The Revenge of the Geeks

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Which Side Are You On?

I just watched the midnight premiere screening of Captain America: Civil War. This is not a review. But, let me tell you. Before that, I just came home from a 16-hour flight. I was awake for more than 24 hours before that. On top of that, I was sleeping at the couch of the local CBTL while waiting for the cinema doors to open.

There was not one dull moment. My eyes were glued to the screen and my heart was doing somersaults. I went home after and I could not get it out of my head.

In short, if you have not watched it yet then go take a hint and please do.

Again, this is not a Civil War review. As I was saying I while ago, I did some late night, post-adrenaline thinking at four in the mourning with my plans on getting back on some shut eye too far from reach.

This is what I thought about then.

I may have made the connotation that Civil War is a great movie. (Honestly, why are you still reading this? Go watch it!) So, a group of exquisitely talented people made that movie possible. This group was funded by a company composed of people who believed in their concept. This company is inspired by the colorful literature that the movie was based upon. (Read it. Seriously. Oh and bring some tissues with you when you do.)

I just thought of what kind of people were they when they were younger. Who were they when they did not have these fancy job titles connected to their names? I just thought. They were geeks.

They were the ones described in cartoons as the kids wearing those thick-rimmed glasses. They were the ones with braces. They were the ones wearing ridiculously pristinely ironed clothes. They were the ones who knows the subject matter better than the teacher. They were the ones who live in their parent’s basement because he spends more time there in front of the computer or the train set than anywhere else in the house. They were the ones being locked inside their own lockers. They were the ones secluded by the group. They were the ones being bullied.

I always say to my friends that this is a great era to be a nerd or a geek or whatever you choose to describe yourself if you relate to this on a personal level. All this awesome popcorn movies, all the amazing technology, all the advancements could not be possible if it were not for those former youngsters who get more wedgies than kisses.

This era is the revenge. I always say that kids nowadays are lucky because smart has become the new sexy (finally). Proclaim that you are a fan of Harry Potter or of Marvel or of Game of Thrones and you will receive appraisal and you would even be more than glad to find a group that shares the same interest as you. Do that in my time and you would have received weird looks and no hope to find your kind.

Yes, this is the revenge of the geeks. This is their superhero story wherein they rise from the turmoil that came with growing up in such condition. They used their abilities to save people and to promote the greater good. They have saved future generations of geeks from experiencing the same fate as what they had experienced. They promoted acceptance and unity everywhere.

I raise my glass/goblet/mug/flute/horn (just choose depending on your fandom) to the geeks. For without them, there will be no Microsoft. There will be no Apple. There will be no Facebook. There will be no Naruto. There will be no Marvel. There will be no hoverboards. There will be no Internet.

So, if you are being shunned and excluded because you are passionate about something that is not the norm of your environment then have patience, work hard and do not fear. Your revenge will come.

May I Feel Said He

This poem is my absolute favorite.
Simple words and simple rhymes created by E.E. Cummings to portray a compelling love story. I first read it within the The Love Book application and then I instantly fell in love with how it was written and my heart broke at the same time by the meaning within those words.

Below is my answer to that poem. Enjoy and please do tell me what you think!

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My answer to E.E. Cumming's poem.

The Definition of Love

Happy Valentine’s Day, lovelies! The Day of Hearts.

Ah, love. That fuzzy feeling when you see your beloved walk by. That butterfly buzzing in your stomach when you feel that kiss coming close. That warmth that devours your whole body after just being held by two hands. Beautiful, isn’t it?

We all know what love is. Even a five-year-old does. My own definition of love is similiar to how Plato would define it in his Symposium. Love is the pursuit of beauty and wisdom. Love is an acronym, actually. (Yeah, I’m going to stick with this. Prepare to be amused.)

L
Learning to desire your whole self.

Don’t you dream waking up every morning and looking at yourself in the mirror and just say ‘Hello, beautiful’ to your reflection? Except, you have that large zit on your forehead. Except that you have that scar that you got from that accident back when you were 13. Except that you have crooked teeth. Except you have that large mole. Except you have that disaligned eye. Except you have those pudgy cheeks. Except you have that slab of skin on the side of your head that is the closest thing that you have to an ear. And that is only your face.

