By no means am I a religious guy. Sure, I go to mass every Sunday with my family and celebrate all the holy-days of the Christian calendar — but that’s just me sticking to traditions my folks have raised me to embrace. I do know (or at least hear) that Ash Wednesday is somehow related to giving alms to the poor, embracing the poor, and being one with them. Let me just say, and this is not to give myself credit, that even outside of this special day of Lent, I’ve always been “one with the poor” — or at least I feel that I am, being that I think I am aware and am concerned about their plight and their everyday go-throughs.

On my way home tonight, a kid on the street asked me for money. I’d just bought a solo-size carton of milk from Mini Stop. I figured I’d just give him that. And I did.

And it made me think of what some of my friends from Uni would always say to me when I’d give alms — be it in the form of food or money — and why they thought it was “wrong”. They’d say that by giving alms to these people, I was basically encouraging them to stay in that kind of condition, that I was cultivating, perhaps unwittingly, a culture of, shall we say, laziness and dependence in times of ordeal and problems. But then I thought, isn’t that already embedded in Filipino culture? We turn to others for help in times of need; hence, this tradition of “bayanihan” being formed.

Or maybe that’s a faulty analogy. But, wait, my point is this.

These beggars. They beg, they swallow their pride, and approach people to lend them help — any form of help. They extend their hands, palms open, waiting for anything people would be kind enough to give.

My main contention about the sentiment that to give them alms is to encourage them to continue being poor is that, hey, these people are suffering as they are now, to the point that they are willing to beg, to appear helpless, to appear poor. For someone to succumb to that kind of being — it’s desperation, it’s need in the purest form of the word.

That’s why I’ve always wondered why it’s so easy for some people to just pass by children on streets and not feel anything at all; in some instances they’re even seen as nuisance en route wherever they’re going. Sure, supposedly being the “leftist” I used to think I am, we view the situation in such a way that the poor are poor because of the system, because of the government, because of how our country is being sailed. Giving alms to the poor, from this perspective, would only serve as short-term satisfaction or fulfillment to those in need.

But, really, what is the harm in giving alms? What bad would it cause to satisfy that kid’s grumbling stomach even for just the evening, or to contribute the last peso needed by a mother to buy food for her baby?

Giving alms isn’t such a bad thing. They need it. And I think it’ll only really take a kind heart to recognize that they beg because they need to. This isn’t to say that we should all give alms, no. It really is more of an honest rant about how people tend to see the poor who beg in a bad light — like they’re good-for-nothing, lame-ass, displaced citizens of our country. Giving them alms isn’t encouraging them to remain in their situation. It’s simply to make them feel that they’re cared for, that there’s hope — especially since they can last another night with food in their stomach to make things right.

I therefore conclude that we should vote the presidentiable who is “tunay na mahirap”. Only he can truly understand. LOL, jk. Ew.

Do you know how much I hate you right now for making me feel so fucking shitty without you even knowing it like you’re doing this make-you-feel-shitty thing on purpose just to make me feel so fucking miserable. Yes, I feel so shitty I’m writing run-on sentences and didn’t even end my previous sentence with the right punctutation mark.

Damn you. You’re such a silent bitch killer. And no, by “bitch killer” I mean you’re a bitch who kills, not a killer who kills bitches — because then you’d be comitting the irony of ironies by killing yourself. On second thought, why don’t we just go with the second definition so that you’d just disappear and not be everywhere, as in literally everywhere, everywhere to me. Agh. I can’t believe I just quoted a Michelle Branch song — or wait, is it Vanessa Carlton? Wth. I don’t care.

It’s you I care for. Shit. No. I don’t. Because caring for you would mean feeling all the more shittier. That’s why I should stop caring. But how the hell am I supposed to do that if you’re bitch-slapping me by being…there, existing, breathing.

Disappear, bitch. Relieve me.

Someone remote wipe my brain.

Fate is an illusion. We are merely given circumstances, thrust into a chaos of different circumstances — that which the disillusioned perceives to be order, to be fate. It is up to us to do what we deem necessary in this chaos, with it, within it, in spite of it.

The “fate” of you and the person to whom the heart belongs being at the same place at the same time is not a conspiracy, a special arrangement of the universe. It is merely the universe letting nature’s course be. To think that the universe conspires for us to reach our goals, to fulfill our dormant desires, is egotistical. We do not deserve the universe’s attention. It lets us be, we let it let us let us be.

Letting a passing instance of chaos, an instance of what we perceive to be fate, simply slip by is opportunity lost. We make order out of chaos by pulling in, fitting together the different pieces, making it a coherent whole.

And that’s what I intend to do the next time our chaos comes by.