Burning Love

There are a bunch of things that have been going on that I'd like to mention in the next few days or so, but most important of these, of course, is BlueREP's run of All Shook Up, which ended last Sunday. Ten weeks of staying after school, rehearsing, going home late and lots of other shit in between have finally culminated in seven performances, two of which suffered major power outages in the RMT, one of the worst performance spaces in the Ateneo, leading to an empowered cast finishing two goddamned shows in complete darkness. Nobody messes with our finale!

But by the curtain call -- and this deserves mention as well -- the audience were waving their cellphones around and it was kind of a pretty sight on both shows, though the second time the power blew inside the theater was more annoying than euphoric. But anyway, we finished all the shows, and I had the best time. Playing Sheriff Earl, a character who singlehandedly overthrows an oppressive regime without singing so much as a few lines from "Can't Help Falling in Love," was an honor beyond anything I can describe. I hope I get to go onstage again in the future.

In the meantime, what I have learned thus far from my superiors, friends, and random knowledgeable people I've met along the way deserves the utmost taking into heart -- that story-telling is not about the performer so much as the people for whom the story is told; that it is not about taking a break from reality by acting happy, or sad, or angry, as much as being able to reach out to absolutely anyone, making him or her realize that he or she might not be alone in the world after all, and there are others who feel just as happy, or sad, or angry.

And most important, I now think, for whatever in the world that one decides to do is, to quote a song which now means a lot more than I ever imagined, "a hunka hunka burnin' love." May humanity never lose that capacity to love truly and burning-ly, whatever festering hellhole into which it decides to plunge.