In Your Arms

So, God has once again fed words and melodies in my heart. I was not expecting this yesterday, but suddenly, right before leaving for my sister's place, He led me to write this.



Yes, this has a tune (which I'll have to teach my guitarist Dad, I suppose).



In Your Arms



You call me beautiful

You call me wonderful

You called me into You



You have completed me

You satisfy me

You have made me live



Chorus:

In Your arms, I'm safe

In Your arms, I'm whole

In Your arms is where I belong



In Your arms, I'm home

In Your arms, I soar

In Your arms is my freedom



I am surrounded

By Your unfailing love

It's where I find my joy



My soul dances with You

My heart wants to soak in You

I'm desperate for Your love



Bridge:

You have bought me with a price

You have saved me with Your love

I will seek Your face forevermore

From the Heart of an Enthralled Daughter

Okay, I think I should tell you one mighty thing He is getting me to do.

For the past few weeks, after praise and worship --- one of my favourite bits of church where I get to pour my heart to my Papa God --- words and melodies instantly come to me. These are my heartsongs to Him, heartsongs He's asked me to write down.

This is just one of them. I don't know what He has in store for it, but since it's from him, I know it will be beyond amazing.


I Surrender

I abandon myself to You
For Your honour, for Your glory
I’m devoted to Your love
And make Your ways, Lord, mine

I will desperately seek Your face
Like the air, I need You
No one else satisfies my soul
But Your love, Lord, my all

Chorus:
I surrender, give my praise to You
I will bow down on my knees
I surrender, give my praise to You
Oh, Lord, my everything

You are worthy, Lord, to receive
All the praises of my lips
Lord, Your goodness alone fills me
You’re sufficient in all ways

Bridge:
I am all Yours, all Yours, all Yours
I am all Yours, all Yours, all Yours

Words of Wisdom for My Sixteen Year Old Self

Firstly, yes, I'm back! I almost forgot I had this account. Gah!

I guess thanks to my friend Mon for kind of reminding me of the existence of this site. Anyway...

***
It was just a normal day. Well, not so normal given I actually had one of those rare urges to clean the hodgepodge of things in my drawer. I was culling through the clutter when I saw....could it be? But of course! Red strip on top denoting year level? Check. Green text scrawled all over? Check. A 2x2 ID photo of myself pre-orthodontia and with my de rigeur I-stuck-my-finger-in-an-electric-socket hair? Check. Yup, it can only be my junior year high school ID card. Wow! Six years after I absentmindedly dumped it in my drawer after the end of the school year, I am now faced again with my kooky sixteen year old self...and her equally nuts twenty-two year old self wants to tell her things.



So, high school junior Allie --- oh sorry! Toni! I almost forgot that it was in university when you stopped using your first name in public. --- listen up. Your older, wiser, but still crazy future self wants to impart a few things she's learnt in the six year gap between you and her. Take down notes, okay (Do I even need to ask you that, though? You always do!).



1. You know how you don't care what people think of you as long as you're happy? Good on you! Continue that.



If there's anyone that's normal...that isn't you. But then again, I know that's a compliment for you. To you, different is just a synonym for special (Besides, your trusty, battered Roget's Thesaurus says so! Haha!). So what if not every classmate of yours sucks up words as much as you do? So what if they don't find the thrill of creating stories all that, well, thrilling? It's what makes you happy, and if you have to be alone in that world, so be it.



Guess what? Eventually, your never betraying your passions will pay off tremendously. You will end up being rewarded for things that, to be honest, don't feel like work to you because you enjoy them. In fact, guess what? You will end up gaining friends --- real friends --- because of it. They will end up admiring you for doing things passionately and just being you.



Keep it up.



2. Wearing lip gloss does not connote automatically to being an air head.



The same goes for putting on powder. And actually going to the washroom to brush your hair.



(Surprise, surprise for those who've known me recently. Yes, once I hated make-up!)



Sixteen year old Toni, I have a little confession to make. Now, please promise me that you won't sucker punch your older self, okay?



I betrayed you. I like lipstick. In fact, I have an entire canister devoted to just lip product. I also have two cases of make-up other than said can. Not just that, but I have --- not one, not two, not three --- seven boxes of accessories. Oh, and yes, my hairbrush is right next to me as I'm typing this.



