-- BELIEVE --

That is the question. Often asked, always answered, however never truthfully... at least when it comes to body size. In an age where slimming down comes in a pill, machine or health club membership, people end up asking themselves, "How big is too big?"

Just recently, a friend showed me a pill which promises to cut one's appetite in order to slim down. I was unable to hide my interest. Last week alone, 4 people asked if I was pregnant since I had been putting on weight. Well what does one say to that? I had choices racing through my mind. "No, I certainly wish so, but that was very impolite of you to ask that to my face" or "There's another way to ask that politely, if you try to go with the flow of thinking, which I know is a new thing for you" or just simply, "teka, close ba tayo?" Heheheh. I hate being so polite. The weakling in me just smiled and said, "hindi, tumataba lang." Grrr.

Anyway there I was, intrigued by this pretty expensive, prescription-only pill, the effects of which can be compared to a very powerful and prohibited stimulant - "meth." Your appetite is drastically reduced, you feel like doing a lot of stuff and being productive, some find difficulty sleeping at night, still others complain of upset stomachs. But to those really desperate for "intervention" (as my friend reffered to it), these are but mere inconveniences. She and her husband have been trying it for weeks now and the kilos are dropping. They could only wish it would stay that way long after they've "quit" the drug.

While I was lost in the dizzying pace of their weight loss, I pondered on the odds of them getting back out of shape. And it isn't too far off. These are the folks who think that potato chips and candy bars can be eaten at any time of the day, even for their infant children. That fruits and vegetables are either a figment of imagination or some alien substance eaten only in other galaxies. Their side-by-side fridge loaded to the brink with ice cream and coca-cola. They refer to potato chips and other junk food as "valium" to keep the kids quiet, but in the same breath bemoan that the kids sometimes are too hard to handle, with one of them finding it a hobby to hit other kids (my own daughter is his personal favourite).

Nah, I thought to myself. I better not try it. As much as I've got a control and addiction issue, I don't think there really is a "short cut" to a worthwhile goal. If I am to slim down, I should re-assess and reformulate habits, curb my own perception of health and the most important thing, well, you guessed it -- enforce more control and pass up on the addiction. Thank God it's only chocolates this time around.

Before my family left for this Underworld, I manually copied onto a blank sheet of paper "The Amazing 20-minute work-out" which I got from the Reader's Digest. I remember in the Philippines, despite the stress of working for television news, I made it a point to do this "work-out" at home every single day. And I remember it felt great. The feel of hot sweat trickling down my body, the rhythm of muscles stretching and relaxing and the added energy it gave me throughout the day. I just wish one of these days I get the guts to take that paper off our bulletin board and start sweating once more. Gotta get up and get it done.

At least I've accepted it. Life, with all its glory, love and beauty, can never be without lies. It's as essential as air sometimes, that you're never fully aware you've immersed in it. It's the lifestyle you project but can hardly afford. The "Good Morning! How are you?" to that self-important old neighbor you got who you'd really rather give the finger than greet. The "twing" sound in your instant messaging when a person who really means nothing to you strikes up a conversation and you try to seem happy to hear from him/her. The diet cola and salad you eat when you're body screams out for a big fat sloppy burger. The pictures you send out to everyone or post on the Net to depict a happy and successful you when the only emotion you have while doing your mechanical boring job is insecurity. Yes, it transcends the superficial everyday and encompasses the very philosophy of your being. It is inevitable.

I remember back in 1995, I used to wear a cardboard name plate with the word "LIAR" pinned to my college uniform. It was part of initiation rites into the (supposedly) prestigious Communication Arts' Students Association, and since I was going to be taking CA as my major, well, might as well jump in all its crap tradition. (It's a whole new chapter to discuss how this field of studies had nothing to arm me up when the "real" life began.) Anyway, we were asked to choose a single word to describe ourselves, and wear that word to the University everyday. While others chose "friendly," "cute," "hard" and even "horny," I was even then a self-proclaimed "liar." Who knows, all of us could very well be telling the truth. But it was the observation of my Philosophy and Logic professor that did it for me. He asked how one can be certain if I am indeed a liar. Because a person who calls himself a liar isn't exactly to be believed or trusted. To that I only replied, "Precisely."

We can all be who we want to be, or lead ourselves and others to believe we are. But that shouldn't take the magic out of life. The mystery out of our persona. You and I should be free to accept that we are and at the same time, we are not who we are.