You misunderstood him again

Sen. Robin Padilla is deeply misunderstood. I agree. More misunderstood than Rizal. Bigger than Emilio Aguinaldo. Aguinaldo had clarity compared to Robin.

When he called the youth “weak,” he was merely challenging them. Like a loving uncle who threw you in the pool to teach you how to swim. Sure, you’re drowning, but it is an amazing lesson.

I once saw a barbell cry. Nobody was lifting it. It felt neglected. Therefore, it became weak. Like jellyfish. No bones. Plop-plop-plop. But it still survives. Very successful species.

Weak is a word. Soft. Melt in your mouth. We have many words. Some are strong words. Some are gluten-free. Society right now? Very almond milk. Back in the day, milk fought back. You had to wrestle it out of the cow.

When the old were young, they said they felt bad, went outside. Kicked something. A rock. A can. Sometimes the wrong person. Not recommended. But movement! Amazing movement. Now? “I’m depressed.”

Now, I’m crying. I’m very emotional about it. Because I feel weak. Delicate. Gay. And Senator Robin doesn’t like that. He doesn’t want me to be weak. He wants me strong. Stoic. Possibly shirtless on a horse.

My being weak is embarrassing the country. I didn’t know that until the senator helped me discover it. Thank you. When you see things, you don’t ask “Is it real?” Ask whether it is useful. You’re welcome.

The uncomfortable part: when Mr. Robin said “weak,” a lot of people reacted in a way that kind of proved his point. We were like, “Sir, can you insult us more gently?” We say we want strong leaders. Then someone speaks bluntly. If you crumble over rhetoric, how do you handle real pressure?

Senator Padilla is strong. Very strong. Incredible strength. You can almost hear the push-ups in the debates when he talks. Incredible biceps in every argument.

He was elected by millions. Millions. Very big numbers. I love numbers. Some people don’t like numbers, very sensitive about them. And when millions choose a man, that’s vibration. Like when you open the ref at 2 a.m. and the light comes on and you feel judged. Same thing.

You dismiss him, you dismiss the millions. And millions are like rice in a sack. You kick the sack, the rice flies everywhere. Then who’s weak? The rice? Or the guy slipping on it?

A million votes are never accidental. Like a flock of pigeons choosing one statue to poop on. Democracy chose the statue. You don’t yell at the pigeon. Well, you can, but it won’t listen. It’s a pigeon.

Filipinos are weak. You look at them and you see people still getting up, holding families together on minimum wage. Weak citizens don’t line up for hours just to vote. Maybe tired, but not weak. Tired is what happens when you keep trying.

If they’re weak, why do they keep forgiving leaders? And then agree on something really strong: Robin Padilla as Sara Duterte’s Vice President?

Robin’s gotta be Sara’s whey protein. You mix it with water, it becomes governance. The flag gets abs. It sits up straighter. It doesn’t want to look weak.