And I'm not sorry.



You may slap me now. But wait. Before you do, let me ask you something. Just why are you angry at your future self for something even your mum does?



So now, you're quiet.



Look, I know why you refuse to preen yourself. Being Little Miss Literature Geek is about the only thing you've known as your identity throughout high school. Naturally, you thought you had to look the part. Any deviation --- whether glossy lips, tinted cheeks or, shudder, non-disheveled hair --- would mean losing your identity.



But look! I still know that Shakespeare was born near Avon; it's not just a make-up brand to me. I still know that Anna Karenina is a Leo Tolstoy novel, not a Russian designer. And yes, I still want to see Paris for the history and culture in it as much as the window shopping.



Physical beauty and brains can coexist in a person. When you try something new, you don't strip away your identity. You add to it.



Oh, and yeah, you'll start bringing Body Shop Satsuma lip gloss to school come senior year. Trust me.



3. Don't hate every single boy in the world except your father just because the ones in school treat you badly.



Remember that promise you made to yourself never to marry? Bull! Your twenty-two year old self does envision her future self in that lovely harbourside penthouse flat at thirty-three (just like you have)...waking up next to the man she'd promised to spend a lifetime cherishing.



You're shuddering, I know. You're surrounded by guys who've called you every possible mean name on the planet. How could you like boys after they've made you cry in class innumerable times?



Well, honey, it gets better. Men are not all like that. Hello! You were raised by one such exception to the "Boys are stupid" rule you've concocted back in sophomore year. Surely, there are others like your Dad too (Spoiler: You become friends with plenty of them.).



Oh, I know you have a romantic side (Those fairy tales you made for Sir Kiko Vega's English class a year ago? That's proof.). Don't give up on that. Ever.



4. Enjoy high school whilst it lasts.

Trust me, you will miss it. Sure, there's the bullying, total PE fails (including about 45 instances of a volleyball hitting your sweaty self, thrice in the face), overpriced cafeteria food, itchy uniform, and whatnot. But it is also here you learnt that you can write and revived the love for language. It is here you became aware of the world not revolving around you. It is here you've met and deepened friendships with some of the most amazing people on the planet (Heya, Cid, Christia, Camille, Hannah, and Lui!)



And yes, you'll end up losing your alumni card....and itching to go back to Seton just to renew it.

***

I'm now a very happy 22, blessed to live my life yet still excited for the surprises along the way. I look back to my high school junior self, and think "I've come a long way from her, yet I am still her." That's how it's supposed to be, I guess.



Why do I get the feeling 28 year old Alexis will be writing to my self now?

SNSD (Spiel on the Nation Selecting Its Direction)

Okay, with that title, I just revealed that I have, indeed, been bitten by the Hallyu bug. Oh yes, I'm not kidding. Little Ms. French film also listens to music with "saranghae" in the lyrics now. Applaud Yani for her epic convincing powers, I suppose. If it wasn't for her, (and a certain Alexander Lee Eusebio of U-Kiss) I'd still be free of this current spaz attack onslaught that gets triggered with every mention of Seoul. Yes, K-Pop fans, you may now congratulate her.

Of course, if you're a K-Popper (or even if you aren't. They're that immense.), you'd know So Nyeo Shi Dae or, as it's more popularly known, Girls' Generation. Yes, that would be the nine-member pop group that popularised songs such as "Gee", "Genie" and that hard to dislodge from the loop in your brain "Oh". They are, in fact, so popularly huge, their manager even decided to buy out a song Ke$ha was supposed to include in her album (That'd be "Run Devil Run").

Of course, this newfound musical (and full-on cultural, actually) isn't just limited to Taeyon and the rest of the girls. If you follow me on Twitter and Tumblr or are a Facebook friend, you'd know very well that I am a Kiss Me ( fan of U-Kiss) and a huge one at that (with extra immense fandom on Senhor Eusebio). I also happen to like CNBlue, Cocoon Bells, Alex, Evan, K. Will and other music stars from Korea.

I know. It's very shocking to hear it from the mouth of this Europe-phile. But yes, music is music no matter where it comes from so I guess I'm allowed to fan girl, oui? As a matter of fact, I have compiled a few things I like about the K-Pop industry in general and have decided, since it's just a week away, to apply it to somewhere seemingly highly unlikely: the upcoming elections. So yes, (insert presidential candidates name here), you have a few things to learn from Jessica Jung and her mates.

