So Much Is Said Unheard

“Your glass is half empty / like your tissue box / and your calls are blocked and you just / stare at the ceiling / play connect the dots / oh this has to stop.”

- Jay Legaspi, Said Unheard

I had the pleasure of meeting Jay at Babo’s Open Mic last Saturday. He’s a really nice guy. =) Not to mention an awesome musician/songwriter. It was great having the chance to meet him after I’ve been listening to his music nonstop for the last week. Him and Alfa Garcia. Who I met at another Open Mic and began listening to her music, too.

I have that itch now. That itch to create. I’ve had it for a while, but after hearing artists who are so real, people who were right in front of my face, creating every sound, it’s been amplified tenfold. There’s something in me, and I can’t get it out. It’s so frustrating.

I’ve always done creative things; I’ve written songs, I’ve drawn, painted, sang, created films. And I’ve always had very short, but very productive periods of each. But now that I’ve moved on, I can’t seem to get it back. I have that feeling inside, this urge to run and scream and let something out of me that I didn’t know was in me. It’s not pleasant feeling stuck in your own skin, comfortable, but knowing you could be something more.

I guess I just have to keep trying, to always keep the blank page in front of me and always search for things to fill it with.

– Riza

What Would Jesus Do?

Hi, this is Riza. You might have seen me around the halls of McNair, but I’m not there anymore. I graduated last June, class of 2007. So, even though I’m a freshman in college (and not a high schooler anymore,) Julian has graciously allowed me a spot as poster. So here it goes. Hope everyone had a lovely holiday.

—-

I went to church with my mother this morning, and as we walked, huddled together for warmth, she lamented to me about my sisters and brother.

“I don’t know why your siblings don’t go to church. Etel doesn’t go to church. Wady and Kate don’t go to church. Your Ate Rhea is the only one who goes every Sunday.”

Oh. Another conversation about God.

“You know, don’t do that, okay, anak? When you have a family, you go to church every Sunday.”

I nodded.

“You pray every night, right?”

“Mhmm,” I responded, as we stepped into mass. I took full advantage of the silence and said nothing. Sure it was a just a vibration of my vocal chords, but it was a lie nonetheless. 

 —-

I was born a Catholic, but throughout my years, I have lost my faith in “God.” It wasn’t due to the painful events in my life, and it wasn’t due to my family’s sometimes over-religious undertones. As I grew up, I just came to my own conclusion, based on things I had learned in school and people I’ve met.

It doesn’t make me feel empty at all. In fact, I do indeed feel that there’s something bigger than us, something that blankets and envelops all life. I feel that we are all connected somehow, but I choose not to call it God. I do not believe in most concepts of religion.

However, I know I can never tell my family this. My family is very religious, like most Filipino families are. We center around God and Jesus Christ. Every major holiday, we pray before we eat. My uncle is a deacon. My cousin is a eucharistic minister. Can’t really escape that. Life would be much harder for me if I were to announce that I don’t believe in God. They’d try to ’save’ me. They would not allow me to do things like go through the sacrament of marriage (which I would want to, despite my beliefs, for tradition’s sake.)

But it’s not just about me. It’s about them. Throughout my 18 years of life, I have watched my family grow in love. They all thank God for their lives, for their triumphs, and even for their hardships because the hardships have allowed them to grow. I understand the power of religion. Yes, there are many out there who believe that life would be better without religion. And indeed, it has been a large part of war and anger towards one another. But there is no doubt that the power of faith is strong, and that faith is often the single thing that helps a person get through his or her day. To take that hope away from anyone would be a horrible to do.

I would not want to deny my family the grief they must go through upon my death; I would want to allow them their way of dealing while being comfortable with mine. I do not want to challenge their faith at all, and I am fine pretending because I know that they would challenge mine. I will continue going to church every Sunday with my mom; I will continue saying that I pray and that I believe in the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I will continue to lead the prayers before meals at family functions and lead the rosary during my father’s death anniversary. I will even allow my earthly remains to be preserved, have a wake, and be buried in a coffin wherever my family desires despite the fact that I would rather be cremated and thrown in the river upon my death.

Sounds hypocritical, doesn’t it? Perhaps it is, sometimes.

No matter what, however, I would not resent my family if they found out my views and challenged my beliefs. I know that they would only be doing it out of love. After all, what would Jesus do?

 – Riza