My boss couldn’t help it. She messaged us on MS Teams, flabbergasted, after reading the news that boxer Manny Pacquiao is running for president next year. And other clowns like Panfilo Lacson and Tito Sotto are also vying for the president and vice president seats. Then here comes wishy-washy opportunist Manila Mayor Isko Moreno and this Willy Ong (where did he come from???) announcing their candidacy yesterday.
Isko’s announcement crumbles the idea of a united opposition. I guess he is another weapon by the Marcoses so the opposition under Leni Robredo’s banner–if she decides to run for presidency–would be broken. He is, after all, a politcal butterfly. Isko knows he doesn’t have the machinery to win but if he is under the good graces of the Marcoses, his future by 2028 would be assured if Bongbong–God forbid!–wins next year.
And Duterte is running for VP, without a president yet, so he will be assured that graft cases and ICC human rights cases would not be heaped upon him if an ally wins the presidency.
How do we solve this problem of ever worsening politics in this country? Everyone should probably read the Pedagogy of the Oppressed, so the intelligentsia would understand that we are not the ones who should be teaching the masses but rather we join them in learning how to get out of this oppression through their own experiences and social construct. I first learned about this during my theater + activism years, when we have “teach-ins” and when I attended classes for community theater. It’s not easy; it would take a revolution to change all this. (And I now sound exactly like my father!)
I don’t know how we would end this rotten system.
Meanwhile, I’ve been getting better but I easily get tired. Today is the first time in two weeks I went out of my room to take a shower and do my bathroom business at day time. I had ordered a new car battery to be delivered and installed at home because my old one died and my car wouldn’t start. I edited a story and wrote my own story, albeit a simple one, without my brain bleeding. I still had this headache after lunch and tried to sleep but I couldn’t so I just stared at the ceiling, at my ipad, at my cat.
I had been imbibing Berocca the past two weeks, the supplement that helped me get over the flu-like symptoms of Covid, especially the sniffles.
Every reporter I know has this in her/his bag when we still roamed the metro digging for stories. We still worked even if we were sick. Nowadays it sounds so reckless…Oh wait, I’m working even if I am sick. Oh well.
One of my best recent discoveries on Youtube is Rajiv Surendra, a very curious and very creative person who is like a Renaissance man. His enthusiasm for art was like that of mine before I lost myself in ugly relationships. Rajiv, however, is more talented than I am and I just attended classes and apprenticeship because I could, not because I was talented.
I remember attending writing workshops in Philippine High School for the Arts, script writing for play workshops, theater directing workshops, theater workshops, song writing workshops–all classes and workshops I could attend because I was curious and wanted to learn. Because I wanted a creative outlet. Just because.
Watching Rajiv reminded me of those times that I got excited by art, by beautiful craftsmanship, by learning new skills. I want that again–that zest for life. I remember I used to make my own writing pads, my own notebooks (I learned book binding in school), and I used to have sketchpads and watercolor notebooks with me. I lost all that.
I suddenly realized that I’ve been dead for 20 years.
Now that I live solo (I mean without a partner), I can rediscover that part of me again. To be curious again and have that eagerness to learn. To be creative again.