The Theater of the Absurd

There was once a man who ought to find meaning of himself. He was confronted with so many existential problems that he was moved to stroll down the boulevard of theaters. He saw two major theaters; the theater of the absurd and the theater of reality.
He wanted to see what the theater of reality was, and so he went in. Then the curtains rolled up and he saw himself playing the lead actor's role. He was so engrossed with his performance but he only saw what he ought to see, in that context, in that phenomenon. He was part of that theater, dancing to the music and acting with his heart. Then he left
He went into the next theater, the theater of the absurd. Again he saw himself, acting the lead 's role. He laughed at what he saw, as to how he does his daily activities with rhythm, consistency, and habit. He was then surprised to see himself acting monotonously, without any feeling of surprise doing those daily activities.
At times in our life, we enter into this two theaters. Neither one of them is wrong nor absolutely right. The theater of reality allows us to get in part of the drama in life, making us see what is just perceived by the senses and showing us that life in reality has meaning, and is rational. Yet in 'reality' we tend to move unto that impossible without thinking of it's 'unimpossibility'. Thus that action would lead it's absurdity.
The theater of the absurd shows us the meaningless of life. That the actor's aim is to let the audience disagree with this phenomenon, this reality that life indeed is meaningless, irrational. Why would they aim for their disagreement? That would be the beginning of something profound.
The idea of absurdism was not intended to cultivate the meaningless. To produce a world of senselessness and irrationality. No, this isn't. The theater of the absurd is showing, exposing and unfolding the absurd in everyday situations, as the audience are forced to seek a truer and more essential life for themselves.

Walking with a Stranger

I absolutely lack the courage to write this blog. My thoughts were just moving around in the corners of my room but I can't just hold them and put them together to establish my simple thought of walking with a stranger.
I just would like to divide the title into three different parts: the act of walking, 'with', a stranger. By acknowledging the separation of these words maybe I can establish a good blog out of these phrase.
First word, walking. The act of walking is very common to us. We walk everyday. Though we drive our own cars or we ride mass transits, we do walk... even just a little walk. While we walk, we are given the opportunity to just simply be ourselves, allow ourselves to fascinate what the surroundings can offer, to stop by and to appreciate what we can see by our senses. By walking we are in control of ourselves and in control of our own destiny. By this I mean, contrary to driving or riding on a car, we are given the utmost freedom to control ourselves. The will to stop and arrive at our destination under our own desire, to arrive on time or to be late but still made it. When we walk we are relaxed and focused. We can look at ourselves from the outside and into the inside, and we see ourselves respond to stimulus from the environment. In conclusion, when we walk we allow ourselves to interact with our environment and to think as to what these phenomenon conveys to us.
Second word, 'with'. In one of my special English classes I always commit mistakes in using prepositions, most especially on the preposition 'with'. I looked back at my mistakes and realized something insignificant to what an English teacher can see; that I am an existential thinker. I always believe in the word 'with'. This word embodies a deeper existential meaning rather than merely a literary word. 'With" embodies the act of being 'with', note here that the word being means existential presence; the act of being present to a person as a subjective individual. This relays a message of subjectivity rather than possessiveness or objectivity. Summarily, to be 'with' means to open, to relate, and to be in communion with.
Third word, a stranger. Being estranged became a fundamental debate throughout the history of philosophy. You can have Marx as he uses the word alienation to signify estrangement, Kierkegaard as positing man's estrangement to God, and Camus as the writer of the novel The Stranger. Well, in this case we won't be using philosophy that much. I focus on the word stranger as something that is new to us, it can be a person, event, or community whichever is helpful in this manner. For this purpose we would be using the person.
Being with a stranger means that being in communion with a stranger can allow us to view the world in a different perspective. To look at phenomena in a brighter way, if you see it in the darker way; or to look at phenomena in a darker way, if you see it in the brighter way. Being with a stranger would give us different thoughts of morality and objectivity. This occurs because the stranger is giving a new insight while we, also a stranger to them, gives also a different insight which may be acceptable or not. In other words, we learn from these strangers. Just being with them would give that amount of realization, how much more would it be if we walk with them.
Walking with a stranger means allowing to experience what the world would be if we experience it together, not as a well-acquainted individuals but as a mere stranger to one's self and to the other. The more will we appreciate happenings in our life and the more will we understand the value of living this life. We stop and appreciate, look back, think and re-think. We continue walking and we see another event, then stop. Until we reach to a point of fulfillment, that somehow walking with a stranger would give us new insights of our estrangement.

