Little acts of good and evil (Part II)

People may go astray once in a while, such an act is never beyond us. Darling, I’m telling you you’ll never know. Look, Meryl Streep in Bridges of Madison County did it. Julianne Moore in the End of the Affair did it. Juliette Binoche in The Unbearable Lightness of Being did it. Hardly angels, yes, but Heather Locklear (in the context of her character in Melrose Place) they’re not! They have apposite qualities that we can relate to. Loneliness, insecurity, feelings of love and not of carnal desire, all of these sort of but not really validate the acts of the infidel. Nevertheless, it pardons them from the moral gas chamber. They don’t get chucked, they simply live a life sentence being racked with guilt. I told you, it’s a gray area. To forgive such an act when you are the aggrieved party is a magnanimous thing. It’s not about being a martyr. Its about understanding the lapses that the human being is capable of.

There are the black and whites in moral code. Never kill, steal, assault children, voluntarily choosing to wear a brown belt with black shoes, etc. Whatever reason you come up with for committing such a crime will be as weak as an antibiotic past its expiration date. In between the poles of goodness and evil, there is the hazy sea of questionable rectitude. It’s having a qualified reason for doing such an act or deciding on such a choice that makes a doubtful selection sail nearer towards the shore of goodness but, mind you, it’s still not right. To understand that life is not perfect, we have to at least strive to be near perfect. Understanding and accepting our weaknesses sanctifies us and saves us from living a bitter life.

I am a flawed person. If I were a diamond, I’d be a Russian. I am more interested in Claudine Barretto’s love life than Lacson’s crimes. I curse like it was a prayer. I lie to Muslim pearl merchants in Greenhills to get a 20 percent discount. I steal cigarettes from friends. I think the best thing about winter are the fur coats. I always think that the grass is greener on the other side. I have suicidal thoughts when I have nothing to wear. I pretend to laugh at lousy jokes, thus encouraging the unfortunate jester to embarrass himself further. I always go over my credit card limit. I flake on lunches with friends because Hihintayin Kita Sa Langit is on Cinema One. I always think I have the biggest problems in the world. I love dirty jokes and I admire people capable of committing naughty crimes. I spend an inappropriate amount of money on useless things when I can give the money to charity instead. And I really was more sad when Princess Diana died than when Mother Teresa passed away.

However, I think I do enough good stuff to keep myself from feeling like a complete failure and chugging down a cocktail of bleach and Baygon to end my wayward life. I tip waiters fairly. I never ever abuse anybody’s kindness. I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. I admit to my mistakes and grieve. I hold no judgment against unconventional people. And when someone is wearing a nasty outfit, I try to keep my thoughts to myself (though I have to sometimes download my appalled feeling to my confidantes). I don’t go to church but I pray every single night. I respect people and I never think I’m above anything or anyone. I try to treat everyone fairly. And I never voluntarily choose to wear a brown belt with black shoes (it’s not a pitiful but more of a painful sight really). Undoubtedly, the people who go to church and find dirty jokes appalling will have a first-class ticket to heaven. For now, I think I just have enough mileage to earn a coach ticket to heaven. Nevertheless, I’ll just try to keep getting better. After all, I love the champagne in first class.