filipino memes are just 🤟🤟🤟🤟
‘The Fruit Gatherer’, 1950 | © Fernando Amorsolo
As long as pinararamdam mo sa akin na mahalaga ako, hinding-hindi ako mawawala sa'yo.
The Philippines on Sunday reported 862 additional coronavirus cases and seven more deaths from the respiratory disease.
“Whosoever dies clothed in this
Scapular shall not suffer eternal fire.”
Religious, spiritual, whatever you call it: that’s never been me. Every day I pray using the rosary with my grandmother to some god (or God?) that’s supposedly merciful, loving, like a father would be to his child. But did I really want a father’s love, knowing full well how my father would be to his own? Like some sort of countdown, I use this rosary, this scapular, to keep track of the times I’ve prayed “Our Father,” “Hail Mary,” and “Glory Be,” and a calendar to keep track of the time my father—
a month and two days before a year.
They say that after a year, the soul of a person passed no longer walks the realm of the living. But did I believe that? No, I was a realist. “Was.” I couldn’t have faith in a belief just because others did. I should tell them to “make me believe it,” but I’m sure the pain hasn’t subsided for them even in the least bit. Maybe it sunk not down the drain, but deeper into the heart. But the heart’s just an organ? And it is…
until it stops.
At my niece’s funeral my mother messaged me.
“Nasa hospital papa mo.”
And the next day, I didn’t know we’d have two floors of the funeral homes all to ourselves.
“Okay ka lang ba, ‘nak?” said my mother who was clearly in a state far worse than I was. Who would be okay knowing he’ll have to attend two funerals at the same time?
I was. Until…
“Iiyak mo yan, Echo,” said my cousin who was clearly in a state far worse than I was. Who would cry knowing he was okay?
“Sige lang, Echo, iiyak mo,” said my other cousin who was clearly in a state far worse—
then a tear dropped.
And their words seemed like permission for me to do so. I no longer had to be an adult. My innocence was bare. I was a child again! I was exposed,
but it felt okay to be.
I was about to go to my niece’s room, but an old lady stopped me—my father’s best friend.
“’Wag ka pumasok, hindi matatapos ang sumpa.”
And I trembled. Was it rage? Fear? But I didn’t go in, it was probably the latter. I was scared. What if this pattern of deaths never ends? Five deaths in a year was enough, I said, but somewhere—or someone—in me insisted that it wasn’t enough, it was excessive. How could you? (You?) So, I didn’t go in—I didn’t even attend the burial.
Looks like I didn’t have to attend two funerals at the same time after all.
A sigh of relief—maybe loss—escapes my lips at every moment a person leaves the room my father rested in. They were saying goodbye, but me? I could only say hello.
“Hello Pa, tagal na nating ‘di nagkita ah.”
It was a greeting that would have been good enough to end the cold war between us; we hadn’t seen each other in months. Endless fights and constant friction: the reason for estrangement. Specific reason: substance addiction and selfish actions to serve his own.
How did I know? They told me. They already did, but I just—
I just didn’t believe them before.
I was a realist. He was real. And I believed him to be real. Was I naïve? Was I blinded by the “father” he showed me? Or was it because I didn’t—or couldn’t—doubt him?
And I wanted to say the same. I had to, right? He was there. Always there. And I could have convinced him. I could have changed him. I could have done something—
But his apology did nothing. As if the moment I realized the wrong aligned with the moment things finally went right.
“Nagbago na papa mo, ‘nak.”
I wanted to believe her. She was the one who stood by and withstood him. Who was I to not believe? And I wanted to. I swear, I wanted to! But I couldn’t—didn’t—believe in him.
I didn’t believe in him.
Then the last time I saw him, when I forgave him, was when he opened the visor of his car to hand me something, this rosary, this scapular, I don’t know (maybe both?). And as a visor would snap back to place, reality snapped back;
The day of the burial came.
The last time I’ll see him.
They lifted the casket.
They lifted the glass.
And it was him.
I wanted to give him the scapular promise, but they told me
“’wag, di matatapos ang sumpa!”
So, I didn’t. Because I was a realist. “Was.”
“Whosoever dies clothed in this Scapular shall not suffer eternal fire.”
What sucks about being Filipino is that people here choose to remain ignorant about the things that are happening across the world. It sucks not being able to post online about current issues because people will obviously tell you to “mind your own business!” or, in my native tongue, “pabayaan niyo sila!” which means to “leave them alone!”. I don’t want to hear that from my own countrymen.
Ignorance is bliss? It’s a death sentence, a life unlived.
Philippine police have arrested 90 Chinese for allegedly running an online gambling hub without permits and for violating quarantine restrictions, officials said Sunday.
That awkward moment when you’re getting it on with your manananggal gf as the sun sets but then she splits off her upper half to go get food, leaving you there with her (mostly unresponsive) lower half
Yung mabait ka tas ginalit ka
With his empty eyes, that were once full with the bliss of the world, he gazed at the portrait— the reflection of my aesthetic countenance which he painted with much adoration and repose six long years ago.
Anxiety filled my lungs as we both stared at the painting.
“The remnant of an old passion,” he uttered with forthright haughtiness, “ang bahagi ng pag-ibig na matagal ko nang kinalimutan.”
Ang mga salita niya'y paulit-ulit akong sinaksak ng mga alaala ng nakaraan. Buong tapang akong ngumiti upang itago ang sakit na gumuguhit sa aking puso, “We must burn it then.”
Tuwiran bang hayaang ika'y ibigin, kung sa sarili'y wala mang pakandili'y?
Hindi ba isang halimbawa ng maraya, pagtanggap kahit ‘di mawari
-May 31, 2020
Mag-iilang buwan nang hindi napapalibutan ng mga tao.
Mag-iilang buwan nang lumipas na hindi nakapasok sa paaralan.
Mag-iilang buwan na nang nakadamdam ng matinding kalungkutan.
Pag-aapi sa sarili. Pagkakawala ng tiwala sa sarili.
Mag-iilang buwan na. Ngayong lumipas ang panahon, tila bang may mga Mayang bumalik sa kanilang gubat kung saan sila nararapat. Mag-iilang buwan na at ngayon masasabi kong “Masaya na ako.”
It follows a career-oriented girl whose priorities have always been clear for her, even if it compromises the things she really wants to do. When a typhoon worsens while she’s at work, she finds herself trapped inside the building with a food delivery guy, whose background is also more complicated than he looks. While stranded, the two learns more about each other’s lives, and soon will also learn some things about themselves and their feelings.
Pagod na kong laging mag-isip kung nasan na ba tayo? Nasaan na yung mga pangako. Yung mga katagang binitawan mo? Nasaan na?
Hindi ko naman tinago sayo yung kalagayan ng isip at ng diwa ko. Pero bakit ganito? Sadya bang nakikipaglaro ka lang o kung ano?
Sabihan mo naman ako, para kahit papano'y alam ko naman kung saan ako pupuwesto.
Kung ipaglalaban pa ba o susuko na?
Kung maghihintay pa ba o lilimot na?
Nawa'y sumagot kana, nang matapos na, sapagkat pagod na ang utak ko sa lahat ng pagdududa at pangamba,
sayo at sa sarili pa.