Trilogy of a Poet's Love

These are series of poems in Filipino language, expressing the story of a poet's love... These went into a sequence from the beginning up to the present situation... The story continues and so will the love of the poet.

Tulad ng Ibon

by Daniel Lao on Friday, September 17, 2010 at 1:06am


Nang dahil sa iyo kami ay nagtagpo

tulad ng ibon na hanap ay puno,

sa iyo kami dumapo at sa iyo ay ipinagdasal

ang buhay na malayang magmahal

pagkat kami ay nagmamahal din

kahit ipinagbawal mo'y pinipilit namin

hangad ng lipunan kami ay supilin

dahil larawan kami sa katotohanang lihim

ako ay nagagalak na ika'y makilala

makausap sa puso, makapiling ng malaya

ang oras na ginugol mo sa akin ay mahalaga

katulad ng pag-ibig na alay ko sinta

sa bawat patak ng luhang may dangal

sangkap nito'y pagdurugo mula sa pusong hangal

kahit ikaw ay di dapat mahalin,

ako'y iyong pinahalagahan at pinansin.

ang mga huni ng ibon, hanggang dito na lamang,

sa hawlang asul sila ay nilinlang.

hayaan na lamang at nawa'y pakinggan

ang sigaw para sa pagmamahal, na sila'y tinanggalan

Dama

by Daniel Lao on Sunday, September 19, 2010 at 7:10pm

Ang wari ng mura kong isipan,

ang pintig ng puso at ang nilalaman...

Tanging ang katotohanang iyong pinapadama,

na ako sa puso mo ay mahalaga.

Haplos ng kamay mo sa aki'y dumampi,

tamis ng halik mo'y pilit na hinihingi.

Init ng yakap mo'y muntik ng maangkin,

lahat nito'y iniukit ko na lamang sa hangin.

Sa bawat araw na tayo'y magkasama,

takot at ligaya'y aking nadarama.

Takot mula sa mundo nating mapanlinlang,

at ligaya mula sa pusong alam kong nagpalinlang.

Hanggang kailan ba dapat tayong ganito?

Kailan natin makakamtan ang tunay na pagbabago?

Init ng hawak mo'y kailan ko mararamdaman

at tamis ng halik mo kailan ako madampian?

Patuloy kitang iibigin, patuloy kitang pakikiramdaman.

at nawa'y tinitibok ng puso ko'y iyong maramdaman.

Ligaya'y di matumbasan makapiling ka lamang,

at kahit sandali'y maging akin ka lang.

Hawak Na Buhangin

by Daniel Lao on Sunday, October 3, 2010 at 8:47pm

Sa aking paglalakad, mura kong isipan ay namulat,

at sa mga butil ng buhangin pag-iisip ko'y nabuklat.

Nabuksan ang aking puso sa isang ganap na katotohanan,

na ang pag-ibig na ito'y mayroon ding hangganan.

Sa baybayin ng dagat mga buhangin ang nakikita,

sa bawat hinagpis ng tubig ito ay nahahasa.

Anong pilit kong mahawakan sa musmos na mga palad kong ito,

buhangi'y nadudulas at nahuhulog ng husto.

Dahil nais mapasa-akin, pagkahawak ay binigyan ng lakas,

ang buhangin ay dahan-dahang nauubos at nagpupumiglas.

Huwag mong idiin, buhangin ay maiiwan din,

Ngunit mga kamay ko'y naging iyong mga alipin.

Ganyan nga ba ang pag-ibig pag iyong ipinipilit,

lalo itong aaklas, at sa sakit ay mamimilipit.

Huwag mong ialay kusa itong kukunin,

pag iyong ibinigay ito'y kusa ring lilisanin.

Ang pagmamahal na ito ay aking maihahambing,

sa mga palad kong ito na may hawak na buhangin.

Nalilito ang isip ko kung ano ang dapat isagawa,

hahawakan, ididiin, o bibitawang bigla?