The Season of Love

Hurray! It's the “season of love”. Call up the bands and all the music-loving and fun-loving Filipinos. It's time to liven up the park. Let's celebrate love. And the best way to do it is to let go of yourself. Love the one you're with. Kiss the person beside you. Drink the wine while it is warm. Live like it's the only day you will ever live.

What comes afterward is the individual's problem. The producers and endorsers have to make money first. What people do after that is not what motivates the party coordinators to call them in the first place. What people become after they have had wild fun is not really that important to business.

Love is for sale. It is as much a commodity as shampoo and toothpaste. I give you something; you pay me. You come to my party; you buy my product. You want a good time; do what I tell you.

In fact, if you want a kiss, brush your teeth first. Be a good kid. Loosen up. Even lose yourself, if you dare. Live on the edge. Fall if you want to.

Love then becomes nothing but a word. It becomes nothing but a feeling that must be expressed physically. It becomes an action that requires a parallel action or it will not be consummated. It becomes a mantra -- no, a god -- that will lead millions to offer their souls to dissipation and despair.

For what do you expect to gain when you have given nothing? The money you paid to partake of the world's glamour and glitter brought you what it could buy: fun. And fun that can be bought is of no real value. And love that can be had for a few pesos is not real love.

Love that comes only once a year is not worth calling love. The real word for it is LUST. Love you show to show off is not love. The real word for it is PRIDE.

Love requires giving that part of you that no one else can see but you and God. And because we refuse to see it, we devalue ourselves and demean our bodies.

Hence, those who follow the call of the flesh do not mind falling for it. They live for the moment when they could satisfy their carnal desires. They may not even have to be immoral; they only need to be mesmerized by the music that makes them act like zombies awakened from their aimless slumber. No better than prostitutes, they sell their bodies and souls to a god of oblivion. In their ignorance, they forget the God in heaven.

And so, those who claim they serve the true God and yet partake of this farce, are no better than the greedy merchandisers of fun themselves. Yes, they have faith -- so they say -- and worship God when they are not leading people astray. But most of the time, they serve Mammon and themselves.

This too will come to pass. People will get tired of partying. They will settle down to Holy Week's season of passion and meditation. They will search their empty souls. And find nothing. They will keep on searching... and searching.

But not for long. Summer will find them in the beaches and the dance floors cavorting and wriggling once more to the music, yet now with almost nothing to cover their bodies. And even less to cover their shameless souls.

(Not even toothpaste to freshen their parched breath bellowing from their sex-inflamed souls.)

And throughout all of these, love remains the product on display -- no, the medium of exchange.

Cupid is a cute guy to many, even to kids. However, cupidity is an ugly word. It sounds so much like stupidity.

(Photo above: A hungry monkey waits for food from travellers along the road to Subic Bay, Zambales. Sweet treats and other fancy delicacies attract even animals to seek food away from their natural habitat. Hence, it is prohibited to feed these straying monkeys. Besides, they say it's dangerous to feed them. Yes, dangerous to their health! )