"there must be a thousand things you would die for... i can hardly think of two..."

i could hardly think of two. really. or maybe just two. family and friends.

i'd be hard pressed to say i'd die for my country. i probably won't even let my skin be scratched for my country. and though, yes, i say my piece for the philippines, sometimes it just becomes an oft-repeated lip service.

then i go to conspi and i encounter people who take to the streets to protest acts that are not even directed at them. i go to uncle tats to play billiards with people who work day in day out to better the living conditions of farmers. i listen to my dad trying to find ways to make things better for people who don't deserve to be given the time of day. and i watch my mom work with different organizations for the poor, the marginalized, and at the same time run a school for preschool kids who can't afford the skyrocketing tuition fees of private schools.

i think about my job and my other activities. damn. am i really my parents' daughter?

i am sheltered in my comfort zone. i work in makati for a company that... never mind that. i wake up thinking i'd take part in something worthwhile, but i'm too lazy. it takes too much effort. so i turn over and sleep some more.

i avoid looking at squatter areas, and when i do, it's often with a derogatory comment or two. sure there are those who have money but squat anyways. but what of those who don't have a penny to their name?

i avoid looking at kids who beg, thinking their parents and the government should be the ones doing something. why should i bother?

and i feel disgusted at myself. but not enough to do anything.

i write this post and i feel enough fire and passion to start doing something and yet, it's too hot out.*

i wonder if i will find anything outside of friends and family that i'd be willing to die for. i hope i do. and i hope it won't be too late.

*pay me no mind. just thinking out loud.