Rare Beneath

The Antichrist is an occurrence.  It is an event of such magnitude that it sweeps millions of people into a state of severe diabolical resistance to God’s saving grace.

The Antichrist is not a specter of the future.  It’s here.  Now.  It isn’t a ghost.  And it has a name.

An anti-christ is literally the antithesis of the Messiah.  Where Jesus is love, the antichrist is… not.  Where Jesus is compassion, the antichrist is… not. 

It isn’t hatred.  It isn’t violence.  It isn’t anything that shows emotion.  But it is powerful.  It holds millions in its relentless grip.  Yet, those it holds neither whines nor screams.  It’s victims aren’t even aware of it’s debilitating presence.

Apathy.  A.k.a. indifference.

"I don’t care if you do anything bad, just don’t do it to me."

"I don’t care if you’re hurt.  I’m not."

"I don’t care if my friend looks like a bitch in heat, it’s her life."

"I don’t care if my cousin’s drowning himself in beer, it’s what he wants."

"I don’t care that my best friend is a drug user, he’ll get over it someday."

"I don’t care about the world, it doesn’t care about me."

"I don’t care about God, He isn’t real."

Sounds familiar?

If you’re looking for the Antichrist in personas similar to Hitler, try looking for it in places nearer to your heart.

I love being anonymous sometimes.  Like in public places, especially during rush hour when a lot of people are on the road, in jeepneys or buses or railways, or walking; it makes me feel free and oddly secure.  The one big wave of people crossing the pedestrian lane, all at the same time… it’s probably one of the few things even vaguely similar to having a "Filipino unity".  It makes me feel as if I’m home around so many strangers.  We all have different places to go, problems to solve, lives to live; but we’re all crossing just that one pedestrian lane, all at the same time.  It’s beautiful when you think about it.

Just today, I was riding a jeepney and there was this kid in front of me, licking his ice cream clean.  It was such an ordinary thing, but the very familiarity of it made me smile.  Maybe because the kid didn’t care what the sullen and gloomy grown-ups in the jeepney thought about him, he just wanted to enjoy his ice cream.  It was a completely uninhibited act, so refreshing, and so beautiful.

Then there are the young lovers you’ll never fail to notice.  In the MRT, when all the seats are taken and people have to stand and use one hand to hold on to the nearest metal post, young lovers will always have the other hand holding each other.  They’d find a way.  Of course, they all have different stories, but that one act of connection is universal. 

There are so many beautiful people all around us.  It amazes me sometimes.  It doesn’t matter how they look, there is always this fascinating kind of beauty that cannot be distinguished through facial features.  This may sound like a cliche, but it’s the kind of beauty that emanates from within and is unique in everyone of us.

These are ordinary events, you can even call them ordinary people.  But when you look closer, everything is beautiful.  Though you can smell the polluted smoke from various vehicles or get a whiff of the stench of garbage here and there; there’s still that intangible clean layer underneath the grime.  There are persons, humans, you, me… and their beauty never ends or disappears.