untitled 4

multitude minds mingling
for the inception of ideas intertwined
morosely musing at the mundane
ABCs of articulation accepted, acknowledged
roaring river in its rarity
the rapids overflowing, I am overcome
my peace pieced, patted in place
away to the aurora, afloat, adrift...

See Evil

I wonder what’s worse. Is it cheating on an exam or cheating on your beloved? Don’t they both constitute cheating? Or which is graver? Is it stealing a few bills from your parent’s wallet or robbing a bank? Don’t they both constitute stealing? What could be more sinful? Is it gossiping or doing things that are worth gossiping about?

Is it wrong to point out that something is wrong and appear puritanical or self-righteous? Or appear puritanical while talking among yourselves about someone who is seemingly in the wrong? How do we classify the extent of one’s wrongdoing? Would you pardon Robin Hood for stealing from the rich and helping the poor? And would you do the same to those in power stealing from the poor to distribute the loot among the rich? Surely the choice is to pardon Robin Hood and put the powerful who steal to the gallows. But wouldn’t that mean condoning stealing? Regardless of who does the stealing, it is still stealing. The same argument goes to telling a lie. When one says a white lie like saying a friend looks good in her attire, it is no better than telling an all-out lie like telling you didn’t kill someone when you are indeed the murderer.

Who qualifies all these? Why do we even bother to measure the extent of the wrongdoing? A sin is a sin. Period. But we can’t be that exact about it, can we? There are a lot of factors that go into it because we deal with feelings, behaviors, ideas, the social science, or the like that we can’t certainly measure exactly. How do we resolve the dispute then?

To see evil is to be aware of its existence. To see evil is to be conscious of your own contribution to it or to the fight against it. To see evil is to have a responsibility. Now wouldn’t you choose to be blind to evil in order for you not to involve yourself? Wouldn’t you choose to be clueless instead and live in peace? For what you don’t know won’t hurt you. But wouldn’t not knowing hurt more than the knowledge of it?

The Drama

I was ironing the clothes I’m wearing for work when suddenly it occurred to me that I’ve been overly sensitive about things lately. I always credit it to the cycle of the month but the moods have come and gone yet the period hasn’t started. It goes to show I simply blame my mood-swings on other things except on my inability to control my temper/emotion. It’s not a beautiful thought so early in the morning. It almost even solicited a tear from me – the drama queen at work again. So I went to work with a heavy heart, a sad look on my gaunt face.

The commute to work was uneventful, not much change from the usual daily morning rush I go through. I saw the same people I used to pass by – the blind old lady banging the cymbals with her hands to attract passersby to give her some change, the other old, rather fat lady who has made a stake at the top of the stairs of the same overpass sitting on the same discarded carton box with her things about her. I saw the same policemen who make the traffic worse by waving away the rides that would stop to pick up the commuters. So I had to walk farther away to get my ride to work.

I had to pass through another overpass to get to my building and on my way up the steps I saw three children, probably siblings, with grubby faces seated side by side blocking almost half of the step. Once again, irritation and annoyance crept through my mind and surely a not-so-winsome grimace surfaced on my face without my knowing it. They weren’t asking for loose change or anything. They were just sitting there grinning and waiting for I’m not sure what. Now why did I get annoyed with that?

As I walked towards the building three men were walking in front of me. They’re probably on their way to the next building when a loud burp escaped my throat. I hardly had time to cover my mouth or to try to suppress it. One of the men apparently heard the unwelcome sound and looked my way. I didn’t look back then suddenly I grinned when he wasn’t looking anymore. What if he thought that barf was the sound of flatulence or excess gas escaping from my a_ _? Wouldn’t that have been hilarious? A person this thin with that loud barf is someone to reckon with, I figure. Then I went up the building with a smile on my face thinking of the hilarity of the situation. Was it indeed hilarious or pathetic? You choose.

Don’t ask me how the day went by, though. That would take too much space or too much blank space. The consolation is that the day has not ended entirely yet. I have the night to look forward to better, brighter things. Maybe a good meal or a nice movie? Or probably a call from somebody special or an email from a friend. The possibilities are endless as well as the non-possibilities. I just have to choose which of the two will make my day. Then I’ll be ready to rest my tired eyes and my hands weary with typing with a faint smile on my still gaunt face thinking things hadn’t turned too bad after all. That there’s another tomorrow to look forward to. There always is tomorrow. Now that’s a comforting thought.