What about Love?

I was on a jeep goin to work yesterday when the song “What about Love” blared on the radio. I have heard this song numerous times before now but I never really listened to it until earlier.
What about love? It’s probably the most overused and overstated word in the dictionary. There are far too many definitions, explanations and interpretations of it from people of different walks of life from a scientific view, a cultural view and a religious view.

The person who invented this word must me laughing his/her/their head off wherever he/she/they maybe, be it in heaven, hell or somewhere in between because his/her/their probably simple meaning of love became all this complicated. For all we know, whoever came up with this word may not even mean it the way we want it to mean.

Yet even with all this information, we still cannot capture its true essence. So what about it?
Love. We kill for it and because of it. We die for it and because of it. We cry, laugh, rejoice, share, and go the distance to get it, to feel it, to have it, to keep it.

I met someone, we shared a connection. Three months after, we moved in together. After 5 years, she ended it. She said she doesn’t love me the same way anymore.

So what about love? You tell me.

I love the song but I hate the feeling that surfaces when I hear it.

for you to answer..

Is love simply a feeling, an emotion? Emotions are but momentary projections of the psyche - unsure and unreliable, fleeting like a candle-flame, shifting like the sand on the shore. Emotions are too abstract, too vague, sometimes even misleading (that it isn’t a wonder why a rocket scientist would never make a rational conclusion on a mere “feeling”). Am I to believe that THAT is all love is – a temporary projection of the mind? Besides, if it were just the feeling that men and women are after, then why aren’t love-hungry individuals satisfied by simply upping their endorphin levels by wolfing down heaps of chocolate? If love were just a “feeling”, then it is an absolute stupidity to make an important decision (or a lifelong commitment, at that) based on something so unstable. What happens when the endorphins take a leave? Is love gone when the sparkling feelings wane? Something so valued and sought-after as love shouldn’t be as ephemeral as an orange popsicle.

For that matter, why is love so desired?

Spent a day in prison

Last week was an average week for me.. didn’t do anything much...but last Saturday was so different..my Father-in-law asked me a week ago if I could come with him to the National Bilibid Prison and I said yes without thinking..i just thought that it’ll be a good experience and I would really want to see the prison.. but Saturday morning I woke up and felt that im starting to get scared.. I was thinking what if a riot or a man desperate to get out held us and kill us.. yay!! I was the youngest of the group all are old..lol anyway on the way there we were laughing coz of the conversation of my dad and his friend.. I had a great time.. I was laughing hard.. didn’t talk much..i just listened to them.. then when we got there.. it was about quarter before nine.. it was hot.. we walked a few meters to the guard house to sign our waver and get checked in…I left my fone and the spare guitar string coz its not allowed inside..they asked us that we only bring not more than a thousand pesos inside..good for me..only have 400. and some few change.hehehehe..ok the guard checked my guitar and shaked the hell out of it..after that he checked me.. then he let me pass... a second guard was checking things again…called us one by one then stamped something on my arm then asked me if the guitar was cleared by the first guard and I said yes..

While I was walking towards the gate.. I was fixing my things then suddenly I felt that no one was beside me.. I said HOLY S$%^^%#!! I was walking towards the gate alone!!.. and it is the MAXIMUM SECURITY!!! where the murderers, rapist, arsonist and all the things that nightmare’s are made of..well atleast my nightmare.. I was walking slowly into the gate.. I just prayed the whole time and I just saw blurred faces..i knew everybody was looking at me.. I think there where a dozen prisoners sitting beside the gate.. and one guy standing, he was holding a big stick.. he was scary.. I only saw his tattoos and his orange shirt.. I couldn’t even look at their faces.. I wish I could but I was too damn scared…. I felt I was a kid.. want to run away but I know I cant be harm…and then something happened.. I was so surprised..a skinny guy walked beside me with a smile on his face carrying a plastic bag with something in it I think it was a loaf of bread ..wearin the same orange shirt, also with tattoos.. I thought he’ll punch me or asked me for a cigarette...but he asked me if im ok and asked if he could carry my guitar....then I just smiled and asked him to walked beside me.. honestly I really felt safe that time..i felt safe with a person who murdered a human being and was sentenced to die..my mind was blank.. while this guy was tryin to tell me his story.. telling me his life.. I was just looking down..I wish I listened but I didn’t..the only thing I did was to asked his name and asked the reason why he is inside…

