Hunger

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Gutom = Hunger

I thought I’d post this entry while it’s fresh from my asshole. I’d probably forget about it when I resurrect from my beauty sleep tomorrow.

I know it’s Valentine’s Day where I live and I’m supposed to be keeping an eye out on my email accounts, landline and mobile phone for a man who will wine, dine and buy me something from Cartier on the last minute.

However, hunger striked again and I had no choice but to raid the larder for a midnight snack.

I grabbed a Gatorade, a bag of Lays and some high-voltage salsa before going to my mom’s room. My mom is the ultimate partner in crime when it comes to my binge-eating sins.

She told me to stay and watch this documentary about a reporter who chose to live the day-to-day life of a starving citizen of the land of the brown, l’exotique and the natives and provide an in-depth perspective on how they survive in these hard times.

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She specifically said "I hope you think twice before reaching out for your credit card when you buy another Chanel bag."

"Great," I thought.

I’m gonna have another social awareness lesson from a mad woman who once said some of the people in my country are similar to poultry because of their inability to stop producing a shitload of offspring in spite of their economic conditions. I have to give the woman some credit… it’s the truth, whether you like it or not.

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Anyway, the reporter met this 28 year old married man with 8 kids. He decided it would be best to spend an entire day with him. The man lives in the shanty with no electricity etc.

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He sells empty plastic bottles on the street for a living. He can’t even afford transportation… he walks more than 5 kilometers to go to the market to sell his bottles.

He also has to make at least US$2.50 a day in order to provide 1 meal for his wife and 8 kids which consists of a kilo of rice and a can of sardines. That’s their entire meal for the day.

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1 can of sardines = 10 human beings

Most of the time, he doesn’t even make that US$2.50. So what they do is just buy rice… and some salt. If you think that’s awful, wait till you read this: there are days when he doesn’t make any money AT ALL.

The following day, the reporter went to another area where he met a man who has 13 kids. You read that right.

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His plight is similar to the first man. Too many kids, too little money/food.

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He even thought of turning into crime for a fast buck… but he hated the idea of doing so because it would be terrible for the kids if he went to jail.

He was literally in tears when he was being interviewed.

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At that point, I think I’ve seen enough.

I had an enormous lump in my throat whilst watching the drama of people at the bottom of the…. to say "food chain" would be an overstatement cause they HAVE LIMITED ACCESS TO FOOD.

In an effort to lift my spirits up, I suddenly thought that it might be therapeutic if ALL of the world’s anorexics and bullemics move to Las Islas Filipinas.

But alas, the lump in my throat didn’t go away.

It really made me think how BLESSED I am to be in the position where I’m in…

And I’m not just saying that so I’ll look good in YOUR eyes.

My gut says that you probably think I really don’t give a flying fuck about these rodents who doesn’t know when to stop fucking a vagina.

Don’t worry, I won’t take it against you personally if that’s what/how you think.

To the uninitiated… or to the Bryanboy.com newbie, my little narcissistic shrine has always been a tribute to me, myself and I, my love affair for all things fabulous, luxurious, hedonistic… my love for travel, shopping, handbags, designer goods, my never-ending quest for acceptance from others and of course, my vain and pathetic attempts to looking good.

A lot of people wonder whether I give to charity because "all I do"  (which, in my books, mean = all they SEE or all I WANT THEM to SEE) is have fun.

In my opinion, the point of giving to charity is to support the charity’s cause… voluntarilty, discreetly and something that comes from the heart.

I don’t understand the need to publicize or to tell anyone whenever I donate to charity. Private acts of kindness need not to be shown or told to anyone.

I REPEAT: TRUE GENEROSITY DOESN’T NEED TO BE SHOWN TO EVERYONE.

Perhaps I’ll publicize, yes, in my own circle, if, for example, I (or they) need support… fundraising events etc.

What do you want me to do… go around telling I donated this, I donated that? That’s ridiculous. Only people who run in public office do that.

Moving on…

At this point, I’m not even gonna point fingers and play the blame game as to who the culprit is. The damage is already here. There are people starving and they need help.

Don’t ask me for a solution either. My mere 2 brain cells is not capable of thinking something for the long-term.

I’ll be honest: thinking about eradicating poverty gives me rashes and hemorrhoids.

I AM NOT A GOOD SAMARITAN NOR I AM MOTHER THERESA.

I TAKE PRIDE IN THE FACT THAT I AM A SELFISH, POMPOUS ASSHOLE WHO WOULD RATHER LIVE MY LIFE THE WAY THAT I WANT BECAUSE MY LIFE IS MY LIFE. MY HAPPINESS IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN OTHERS. THERE IS NO OTHER INDIVIDUAL IN THIS PLANET WHO CAN MAKE ME HAPPY, SATISFIED, CONTENTED AND FULFILLED OTHER THAN MYSELF.

But as someone who, UNFORTUNATELY, have luck on his sides (thanks to his ridiculous antics and vulgar mind) to empower people, the best that I can offer at this point is AWARENESS.

Afterall, proper awareness can ignite something big… something that can benefit others instead of ourselves.

That doesn’t mean we should stop buying Chloe clothes or Yves Saint Laurent accessories. I know that’s what I did earlier this afternoon.

Shit, with everything that I said above, I should run for Miss fucking World 2006.

I’m sure I’d get the crown.

Email bryanboy@gmail.com or SMS +63-915-785-1492.

I love you all.

Baboosh!