Ugly Beautiful

You are you. I am me. We are what we are.

I am not a writer nor a wordsmith. Just somebody ordinary with English as a second language, concerned with how mainstream beauty defines and affects people’s perspective on how to feel body acceptance and confidence.

If somebody is beautiful, somebody is ugly. Given how beauty is defined, imposed and being obsessed with, the latter is a miserable place to be. So what if you’re ugly or you just think you’re ugly? Does it really have to be a bad thing as good, bad and something in between limit?

Is there a word that will not tell people they are ugly nor beautiful, but they are what they are and should be accepting and confident?

I have had experience answering questions of how somebody looks like from time to time. From people like mental patients and a patient who had deformity through an accident. From Deaf children questioning their appearances and abilities. Even from family and friends. Beautiful? Ugly? Now, I say you! You are you. You are being you. You are *youful!

This thinking also goes back to knowing about the Monster Study. An experiment on stuttering children and how two divisions, positive reinforcement and criticism, positively and negatively affected their treatment and lives growing up respectively. Ugly is a negative word that puts down somebody like criticism. While beautiful is positive, if you tell it to somebody ugly, it is terrible sugar coating and a patronizing lie.

I don’t intend to change beautiful and ugly as words, how they are defined and that people should later on blindly see ugly as beautiful. But there should be a word for neither that could answer a question about somebody’s appearance and yet give positivity and self-worth. A word with no opposite like a phrase saying ‘you are you.’ Because saying ‘you are not you' will not make sense anymore unlike saying ‘you are beautiful' and ‘you are not beautiful' or yes, ‘you are ugly.’

Language inevitably evolves. Slangs become standard and so on. Vocabulary expands and not just English.

Will *youful, *meful and *weful pass as fitting? Do you have something else in mind? Tell me. Let us spread the word.

First posted on Medium March 3, 2017

Superman

I am a man some say as multi-talented, a man of passion, creativity, and someone who has an eye and hand for art.
I get inspiration from people that come to my life whether they stay or not, experiences, and especially emotions that drive my mind and body into action.
I adapt myself to where I am and who I’m with, and radiate from there the mood that embodies me to do something I’m already capable of and also do things I’m about to discover that I could.
I love music, from classical music like opera especially tenor, jazz, pop, rock, alternative, R&B, any music as long as they’re really music to the ears and are appealing.
I also love reading, more on general psychology books and some novels.
I sing, I draw, paint, poetic at times, I dance a lot more like crazy, do gardening, take photos and really do whatever my motivation makes me.
Like what James Dean has quoted,


Dream as if you’ll live forever.
Live as if you’ll die today.
-- James Dean


For me, to be able to do everything or anything, it always comes to a point wherein you sit down, breathe, reminisce and realize that behind all what you could do, there are people in the background that inspire you like your family, friends and especially someone you share your intimacy and affection.
Someone you love, someone who whispers to you feelings of love, someone who touches you within.
Someone who even hurts you yet you forgive.
Someone who gets hurt by you yet stays and yes you are forgiven.


Love is an act of endless forgiveness,
a tender look which becomes a habit.
-- Peter Ustinov


Someone who laughs with you and share fun with, even though how shallow.


Anyone can be passionate,
but it takes real lovers to be silly.
-- Rose Franken


Yes, I may be a man who could do innumerable things like Superman, a superman in my own capabilities and in my own weaknesses.
But without somebody who puts meaning to my existence, I’ll be like an anonymous painting admired but unknown.
I may have numerous quests in life but to find the essence of my heart is what I truly desire.
Someone who would be there through good and bad times, someone who simply knows you very well from how you eat, how you laugh like a hyena, how you smell, even fart and knows how terrible you are but doesn’t mind.
Someone you go to bed with, be comfortable and cuddle, say your goodnight, your words of I love you, go to sleep and have somebody beside you the whole cold night.
Someone who you’ll wake up with a kiss and say to yourself, yes, oh yes I am Superman.

Leov

You walk across the street towards me
Like a massive wind to command the sea
To strike me
Cover me

Drown me in an ocean of liquor
To bring forth sirens out to allure me
Be enticed by voices crooning to possess me

Directing your voice to cantillate to my ears
Like a roaring lion claiming my heart
That will make me shed tears for you in hunger

Hunger that only you can content
An eternal craving hounding for your presence
To make love with my naked body
With my naked heart and soul

Desiring for your warmth
To have you pressed against my frail flesh
Feel your boldness
Your passion
Feel you

You drive my mind shattered when you are away
Wanting you close
Wanting your love
Needing you
For I love you.