ARIEL.. that’s his name.. couldn’t remember his face though…but his smile was different..i haven’t seen someone smile that way..well beside that hes missing four front teeth..i think he was happy to see me.mmmm..he walked with me until we got to the school.. an old building. Rusty roof... it was so hot.. Windows with bars.. a blackboard… posters of animals and dead presidents… the alphabet is pasted above the board..its like a grade school class room…but this time I saw faces.. faces that would smile..staring at you with blank faces.. no emotions…not even hatred.. felt weird at first coz you know someone is starring at you….we setup and started to sing.. dad played the guitar.. thank God.. coz I know I cant play in that situation coz I was terrified and anxious coz we're in a contained room.. i haven’t seen any armed guards and the room is filled with prisoners.. nearly hundred detainees of the maximum security.. so we sung praise songs and after that we sat at the corner of the room.. had a good view of the people inside.. now I started looking at them.. Looking at their faces while listening to someone preaching.. the talk was about an hour or so but they listened without getting sleepy or what.. they just sat there.. listening.. sometimes they laugh at the joke of the speaker..when I heard their laugh I started to get comfortable..Some were wearing shorts, some are wearing Sunday clothes but they are faded or haven’t been washed with soap for a long time.. i saw a man wearing a pair of faded leather shoes with holes..i could see his socks from the soles of his shoes.. he talked to me.. he also told me his story. .but I couldn’t understand coz he was talking like he was whispering.. but I tried my best to listen.. he told me that it was his second time to be in prison.. he killed someone.. he jokingly told me that the first time he got out of prison, his wife got married a day before he was released.. after that he gave me a letter asking me if I could send it to his mother.. then I said yes.. he shook my hand and said thank you..i was having second thought if I’m allowed to do that.. but I want to help him so I decided to keep his mail and send it..i really felt God’s presence.. i didn’t felt that im helping them to see and to know Jesus Christ as their savior but their the ones who’s helping me to see God more clearly.. to see my blessings.. to see my life is full of things that I’ve been neglecting all my life…like Ariel, the guy who walked with me..

After the Christian Life Program he went to me and gave me a piece of paper.. then I read what was written on it..” toothpaste, toothbrush and soap” I was so surprise.. i asked what am I gonna do with this.. he asked me for some change for him to buy this things.. i wasn’t surprise that he was asking for money but I was surprise coz he doesn’t have this things. me and my wife have 5 toothbrushes(WEIRD) and lots of shampoos and soaps in our home. I said ok but I asked him if I can give him the money at the gate coz many prisoner went to us coz they saw us buying stuff.. anyway after that the organizers of the CLP thank us and we prayed before going out.. we went through the same way as we did.. but the prisoners are now at their cell.. its 12:00 pm.. lunch time.. Ariel is still walking with me.. now he’s trying to show me the place.. he was happy bein my personal tour guide.. he told me that there’s a place where inmates playing basketball but they don’t have any ball.. I said HUH?? Then he laugh.. I know that there’s air guitar but air basketball? It's true they even have a referee..he said.. Their the ones who suffered a mental collapsed or breakdown.. People who started talking to themselves.. People who got their freedom for having their own world.. Ariel pointed to a building and told it’s the Death row building.... all inmates there are sentenced to die of lethal injection.. a large blue building. I think it’s a two-story building with TV antennas sticking out. Weird. Anyway before we got to the gate I shook Ariel’s hand with the money in my hand and I thank him. I felt relieve, sad, happy, miss my wife and felt so much bless by God coz I know I can go out from that hell, eat a descent lunch.. Take a bath anytime using soap.. But that hell thought me to be thankful for the little things I have. It helped me realized that life moves on even we don’t have money in our pocket.. Life moves on even we have problems at work.. Or even we don’t have any work.. From that hell I saw God.. Or even the devil himself.. But God’s grace is surely there that time.. I felt his presence in the company of murderers, rapist and the people who is just waiting to be executed for their crimes.

You have never really lived until you've done something for someone who can never repay you.

coping

so, at the moment of quiet i erase all these thoughts and hope that should i put them to words that i be understood...that this is how i cope...this is how i could learn to accept...that quiet is not the enemy...it is not a stranger...it is not a traitor...but is a guiding friend..

hurting

the thought of being unwanted, unneeded and inadequate pushes against my chest like i've been shot...i visualize myself literally falling from the shot, not feeling the gunwound but certain that these are my last moments on earth...i visualize myself with questioning eyes..

this is my soul.. and for sadness will be shown..

most of us need the eggs.

I thought of that old joke, you know, this, this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, Doc, uh, my brother's crazy, he thinks he's a chicken and, uh, the doctor says, well why don't you turn him in? And the guy says, I would, but I need the eggs. Well, I guess that's pretty much how I feel about relationships. You know, they're totally irrational and crazy and absurd and, but uh, I guess we keep going through it... because... most of us need the eggs.