24 July 2008
The hardest things to say, circa 2008
In life today, the three hardest things to pull from the diaphragm are, by hierarchy:
No kidding. And they even sound like one big compound sentence. These three modern very-realities almost always get bashed by irony and end up unspoken, or even being thought of—at all. Yes there are a lot of idealist girl-power movements and tra-la-la groupies rallying for “great, fabulous, wonderfully amazing singlehood”; but really, can the mushier of the sexes keep zzz-ing each night knowing that come morning she remains the “single, needy, stubbornly in-denial loner”? Or when all the machismo and playboy chauvinism finally gets boring, and biceps begin to sag, eww, will Adam’s ally still neglect the fact that he does want to settle down with The One, after all?
Yet on the other side of shit: After several or even just a few years of marriage, when the promise of a highfalutin happily-ever-after had gotten blurrier and blurrier, who would still (enthusiastically) claim ownership to those shiny little jewelry on their fingers? I know. We’re shy when we’re still single and we’re shy when we’re finally hitched. Everybody bang their heads to a wall. Nine times.
On the top spot, it's the biblical Public Enemy #1. Let's pause from all life's poops and check out this little trivia in Wiki: Did you know that a certain bird called Zebra finch becomes a philandering maniac when exposed to noise pollution? Hell yeah. “It's too noisy in here, honey, lemme go fuck the housebird next door. And her peacock grandma. And her bestfriend's sister's teen twin ostrich cousins.” Indiscreetly fascinatingly obscene, no? But apparently it happens. Noise pollution too, says Wiki, forces some animals to communicate louder; but now if an anteater struts in the middle of the highway looking for lunch, absentminded be-iPod-ed ants would be in so much trouble because they missed the watchtower's predator alarm because the poor watchtower guy has a sore throat and the siren's out of order. Life. Finally, noise mess evicts some animals from their usual habitats, resulting to tragedies like beached whales. And more expensive apartments.
SO WHAT? WHAT DO AUSTRALIAN BIRDS, STUBBORN WHALES AND CRAWLERS WITH HEARING DEFECTS HAVE TO DO WITH ME, THE SUPERIOR INHABITANT OF THIS WRETCHED PLANET?
Nothing, really. But wouldn't it be nice to simply let them animals enjoy/endure their lives without bothering them with the powers of the human voice? After all, if you will look at it, it's gonna be just the damned icky cockroaches after The Deadline... So instead of promoting noise pollution by reciting litanies of Hey You Don't Look At Me It's Your Fault You Lowlife and I Only Did It Because I Needed To Save My Ass And I Deserve To Be Worshiped More Than Any Of You in an endless chase of pinpointing who faulted whom—when you perfectly know you are the culprit—simply apologize. I. Am. Sorry. It's only three words. Two, if you're casual. One, if you're a bit shy. A weired sound if you're a donkey. It can be hard since we're all superstars, but it always makes things way easier for everyone, and it's more environmentally friendly too. Lessen the pride. It's only for the number of one night stands, anyway... or not.
So: Live and let live, even if life gets harder and more embarrassing each day. It's gonna be fine.
Admit the truths and let them be heard. Save the whales. Protect the ants. Love the birds—I know I do.
I’m sorry.
I’m love-less.
I’m married.
I’m love-less.
I’m married.
No kidding. And they even sound like one big compound sentence. These three modern very-realities almost always get bashed by irony and end up unspoken, or even being thought of—at all. Yes there are a lot of idealist girl-power movements and tra-la-la groupies rallying for “great, fabulous, wonderfully amazing singlehood”; but really, can the mushier of the sexes keep zzz-ing each night knowing that come morning she remains the “single, needy, stubbornly in-denial loner”? Or when all the machismo and playboy chauvinism finally gets boring, and biceps begin to sag, eww, will Adam’s ally still neglect the fact that he does want to settle down with The One, after all?
