After too many days of incessant rain, one misses the sunlight. Though rain, of itself, is also quite nice. But the grayness can be quite depressing. This, and things like the mud that creeps over floors, the coldness of water when you bathe; but really, just the bone-heavy lethargy of it, that pall which casts over everything needing to be done. We are like tortoise. When it has been too cold for too long and the sun has been off like a busted lightbulb, life begins to drag on. We become sluggish and slow.
And we have much work to do today. This is not the right weather for things going back to where they were before Christmas, last year. And the new year had brought with it many resolutions that now need some sort of follow up. The world continues, rain or shine and however we may feel right at this very moment. Life continues. This cold is only momentary, transitory and impermanent. Better to boil more water for another cup and get done this deadline. But what to write about when inside this wet and cold?
Listen, this weather is only metaphor. And it is only metaphor for the cyclic nature of all that is about us. A few weeks ago we were worrying about drought and how the water levels were going dangerously low. There was the threat of water-rationing. And the heat was unbearable. This, along with the oppressive humidity that kept us awake at night and we could do nothing else but try to sleep. Did we consider keeping a bottle of whiskey at home for those nights? And what now? Now we down a bottle of wine for no reason at all besides to keep us warm through the cold nights. The weather is not there to serve us, and neither, the world in general.
It is not up to us personally to decide whether to go into dark or enlightened times. There is too much ignorance all around, even our own, and we cannot blame the ignorant entirely for it. History moves on its own volition and we can never answer for the mob. They will choose as they must. It does not matter how clearly it shows that their choices will carry all of us into another dark age. We can only take the world as it comes and try to make the best of it.
And so when we are asked: What difference will it make if he does declare martial law? We are at odds to answer. Especially if the person who is asking never really knew what truly went on in the time of Marcos’ martial law. We cannot presume everyone remembers how many people were tortured or made to disappear during those times. Nor can we presume that everyone understands or values such things as the rule of law, or the writ of habeas corpus, or the inherent right of people to protest. Some people find the act of protesting social wrongs absolutely alien. Some value only obedience and leaving their fates up to others. Others may suffer through another age of martial law. But not them. They will be left alone. Because they have resolved not to do anything about it when it does come.
But this weather, this weather, despite the dreariness of it, carries with it also inevitable hope. This is only metaphor for all the forces of the universe, especially history. In due time, perhaps even tomorrow, the sun will rise again. And there will not be the heavy clouds we see now to block out the light. Every dark age ends. Even this.
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