bed, laughing at the fact that you tell your roommate that you jog in jeans and a corduroy coat. Genius.

[kekekentyuh]

I saw tweets and posts saying Yes to Death Penalty. I know na we are all enraged by what happened pero Death Penalty is not the answer. The implementation of the Death Penalty would just further target the poor and marginalized kasi we have a very faulty justice system. Ang daming nagtatanim ng ebidensya at kapag mahirap ka, ang dali lang para sa kanila na tapaktapakan ang karapatan mo. Our justice system is too one-sided, it only favors those in power and those who have money to spare.

[kekekentyuh]

Reasons why I like tumblr

1. None of my family is on here

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“I do not know who I am, where I am going - and I am the one who has to decide the answers to these hideous questions.”

— Sylvia Plath (via thoughtkick)

[kekekentyuh]

Ariana Grande — Positions (2020)

[kekekentyuh]

Ariana grande photoshoot for #Positions