A Modicum of Anonymity

A couple of years ago, I would have been enraged by what happened today.

Let me first just try to explain what I think about stereotypes, and the endless amount of people who just would not do away with both. Although these are two separate things, I believe that there is not much difference between them.

For me, stereotyping others can be compared to a meringue cake with two layers. The base having vanilla cake, fruit salad that has been soaked in sugar, and whipped cream. The top would only have plain store-bought meringue. It's a load of trouble for your blood sugar level, cheap, and eating it would do you more harm than good BUT you eat it anyway.

I am currently taking English lessons for reasons I cannot mention, but let me just say that it is not because I need the subject (at least I hope not). Let us just say that I need the curriculum points the English class is equivalent to, plus the fact that it actually is an interesting subject.

Anyway, we were asked to read George Orwell's "Animal Farm". Last week, I reserved half a day for reading the entire book in one sitting, while taking notes. In class today, we were grouped and given questions to further discuss it. There came a point when I glanced on my notes to refer to something, and I felt my group mates turn silent. I assumed that they were probably wondering why I had notes in the first place.

"I had time," said I, smiling slyly while flipping through the book, trying to "break the ice".

One of my Swedish classmates asked, "Don't you have kids?"

A couple of years ago, I would have definitely been enraged, yes...but not now.

Hopefully, not any time in the future.

Asians in this part of the world are infamous in a way that they come to Scandinavia to hitch on their boyfriends' money and benefits; have kids with them, and receive money the government gives to their citizens (they would earn this money through their children who receive financial support from the country). While it would seem negative to other Caucasians at this part of the world, it really is not as bad as it looks because some couples actually love each other and want to start a family together.

On the other side of being Asian, there are also those who actually work hard to have a career, and who take courses to update themselves on the current trends in their areas of expertise before and/or while starting a family.

Then, I just kept asking myself why I did not get mad. Have I been accustomed to this or did I simply get older? That's a possibility, of course. Maybe, I was also more understanding of the Asian stereotypes some Caucasians still have of us.

Either way, it felt great that I was more concerned of the reason why I did not get mad at that comment than getting mad at it as a reaction.

I also found it hilarious that she was more interested to know if I had kids than noticing how I am able to properly answer most of the questions in the group discussion.

"Not yet...?", I replied curtly.

A Modicum of Anonymity | An Overshadow's Cast

This morning, I heard the news: multiply is closing down. It took an ounce of strength to go back and read my blog entries.

The photos consoled me with familiar and smiling faces, but my entries were of pain and fighting until I could not fight anymore.

It was a time in my life where the only strength I had were of prayers and words, and I used it well.

Reading back to those entries, it made me realize how far I have gone, and how much pain there have been. It almost felt like a lifetime ago. In fact, half a decade ago. The nauseating part was realizing how much of the vibrance and confidence I had had also faded.

It almost feels like those words were not mine at all, an entirely different being. Back then, I wrote those words, and it gave me the flair I needed to get back on my feet and not lose sight of what should be. I read the same words this morning, and it reminded me of that spark.

My words fail me nowadays, and it does not comfort me as it used to. I do not believe enough anymore: in myself, in my words. Maybe because my old self had strength, and persistence against contentment.

Lately, all I did was be contented. Maybe it was age, because one has to learn how to calm down somehow.

The imminent pain is within. Before, I had the entirety of myself fighting against the flow of negativity around me. With the changes in culture, language, and people, I was forced to develop myself and almost lose my mind in the vast need of adjusting in. The only thing I am afraid of is that I end up never recovering from that.

There is struggle from all directions: against being stereotyped, against the norms. The fight to retain the right kind of knowledge where it should be kept flowing, even when there is never enough most of the time. Sometimes, even against racism. Can you believe that? At this age and time.

My perspective is wider and more understanding than I thought I ever was, and I still fear that I might have probably lost myself in it.

I always love a good challenge, and a lot has happened over the years. They changed me in an unfathomable sense I still cannot recover from, but I am in a happier place now. That part I am not complaining about. Then again, who said I was complaining in the first place?

