I made this blog because I wanted something to pour my serious thoughts into. That’s why I put an extra effort to conceive an appropriate name and come up with another blog where I can dump my nonsense brain shit (the bananaman). Call it symptomatic of a split personality, but I don’t care since so far, I have been able to successfully separate the two sides of me whenever I face this blog.
I just hope I can do the same in the real world.
I have always been known as a sunny, cheerful, happy-go-lucky guy, who would rather engage in nonsense fun-filled conversations instead of being preoccupied with sensible yet boring things. I easily get suffocated in any dead-serious atmosphere and I always shy away from any formal activities like ceremonies, which I find too tiresome, predictable and, well, boring.
I can provide anyone a lesson in mindless meaningless monologues about anything under the sun or in the worlds beyond. I am the usual “adik” or “lugaw” whose scatterbrain provide an instant case study for any psychologist interested in the workings of the human mind - or the lack thereof. I am the clown that provides easy and free entertainment for anyone.
As a good friend, I am more than happy to be of such service. But as a person with some dignity to protect, I want to think otherwise.
The problem with being not so serious is that people naturally won’t take me seriously, despite my futile protestations that I be looked at straight in the eyes. Yes, I do talk about serious things, but I do it in a “less serious” way; in the back of my mind, taking some pressure off always helps. But in the end, anything I say or do always comes out as a joke to them.
It is insulting, really, to be treated like that damn boy who cried wolf. Hindi naman sa lahat ng oras ay nagbibiro ako. It doesn’t help that these people who laugh with you when you’re joking are the same people who laugh at you when you’re already not. And they are the ones you supposedly call “close friends.”
It is insulting, because being a joke means my believability is next to nil. When fiction is better than me in make-believe’s, I lose credibility. When I lose that very thing, down goes with it is the respect of the people around me. Respect is earned, and some people just won’t give me any.
It doesn’t help that I am not really equipped with the appropriate training to feign a serious look. The glowing aura around me just won’t go away to give way for that gloomy crestfallen condition. I was never good in dramatic antics; having that emotional hairtrigger to shift from happy to dull. My face has this stupid smile plastered on since time immemorial.
Being a human just like everyone else, I believe I deserve to be accorded with the same serious treatment and respect whenever I start thinking, speaking and/or acting like one. It isn’t that hard to do, I think.
When a clown takes off his makeup, it means his performance is already over. He’s human after all - capable of getting hurt, lonely and tired. At least give him his due.
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