1. There is no such thing as entitlement. You have to earn your right to be in.

A little known fact about these Hallyu stars by non fans is that most of the time, you have to apply into entertainment companies. You send in your resume and go through a rigorous selection process in order to be even considered a trainee, someone who still needs a lot of practices to be able to be launched as an artist. It is very, very seldom that an artist is discovered, and if they do, they are usually just picked to join the trainings, not get plugged into a group automatically (As in the case of Alexander of U-Kiss).

And no, relatives of Korean showbiz royalty do not get special treatment or an easy way into the industry just because of the surname. They have to apply for the position and prove their worth...just like everyone else. So, no. Kim Kibum of U-Kiss, for example, wasn't a shoo in just because Hyung Jun of SS501 is his brother.

Unfortunately, many politicians related to those who've held public office long or, even, affiliated with them feel like they're automatically entitled to lead simply because of the blood running in their veins. Even if they aren't qualified, they get into politics because, for them, being so-and-so's son or brother or second cousin thrice removed is enough to merit them a slot in congress, senate or wherever. And when they lose, they attribute it to cheating, something they actually did during the vote count.

Ability, people, not surname.

2. Quality is never compromised. Every day, they seek nothing but the best.

The Korean music industry is constantly trying to find a different, explosive way to make their videos and songs even more awesome, catchy, and memorable than they already are. Even if they exhaust all their effort into finding that right song or technique, they do not care simply because it means making their fans happy. So Nyeo Shi Dae’s manager even had the galls to, as mentioned earlier, buy out a Ke$ha song that was supposed to be included in the latter’s album simply because it works for the group.

I really hope our politicians would seek all legal (take note of that word) ways to solve whatever problems our country has. It’s their job anyway as public servants. They are called to, well, serve. And this has to be a continuous, constant effort for whatever solution they find to work.

3. They know who to thank for their status: their supporters.

K-Pop artists are renowned for their humility and love for their fans. They never fail to thank their fans (either by word or by, say, staging a free concert) at every show. If ever they commit mistakes (even just a single sour note), they would not hesitate to issue an apology. They read as much fan letters as they could, and even ask their managers, at time, for more time with fans. Why? It’s simple really. Without fans to support them, a K-Pop performer’s (or any artist’s, for that matter) career would fizzle and die out. That is why they feel indebted to the people that go to their concerts and shows.

A really good example of this was U-Kiss’ first Manila tour. From the moment they touched down on the Philippines, they were already welcomed by fans, but instead of shooing them away with their bodyguards, they actually talked to some fans and even shook their hands. This rapport extended into their mall shows where the boys actually initiated conversations with those in line for the album signing. They even asked for an extension of the album signing to accommodate more fans.. Oh, and yes, every single gift and fan letter was taken all the way home to Korea because the boys appreciate them all so much.

I really hope our future leaders realise that they’d be elected into position by the everyday people, and for that, they have to serve them well. They must never forget who put them in power, a power that calls for responsibility to those they are indebted to.

In general, the K-Pop industry works because of, well, common sense, and one of the facts that the showbiz industry there recognises is that it’s a job. Despite the glitter, glamour, and cute little aegyo costumes, an entertainer should simply do his job.

A president, senator, mayor or even councilor is an even bigger job than simply singing onstage. They are called to lead, and I hope they, like the Hallyu stars their younger constituents follow, would do their job too.

Here’s to us electing the rightful officials in May…and me being able to dance “Mworago” by U-Kiss properly.

Allie's Letters to Danielle: Part 4

Ma chèrie Danielle,

Yet again, this is the 22 year old, crazy persona of your mother.

How are you? I do wonder what’s on your mind right now. Are you dreaming about that little spark of ambition you’ve been nurturing since you were running around with your doll? Are you thinking about the people you’ve created in your mind that you’ve been itching to put down on paper? Or, are you in reverie over that sweet, dashing young man you’ve told me about in the secret of a mother-daughter bond session? Oh, we most certainly have a lot to talk about, don’t we, my dear? Haha! I do promise to deal with all that pretty soon. I await writing to you about these pressing matters of growing up.