How depressing is that? No wonder you are not a morning person. And you see the folks on TV have perfect faces and bodies. Life is just not fair.

Guess what? No, sorry. Never will life be fair. But it will get better. Look at the mirror again. Look, such long lashes. See those bushy brows that have not need for eyebrow kits? Make-up savings! See that large mole? Look how it leads the eyes to look at your lips. Aren’t you so kissable? Cheeks, smeeks. Did you look at your nose? So cute! Did you get a good look at your eyes lately? Browns, speckled with orange dots and gray lines if you look close enough. Brown that melts whenever your laugh lines show up as you crack that winning smile. Ooh, such a nice tan. Most would covet and achieve that only to grab a high dosage of sunburn. Saw that? Ah, beautiful. And that is only your face.

Learning to accept yourself fully is essential to love. Like I said, life is not fair. Don’t expect it to be. You will have flaws. Sometimes, more visible than others. But, that makes us human. Love is looking for the beauty in things. According to the Scriptures, loving another is parallel to loving oneself. Treat yourself poorly and expect that you will do the same to others. Then again, how can you possibly love yourself if you are three sizes larger than the norm?

To love oneself is a matter of choice. Those flaws are a part of you. Deal with it. Or do something about it. There are liposuction, breast enlargement, nose lift, and many other treatments that you can choose from. Personally, don’t. Change something about your appearance is exactly the same is having someone change something about themselves. Ask your lover to quit their videogaming as if it is quintessential to your love life is exactly the same as having a cosmetic surgery so that you will feel more beautiful. It is unfair. So, does that mean if your lover refuses to ditch the gaming then you will stop loving him? So if you don’t get that nose lift means that you would not find yourself pretty enough? What kind of love is that?

There is nothing wrong with enhancement. Just, try not to change anything that you were born with unless it will affect your health if not dealt with. Go on, say ‘Hey, Beautiful.’

O
Openly seek more about another

Remember when you are attracted to someone and you want to know everything that is to know about them? Likes. Dislikes. Family. Aspirations. Mistakes. Goals. Dreams. Hobbies. Passions. Interests. That is you seeking more of the beauty that you initially saw in that person. That is you seeking more of the wisdom or of what is more to be learned from him. Remember that feeling of being interested in everything that he was trying to say? How thick should a proper stilleto be? What codes should you use when you want to win Warcraft? Why those kind of ties are better than the others? Why that player is the underdog?

Honestly, would you freaking care if another person told you those things? Yet, with that person, it sounded important. It sounded like it mattered. It did matter. To you. To that person. Hallelujah.

With love, normally trivial things sound so beautiful and so important. That story about her being denied the chance to compete? Now, you know why she is so determined. That time when he told you how rude his customers were to him as he served them? No wonder he is so polite. Each story that is being uttered becomes a puzzle piece to his person. You pick up the pieces and fit it in the frame, smiling to yourself as you do. And you find yourself in front of a complete picture full of different pieces. And you found it astoundingly beautiful. And you found yourself pleasantly wiser and fuller as well.

V
Value the moment

There is this one quote in the movie Jupiter Ascending that I find more true than any other movie quote that I have ever heard. The only commodity that really matters is time.

Once it passes, it is gone. And we can only breathe for so long. Relish the present. Look around. Sniff the air. Stare into his eyes. Memorize that smile. Once that moment passes, it is gone and you just have to beg for your memory to retain it. That is what makes love for each person so unique. It is the memories that formed in the relationship. The memories are the differentiation between love for your parents to romantic love.

It is a discipline for most to be mindful of the present. It is an even more difficult discipline to find the positive and the beautiful in every moment even if it is a bad one. The both of you are shouting your mouths off? Hey, he cares enough to be angry. Be afraid of the day that he does not react when you do a mistake. He is sick and your date is cancelled? Guess what, grab that opportunity and bring some soup over and a movie too. Or maybe a video game. Make him better and make him happy. Aren’t you a sweetie?

E
Evolve

Love changes everything. The hard becomes soft. The soft becomes hard. The weak becomes strong. The strong becomes weak. To be in love is to accept that you are changing. You are changing for the better. You are evolving. You are preparing to accommodate more love and to give more love as well.

