phercynoya

[phercynoya]

Mundane Conversations

There's a ton of stuff swirling through my mind. Seeing people change around me. Hearing their stories and challenges. Dealing with random body aches. Having less time for errands and leisure.

All of them can be overwhelming. Yet I suppose one caveat is that other people around me also feel it.

There is comfort in commiseration.

This is me jotting them down somewhere. Anywhere but my brain. Just so I put a distance from myself and the looming thought of uncertainty. Pahinga muna tayo.

[phercynoya]

My favorite starters. I’ve always been fond of grass types. Turtwig was my very first starter in pearl! I love these guys 💚

[phercynoya]

Let's create communities united in HIV care equality. We all have to power to end HIV and the stigma. We are all love.

[phercynoya]

We’re Alone in This Together

Some spoilers for the play The Reconciliation Dinner.

The last national elections felt like it drove a divisive wedge between our intimate connections. Ties were severed. Walls were raised. Those happen as the ego tries to keep itself safe in a social environment where hostility is encouraged and monetized.

The one-act play “The Reconciliation Dinner” written by Floy Quintos revolves around these themes. The bond between two families slowly eroded as their political positions placed them in two separate sides. Dina (Stella Cañete-Mendoza) tries her best to reconnect with her best friend Susan (Frances Makil-Ignacio) and her husband Fred (Jojo Cayabyab) after a tense exchange over dinner left a sour taste in their mouths and the ensuing cold war of words and unexpressed frustrations drove them apart.

The scenario is all too familiar. Quintos pretty much covers how middle class families socialize during a period of tense political turmoil. Everyone tries to play nice to keep the peace and keep a semblance of social order.

Bert, (Randy Medel Villarama) Dina’s husband, captures the toxic masculinity enabled by the popular Rodrigo Duterte and emulated to some degree by Isko Moreno (he bears some resemblance to the latter). Akin to his strongman idols, he tends to escalate conversations and take things personally. It would be nice if more depth is given towards his reasons for voting BBM. He felt more like a caricature throughout the play. Dina is generally on the fence, just there to support her husband all the way, while acting as referee when tensions rise. Fred and Susan try to be polite (partly to continue currying favors from their wealthier friends and avoid conflict) but they do not simply back down from an argument when they hear something they don’t agree with. Each exchange always ends in a pissing contest where the goal is to feel comfort and vindication for their personal choice.

It is great to see that the underlying dependencies (besides their friendship) between Dina and Susan are made clear, making it difficult for them to simply call it quits. Susan’s business relies on keeping good relations with generous clients. Dina gets much needed emotional support from Susan that she can’t find from her husband and do not want to demand from her daughter, especially given her current struggle. They are also the godparents of each other’s child. My favorite interactions are between Dina and Susan, because the actors are fantastic at portraying old life-long friends.

The younger generation are clearly bolder and have more polarized views than their parents. Phi Palmos’ Norby owned the stage whenever he is given the spotlight. He fits the role of a youthful Kakampink quite well. Mica (Hariette Mozelle) suffers from the same fate as his father. Her character as a scheming and aggressive BBM supporter lacks nuance. This can be attributed more on the material, not the actor.

(As an aside, I personally find it distasteful whenever the queer character is playfully flirting with a married man in a work of fiction, usually for comedic and/or dramatic effect. This feels like an unintended reinforcing of dangerous stereotypes that do not really add much value to the play.)

And then there’s the wildcard Ely (Reb Atadero). He has the most hilarious lines and his chaotic ideology captures that shitposter account you follow who is neck-deep into the meme-ry of Reddit and Twitter that no one else in the room fully gets him.

I like the portrayal of social media banters and snide remarks between the first and last dinners, a quick battle of wits between people who want to express their support, and the satisfaction of feeling right about their choices. This sequence, along with each character’s monologue generally works well.

Quintos’ politics is clear throughout the play. I guess what I would have wanted is a perspective outside the middle class. I, as a middle class citizen with generally liberal views, feel like this is portraying a segment of the internet that I am already seeing online. The conversations are all too familiar, and sure this makes it easy to empathize and relate with the story and characters. But in the end, I am hearing stories that I have already heard over and over thanks to a sinisterly designed algorithm that seeks to make me happy in doomscrolling late at night.

I would also relate this concern to how BBM supporters are portrayed in this setting. There is constraint in depth if conversations are kept within a single class.

The play in itself, is an echo chamber. Or perhaps it is the point after all?

As the play winds down, I really felt bad for everyone, especially for Dina. She is stuck, like all of us. We have to deal with the emotional toll of an unforgiving system, and we are left to fend for ourselves. The short-term highs of personal victories, milestones, and won confrontations cannot mask the shittiness of our current state, and the best thing we can do is hold on to our closest forms of support.

In the end, she had to settle with what’s left.

[phercynoya]

It's been weird so far.

I've had a lot of socialization milestones for the past four years since I started dating around.

One of my personal theories is that queer folks like myself who had to "catch up" with experiencing and consummating desires bear the immaturity that adolescent heterosexual romances have in their teenage years.

Thinking someone being nice to us wants us deeply.

Craving for external validation.

Ignoring obvious red flags.

Unlearning years of self-hatred.

Trying not to transmit our pain to others.

There's a significant part of our identity that we had to postpone for a later time. And it's quite liberating to be around people who is cool with me being gay. That changed me quite a lot.

I learned to be more confident with how I look. I now try to take care of myself. I don't police my behavior as much. People who don't like me because I'm gay is not a "me problem" but a homophobic mindset that shouldn't make me less worthy of respect. Of course, the immature behaviors I mentioned are still here, and I'd like to believe I am managing them better compared to around five years ago.

It just sucks that the past few years made it difficult for me to establish more connections. Getting to know people over virtual interfaces doesn't hold as much weight.

It felt like the postponement period got extended indefinitely.

It's amusing to chart the Venn diagram of connections I made between different social media apps (Twitter, IG, FB). Most are connected via just one platform, while others follow me on all three. There's a part of them that I think I know, but the intimacy is just... not there? Or is it different?

I cannot even say that I am who I am online, because I do not and cannot broadcast every aspect of my being as virtual stimuli that are slaves to business-minded algorithms.

I suppose we make do.

This blog was created as a kneejerk response to a doomsday rumor about Twitter closing down unceremoniously, the place where I share a lot of my fleeting thoughts and personal opinions. I like hearing myself talk, and it helps telling something out loud instead of letting the mind farts bounce around my head like those DVD logos in LCD screens. Some farts hurt more than others, which is why it helps knowing that the smell goes away after a while, and that it is less harmful than what my unreliable brain tells me.

I'm not really sure how often I would write stuff here, and I'm actually surprised I even managed to write this entry. I write grant proposals (i.e. professionally beg) and monitoring reports for a living. It just seems weird that I would do something similar after clocking out for the day.

Yet here we are.

And Twitter is still alive.

I guess I can try writing something here from time to time.

'Til the next one.