mapait.

Dalawa sa concepts na tinuturo sa atin ng bawat religion ay ang mga salitang "Fate" at "Faith". Dalawang salitang halos magkatunog at kumbaga ay pwede na ding tawaging homonyms. Pero kung pag-iisipan mo ang mga bagay bagay, ang tanging pareho lang sa mga words na ito ay ang unang dalawang letters nila (at siguro yung pagbasa kung may isfich depek ka). At kung pagsasamahin mo si Fate at Faith sa loob ng isang room, tiyak rambol yun.

Sa religion natin, tinuturuan tayo na maniwala sa mga bagay na walang physical proof. Hindi natin nakikita, hindi natin nararamdam. Hindi natin maintindihan, pero dapat kailangang paniwalaan. Ang dahilan nila? Dahil ang supreme being daw ay beyond comprehension. Walang ebidensiya kundi ang libro at ang mga himala sa panahon ngayon na kadalasan halatang bogus. Kaya ano ang panghahawakan natin? Faith. Pananampalataya. Maniwala at magtiwala. Maniwala sa lahat ng sinasabi, nababasa at kinukwento sa atin. Dahil yun lamang ang namamagitan. Tayo <-> Faith <-> Religion. Kung wala si Faith, empty at void ang connection natin kay Manong R.

Sa pananampalataya natin, kelangan natin sumunod sa mga utos, sa mga nasusulat. Sa konsepto ng tama at mali, higit sa common logic, nadidiktahan din tayo ng religion na gawin ang tama. Kapag gumawa tayo ng mali, madalas magkakasala, magkakaroon ng kasalanan. Kelangan natin umaction sa mga choices na kung saan ang decisions natin ay nadidiktahan ng faith. Dito naaayon ang kahihinatnan natin sa future. Ang umayon sa pananalampalataya, pinagpapala. Isa sa pinakamalaking regalo sa atin ay ang free will. Kaya dapat sa pagpili natin, siguraduhing ikabubuti ng buhay natin ang resulta. Ayos na, mabubuhay tayo leading a very faithful life.

Tapos biglang tatambad satin ang konsepto ng fate, ng itinakda. Na sa bawat nilalang, merong itinakda. Kung pinanganak kang mahirap, kahit anong pagsisikap mo, hindi ka yayaman kung itinakda ka na mahirap. Fate mo yun. Kahit healthy living ka, kung oras mo na mamatay ngayon, aatakihin ka sa puso. Fate mo din yun. Hindi natin malaman kung ala-Choose your own adventure ba yung depinisyon ng fate sa tao. Na kumbaga, magbabago ang fate mo depende sa kung anong pipiliin mong decision sa buhay. Kung ganun ang depinisyon, mas nakakalinaw. Pero may isang istorya na talagang nakakagulo ng utak ukol sa kung ano ba talagang ibig sabihin ng salitang ito.

Sa istorya ng pagbetray ni Hudas kay Jesus, hindi natin maikakaila na merong pananampalataya si Hudas. Hindi niya gustong ipagkalulong si Bosing niya, pero kelangan niya itong gawin. Dahil ito ang itinakda. Kelangan niya ipagkalulong para mahuli si Bosing. Kelangan mahuli ni Bosing para matuloy ang planong isakripisyo ang sariling anak para masave ang sanlibutan. Kelangan itong mangyari. Fate ni Hudas na maging hudas.

O sabihin na natin na gusto talaga niya ipagkalulong si Bosing niya. Hindi din naman natin masasabi dahil wala tayo sa katayuan niya di ba. Malay natin kung talaga gusto niya yung mga pilak na yun more than yung serbisyo niya kay Bosing. Pero kung sakali bang pinili niya na hindi ibenta si Bos, anong manyayari? Hahayaan na lang? Live peacefully? Hindi na masesave ang sanlibutan? Or gagawa ng way ang tadhana para masilaw ulit si Hudas para finally ipagkalulong na niya si Bosing niya?

Eto na yung part na magdidisclaimer ako. Hindi naman sa wala akong pananampalataya. Meron, actually. Pero hindi naman masamang magtanong di ba? Sa tingin ko part ng pagbibigay niya ng free will ay ang karapatan natin para maging curious. Hindi naman sa kinekwestiyon ko, gusto ko lang malinawan.

Paano nga ba pagsasamahin ang konsepto ng Faith at Fate?

Do I need to have faith in my fate?

communion.

hindi naman na bago sa atin ung tuwing magsisimba tayo e kumakain tayo ng hostiya pag oras na ng komunyon.

un ung banal na sandali (tm) na kung saan ung mga taong nagsimba e tatayo, pipila, magdadasal sa pila, maglalakad ng mabagal sa pila, magpapaypay etc etc, tapos pagdating sa dulo e ilalawit ang dila para malagyan ng pagkanipis na "tinapay" sa dila tapos lulunukin nila yon (dahil narinig din nila somewhere na kapag dumikit sa ngala ngala mo ung hostiya e hindi daw pinatawad ang kasalanan mo) tapos maglalakad sa gilid nung mga nakapila at magtataas ng kamay o kaya e tatagilid para magkasya ung katawan nila dun sa maliit na space sa pagitan ng mga taong nakapila at ung mga upuan.