They say that girls bloom when they are in love. The boys exude more confidence and strength when in love. Love gives motivation a whole new meaning. Love lifts you up. Love makes you do incredible things. You can lift ten thousand men. You can fly around the world. You can beat Superman in armwrestling.

So, love is this incredible drug that makes you evolve and become better faster than any kind of steroid ever can. Love is the search of beauty and wisdom. Once you see it, you consume it until you find yourself beautiful and wise. Once you find love, in yourself and/or in others, you find yourself smiling at your reflection despite having that lump of morning glory clogged at the inner corner of your eye.

That is love. Beautiful and wise.
Now, if you decide to become a lover then you might as well learn the last letter.

R
Relationship Reciprocal

In the English language, adding an -r/-er to a verb makes it a noun that is defined as a doers of the original verb. So, a lover is a doer of love.

So, to be a lover, you need to reciprocate the love that you receive. Hello, congratulations, you are in a relationship. You give. You take. Because, if you do not then you are not a lover. You are just a recipient. A lovee, if there is such a term. And honestly, it will be tragic. No true love is unrequitedly in vain.

Love. Such a beautiful word. Lover. A more beautiful word. Are you in love? Would it be nice if we all were? Not just with someone. But with ourselves as well.

Happy Valentine’s Day to all! Tell me your thoughts. What are your ideas about love?

The Definition of Passion

‘Passion’ is my favorite word in the English language.

I won’t cite a Webster definition. You all know what passion means. So, why am I writing a post about the meaning of passion? Blame CBTL for that. I read a passage from my 2016 journal and there came the thought.

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I fell in love with the word when I was still a college student. Mix intelligence with angst and put a dash of smart mouth and you get yourself a teen that defends everything that he or she thinks was right. That was basically me.

I would prove my point in debates with others to the extent that I sound angry. I would always excuse myself and say that I was not angry and was just passionate about the idea. It was not that I was forcing people to believe me and support my cause. I was more in the context of making them understand what I was coming from.

I pride myself in having a strong set of morals. I cannot be bought easily. I  try my utmost to keep my promises and admit my failure if I did otherwise. I do things on my own. I keep quiet about my achievements. I do not gossip. Do not waste. Family comes first. Those are my unbreakables.

I recall a time when my Management professor asked me if I would seal a deal with a potential business partner which will greatly benefit my business in the long run if I change things according to what they wanted. I remember answering that if it does not stand with my business ethics and morals then I would agree. I was then questioned for sacrificing the sake of my business for a set of morals. I stood my ground. I told him that I would not be bought that easily and I would not sacrifice my loyalties. He called me too young and too idealistic. I was bound to change my mind when I get older and when I get to see how the real world outside the classroom works.

Four years later, I saw how ugly business life could be. I saw what the real world outside the classroom was like. My answer still does not change. Call me too young and too idealistic all you want. I call myself passionate.

I had a male friend who would translate the Filipino word ‘malibog’ into ‘passionate’. As much as I deny to admit, it made some sense but being passionate is more than that. FYI, ‘malibog’ means being erotically-inclined e.g. spilling out green jokes, being all touchy and grope-y, have an interest in anything sexually related blah blah blah.

There is a reason after all why most authors would describe erotic scenes with phrases like ‘and they fell into their incessant passion, a mix of sweat and gasps muffled by flesh and sheets.’ (my words, btw. It is just an example.) Passion is the subject wherein all logic is lost and wherein sense and instinct come in. Obviously, the connection is there.

For me, passion is more. It is so much more. Being passionate comprises the entirety of one’s being. Be passionate about something and all logic flies out of the window. You don’t realize that it happens until your logic comes back through the door and collides with you like a punch to the brain. Yeap, not the skull, the brain.

Ever felt about something so strong that you would do your utmost to keep it and protect it?  Ever felt that your purpose was finally discovered and you would be damned if you just ignore it and walk on as if nothing happened? Ever felt the realization that you would be sacrificing much for something and yet you do it anyway? Ever felt so strongly for something that you would make sure that you achieve it or see your goal accomplished no matter what?

This is not only about love. This is not only about hate. Remember the thin line between those two? That thin line is called passion. Love someone so much that one mistake can send you plummeting back onto solid ground with nothing but resentment. Hate someone so much that you will do much to destroy that person and make sure he is yours. The thin line is a dangerous thing. Cross over and all you know disappears. Things like this can only be found in stories. But is it not reality a story?

