love; charity; respect

the fact that my uncle wants to cancel the transaction that will allow my family to remain in our humble home is really not that great a deal. he does not mean much to us and i should not veto his right to disregard, oh, only the rest of our lives which will be pinned down paying money for medical bills for a mother who was never really there. it is really okay. we have each other. you want our throats. i totally dig that.

i think it is just tragic how the pain and suffering of others are used as a backdrop to your wonderful(ly fluffy and useless) life, really. professing (questionable) sorrow amounts to a grand total of essential worthlessness. especially so since the convenient "this makes me cherish my life so much" and subsequent chanting of a day which is really the same as the one before, and the one before, and. a surprise! the one before too.

but who am i to speak ill, when i cannot think of anything to do to meaningfully help these people stuck in a political strife streaked with the blood of extremism.

how fatal the love that there are those like us who see sense and put faith in the justification of death, and how tragic the normalisation of suffering that has been present for time long enough that it is seen as the status quo, and thus more easily ignored.

there are those who live on less than US$1 daily, and others that spend US$20 million to go to the moon.

WSC just won itself the President's Social Service Award in recognition for its contribution to social awareness and charitable efforts. but what is really being recognised here? heritage, legacy, tradition. each year, the same projects and efforts will be churned out in accordance to the model as years before. it is all the more difficult to break out of the mold when people take unjustified pride in their minute roles holding up the status quo without giving heed to how this existing strength can be pushed farther. instead we stay on as worker ants and inflate our egos with the air of unfounded pride and transient glory. thus is the spirit of volunteerism gradually hardened into the commercialised institution of self-gratification.

"wah, you go overseas to help ah? it is very good of you. so now you cherish your life more right?"

yes, i do. who gives a flying fuck about whether i truly helped the people there for real and for life, right?

and no. i have not.