e sanay naman na tayo jan. kaya siguro ung iba hindi na nagtataka pag yung mga ibang nagsisimba e hindi na nagbobother na tumayo at makipila at makikain ng hostiya. iniisip siguro nung mga nakapila e antatamad naman nung mga nakaupo.

pero alam nyo bang may isang matinding SOMETHING sa hindi pagkain ng hostiya? alam mo bang baka mas mauna pa sila sa langit kesa sayo!?!

yep. yari ka.

flashback....grade 6 ako sa marist school. titser ko pa sa homeroom ang napaka-cute na si Ms.Bonilla. napagusapan sa homeroom period ung kumonyon.

nagtatawanan pa kaming lahat dahil sabi nung bozo naming kaklase na umuulit ulit daw siya ng pagpila sa komunyon para maka-score ng hostiya.

tas sabi ni Ms.Bonilla masama daw yon. mauuna sa impyerno ang kaklase naming bozo.

kasi daw, dapat wala kang kasalanan pag nag komunyon ka. dapat ika'y puro at walang bahid ng pagkakasala. hindi pala pwedeng magkomunyon ka lang basta basta. dapat e taos puso ka daw munang humingi ng tawad at nagrepent.

dun nagsimula ang aking hostiyaphobia.

sa totoo lang e takot akong magcommunion. bakit kamo? pano naman kasi, sige kunwari, given na na nangumpisal ako bago magsimba. tapos edi kumpisalan na. may nakita akong nakakatawang panget na tao. at natawa ako bigla dahil subconciously e nalait ko pala siya. nagkasala na ba ako non? hindi na ba ako agad worthy mag communion? pag ba nag communion padin ako matapos kong magkasala ng ganun e mapapalapit ba ko sa pinto ng langit o sa nagliliyab na bunganga ng impyerno?

nakaka praning diba? =\

ang ginagawa ko na lang e habang nasa pila ko ng komunyon e nagsosorry na ko sa mga kasalanan ko tas ung mata ko e naka fix na lang sa mga kamay ko para hindi na ko magkasala pa bago mag communion.

iniisip mo siguro na edi wag na lang sana ko magkomunyon diba?

perooooooo.........ewan, ang sarap kasi ng pakiramdam na nakakapag communion. diba ung communion e parang wordplay sa phrase na to COMMUNE, meaning para makihalubilo, makisalo kumbaga. e diba dun naman nagmula un? nung nag last supper sina Jesus, diba yun naman ung communion? nung time ba na yon e pinag kumpisal ba ni Jesus ung mga disipolo nya bago nya pinakain at pinainom ng alak? hindi naman diba?

pinakain pa nga nya pati si HUDAS. na nung time na yon e malamang mamatay matay na sa guilt-trip dahil sa ilang minuto lang e ipagkakalulo na nya yung Boss nya na nagpapakain sa kanya nung time ng last supper.

all these rules and technicalities confuse and blind us.

baka hindi na natin nakikita ung talagang essence ng communion dahil sa kung ano anong laws at procedures na inaakala nating kelangan nating sundin. when in fact, ang prime purpose ng communion is to be one with our God, one with our community, and be at peace with ourselves. eto ung parte ng misa na pinakasagrado sabi nga, ung liturgy of the eucharist, so siguro dito talaga tayo dapat maging involved at makisali.

kasi kaya ka nga nagsisimba dahil makasalanan ka diba?

hindi ka naman magpapa-ospital kung wala kang sakit.....diba?

feeling close.

[Luke 8:19-21.]
Then his mother and his brothers came to him but were unable to join him because of the crowd.
He was told, "Your mother and your brothers are standing outside and they wish to see you."
He said to them in reply, "My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and act on it. +++

hmmmm...
wouldn't it have been great to be the guy to tell Jesus: "hey Bro, your mom and friends are here".
i wonder who THAT guy was.

Jesus then replied in a tone that seems snobbish when you look at it from a daily conversation point of view.
If somebody told me that my mom and my friends are outside and they want to see me, i'd probably go "ok il be there in a bit, what did i do anyway?". I probably wouldn't tell em something that's partly dismissive.

This gospel is a bit confusing because we don't know what the context was.
Maybe there were people outside waiting to see Him who got impatient and all and namedropped so that they'd be given priority to see Jesus.

