DONE

“There you go again like a stereo!” my conscience speaks, scolding. However, my emotion is disagreeing this time. Have to say what I ought to for friends know. Then, I am out of this concern after this last message – no more of this in the future.

Just this week, I have posted four different messages in a row on my timeline as my status on Facebook. Let me restate them along with my explanation. It may be a waste time to do so, but want to give individuals still the benefit of the doubt for acting so defensive, for being so denial, and for making alibis just to cover up guilty.

 “I still don’t understand what Facebook is for.”

I start with this unexplained post. Friends thought (only an assumption) that I’m putting the blame on this social network, but to be honest – a big NO! Nobody knew what I was thinking because I failed to give a comment about this indirect statement leaving others themselves to predict. Well, I only had one implication for such a status – that this amazing access we now have is supposed to be for communication, to reach out, to reconnect, and to show care – not to pretend like a living dead.

My mistake, of course, for pushing friends to have the same thinking as I am – we are not. There I deleted the message realizing that each person thinks differently as a matter of truth.

Has anyone clicked a “like” or gave a comment on this? No one had, but I was trying hard to understand or respect his or her deafening response.

Another indirect post followed in hope of something. I wrote... "Want to post something not cliches, but even then, I still don't get as many likes this guy expects." With one intention, but to express a simple connotation - that it feels useless to give friends updates in this site or in my blog because they don't really appreciate my effort.

I was right in a sense referring to unappreciative people, but I was also wrong in a sense referring to very few true friends who are always there to appreciate and rejoice with me.

When I think about those posts, it taught me lesson that will also teach my friends somehow - never ever fit in to anyone who does not deserve your true affection and care. Leave them behind or unfriend them or block them as possible. And I wont regret for saying this or for posting those messages because it was good still to express what I had in mind to shatter the silence.

Again, another direct message I posted this morning driven by the same classic situation - wish I didn't do, but I had to because of the presence of transcendent friends in the chat room. Thanks to friend for the likes and for the comments. This was my message: "Sometimes or many times, I don't want to start a conversation to someone here on Facebook - that's when I am tempted to unfriend or block a person. I just did few minutes ago. I used to have almost 700 friends, now look what I got - 219."

I think this message is clear enough and doesn't need a supplementary justification. Period.

Here is the last one I've posted today on Facebook, in different account: "From now on, I will never initiate a chat on Facebook or like the post of undeserving people or give a kind comment to the living dead." Before I forgot, I have two Facebook accounts, which many of you already knew.

In case you want to know my motive behind this message, here is it anyway - treat your Facebook friends the way they treat you. I got some lists for you to elaborate my statement further:

• Not every friend deserves a "like" sign.
• Never initiate a chat among living dead again – once or twice is enough.
• Do not hesitate to unfriend someone – I already unfriended many.
• You can block any pretentious friends if you want to – I did like over hundred times. That’s a provision of a “block” for.
• They don’t need you, obviously, and so you don’t need friends like them, too.

It is fair enough, isn't it? After all, this is just Facebook – a social networking service – half-truth, half-lies – nothing personal or serious matter to mind and muddle. As I said, it’s no longer my concern, then I’m done with this issue.

D-O-N-E-, done!

What's Next?

When Facebook came in, I was only a year behind. In just one click a way, it brought me into another world not knowing what to expect. And in weeks time, this pretty laid back "me" was able to catch up with friends who are so attached to virtual reality. That's when the evolution of this social-networking service wasn't quick yet.

"Boom!"

There it went so fast like a blink of an eye. Each aficionado had crammed suddenly caught surprised and alarmed with the unpredictable development of this website. But human is human, and is so gifted with flexibility to learn things and go with the flow. Believe it or not, we're so accustomed to Facebook these days amidst constant change.

I am as well, but not tolerant of things or people with confusing lingo to bring. I've featured this concern in my blog sometime in October last year - Drift, which talks about a language drift. Now it's another issue to tackle - a common symbol (#) and yet so muddling - I only see this on Facebook every single day.

So desperate to ask this in many chances, but I was hesitant to do it. Maybe I was scared asking the wrong person and be put to shame for such naivety. I asked finally since I could no longer stand my confusion. My bad, I know, I didn't take an initiative to research the latest usage of this symbol # in Google.

"What's this sign (#) in almost every word?" I asked a friend, jumbled.

"Tweeter or instagram, blah, blah, blah..." she explained.