Again, I do still wonder --- as a twenty-two year old tapping on her laptop, still reeling in from her studies --- how the world of my future daughter will be like. Are all children given the rights to go to school? Is there food on the table for every family? Hey, who holds the highest office in the land; who makes all these things possible in the first place?

I’m sorry if I’m suddenly prodding. I guess it’s just the effect of the season. For you see, as I write this, it is barely month away from me and the rest of my countrymen casting their votes to see who will lead the nation for the next six years. That’s right. We are about to elect our next president, and, well, until now, I’m still weighing in who I will shade on that ballot.

Every single thing about each candidate really must be considered. Have they, even before venturing into politics, done something to better the lives of those around them? How’s their family; are they whole? How about their heart? Will they ever think of stealing from the chest of this land to go to their expensive sports cars? All of these, I really must think thoroughly about.

Why? Because I’m thinking about one person when I cast that vote. You. Well, it’s actually you and the rest of your generation. You see that little blot of ink corresponds to six years of handing someone the future of my beloved country. That’s six years where he is able to make lasting changes in our beloved islands --- whether or not it’s beneficial to society. Yes, that one day will impact not just the next six years of the Philippines, but you right there reading this around thirty years after I’ve shaded that circle.

And, that’s why I must take into account everything. That’s the way I choose to vote. I choose not to step blindly into that precinct. For my nation’s sake. For your sake.

I hope the decisions I and the rest of my country make on the 11th of May will turn out for the best. I can’t wait to see you grow up in a land where everything’s possible.

Of course, Mummy always loves you!

With love,
Mum

Allie

Aquarela das Filipinas

Uhm..yeah, the culture geek attacks yet again!

This time, her mind flew off to Brazil, land of stunning beaches, a vibrant festival called Carnaval, and oh yeah, great music. Please bear with her Portuguese-spouting for now. She promises to return to normal (whatever she calls normal) pretty soon.

This one is called "Aquarela do Brasil" ("Watercolours of Brazil" in Portuguese, and it was composed by Ary Barroso in 1939. This would have to be my favourite version of the song sung by João Gilberto, Gilberto Gil, and Caetano Veloso (three cantores I utterly admire, especially the first one.). What can I say more about this song except that I love how breezy it feels, as if I were suddenly transported to Ipanema by ear. Oh, and of course, we can not deny the beauty of the Portuguese language in the song.

Yes, of course, I'm not going to go and leave you scratching your heads at what this admittedly addictive song means. Here is the translation to the Portuguese lyrics:

Brazil
My Brazilian Brazil
My cunning mulatto
I will sing of you in my verses
Oh, Brazil, samba that gives swing,
That makes people sway
Oh, Brazil of my love
Land of Our Lord

Brazil! Brazil!
For me... for me...

Ah, open the curtain of the past
Bring the Black Mother down from the mountains
Place the Congo King in the congado
Brazil! Brazil!
Let the minstrel sing again
In the melancholy moonlight
Every song of his love
I want to see the Bahian woman
walking,
Trailing through the salons
Her lacy skirts

Brazil! Brazil!
For me... for me...

Brazil
Good and savory land
Of the cunning dark-skinned woman
With an indiscreet gaze
Oh, Brazil, green that makes
The world amazed
Oh, Brazil of my love
Land of Our Lord

Brazil! Brazil!
For me... for me...

Oh, this palm tree that gives coconuts
Where I hang my hammock
On clear moonlit nights
Oh, hear these murmuring fountains
Where I slake my thirst
And where the moonlight comes to play
Oh, this Brazil, beautiful and swarthy
Is my Brazilian Brazil
Land of samba and tambourines

Brazil! Brazil!
For me... for me...


Oh yes, that was indeed a sort of dance song...about their country.

What kind of people love their country so much that it makes them dance, a form of self-expression?


Well, apparently, the Brazilians do. They love their good and savoury land so much that they can't help voice (and apparently, move) it out. No, they're not ashamed to be caught swaying their hips to such a song as this. Hey, if gyrating is what it takes to say a big "I love you too." to Brazil, so be it.


