Age and Experience Can Mellow People

Every time I revisit the eLf ideas newsletters that I used to make and distribute in the late 90s and reread what I had written in those days, I can still smile at the ideas I was able to churn out at that age and with having no formal background in writing; however, I now usually find myself blushing in shame at the way I brusquely expressed many ideas and views—often arrogant, couldn't-care-less, lots of neologisms, verbose rather than eloquent, flamboyant rather than precise.

I even remember declaring in one article: "This is my literary world, and you are just my platypi. I can do whatever I want; I can write whatever I think of. You can't do anything but read."

That now triggers goose bumps on my nape. The arrogance of youth. The "I am an anarchist" stage of life!

But, age and experience can really mellow people.

I'm glad I was given the chance to work in a publishing company such as Diwa Scholastic Press Inc., where I realized that—more than expressing my views and "brilliant ideas" and writing with a bit intent of impressing—being able to communicate feelings and concern and knowledge in the most subtle and compromising way most often hits the goal.

I hope that I have really mellowed down and had rather become calmer and more patient: no longer shoving, instead suggesting; expressing, not impressing, contributing, not monopolizing; clarifying, not concluding; offering, not imposing; and accepting and considerate, no longer rejecting and indifferent.

I hope that the "Fuck you!" and “I don't care what people say" rebel days have all been really gone.

Wency Cornejo was right after all: "You can't be so radical...."

Lastly, I remember myself back those carefree days—whenever a jeepney or tricycle driver wouldn't give my fifty-centavo change, I would really flare up and confront the equally flared-up guy just to get my well-deserved change, ignoring the possibility of myself getting hit with a pipe at the least.

Now, caught in the same situation—I would rather simply smile and walk away, believing that the hardworking driver most likely deserves the fifty-centavo better than I deserve it and avoiding the possibility of a senseless death.

- May 6, 2004, Thursday; Surrey, British Columbia, Canada
(While listening to "Next in Line" by After Image [Touch the Sun; 1992, Dyna Products])