I don't know how it evolves, but I've been noticing it's appearances for many times, almost everyday. My ignorance to this is forgivable especially for not having a tweeter account or for not fancying an instagram, but my lack of knowledge using this sign (#) wrongly, I think demands a review.

What's next? Well, I don't have any idea or answer to this question yet. Let's wait until another sign will reign   soon.

Thought I'm the only one who is disturbed by this annoyance, thank God, I found a company. When I visited my favorite blog today, the author posted the same thing and provided some answers to my wondering mind. She had asked the same question, too.

A hashtag or a hash mark or a pound sign or a space mark or whatever they call it, I'm still intolerant to this misconception, the proper use of a number sign. You can call me dogmatic or conservative for this. I don't mind.

HANDWRITING

Handwriting was one of the biggest issues at school during my childhood days. Each pupil had to learn to write a word or a phrase or a sentence or a paragraph in ways a teacher wanted - it should be neat, in normal size, and with proper strokes. But the most demanding task to win a teacher's praise or to avoid a stick was to describe our writing in cursive or rounded letters which are joined together. 

Thanks to my eagerness learning stuff before others, because by the time it needed, at the age of eight, I already had developed such a handwritten style. And like those kids who worked their hardest, I don't remember moving up to the next grade was a real threat - where a lot of copying from the board, in cursive handwriting required.

And exactly in second grade I started reading complicated love letters in rounded characters.

Before our elementary days were over, our hands got used to the pressure of writing well - which turned in a possessed gift in the end more than just a beautiful skill - including those left-handed kids weren't excluded for having this strength to be proud of - a good penmanship.

It took many years, of course -  not to forget those scoldings from teachers and parents to be able to write properly and correctly; and to remember those seemingly endless exercises writing clean, readable enough; and to affirm those hard works into perfection. But there wasn't more fulfilling than beating each classmate for writing fast and neat. We had done it several times uncountable. We truly had fun even if it was so tiring at the same time.

These were my younger years at school.

Then high school came was a different story since we were no longer kids but responsible learners. It was then when a handwriting was no longer an issue - we now had the freedom to write in our own way or style as long as we cope up with the academic demands. But whether it's a cursive or not, we kept the good habit of writing neatly for everyone to read comprehensively.

Whether they're lectures or home works or essays or research papers or exams or some private stuff to write and keep, all but in handwriting a way - with one option then - using a typewriter - and yet it wasn't that comfortable to take advantage to. So we preferred handwritten back then, almost handwritten products.

I never bought songbooks, but wrote down every favorite song in my notebook.

If it was possible for every occasion, I preferred giving hand-made cards and not those computerized ones, and with my messages and wishes through my own handwriting.

Never had I computerized my compositions, they were written by my own hand compiled and kept.

And so everything was a handwritten a way until my college days (except for major papers). Those who were comfortable enough with this mean, they always find handwriting was easier and quicker than any supplied inventions there were.

Then one generation after another came, and brought sophisticated developments along the way - laptop and cell phones to name specifically, but I wasn't threatened at all - I still loved handwriting despite a lot of loads to encode in the computer and messages to send through a cell phone and emails - I called it flexibility to learn new things and incorporate handwriting still. This seemingly laid back "me" had no choice since I was already in grad school at that time.

Thanks to the idea of keeping journals because it helped me write more not neglecting my handwriting even when I was already out of school. And learning languages kept me from being lazy to write as well.

I thought still had the beautiful hobby, but not lately. Over a year ago, things have changed because I was so consumed by these technologies, which left  me lazy. I  stopped writing journals since blogging was easier. The only time I used my handwriting was when jotting down my goals and plans in my planner for it isn't a technology made. Thank goodness!

Now, this makes me so curious about the new generation - when every kid is just so attached to this super convenient gadgets - pampering every creature on earth. I wonder if kids these days can still write the way we were in my era. Just wondering, but do hope I'm wrong.

FOR YOUR OWN SAKE

Last Sunday, it took another herald to affirm in the pulpit that Filipinos in general aren't much of a reader, but it will take another person's perspective to contest or buy this statement. As for me, I couldn't agree more. I've seen a lot of people don't find this hobby interesting at all; who live up to such habit - I heard it through the grapevine - obsessed with myths instead of trying to discover the truth themselves.

If this was a research paper, then I am tasked to provide a thick description or legitimate facts to prove my stand ( I can do that), but it's not my ultimate purpose for this article. I respect every reason you have for being off the books, and it is your responsibility to tell the truth whether you read or not. Anyway, I'm just a blogger who also needs grace to read; not a bookworm yet. 