Yet on the other side of shit: After several or even just a few years of marriage, when the promise of a highfalutin happily-ever-after had gotten blurrier and blurrier, who would still (enthusiastically) claim ownership to those shiny little jewelry on their fingers? I know. We’re shy when we’re still single and we’re shy when we’re finally hitched. Everybody bang their heads to a wall. Nine times.
On the top spot, it's the biblical Public Enemy #1. Let's pause from all life's poops and check out this little trivia in Wiki: Did you know that a certain bird called Zebra finch becomes a philandering maniac when exposed to noise pollution? Hell yeah. “It's too noisy in here, honey, lemme go fuck the housebird next door. And her peacock grandma. And her bestfriend's sister's teen twin ostrich cousins.” Indiscreetly fascinatingly obscene, no? But apparently it happens. Noise pollution too, says Wiki, forces some animals to communicate louder; but now if an anteater struts in the middle of the highway looking for lunch, absentminded be-iPod-ed ants would be in so much trouble because they missed the watchtower's predator alarm because the poor watchtower guy has a sore throat and the siren's out of order. Life. Finally, noise mess evicts some animals from their usual habitats, resulting to tragedies like beached whales. And more expensive apartments.
SO WHAT? WHAT DO AUSTRALIAN BIRDS, STUBBORN WHALES AND CRAWLERS WITH HEARING DEFECTS HAVE TO DO WITH ME, THE SUPERIOR INHABITANT OF THIS WRETCHED PLANET?
Nothing, really. But wouldn't it be nice to simply let them animals enjoy/endure their lives without bothering them with the powers of the human voice? After all, if you will look at it, it's gonna be just the damned icky cockroaches after The Deadline... So instead of promoting noise pollution by reciting litanies of Hey You Don't Look At Me It's Your Fault You Lowlife and I Only Did It Because I Needed To Save My Ass And I Deserve To Be Worshiped More Than Any Of You in an endless chase of pinpointing who faulted whom—when you perfectly know you are the culprit—simply apologize. I. Am. Sorry. It's only three words. Two, if you're casual. One, if you're a bit shy. A weired sound if you're a donkey. It can be hard since we're all superstars, but it always makes things way easier for everyone, and it's more environmentally friendly too. Lessen the pride. It's only for the number of one night stands, anyway... or not.
So: Live and let live, even if life gets harder and more embarrassing each day. It's gonna be fine.
Admit the truths and let them be heard. Save the whales. Protect the ants. Love the birds—I know I do.
8 said something:
"We’re shy when we’re still single and we’re shy when we’re finally hitched. "
Really? Natakot ako bigla.. hehe
Really? Natakot ako bigla.. hehe
Zebra finch..it seems to be an interesting bird. Not that I'm saying I'm interested with birds, especially those that go into hiding (to some nether region where the sun never shines, perhaps?). The Zebra finch must be one helluva sexual bird. The guys with "ED" must be, or should be, in utter envy :)
I’m sorry.
I’m love-less.
I’m married.
-nyahaha. agree. =)
I’m love-less.
I’m married.
-nyahaha. agree. =)
Vera: Thank. You. Please don't make me cry.
I know. Not all superstars are as cute as us. But it's still baffling-part-amazing how people still manage to disintegrate of the P-thing and not regret it. If only we could draw such attitude from more beautiful things like cleaner hi-ways, more productive governance and sensible billboards without so much focus on vanity and closet fags...
I know. Not all superstars are as cute as us. But it's still baffling-part-amazing how people still manage to disintegrate of the P-thing and not regret it. If only we could draw such attitude from more beautiful things like cleaner hi-ways, more productive governance and sensible billboards without so much focus on vanity and closet fags...
Chyng: It's really nerve-wrecking to be in the middle. It's easier to choose one side and get the show rolling/over with. (Hmm... you ARE in the middle, right?) ;>
Herson: Like they say: birds will be birds.
Ka Bute: What an interesting nick. :D
pride. it's deadly. buti nalang ako, kaya kong hamakin ang sarili ko, pag alam kong mali, nagsosorry ako. di lang kaya ng konsensya ko.
i love them birds too.. heehee