And it's a sorry, frightful thing
when you want to cry, but you can't keep from laughing.

- Deb Talan, "Tell Your Story Walking"

2012

It's almost the third day of the New Year, 2012 and I still seem pretty speechless about things. Like other people who are active with social networks, and someone who actually created a blog: I feel that I should be saying something worth any reader's time. Should I even attempt to do so?

Maybe. Maybe not. I got my mind concentrated on coming home to Manila to really care about resolutions and saying something really nice. However, I did attempt to make a comment on spreading peace this year. World Peace. The stereotypical answer of any beauty pageant candidate, if asked what she wishes for.

Somewhere in my heart, I do wish the same.

Then again, I am not a beauty pageant candidate.

A new year to me is like midlife-crisis on an annual basis. The questions come to me before the clocks hit twelve:

Have I achieved what I wanted to become?
Did my decisions put me in a better place than the year before?
Do I remain to be apathetic as a means of coping with certain sadness?
What have I done that really mattered?
Do I feel fulfilled?

And after going through all these questions, I usually end up with this line: Oh crap. I am getting closer to my silver years.

No, nothing superficial really comes to my mind. Just an annual reminder how close I will get to my senior citizen years, because I'm pretty sure another 25 years would feel like a snap of the fingers again.

I guess by now, even you are sure to know the answer to the question I also ask myself, "Has my pessimism ceased to exist?"

On Coming Home

There is a certain uneasiness I can compare a new year to: going back to see your family and friends after a long time of staying abroad.

Of course I love my new life, no doubt about that. I also love my family, my friends, and my hometown. I always thought that being homesick was something only weak people are not able to handle, but even the strongest of all has a weakness.

Is it worth the pain of leaving everything you have ever come to know to have a life filled with love and affection? Of course! Who would want to refuse oneself a life with so much cheesiness you can actually make food out of it? Okay, that part was gross.

But how can one continue to live? My parents are old enough to be my grandparents, and I feel blessed for them to have survived that long. We will all soon be living in different continents, my siblings included. How can I be fully comfortable knowing that? We were raised to take care of our elders, and this is a part of who I am. Can I feel fulfilled knowing that this part of me is not being acted out properly?

So many questions. Even more questions now that a new year has begun. Hopefully, I get to answer all of them even before this month ends.

Yeah.

Alright.

Audio of Choice for this entry: Chris Daughtry's Home

Often times, we are faced with emotions that are deceived with smiling faces, or a smiling face that suddenly breaks into a long, unsettling stare onto a wall, on the floor, or through a window.

Then, a long sigh. Frustration? We can never be too sure.

A Modicum of Anonymity | A Flickering Streetlight

In a cafe around the corner this morning, a man and a boy walked in at about 10am. They both ordered drinks, and did not talk much. They just shared the table, but looked sideways out the window. One could feel that there was something wrong. An observant person would be able to instantly guess that something was not right, but only someone who has been through an ordeal would be able to perfectly guess what was going on. One can only hope that it was not a tragedy that they shared at that moment. It was too quiet for a morning in a cafe, just a couple of days before Christmas.

Hence, I sometimes avoid people. I do not want to see such emotions. I also avoid the sadness, because I can barely handle my own. When someone is in pain, I am compelled to do something about it. That's a terrible weakness.

On the way home tonight, I came across a street lamp with a bulb that needs changing. At first, there was that utter silence of the cold winter night. The street light started to flicker, and the bulb began humming a little, signaling its need to be replaced. It stayed on and flickered again, then snow fell.

I stood under the flickering street lamp for awhile and saw glimpses of reality on the few times the light actually worked. I looked down at the pavement and saw shadows of everything around me where the light shone.

I have envisioned many ways to write the first entry to this blog, but only in this perfect moment when that light shone, that it gave me a perspective I wish to see, even beyond my comprehension.

Well, one does not really need to understand things well enough to talk about it. Sometimes, one just needs to write what one is willing to understand.

Thus, this.

For what its worth, the video below was the song playing this morning: Band Aid's "Do They Know its Christmas?" back in 1984. God Jul och Gott Nytt År!

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