8/31/2007
Trust me, it's not about the coffee

Countless people fight for freedom of expression, ironically, in places where you don't have that. Go raise that placard, young man, and I'll pray for your life. Maybe that's why satire takes on the craziest of forms, but we're not to belittle anybody's intelligence. Just that, well, I'm in a mood to complain about people who can't speak up about the pettiest of feelings. You know, people like me.

Bono wrote the song Sweetest Thing (which actually was The Sweetest Thing until it was officially released) as an apology to his wife for forgetting her birthday while U2 was recording The Joshua Tree. It played before I started writing - I was hesitant on writing - until it started that thought bubble about coffee. I wouldn't want to recall about coffee workers protesting over labor conditions. Probably the only stories that I'm aware of is how some Filipinos are packaging our coffee as classy, thanks to the mindset that having it in Starbucks is everything.

Before we realized that our cultural studies finals were called off - and everyone was given a 4.0 - this was what we were discussing. Lau, Kat, Michelle, Sara and I - coffee, Adam Levine, Johnny Depp, deterritorialization, and the fact that time is running out. I was reusing the example on why having conversations over Starbucks lattes is different from having conversations over instant coffee in sachets. It never hit us that hard. We were all saying, "right, right" while most remain very much distracted over what was being said outside the lessons.

But why is it really so hard to speak up? I mean, you only have to say a few words and pretend not to mean it. Do otherwise and it feels like you're carrying the world on your shoulders. The other time I did this I got ribbed because, well, secrets have their way out of the window. You can only express it so much, say so much, and stay sane. I don't really know.

I've always wanted to ask about what makes "crazy" such a negative term. Sure, I've always been taken aback whenever Jem blurts out "you're crazy" before realizing that she means something different. Insert the sanitary (or otherwise, most usually) images of a mental institution, someone in a straight jacket, Angelina Jolie in Girl, Interrupted, and then you being called crazy, especially for the most gullible, will become a trauma that'll haunt you forever. But I guess they just have issues that either nobody has figured out, or bothered to even know. That's how oppressive the world is.

And, you know, it's always felt that way for me, at least initially, because people just didn't care, or seemed to not care, because they don't want anybody knowing. It's intellectual torture, and intellectual because it isn't emotional. But why is it really hard to speak up? Can't you just send a song request and wait for the DJ to play the song? Feeling are normal things. They just haunt you because you don't speak up. And it's a normal thing to be tormented, but not eternally. If it was the case then, you are crazy. And then I oppress you, laugh at you, because you can't speak up.

Sure, admit it, you've always thought of that way against me. The many issues? Sure. Lie about it now if you want to, but isn't it so much like you asking me about why I won't tell Kizia anything years back. And now you even think I'm crazy because I'm all blatant and everything else that comes with it. And then you laugh when I fail, right? Right?

"It's hard writing about a concept blog entry, fearing people won't understand. A blog entry on speaking up..."

But why is it really hard to speak up?

Why when all you have to talk about is how you can flip a coffee cup around and say everything? Does it have to be that cute? Does it have to be that extravagant? Do you even have to bother?

It's very much a coincidence that Sweetest Thing got released as a single. Alison Hewson wanted all proceeds from that to be donated to charity, and the music video has a lot of cameos in it, but surely Bono was effortless, if not extravagant (given his stature) in saying that one thing he's already said to Alison. I wish I could've done that kind of video for class.

Forgive me. I digress again. It's just so hard to admit to the slightest of crushes when there's nothing to say.

And your responses...

Brother, damn you're good. How d'ya write in such a very smooth manner. It's sweet sailing, man. You should write a book or something. I'll buy it, hands-down. Peace.

Blogger Daniel Ted8/31/2007     

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