any single wednesday

Do you feel old? Me, uhmmm…yeah sometimes. Just sometimes. I maybe 24, but I always see myself to be having a mental age of 13. I’m like Peter Pan I guess, in some ways aside from being cute.

I am now receiving emails with a “remember when” theme and feel nostalgic. I remember when Magnolia Chocolait was still on bottles just like the sodas. I remember when Pepsodent toothpaste was still on the market. I can still recall when my Tita asks me to buy her a Gee Your Hair Smells Terrific Shampoo (whatta mouthful). The laugh of Bert Tawa Marcelo is still in my memory. And for me, nothing could top Nissins Ramen. These were the some of the memoirs that make me feel ancient, just sometimes. Maybe because I chose not to grow up that much.

When I was still working for this Printing Company, my friend Rowel downloaded episodes of Ragnarok the Animation. Every inch of our kiddie brain got excited when we started to play the said video. A girl officemate was baffled by the sight, a two full grown persons watching cartoons…with sparkle in their eyes, mouth-slightly open, bearing a small grin and almost drooling.

“Para kayong mga bata”, she said, suppressing a smile (and disgust I guess)

This picture was not very far from when I was checking out SpongeBob on Nickelodeon. I know whenever I am watching cartoons, I produce this strange expression that attracts the attention of the oldies. I was laughing then, I couldn’t help it, the show was soo hilarious. My aunt threw a sickened look at me and come out with, “Ang tanda tanda mo na hilig mo pa sa ganyan, pambata lang yan”.

“Arent you too old for that”, words that I often get doing this thingies.

Too old for what? Too old for fun? Too old to laugh out loud? For songs and dance? Too aged to appreciate colors and drawing? For basics and simplicity?

This is one of the things that occasionally thump my (subnormal?) head. When people grow up, we take a lot. A lot of responsibilities, paper works, meetings, badmouthings, stress, headaches and blood clogs. But we’re not gaining that much, our spirits drying up, imagination levels to zero, brain cells were full of cob webs. We don’t believe in magic anymore, or of the fairy godmothers, of Santa Claus, of the Dungeons and Dragons. And the idiom “Dreams do come true” is nothing but an old lie. They’re not real.

Our eyes then have been diverted to look at more convoluted and nerve-racking things. Leaving the idea of looking at simple beauty life is offering, that when we just scratch its surface lies more reasons for us to have a happy heart. The world is not that bad, grown ups were just looking at the wrong part.

That’s why I chose not to grow up.

I choose to listen to Helga’s scowl than to Mike Enriquez’s line, “Hindi naming kayo tatantanan!”

I’d rather bear in my cranium, Arnold’s simple but deep wisdom than to try to decipher the arias of recriminations the characters of telenovelas were shouting.

I prefer to watch Spiderman fighting misdeeds than to watch news about politicians committing crime.

I opt to look at the skies at night with the moon and its glow than to stare at the nunal of Ate Glow.

Maybe yeah, I wouldn’t grow up. But I like the feeling of warmth when I look at the world with child’s eyes. The world can be harsh and cold sometimes, simple things help me hold on my sanity firmer.

Sidelight:
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(I’ve read in one of the comments in Randy Valiente’s Blogsite that people whose into “mababaw” things (e.g. cartoons, video games, etc.) were smart people. Well I dunno about those stats and studies, but I am secured about the fact that I’m a smart person (Insert your “BOOO!” here), just don’t let me answer 7×8, 9×7, 8×3 ok. But you could always ask me what’s the meaning of rhetorics, what the heck archaeas are, and why am I so good-lookin’ anytime.
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I was walking down the Grace Park one day, when I caught up this children’s show presented by the Church. Bored with the Katekista’s clichés, half of the kid audiences were not seated. They chose to play instead, they’re running wildly from every direction, screaming and laughing so hard. I so want to join in.

One of the bigger kid played the Hawk in “Mother Chicken”. The smaller tykes let out shrills of pure excitement and horror. Because THEY CAN SEE a Hawk, and THEY ARE the chicks the Hen was protecting.

That was the power I’d always like to embrace. The magic of dreaming could bring.

So who says there aren’t fairies or bogeymen? Who says Santa Claus doesn’t exist? Who says wishing feathers didn’t carry our requests to the wishmaster?

And who says dreams don’t come true?

There are, They exist, They happen, and They are True if we Believe.

And if we believe strong enough, the magic will always happen. Just don’t let those dreams fade away. As for me, I think I have to wear my spandex now, call Patrick the Starfish, and go on (I just have to be aware of the dragon lurking in the dark).

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the writer has (indefinitely) stopped wacthing cartoons, it is because their TV wasn’t functioning normally. one day, he switched on the boobtube and all it brought to his face was a single white dot in the midlle of the screen and the murmurings of the show he didn’t identified. he asked the TV… why?, and Jean Garcia (he recognized the voice at last) murmured “You wouldn’t understand”, the writer slapped the poor idiot box, then the white dot at the middle vanished together with the voice.