Will we ever love our nation so much that it makes us dance. No, I don't necessarily mean literally. Like I've said, dance is self-expression. When you see that piece of trash on the road, will you pick it up? This coming elections, are you wisely weighing who you think should lead the nation. Hey, are you even registered in the first place. When asked about where you come from, do you say "Filipino" or "Oh, I'm Asian. Is that good enough?"? Have you ever expressed to the Philippines your love and appreciation?


The Bible says everything must bear fruit. Since that's so, your love for country should manifest itself in your actions towards it. I'm not saying you should die for the nation or that you should never like anything foreign. (Please. That's called discrimination.) As I've said in the previous paragraph, loving the nation can be as simple as obeying traffic rules or helping teach kids in Sunday School, or even actually saying you're Filipino. Every little deed is a step in a grand dance of national pride.


And no, you don't necessarily have to sing it in Portuguese.

Pambihira!

Oh, I see you there. You’re bravely trying to stifle a giggle. The muscles near your mouth are now twitching from the force you demand of them trying to silence a huge guffaw threatening to escape. Well, guys, it’s no use. I already know that you find it funny. So, go ahead. You may burst out laughing now.

Oh, and if you’re chuckling right now at the title of this entry, I know now that you’re Filipino.

For those of you who have no idea what this all means, pambihira is actually an expression of annoyance in the Filipino language. This is usually uttered with rolling eyes and, at times, a head scratch or a bang on some table. Great ways to use this little word are after queuing for an hour and finding the clerk on lunch break, that car on the road splashing flood water all over your pristine, white shirt, and finding out your group mate in some project didn’t do his share…again. It’s a pretty common word so you wouldn’t really be hard pressed to find this little linguistic token.

But, well, in linguistics, meaning is derived in two forms: denotation (dictionary meaning) and connotation (its use in a particular statement or situation). As a word, we’ve only discussed the connotation of pambihira. Actually, if you look up that word in a Filipino dictionary, you’d find its definition not to be of irritation or frustration. Its denotation has nothing to do with it at all. Pambihira is actually the Tagalog word for “rare’, as in “Bawat limampung taon lamang lumalabas itong pambihirang bulalakaw.” (This rare comet only appears every fifty years.).

I really have no idea how “rare’ became “Ugh!”. My wannabe linguist brain churns out the theory that perhaps it’s because annoyed people want whatever stupidity that’s currently irritating them to be a rare instance. Perhaps, it’s the secret faith in humanity everyone has that most people are intelligent and wise and that foolishness is rare. Or maybe, it’s the opposite. Maybe it’s a little sigh that how come brains are rare. However it was derived, I kind of like this little colouring of the Filipino language amongst many.

Hey, here’s a great example of that dichotomy.

Two thousand years ago, the Lord of the Heavens and the Earth decided to step down from His throne of majesty and live as a human being. He decided to give up His unlimited power for that time and become, well, bounded as a person. Not just that, but He was pretty much arrested, tried and nailed on a cross for a crime He didn’t commit. Yes, He knew it would happen, but oh wait. He did so willingly. And for what? Well, He did all of that for a bunch of imperfect, ungrateful sinners who probably wouldn’t even willingly recognise Him.

Now, if you were His friend, would you yell “Pambihira ka naman o!”? Yeah, probably you would. And yes, many of His friends did. They thought what was happening to their dear friend was very unfair. What made it worse, though, is that He was willing to do it. Now, if that’s not worthy of a scream of “Pambihira!”, I don’t know what is.

Yet, He did it. Why? It’s pretty simple really. His love for all of those unworthy people was (and still is) pambihira --- rare. In fact, I think only He can ever give a love that powerful, that passionate. I think only He could ever give up everything He had, including his life, in order to give those He loves ---everyone --- something better.

I’d be worthy of a yell of pambihira if I don’t say thank You.

Before I Nag:Part 3

Ma cherie Danielle,

Once again, it’s me, your mother’s 22 year old self.

How have you been, my darling? Are you enjoying Mummy’s letters to you? I do hope all is well with you, my dear.

Well, in a way, I promised you I’d talk about this topic eventually in one of these little notes to you. In this letter, I’d try to do just that.

Again, I keep wondering how you’d look like now, a young woman about to blossom into who she wants to be. I wonder if you’d take after me. I wonder if you have my almond shaped, deeply-set blue-brown eyes. I wonder if your hair will flow too in thick, sable waves. I wonder if your tall, lithe body will be wrapped in coffee-coloured skin. Or, will you take after Daddy (whoever he is!)? Either way, however you’d look, there’s one thing Mum is sure of. No matter what, you are utterly lovely, my Danielle.