Or maybe Mary and Jesus' "brothers" (probably the apostles) didn't really want to see Him that badly, but some jackass just wanted to announce that some religious VIPs just arrived.

aaanyway, i think what the Gospel is saying is that some people assume that they're close to God/Jesus just because they were in speaking terms with Him, or they hung out with Him, or because they offered more to the Church or because they gave alms or something... i think what Jesus is trying to tell us here is that we shouldn't be assuming.

wag tayong Feeling Close ika nga :P

maybe He was letting people know that being close to Him is not important, what matters is how we live our lives.
being religious is not the same as being a good person. that's what i think.
maybe he wanted the scribes and the pharisees and the hypocrites to KNOW that its not what you KNOW about religion that matters, its what you DO.

i read this line somewhere: "do not let religion get in the way of living a religious life." or something to that effect.
confused?

here's a good example:
a priest who molested a little girl = going to hell.
an ex-convict who saved a little girl from a flaming building = going to heaven.

pens.

oh e welcome sa inyo mga co-authors.

wala namang required format or whatever, wala namang taboos or norms or whatever na kelangang sundan, basta maging responsable lang tayo sa mga opinyon natin hehehehe :p

happy religious-blogging :P

puzzle.

its not as hard as it seems....

lost.

sea urchin.

and the little boy said "hi".

and me, juggling beads of sand and water, sweating like a sun-baked egyptian slave, splashing freedom away effortlessly, say "hello."

the child smiled. i miss being that innocent.

he stared. prodded, and ogled.

he blink. screamed and chuckled.

i shall not lie to you, i was in fact, fuming.

it was one thing to be stranded, but to be stranded AND mocked, that was a cruelty that i shall not tolerate.

i wish i could move.

what fun it would be, to penetrate the child.

to drive myself into him.

to poison his insides.

i curse your malicious mind.

i merely want the boy to go. to leave me in peace. to give me a little pre-death solitude.

but no.

the boy took an old branch.

the poker being poked.

an irony in every sense.

i would give up a thousand sons and daughters just so i could prick the boy with one tiny spike.

send him running to the she-demon that spawned him.

but it was not in the designs. these barbs are mere defenses.

i cannot hurt anyone.

such is the fate of me.




a blind warlord.
a broken soldier.
a gun without bullets.
a knife with no edge.



a fuckin deadly sea fuckin urchin with no fuckin feet.






oh please lady luck, let the boy trip over that rock
so that i may prick...

his eyes out.

audio terrorist.

bulldog.

bulldog.

and i always knew he wanted to bark even though he didn’t.

and i always knew he wanted to lick my hand even though i didn’t come near him.

and i always knew he wanted to keep me safe even though he was caged.

and i always knew he wanted to run and play with me even though he was tired.

but i was always busy, or tired, or not in the mood, or indifferent.

he looked at me with his tired eyes, up to the last day of his life he looked at me.

i would like to think that he never had any ill feelings.

i would like to think that the only feeling he had towards me, his owner, was love.

i would like to think that i did everything that i could.

but i am guilty of neglect. plain and simply…i was a bad owner, i was a bad caretaker, i was a bad friend, i was a bad human.

on his last day, he looked like a wreck. he was thin, he was pale, he was dying.

same as always, i came down, went to the cage and put my hand on his head…he struggled to stand up.

he always licked my hand before i went to scholl, or to work…he always licks my hand before i leave..

on his last day, i went down to his cage, looked at him, and then went back up to my room.

i came back down again after a few minutes.

his tongue was out, his eyes were closed.

he was dead.

the last moment we shared: he was him being all dramatic, trying to say goodbye with all of his being, he was bidding me farewell and all i could think about was “where the hell did i leave my phone? maybe i left it upstairs”

the last moment we shared: he was saying goodbye to the only person he loved and i was busy about something else.

the last moment we shared: i was looking at him with pity while he was probably thinking, this is it buddy, im scared but there’s nothing we can do about it..farewell

he said goodbye, and i said nothing.

and all i could focus on now is how guilty i feel.

the selfishness is epic.

squid.

squid.

squid are seen in the market. lying dead on fish stalls. wallowing in their own slime. supine. unmoving. as dead as any other dead thing on the planet.

the said squid, like most other squid, must’ve lived a fairly mundane squid life. wandering around, spurting ink, telling the lady-squid squid-enticing pickup lines and probably getting squid-slapped in the process. he probably lives in a squidapartment and probably drives a squidmobile with squidsubwoofers that plays kick-ass squid songs. most likely he goes to a squiddy little job, gets paid fairly and has no squid complaints whatsoever.

and now he’s dead. as dead as any dead squid could be.

dead. not breathing, not squiggling, not breathing, nor squiggling, just plain and simply DEAD.

and its ok with him.

i mean, who needs a squiddy apartment? who needs to be slapped around by squidgirls? who needs to be squidly forced into squiddy labor only to end up squiddly dead anyway?

get it over with right?

and here I am, judging the poor guy.

i judged him for his weakness. i did not even consider it being a case of some fisherman catching mister squid in a net. i didnt even imagine him being stranded in some sand bank during low tide. i didnt even entertain the notion that maybe he was just weak and helpless; that he was a victim of natural demise.

i just saw him as a case of suicide. like he wanted to get caught.

he probably even cried.

i bought the guy for dinner.

i mean, i’ll be having him for dinner.

not accurate enough? fine. i’ll EAT him for dinner.

and i bet he’ll be a savory dish. and i bet i’ll have my fill. and i bet i’d even save some for tomorrow.

i’ll be full. and happy.

and totally oblivious to his teary-eyed dead squid eyes.

disclaimer: this post has nothing to do with anybody i know, it is definitely not about you so please do not flatter yourself by thinking: “shet, this must’ve been written as a subtle message to me! im so hurt!”….this is simply about a SLIMY, DEAD, SQUID.