Catharsis

“The more often a man feels without acting, the less he’ll be able to act.
And in the long run, the less he’ll be able to feel.”

—	C.S. Lewis

Dream

Nanaginip ako kagabi.

Jing: Sinu ba mahal mo?

He: Si kei.

Jing: Ah, matagal na ba yan?

He: Oo eh.

Jing: Magiging kayo na ba?

He: Kung kaya ko siyang sabayan, siguro. Bahala na.

I went down and found my parents smiling at me.

When I woke up, I told myself: no more. Cry no more. God is telling you something and crying means that you are not listening. So cry no more.

You Are The Only Exception

Final Reblog: Aalis Kang Dala Mo Ako

masaya tayo diba? diba? sana oo parin sagot mo, pero, alam kong tagilid tayo sa tanong na yan.

naalala mo yung nug pumasok ka ng bse? yung unang pasok mo? diba pula pa yung bag mo nun? tapos may nakasabit na mp3 player leeg mo? akala ko nun, naligaw ka lang ng pasok ng room. yun pala kaklase pala kita. anu yung sinabi mong kanta na pinapatugtog sa player mo? “i caught fire?”..

tapos diba nagkatinginan pa tayo? sabi mo nga sakin nerd ako, haha, pwes nagkakamali ka. tapos diba, hindi pa tayo kaagad nag usap noon? lagi kong nakakalimutan kung kelan ka unang pumasok, ngayon palagi ko nang maalala, january 10.

yung unang pag uusap natin, naalala mo? yung binara mo sa sudoku si alister? dun ata ako nagkacrush sa yo, kasi nakakatuwa ka. tapos, sa pag uusap natin, nakuha ko yung number mo.

naalala mo yung unang pinakamahabang usapan natin sa ayala bridge? lumiit ang mundo natin kasi may common friends tayo.

ang init, ang lakas ng hangin ng oras na yun, pero, nananayo ang balahibo ko. kung bakit, ewan ko.

naalala mo yung nung unang beses kita tinext? yung halos di tayo matulog? diba, si ranma ang isa sa mga unang pinagusapan natin? tapos kinuwento ko sa yo na hawak ako sa leeg ng ibang tao noon?

naalala mo yung unang gawaan natin noon ng report? yung nagalit ka sakin, yung nilayuan mo ako nung asa liwasang bonifacio tayo? naalala mo ba yung unang punta ko sa bagac? yung naka orange ako tapos naka college shirt ka ng engineering? naalala mo ba yung unang iyak ko dahil dun? at yung unang beses na halos mawala ka nun?

at yung unang araw na tinawag mo akong my at hindi jin?

naalala mo ba yung tatlong oras mo akong hinantay dahil sa eleksyon noon? at nung hinantay mo ako dahil sa lumaban ako noon sa klase ni gabelo?

naalala mo ba yung wala na akong naisip na paraan para tapusin yung konplikasyon? diba ang hirap, na yung mga kailangan mo hindi mo makuha, kasi hawak na ng iba, kahit di naman na dapat sa kanila?

naalala mo ba yung romeo ang juliet? ang hirap isipin na yung nakikita ko yung posibilidad na maaaring naging kayo.

hindi ko alam kung anung ginawa ko sa dalawang buwan na nawala ka. baka nawala din ako.

naaalala mo pa ba yung tinanong kita, umuulan, naglalakad tayo, kahit pareho tayong may pamasahe? natatakot akong ‘hindi’ ang sagot mo, pero buti na lang at oo parin.

naalala mo ba yung lahat ng away natin, na laging ikaw ang umiintindi at nag sosorry kahit halos laging ako ang nagsisimula?

naalala mo ba yung pinaglaban mo ako, sa sarili mong paraan? na kahit alam mong pareho tayong masasaktan, nagsugal ka?

yung unang gabing ang tagal natin sa walls. ang lamig, pero ang ganda ng langit. ang saya ng mga ilaw. ang tahimik. nung pinahawak mo sakin yung dibdib mo, parang pinahawak mo sakin yung nararamdaman mo. parang masaya kang nararamdaman mo yun.

naalala mo ba lahat ng napanood natin? lahat ng binigay mo?

ako lahat lahat naaalala ko.

lalo na tuwing iiyak ako, papahirin mo yung luha ko, tapos sasabihin mo, “ayokong umiiyak ka, tama na”..pag nagagalit ako sasabihin mo “hayaan mo na sila, tama na”..pag nagagawa ko ng tama yung mga bagay bagay sinasabi mo “i’m proud of you”..yung mga linya mong “ako nga, nadapa” pag masyado na akong madaming sinasabi..yung mga titig mo sakin na kala mo hindi kita nahuhuli pag tinitignan mo ako, yung mga higpit ng hawak mo sa kamay ko, yung mga yakap mo pag natatakot ako, yung luha na bihirang bihira kong makita pag kasama kita..yung tawanan natin kahit bihira kang tumawa sa mga biro ko, yung pagiging totoo ko pag kasama kita, yung pagintindi mo sa lahat ng nagagawa kong mali..

yung lahat ng binubulong mo, yung lahat ng ginagawa mo para mawala yung takot ko.