I know. I know. I’m your Mum. I’m required by familial ties to say that. But you know what, even without them and despite my not seeing you grow into a woman for another thirty or so year, I would still say right now, Ms. Danielle Beatrix (Insert our last name here), that you are gorgeous.

You may not believe me. I understand. I should do so, after all, there was a point in my life I thought I looked like a freak. You may not know this, but yes, your mother did once believe she was, well, utterly gross.

When I was seven years old, I imagined my twenty year old self to be, well, Keira Knightley. Of course, I didn’t know the actress then (She’d get her fame when I’m already in high school). I did however, basically covet her features --- those sparkling hazel eyes, the lovely champagne gold hair, the milky white complexion. Of course, we now know that those features are far from what I have, and little by little, it became apparent. For that, I was quite angry at myself. It didn’t help that your aunt, my older sister had exactly the mestiza features I so badly longed for. It wasn’t her fault, of course, for looking the way that she is. However, seeing her in the covers of those magazines, admittedly, made me feel like my dusky looks are not worthy of admiration.

Then, high school came with its screaming taunts. I can not count the many different names I’ve been called for, well, as mentioned in my first letter, caring more about my books than the boys. One thing’s for certain about those harsh words hurled at me: they thought I was ugly. What’s worse is I believed them once (though, it never looked like it to my friends. After all, an actress should know how to fake emotion.)

And then, one summer, I went to Australia. There, for some reason that was strange to me then, everyone stared at me. And no, unlike in my high school, it wasn’t because my hair was blocking their view of the blackboard. They were actually smiling at me. A bunch of girls came up to me to ask where I got my sun-kissed tan (to which, all I could reply was that it’s natural.). A make-up saleslady at David Jones told me she wished I could stay put for the day because my eyes seemed like the perfect canvas for the eyeshadow she was testing. There was even a man who tried to ask for my phone number at a Brisbane grocery store. In their eyes, I was gorgeous. The girl who was compared to Shiva, the destroyer (after a rowdy Asian history class) is apparently a goddess in the eyes of these Australians.

This is when I realized that beauty can come in all shapes, colours and sizes. It isn’t limited to simply that creamy skinned, flaxen-locked girl in a magazine. In fact, every single woman on this planet is lovely simply because they are, they exist, they were created with meticulous care by Him. Beauty is not just limited to the physical too. It actually radiates from the inside-out.

I guess all I’m trying to tell you, my dear, is that no matter what the world says, you are lovely. You are lovely because it’s in your human nature to be. You are lovely because of the beautiful treasures you hold inside you. You are lovely because you are, my Danielle.

And you know what? I’ll always adore you, my beautiful daughter.


With love,
Mum

Ang Mamatay Nang Dahil Sa'Yo

(In English, that would be “to die for you”)

If you’re a Filipino or have lived in these jeweled isles for quite some time now, you’d know that that is the last line of the national anthem. Yes, it’s part of that bit where your throat feels so exasperated from having to sustain all those high parts. Yes, that’s the part of the song where your lualhati starts to sound like an asthma wheeze. If not used to singing the anthem, your throat just wants to go “Make it stop! Make it stop!”


To die for you. This is what a lot of our heroes did --- die for the nation, that is. Their blood was spilt as ransom for this nation’s freedom. It was a supreme sacrifice that had them leaving whatever comfort zones they had --- whether the universities of Europe or the streets of Tondo --- to give the next generation a taste of the liberty they so felt their land deserved. They gave their lives in pursuit of freedom for the Philippines. I guess this is why that line, “Ang mamatay nang dahil sa’yo.” Is in our nation’s anthem, but is it really fair to ask this of every Filipino in this day and age?

What about our families and friends? I don’t think even the most understanding of loved ones would accept without difficulty that you sacrificed your life just to free your land. Sure, it sounds noble. Sure, people would admire you for it. But, my goodness, that sounds just impractical, radical, crazy even.

