Tuesday, June 12

On being free - The Confessions of an Insom{a}niac XVI

My Coconut Republic is celebrating its 109th year of independence.

Or so they say...

Historians are at odds and ends when it comes to the true Declaration of Independence. Some say it was earlier, as early as 1521 when the island natives decided to really fight for their right to rock and roll. Others say it was during 1896 when the Katipunan Revolution {led by Andres Bonifacio} began. Still, some say it was 5 decades after the Katipunan Revolution when the Philippines came out of the Commonwealth and became a Republic. There are some critics though who say that country {and the rest of the so-called "Third World"} has not yet achieved true independence. Putting historicity and semantics aside, June 12 is my country's Independence Day, like it or not. And to be honest, I couldn't care less.

I was never the anthem-singing, heart-thumping, flag-bearing kind. Maybe back when I was two feet tall, yes; but now it seems I have lost any sort of patriotism {if you could call it that} in my bone. I have, what you would call a jaded sense of love for my country. I may not be patriotic in that sense but that doesn't mean I do not feel for my birth soil. Fuck, that's why I even have a name for my country {yes, it's not just because I love coconuts and palm trees}. I may not be a patriot but I am a fucking romantic. And romance, in the truest sense of the word, is never and will never be outdated, and it will never be overshadowed by anything less.

Patriotism has become mere lip service or worse, an expensive blowjob that doesn't deliver. Left and right you'll hear declarations of love and valor for the motherland / fatherland / disneyland / lalaland but there is never a fruition of words. Only words - void of meaning, yet so full of semantic cow dung. Funny that Christianity believed in the Incarnation of the Son of {wo}Man - the Word becoming Flesh and dwelling among peoplekind. No wonder my country is losing faith. There is no proof of words becoming flesh with the people on top of the foodchain. Or maybe there is{? which I soooooo doubt} but we just couldn't see it from the vantage point of living with less than 5 dollars a day and with ramen noodles+rice combo whole day meal. Expensive or not, it's useless when you give fellatio to someone with an empty stomach. I may never be the anthem-singing, heart-thumping and flag-bearing kind, but I sure as hell know that my words do mean something and I should be responsible for it.

I have digressed from the topic. I guess I still am a patriot, a jaded one at that but nonetheless a patriot {or maybe its just my empty stomach doing the thingking}.

Come to think of it, what is my topic? {somebody needs a refresher course on Writing 101}. Oh yes, freedom. George Michael sang that song when I still weighed a hundred pounds and he's still singing that song all the way to community service. A rich hotel heiress {that will not be named on this blog for the sake of peoplekind} would so love to sing that song right now. She may have gone back behind bars to complete her sentence just so that the people behind the justice system can prove to the world that there are no excemptions under the law. Good news is she isn't free. Bad news is - then again, neither are we.

Being free these days is like men having multiple orgasms. It is elusive if not a total hoax, a sort of propaganda spread during the Cold War. Say me, for example. I say I am free but I am bound by so many things - by ideas, by people, by institutions, by belief systems, by economies, by money, by power, by pop stars and rock stars, by tv, by internet, by Bill Gates and SteveJobs, by clothing or the lack of it, by sex {or the lack thereof}, by excess or by depravity, by hunger, by trying to fit in a size 6, by yada yada yada yada yada yada fuckingyada.

Funny that some of us {if not most of us} go to great lengths to uphold the virtues of truth and
freedom and even beauty and love. So much so that we tend to forget their meaning or what they used to mean to us. We forgot that they were there all along. We forgot that we were once truthful and beautiful and loving and free.

It is sad to admit {even embarassing on my part} that I have become so jaded of life that I forgot its heart. I have to remind myself with every heartbeat that I can never truly be free unless I realize that - I am already free - true freedom is a state of mind. I may have lost that idea, but perhaps I can find it again. Perhaps. I am after all a romantic, and my curse is never to lose hope, and to find the true beauty in beings and things and to love the universe, naked and all embracing.





many thanks to Boo for letting me use the vid



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