ang dami nang nagyari diba? minsan nga naisip ko, ang bilis, hindi natin namamalayan, isang taon na. nakaktuwa, pero totoo..

patawad kung minsan naisip kong huminto. sinabi mong kailanman di ka napagod. natutuwa ako, kasi kahit na ang bigat na ng nagawa ko, hindi mo parin yun naisip gawin. salamat talaga.

sana nagtitiwala kang hindi ako hihinto. kilala mo ako, mareklamo ako pero hindi ako humihinto. hindi ako mapapagod. mag aantay ako.

ang dami kong nasabi. madami pa nga akong dapat sabihin eh.

madami pa akong gustong gawin na kasama ka. sana mapagbigyan mo ako. ayoko nang mangyari yung nangyari dati.

saka, ano, aalagaan kita. hindi ako ganon kagaling magluto, at mas lalong hindi ako marunong magplantsa, pero, kaya ko maglinis, at lalong kaya kong makinig. handa akong makinig.

ang dami mong nabago sakin. sa dami hindi ko nga mabilang. sana ganun din ang nagawa ko sa yo. sana patuloy nating sabihin na hindi natin kaya pareho na wala ang isa at isa. kasi totoo.

lagi akong andito. alam mo yan. kaya kong mag antay. kasi alam kong babalik ka.

aalis ka na dala mo ako.

Reblog: Too Early for Tomorrow

Flip through the pages of a calendar. You would see numbers which would mean nothing unless the days they represent have been filled with events. You would not feel each digit’s importance unless something happens, an occurence enough to leave a mark. Seek not its rate of leaving, rather, its power to make you lose imporant things. In just one flip, in just a passage of numbers, you would realize that the sooner another day passes, the sooner you face your fears of what will come.

I can barely describe how I would wish to react to what will soon take place. I am used to the fact that people just come and go. They return, if they wish to, but to say that they will return without changing a thing is pure mediocrity. It’s my greatest fear, that drastic changes will become reasons, and reasons will make me lose strength to hold on.

Everytime I hear the word “Canada”, I just reach the point of getting down on my knees, wishing that, fates will change and plans will be forgotten. It’s hypocrisy that I tell eveybody that it’s completely okay when it’s not.

In the end, confessions will not break what has been planned.

Encroachment

Encroachment is a term which implies “going beyond proper limits”.

What would you have felt if you were in my case, and you were blamed for acting and taking the responsibility which belongs to someone else?

Under justifiable circumstances, you would have probably said that I didn’t have to cross borders. After all, I wouldn’t be the one to be reprimanded for neglect of duty.

I wouldn’t blame you, honestly.

Yan din ang sinabi ni Sir sakin eh: Wag kang bakaw sa kapangyarihan.

Pasensya na, may pilosopiya kasi akong:

IF YOU WANT SOMETHING DONE RIGHT, YOU HAVE TO DO IT YOURSELF.

I just thought I was right, because all this time I had always known I that I was doing the right thing. Nagkukusa lang ako, dahil kung di ko gagawin yun, mas maraming tao ang mapapahamak.

Reblog: Toni Morrison's The Bluest Eye

Love is never any better than the lover. Wicked people love wickedly, violent people love violently, weak people love weakly, stupid people love stupidly, but the love of a free man is never safe. There is no gift for the beloved. The lover alone possesses his gift of love. The loved one is shorn, neutralized, frozen in the glare of the lover’s inward eye. This is a pivotal quote taken from Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye. Love and beauty are relative. We alone know who to love and who to value. Our eyes alone, know what should be seen. Nonetheless, we speak of beauty is if our views of it speak of beauty’s universal meaning. We take standards to what we think should be viewed valuable. We bequeath impression of beauty to people who have more often than not, those races that have higher upbringing than ours.

Race inequality never ceases but it still brings forth a kind of independence that makes an individual realize what he is made of. Thus, quoted from The Bluest Eye once again, “We had defended ourselves since memory against everything and everybody, considered all speech a code to be broken by us, and all gestures subject to careful analysis; we had become headstrong, devious, and arrogant. Nobody paid us any attention, so we paid very good attention to ourselves. Our limitations were not known to us-not then.” The race becomes strong, sturdier than it has ever been, for it knows where to stand; it knows its beauty-far greater beyond everybody’s judgment.

This is a review for Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye.

Background

The Bluest Eye is a subconscious reflection of what the blacks had undergone under the discriminating eyes of the whites. It becomes an outlet; a vent machine of the black, for it reveals their sentiments being considered a lower race.

A background on the treatment of the blacks has to be explained. This novel is created out of emotions, of sympathy, of dismay, of injustice. However, without due justifications of this injustice thru the background of the blacks, efforts to reflect the blacks’ sentiments are futile.As early as 1856 before the Civil War took place, Racism was brought up as the major social issue enveloping the whole of America. Slavery, violation of human rights, disrespect for women and children were some of the direct implications of this oppression. The first apparent evidences of discrimination were segregation, belittlement of blacks’ potentials, and the formation of the Ku Klux Clan which mainly aims to keep the blacks from mingling and residing in areas primarily owned by the whites.