Many times, what’s right is what’s more difficult to do. Admit it. It is easier to beat that red light than to wait for minutes for the next green signal. It’s a lot less tedious to skip your suffrage responsibility altogether since, anyway, there is no assurance the polls aren’t rigged. It will make you a richer person not paying appropriate taxes and keeping your records to yourself. It’s oftentimes a sacrifice to fulfill your duties as a citizen of this country.

But, I think this is exactly what that line in our national anthem wants us to do, to do what we can for this country even if it’s harder, to put your love for others before yourself. To borrow from Christian ideology, we must “die a little to ourselves” everyday so others may live. Yes, it may hurt for a while, but seeing the nation gradually progress will make it all worth it. After all that, then, all that pain will be for a cause.

Yes, even your scratchy throat from the high note.

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Maging Sino Ka Man

Yes, blame my love for classic music. Add that to my recent curiosity over 60's-80's Tagalog (and Bisaya) ballads , and you've gotten yours truly to post this video!

This song is called "Maging Sino Ka Man" (Tagalog for "Whoever You May Be") by a famous Filipino romantic composer named Rey Valera. He apparently composed this inspired by those who work odd jobs in multi-faceted Manila or those who feel they are in a degrading line of work (Unfortunately, job prejudice is pretty apparent here.). For those curious about the lyrics, here they are in the original Tagalog (with English translations below in italics):

Ang pag-ibig ay sadyang ganyan
Love is really like that
Tiwala sa isa't-isa'y kailangan
Trust in each other is needed
Dati mong pag-ibig wala akong pakialam
Whoever you loved before, I don't really mind
Basta't mahal kita kailanpaman
I'll simply love you forever

'Wag kang mag-isip ng ano pa man
Don't you ever worry about anything
Mga paliwanag mo'y di na kailangan
Whatever explanations, I don't need it
At kahit ano pa ang iyong nakaraan
And no matter what your past wasb
Mamahalin kita maging sino ka man
I love you no matter who you are


Mahal kita, pagka't mahal kita
I love you because I love you
Iniisip nila ay hindi mahalaga
Whatever they think, it doesn't matter
Mahal kita maging sino ka man
I love you no matter who you are

Mali man ang ikaw ay ibigin ko
Loving you may be wrong
Ako'y isang bulag na umiibig sa 'yo
But I'm just a blind man in love with you
At kahit ano pa ang iyong nakaraan
And no matter what your past is
Mamahalin kita maging sino ka man
I love you no matter who you are

Nice, aye! I love how it basically shows one facet of love --- unconditionality. I love how the persona doesn't really care what his beloved's past is or who she is or whatever. All that matters to her is that he loves her. Period. And he'll continue to love her. Period.

What was that? Yes, it's a lovely, poignant song full of the magic of love, but you're hard pressed to find anyone who still loves the same way as the persona here? Times have changed, and love is now more defined in finite, fleeting terms? Perhaps.

What if I told you, though, I know Someone personally who loves that way?

Two thousand years ago, one great big expression of the words "I love you" happened on a cross in Calvary. But, if you think He did it for someone who was fully deserving of the love, think again. First of all, she didn't love Him (at least, not at the time). She was too busy to ever think of Him. And second of all, would someone so flawed, so full of mire, so imperfect ever be called worthy of such pure and perfect love He was offering? No, I don't think so.

And yet, He did it. And yes, He loved her. He loved her despite the fact that she was too loud and hyperactive. He loved her despite the fact that she was such a huge drama queen who has slight tendencies to exaggerate things. He loved her despite the fact that she has a passport with the Procrastination Nation stamped all over it.

He loved her (and still does) no matter who she is. And she is, or should I say I am, grateful for that!

Of Otap and Obsession

Yes, that'd be the seventh part of my "Allie's 22 Things I Learnt Before 22" (which, I'm afraid will probably not reach 1 February. Oh well, there's the "Now That I'm 22" plan!). This one discusses my sort of explanation on my cultural obsession. Yes, it's rather incoherent! Hahaha!

Watch Me!

Not really a blog per se, but I just had to share this!

It's called "Stranger in Her Own City", a short film by Khadija Al-Salami. It tells the story of a young Yemeni girl who refuses to conform to her society's rigid ideas of what a woman is supposed to be.

I seriously must commend Najmia for showing exceptional courage despite her young age! Seriously, many adults don't have the courage she as an adolescent possesses. She really must be applauded!