"Please read, it's for your own sake." I reminded my students for countless times. But even then, I was just a clanging cymbal. In my years of staying at the center, only my adopted son absorbed the idea. And so he's the only one who truly gets those nuggets of wisdom - from reading books.

One can predict if a person really reads or not - for he or she is no one else but a "well informed" being you'll ever know - that's the secret - not like those noisy ones but empty cans. You don't have to be an extreme bibliophile to embrace this lifestyle, just read because it's for your own sake. After all, collecting books can be very expensive and space consuming.

Again, just read.

"For even brilliant people read!" This is my reading state of mind unless someone has a newer philosophy for me. Of course, I don't mean that reading is only for intellectual kind. I read too even if I struggled understanding.Who doesn't need wisdom from above, anyway?

From the time I started blogging until this very year, only few Filipino friends read my article or visit my blog at least. So surprised to know that many of my readers are from Europe, America, and other parts of Asia -   not from the Philippines or very few.

How did I know?

My blog's statistic updates me every single second of the day - and it never lies. This is not encouraging actually, yet I've decided to keep writing whether readers be false (who said they're reading my blog, but not) or few.

I plug in my blog to Filipino friends old and new often enough aside from posting my articles on Facebook, but I learned not to expect much because it takes extra time to indulge reading; and many people don't just read at all.  

Even if people don't read, they have the tendency to collect books, but only to display them or for termites to  build their homes.Why collect them for nothing?

If you don't have time to read a book or don't want to read one at all, give them away for others to benefit. Don't you realize still that a book was meant for reading and not for displaying alone? Sorry for my arrogance, it's for your own sake. So, please read!

I may not be the most interesting person you have known or doesn't have that intelligence to fathom your standard, but the only thing I can assure you is my reading habit - I read a lot more than you think. And I read for my own sake - and so read for your own sake as well.  

STARRY NIGHT

Stargazing is amazing aside from my obsession seeing the sun sets and watching the moon lights at night in new or in full shape – they’re gifts which one’s naked eye can take pleasure in freely. Thanks to my small veranda that I may have direct access keeping up with what’s happening in the outside world especially during night time – where stargazing is just so irresistible.

I’m not a stargazer or an astronomer or an astrologer or a person involved in any of these studies, but just a plain guy who fancies looking at the stars. It doesn’t take a genius to behold the beauty of a starry night – have been stargazing all my life, and for the rest of my life.

This is what you get for staying in the country side – every night is a starry night. Living in big cities is a different scenario although we still see stars from time to time – it’s always cloudy caused by gray gas – nothing but a skyline dominated by smoking factory chimneys. Lucky us because stars are very large and bright, then we can still see them in cloudy sky.

When I moved back in the city, the habit is still there but the joy of seeing stars above isn’t that overwhelming. Not to exaggerate, felt like I could even count on the stars on the fingers of one hand. But not last night – a surprisingly starry sky, uncountable – when stars were just seemingly reachable like picking up apples in the orchard.

Nothing like this has ever happened the many nights before watching stars from my veranda, and so I was very delighted to see a whole constellation. Or a galaxy, who knows? And so I didn’t slip the chance away stargazing all-night until dawn. It was indeed amazing!

Yesterday evening was totally different although the neighborhood was rejoicing loudly for the Khmer New Year. Noise just filled the air – loud music, endless shouts, screams at the top of their voices, and yet I felt at peace still seeing the starry night before me. It was so beautiful!

One starry night a way which brought me back to my childhood days filled with peculiar imagination – an odd desire or dream of collecting a bucket of stars. I find it worth reminiscent my innocence as a child. Sometimes or many times, we tend to put that childhood memories into seclusion when we grow up; because we have grown matured. But it’s part of our existence before becoming adults – that needs remembering.

Looking at the stars at night gives me hope despite life’s odyssey. Maybe it’s just me, but it reminds me of the significance of fulfilling dreams big and small. This is where I get my inspiration pursuing all my aspirations in life – from a starry night – a priceless gift from above – in stargazing.

It may be a habit, but I couldn’t go to bed without gazing at the sky. Then I always know if it was a night filled with stars or none at all. And so last night was a real bolt from the blue.

Thank God for another starry night to enjoy and for the message of hope in this world full of despair.

What a starry, starry, starry night!