Property and land ownership also became issues in the early 1913. The most deliberating forms of discrimination in the years 1965 to 1969 were the innumerable cases of gang rape and molestation of black women who were not even given the opportunity to stand and speak for the crimes committed against them. Prostitution became a rigid form of physical abuse and human rights violation. Education was not equally honored to blacks and whites. Several courses were restricted to some blacks, such as law, medicine, etc.

Significance of the Review

It is important that students are aware of the kind of literature that the blacks create to reflect their sentiments and thoughts on discrimination. Light has to be shed on this novel, primarily because it is not just a mere narration of a child’s life. Implicitly, it goes beyond the life of every black child, brought up in a race exposed to insult, to mocking, to prejudice. It is a novel which aims to expose what true beauty is-that it is not shown in the color of the hair, the skin, not even in the eyes.

It is also necessary to know the approach most appropriate in the study of this novel. This will help ease difficulty in the part of the readers as it will focus on one angle of the novel-how the story should be seen, how the story should be viewed. Most importantly, This study aims to prove that most readers, are still moved, not just touched by the story itself, contrary to what the author, Toni Morrison stated in her after word. The researcher of this study thus brings forth her own views and opinions which she believes would reflect how she feels about the novel, The Bluest Eye.

The Black Criticism

The Black or African American criticism mainly focuses on the interpretations on the African American Literature. “Black” or “African-American” criticism is marked by a sense that black writing comes out of a sociological, political, ideological and cultural situation marked by oppression and marginalization. ‘Black’ reading then must negotiate the difficult boundaries between textual and cultural meanings, between ‘aesthetic’ and ideological impacts.

According to Lye (2004), an awareness that black experience is historical and cultural: that it has ties to African language, cultural practices and attitudes, that it is formed through the experience of slavery and violence, that it has endured a long and troubled negotiation with white culture, so that black aesthetic production in white cultures is marked by white culture positively and negatively. There are differing focuses on different aspects of black experience — on the African heritage, on the evolved American black culture, on the possibility of adaptation to a new non-racial cultural formation.

Among the themes and issues explored in African American literature are the role of African Americans within the larger American society, African-American culture,racism, slavery, andequality.

The Plot

Nine-year-old Claudia and ten-year-old Frieda MacTeer lived in Lorain, Ohio, with their parents. It was the end of the Great Depression, 1941, and the girls’ parents were more concerned with making ends meet than with lavishing attention upon their daughters, but there was an undercurrent of love and stability in their home.

The MacTeers took in a boarder, Henry Washington, and also a young girl named Pecola. Pecola’s father tried to burn down his family’s house, and Claudia and Frieda feel sorry for her. Pecola loved Shirley Temple, believing that whiteness is beautiful and that she is ugly. Pecola believed that if she had blue eyes, she would be loved and her life would be transformed.

Meanwhile, she continually received confirmation of her own sense of ugliness-the grocer looked right through her when she buys candy, boys made fun of her, and a light-skinned girl, Maureen, who temporarily befriended her made fun of her too. She was wrongly blamed for killing a boy’s cat and was called a “nasty little black bitch” by his mother. Pauline, Pecola’s mother, had a lame foot and always felt isolated. Cholly, Pecola’s father, was abandoned by his parents and raised by his great aunt, who died when he was a young teenager. Cholly returned home one day and found Pecola washing dishes. With mixed motives of tenderness and hatred that are fueled by guilt, he raped her.

Pecola goes to Soaphead Church, a sham mystic, and asked him for blue eyes. Claudia and Frieda found out that Pecola has been impregnated by her father, and unlike the rest of the neighborhood, they wanted the baby to live. They sacrificed the money they had been saving for a bicycle and planted marigold seeds. They believed that if the flowers live, so would Pecola’s baby. The flowers refused to bloom, and Pecola’s baby died when it was born prematurely. Cholly, who raped Pecola a second time and then ran away, died in a workhouse. Pecola went mad, believing that her cherished wish had been fulfilled and that she had the bluest eyes.

Analysis of the Novel

“Black” or “African-American” criticism is marked by a sense that black writing comes out of a sociological, political, ideological and cultural situation marked by oppression and marginalization. ‘Black’ reading then must negotiate the difficult boundaries between textual and cultural meanings, between ‘aesthetic’ and ideological impacts. With this being said, it is concretized that the novel was created out of the experiences and sentiments of the African-Americans during the years 1941 to 1970. This was brought about thru the vivid narration of Pecola’s life as a black American child.

As stated in Morrison’s after word, Pecola’s experiences were reflections of the female violation revealed from the vantage point of the victims of rape who were not inquired during the year when the crime was committed. Lower class employment, prostitution, rape and shattered families-these were the major sociological and cultural issues recounted in the novel. Regardless of the novel’s element of fiction, these issues historically happened.

It is important to remember that the period when this novel was written may also prove to be of great importance in the essence and reality of the story. The novel was created in the years 1965 to 1969, the time when the black Americans experienced what Morrison called “a time of great social upheaval”. The creation of this novel serves as a voice, a revelation of what has long been kept in the minds of the black people.