Authencity is the best form of beauty

With all the perceptions of beauty, talent, intellect, and stuff that make people admirable, I am deeply concerned about people who are being shaken by the "What's-up" and the "What's-cool" stuff that they tend to prefer trendiness over authenticity. Everyone wants to be liked.

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What makes a person beautiful? What makes a person smart? What makes a person talented? What makes a person admirable? If I have every single human in this planet answer these questions, surely, I'd get tons of perceptions and opinions which are totally irrelevant to determining a person's worth. And if in that case, they're all gonna be irrelevant then why should I still ask? Just to prove that there's no such thing as stan...dards!!! a phenomenon I'm so annoyed with. People who know me deeply would understand that I perceive standards as completely destructive lists that tend to summon people to try to become who they are not (if someone could just hear the snappiness of my tone, they would know how this is suffocating for me). My desire is for people to understand their worth apart from other people's judgments.

Authenticity is beautiful. For the record, it is not just a cliche statement people have used to comfort people who are perceived not to have it all, it is true and man... it is just true. I've never seen anyone who is just being his/her true self ugly, no matter who they are or where they coming from. I actually find it brave and beautiful. It makes me appreciate the diversity among humans, and the preciousness of each one. I find it uglier (sorry for the word, but) when people try to be who they're not. It makes me puke, it makes me want to go on life coaching them.

Preach, Skate, preach. Hear ya. But seriously, I know I am imperfect and most times I have this little pot of envy boiling within me towards other people who seem to have it all, but then I look back to how I was crafted and I realize that it is vanity and to futility to try to be like someone else because I am from a completely different makeup, with completely different gifts, social circles, upbringing, and all these that piece our identity. Trying to fit in to the point of conforming is a fruit of wanting to be desired, it is ego at work.

It is not sheer incompetence that people copy other people and plagiarize other people's crafts, it is from a high level of insecurity that people try to come up with the same stuff other people already came up with. It is a declaration that they don't know who they are or what they can do, they just end up going through the same thing other people have already done--thinking they would be liked better using other people's intellect under their names.

It is not merely jealousy that people try to beautify themselves the way the society thinks people should be beautiful, it is a mixture of the lack of knowledge about one's personal identity and the lack of confidence on who they really are. Things which if I try to tie up, I would not get to the end of.

Getting admiration and affection from someone is a great thing. It is among our many human needs. But we don't need everyone's approval to fill in that need. What is the difference of getting the greater mass's approval from getting only a handful's, but whose thoughts for the authentic you are authentic feelings--which most likely will last? Big. Sure, it's fun to get all the other people notice and praise you, but at the end of the day, you're replaceable with all the other clones that the society's standards produced. Compare it to being liked by very few people whose affections are deeper and truer, this is definitely priceless. It's the fact of being loved and being found with a worth when you least expect it, when you're in your rawest.

They say there's no new thing under the sun, and how's that? I'm not saying you try to come up with something new. Originality doesn't equate to authenticity. Authenticity is being who you truly are. And there might be others who are like you, and it doesn't mean that you're imitating them just because you ended up with the same interests and style. I'm just saying for you to live according to who you really are. And it's beautiful if we all just stop caring (because sadly, some people will continue judging), but practice the beauty and fearfulness of our inner to outer selves.

I hope all the women in the world would just be confident in their own skin. Because we are all beautiful, we are all loved, and we have a great capacity to love. Also sending this to the guys out there, you are all beautiful and lovely.

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A March Monday

I woke up to the sound of footsteps and busy conversations about. I tried to sleep another few hours away, but my dozy and hazy imagination brought me to the days and weeks ahead... there's so much needed to be done. I grabbed my phone from my brother's table--recently, I've been camping in my brother's room since he's too busy studying to even sleep--and saw that it's almost 9 in the morning. I sighed, I want more sleep. And then, I realized I've been slacking the past hours away because I was sick yesterday. I felt that I'm much better, and so I need to recover from the laziness my sickness caused me.

Exciting weeks are about to come! YAY. I have to get this day moving or I'm gonna be stuck during the time when I'm supposed to be having another set of adventures in my life (I'm talking about the first few days of April because it's gonna be really "yaaay"). I posted something on Twitter on how the weeks are gonna be real long and exciting and greeted the people a good Monday morning. 

I pulled myself up and went down and greeted my mom a very jolly morning. I realized the house was in grrrreat chaos, I started to place some stuff into order. My mom asked me to go buy something from the sari-sari store, and I reluctantly obeyed. 

While I was in the store, I overheard old women selling vegetables nearby talk. 

"Mahal na araw, umuulan."

"Oo nga eh, sabi ko nga... umuulan eh mahal na araw. Kakaiba. Abnormal." (short pause) "Parang mga tao ngayon, abnormal."

I wanted to take a shot of those women talking and caption it, "Old Women in Tondo During a Monday Morning". But I didn't have a device with me. 

I turned my way home, and I saw other people going on their own businesses. The scene is like any other morning: children playing, basketballs bouncing, old and young men talking, old and young women talking, people yelling, a little rain pouring... another morning in Tondo. 

I contemplated my life a little, I hoped I could pause and do some small talk with the neighbors (something I've never done in the entirety of my life in this place), I hoped I could run the way I used to during summers. I hoped I could just continue on letting the hours pass by, and just watch the rain confuse women. 

But I know that even if I were given the chance to do so, I cannot indulge myself to the slow and stationary living I dream of. My heart has been wired for action and displacement, that I cannot be still. And so, I went home and prepared for the day, listed down all the things I need to accomplish, and blogged these thoughts out. Now, in a little while, I'll be on the road again.

March Nostalgia

This time of the year reminds me of a lot of things. Through the years, the month of March, especially its latter part, reminds me of games, trees, children, and everything else that revolves around childhood. I spent my childhood summers in Pangasinan, and as we were growing up, I noticed that we don't go there as much as we did before.

During my younger years, everytime March comes I'd be very excited because I know that classes are going to end + we are gonna be on vacation + we are traveling to a wonderful place we spend little time in. Now, that I am 19, in college, and summer doesn't mean vacation at all, I feel mixed feelings towards March: the sameness of the excitement, and that sad feeling that I wouldn't be back there in my childhood anymore.

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Because of the intoxicating atmosphere of being in the university, most of the time, we students wish that it'd end already so that we can unwind for a while, take off, and just chill out. Of course, I feel that way now. But having this semester end doesn't mean I'd be spending vacation at all, there'd be a lot other stuff to take care of, like applying for my internship, spending time with people, then the internship itself.

I can't believe how smoothly the seasons changed, that without us realizing them, we are already distant from where we once have been. I can't believe that the smell of childhood is now just a memory and not an experience anymore. Oh well, I've accepted this now. Though childhood was wonderful, I'm happy that I've once had it, and I'm happy that I'm already over it, too. At least, I'm able to experience more of the world, and I'm glad that I can associate Summer with a lot of other things than vacation and games. I'm also glad that I have good memories to ponder upon every now and then. I may crave for them, but I know they helped me become this curious wanderer I am today.