FOR A moment before the New Year, I suddenly felt old.
Just tired and weary from all the loving I’ve given.
To various unattainable men.
To my sometimes toxic family.
And in general, to the Filipino people that I love with a passion because I don’t have children to call my own.
***
These are the people who probably didn’t need my love.
Didn’t want it.
Maybe didn’t even know about it.
And so, all my loving is really an effort.
And it gets tiring, exhausting, debilitating.
***
For a lot of people, the only language of love that they can understand is money.
It’s not about me saying I love you to them.
It’s not me doing things for them.
It’s not even me giving them beautiful things and brilliant ideas.
All they want is cash, cash, cash.
***
In 2022, people may again be blind to other forms of love.
Like prayers for good health.
Like well wishes for opportunities.
Like service leadership—genuine service, and genuine leadership.
And it can happen that people will be momentarily blinded by the sound of money, by the shine of cash.
***
The great tragedy is that this would happen on that momentous day in May.
When people need to transcend their poverty (and their poor-mindedness) to embrace some form of empowerment.
Some sense of power to change the face of Philippine politics for a Good Leadership that promises a future for their children and long-suffering compatriots.
***
When there is chaos and noise, it is easy to get lost.
It is easy to be misled.
To be cheated, and be robbed, of that one opportunity to show real power.
It is easy to be hoodwinked by promises.
It is easy to go with the flow, and be carried away by the loudest voices.
It is easy to have no real powerful opinion.
It is easy to feel helpless.
***
I am a Filipino living abroad.
And I could take the easier route of not caring about what happens to the Philippines, like what most OFWs and Filipino migrants do.
But I take the road less travelled.
And I genuinely love the Philippines.
I would like to see my country glow with a better future.
***
Technically, I’m old. I’ll be 53 this year.
And although sometimes I feel old, I feel quite young most of the time.
I deal better with younger lovers, and they keep me young, and youthful-looking even.
I don’t worry much about money.
Because I have some.
And because it’s not my language of love.
***
Truth, Reason, Goodness, Compassion are my languages of love.
You be honest with me, you be reasonable, you be righteous, you be kind, and I will respect and love you however filthy or dugyot you look.
And although I may not give you ten pesos for your coffee, I will be honest with you.
I will be reasonable, I will be respectful, I will look at you with respect and kindness.
***
But if you reason by fallacies, if your argument is invalid—and I should know because I was a college instructor of Logic at the University of the Philippines—I have no respect for you.
Or, if you reason well, but it doesn’t have sincerity or compassion—and I should know because I was a college instructor of Ethics at the University of the Philippines—you will always be worse than sh*t to me.
***
If you use your talent to mislead people, I will curse you to hell.
And if you allow yourself to be misled because you refuse to listen to reason, I will curse you the same.
Hell, my friend, is your creation.
And I should know because I’ve been living in a Heaven I’ve created for myself.
***
We all know what they say about giving a person fish for a day, and teaching him/her to fish for life.
But we always forget this saying in the face of elections.
In the face of vote buying, and vote selling—a political practice that was instituted during the Marcos regime.
***
We sell our votes for a day (I don’t, but I like using the first person plural in this section), and we suffer for a lifetime.
We splurge like one-day millionaires because our vote was worth 500 pesos.
Our right to choose our leaders has a value of 500 pesos in just one day, compared to the 2,189 days when we are worth lesser than shit.
(P2,000 if you campaigned for the candidate; while the campaign leader gets P200,000, and a brand new car.)
***
I will be 53, and I know that I am wiser than most.
I love my country-men and -women; but don’t test my patience.
I’m 53, and I can easily stop caring for people who are worse than sh*t!/PN