Passion keeps you driving to your destination. Passion fuels your body to continue to work. Passion is that nagging feeling that burns in your gut when you do otherwise.

Being passionate is losing regard of your rationality and just relying on your instinct. Once it knows what it wants, it hires rationality back in to help him do its dirty work which is to keep you moving.

I barely make any sense. As I reread this post, I could easily see how my thoughts are scrambled as I try to say everything at once. I guess that is what passion does. It tries everything to get you across.

Passion is my favorite word because it describes me as a person. My pride has saved me countless of times wherein I would make wise and firm decisions just because ‘my pride would not allow myself to do it otherwise’. This is not ‘sin’ pride. This is ‘moral’ pride. It is the offspring of my passion and my sense of morality. Good with a pinch of danger. I sound like a misguided comic book hero.

Once I believe, my intentions would not falter. I would fight to the end. That is passion.

Inspiration and The Lack Thereof

I know that I have not been writing in awhile. I don’t know what I should write. I don’t know about anything worth writing. I wanted to write about my thoughts but I thought that it might sound childish if all I did was talk about myself. I wanted to write about my travel experiences as I did notice that travel blogs are the new thing. I might get a lot of readers. Then again, I don’t know how to execute. I wanted to write about life but I did not want to sound so depressing.

I went to work yesterday. I had to work with a fellow attendant who is a good friend of mine. She and I had a lot in common. She also has her own blog. Go check it out. It is not your typical lifestyle and travel blog. If my writing  has any worth to anyone out there then go on ahead and thank her. She was one of my motivation to start writing again which resulted in this blog.

Anyway, we talked about our common love (I refuse to call it as obsession) for Harry Potter. Besides that, the topic steered towards our life and work relationships. Then, it, in my opinion, brought us closer as friends. I envy her a bit before to be honest. She was just this free and uncaring thing that would make me look at myself and realize how controlled I was as a person. But then again, if she could do it then why can’t I? That is because I have people to protect and prioritize first.

This C.A. Villeta alter ego is already a stretch for me. My dear friend, if you are reading this, I beg of you not to reveal my true identity. I can’t handle that yet. Call me a coward but that is it. Talk about being a Gryffindor.

Anyway, I wanted to continue this blog. I really do. So, I started to interview her on how she did it. I did learn a lot. The most striking part of our conversation was as follows…

Her: How is life?
Me: Boring.
Her: That is not possible because you are not a boring person. (That was honestly the sweetest thing that anyone had said to me in a long time.)
Me: Then how would you call it?
Her: Uneventful
Me: So I am an uneventful? Is that not the same thing as boring?
Her: Not uneventful. I would say that not much things happen in your life.
Me: Same thing.
Her: ‘Uneventful’ is not really an appropriate adjective to describe a person.
*We started laughing*
Me: How do you do it? How do you come up with things to write about?
Her: When life happens then I blog.
Me: Then I must be so boring.

Then she talks about how she started her blog. I had to cut her off because I knew how. I knew what her social media posts meant. She told me all of it before. She forgot, apparently. Yet, silly me forgot the actual name of her blog when it was so painstakingly obvious. She talked about her experiences with whatever it was that was the closest that she could do in matters of blog promotion. She also talked about her most successful series, Single Girl Diaries.

I did not tell her that I write a blog as well. Part of me was embarrassed because I have been doing a foul job at it. Part of me was still clinging to the self-preservation that no one must know my true identity. And here I am talking about being myself. I am such a hypocrite. Then again, I am a big mess of contradictions. I recently posted a true life short story on Medium and I sent the link to the person in question. Now, I am writing this and throwing my shield up for her to know who I am. What a mess.

So, main point is I am writing again. Hopefully for the long haul. When life happens then she blogs. I guess I was looking for some majestic breakthrough in mine so that I could have the motivation to write again. That conversation must be it.

How will I do it? How will I come up with things to write about?
I have not the slightest idea.
For now, I will just write.
I will write even if it is just gibberish like this post right here.
I will write until I write something that matters.
I will write until the gibberish matters.
I hope.

It feels good to type again, to be honest.
To my dear friend, thank you. And yes, I think you are right. You should write more. There are people counting on your work. Count me as one of them.