A Love Poem; September 11, 2005, Sunday, 11:15 PM

Dream

Still asleep, covered with warm woolen blanket, I dream. Comfortable as it seems but unknowingly flooded. I hardly can see for everywhere is blur that surrounds me. I feel this pain stabbing me. Who do I see? Who do I see? Nothing! I see nothing. But I feel them. Blood dripping down my skin, coming out my flesh, draining down my soul and air so unseen, I couldn’t reach. I felt the ground, very cold it is. I tried grasping it figuring out where I am. It was solid and white. I reckoned they were marbles. As I opened my eyes wide, I saw this bright light from afar. But it gets farther, farther and farther until I could barely see it, it was gone. I felt terrified. Using the strength left in me, I tried standing up. I stood. My wounds are gone. No sign of tormented body showed my eyes. I’m renewed. I ran. Running on endless marbles, I could already see clearly the details of each tile. They were beautiful. I stopped and desired to feel the ground again. I felt like I’m lying on clear water. It was like floating at darkness on blank wide space visible in the dark. I heard a voice. I stood and focused where it’s coming from. I saw this image, a maiden standing not too far from me. Her voice calls my name, over and over again, again and again. I couldn’t recognize her. I thought that I know her for she knows me. As I blinked my eyes to clear my sight, I saw trees, I saw clouds, mountains, flowers, all around a wide plain of green grass that now was where I am. Darkness was gone. Her, she’s right next to me on her knees. Dressed up like an angel, a face like an angel, of a voice so fine that calls my name like an angel. Very astonishing she is. She held my face and blew the strands of hair covering me. She looked at me like she was reading every detail of who I am. She smiled and walked away. I stood at once and followed her, but she was too far now. I felt weak seeing her gone. I closed my eyes trying to recall everything about her. She is so beautiful, so beautiful and someone to long for. As I opened my eyes, I am awake. Dawn was breaking by then. I quit my bed and proceeded outside to feel the morning breeze and to eye the morning sky. It was pure bliss that embraced me that life is being bestowed. As I looked around, I all of a sudden felt lacking something. It was someone. Someone that had became a piece of me. It was her, she that had appeared in my dream that showed me affection and revived me from solitude. She that made me feel loved and to love. She is a vision, an astounding one. Destiny. Every now and then, that dream of mine became a quest. Every time I surrender down my body to sleep, I pray that she would show up again and continue the journey in that paradise I once saw. Now, the dream was gone, for it is now real. The quest was over. For at last I already found her. The only question now is, will she remember me? Every time I see her I feel complete and renewed just like in that dream. I hope she’ll remember. I hope she’ll like me, just as she held me there in that paradise I ever sought. I hope you will, for she was you.

A Love Letter; February 19, 2003, Wednesday

Letting Go

It was dark when I entered my room. Windows closed and no single light from the lights outside could enter. Not even a single sound, I hear nothing. The silence was so loud and made everything I imagined hearing comes audible. It scared me and made me feel so empty. I went to my bed and lit the candle near reach to it. I pulled a box from under. I closed my eyes as I pulled up a letter under stacks and as I opened it, tears fell down my eyes. My hands came trembling from the hold of the letter. It melted my heart. As I read by the lines, it killed me softly little by little. Memories passed my mind. They came ravishing like storm and made me feeling cold and unprotected. As I lain down, a warmth love covered me. She was there brushing my hair by her caring hands. She bended forward and whispered words that crushed my heart feeling the longing and emptiness. She said, “I love you… I love you with all my heart. Please let me go, let me go, let me go.” She held me so tight I couldn’t breathe. She kissed me goodbye and disappeared. I cried, cried with all my heart, with all my thoughts, with all I am. As I looked up my window, it was open. Letting light to come in, letting the wind touch me, touching me gently like it was her. I closed my eyes and said, “I love you… I love you with all my heart. I’m letting you go, I’m letting you go, I’m letting you go… Goodbye.”

Short Story Writing in Class; November 21, 2002, Thursday, 9:30-11:00 AM