With the blogosphere as HUGE as it is, even getting 10 regular readers is a taxing task. Many bloggers give up easily (like me, before) and lose many opportunities. What they don’t know is that cyberspace is very much like the real world, and the phrase “Stumble seven times, get up eight” very much applies. If you’re a struggling blogger, remember these tips.

Recognize your passion for writing

Of course, bloggers have got to have some sort of passion for writing. Blogging, after all, was originally conceived as a sort of online journal–not a moneymaking, link-harvesting web page. The lack of a passion for the written word is quite often the root of blogger unhappiness—no matter how successful one is in blogging. If you recognize your passion for writing, this can always be your asylum. It’s okay if no one visited your blog today. Just remember: “I blog because I love to write.”

Be selfish

Okay, so your SiteMeter says that you’ve got 38 page views today. About half of those visitors stayed on one of your write-ups’ pages for around three minutes, but no one left a comment. Ouch, right? Well, when that happens, just say, “Ah. Screw them visitors. If they can’t understand what I’m saying on my blog, they’re way out of my league.” I’ve tried it a few times, and it lifted a sizeable amount of pressure off my chest.

Bask in the glory of that one comment

You’ve got this idea for a new write-up. The idea is so unique, so pristine that you’re confident that a Google Search will reveal that you’ll be the first to write about this topic. Okay, so you fire up Windows Live Writer and let your touch-typing fingers rip. Five hours later, after relentless copyreading and re-copyreading, your masterpiece is done. You hit the publish button, send an email announcing the birth of your write-up to a mailing list or two, and sit back and wait for it to rain traffic.

Unfortunately, instead of rain, there is only one commenter. No torrential rainfall. No epic cyclone. Just one dewdrop. One comment.

Now, you can look at this situation either as a glass being half-empty, or being half-full. I suggest you take the latter. Instead of saying, “Nehoo! Only one comment??!”, say “Holy crap! WAKE THE KIDS, LET’S THROW A PARTY, SOMEBODY COMMENTED ON MY BLOG!”

For the under-the-radar blogger, there is a quote that goes, “There are two kinds of people in this world: those who comment on my blog, and those who can go to hell.”

Keep writing

Maybe the reason why your blog does not have a steady readership is because prospective readers haven’t found your content interesting yet. Write, write, write—one day, you might be able to craft that post which will convert from-time-to-time readers into RSS subscribers. (If you’re lucky enough, they might even skip the RSS feed and instead they’ll read your blog on a browser. This means you’re special, in a good way!)

Oh, and here are some copywriting tips and, if you’re having trouble with words, some writing tips.

There is no white flag

You might be tempted to just throw in the towel, just raise the white flag, and offer a truce with the almighty blogging god who refuses to shower your corner of cyberspace with readership. Well, guess what: there is no towel, no white flag, and the blogging god isn’t that almighty. Giving up will just make you feel empty and unfulfilled. If you quit now, you’ll want to go back to blogging later and then you’ll have to start from scratch. Giving up is no option! NO RETREAT, NO SURRENDER.

If all else fails, switch niches

Let’s assume your running a blog competing in a niche—technology, for example. You have to accept the truth, no matter how painful it might be. Maybe your niche is just too competitive, so much so that you just can’t compete in it? Maybe you don’t have enough expertise to be consistently competitive in your niche? If so, then it is probably best to switch niches—choose something you’re comfortable with, and have expertise in.

You might consider this as sort of surrendering. (In the previous tip, I barred you from ever surrendering, right?) It is definitely not raising the white flag. Regard it as an advancement. Think of your previous niche as blogging quicksand—staying in it would’ve been fatal, but getting out of it, no matter how much effort and strength it entailed, would be beneficial to you.

There you go. I hope this provides inspiration for all distressed bloggers out there. Keep blogging!

Miley Cyrus reveals her bra. Good clean fun?

Don’t look at me, I didn’t take that picture. Turns out, this and other pictures of Miss Cyrus have been floating around the Internet (I found this on Google Image Search).

Being able to talk about it

This write-up isn’t going to be about Miley, or her lime green brassier. It’s going to be about sexuality, and the role it plays in teenage life. (Although I will be referring to the picture from time to time.)

Now, I don’t know if that picture signals sexual arousal, but it’s gotta count for something. These kinds of pictures are not at all uncommon, especially if you’re in the age range of, say, 13-15. At around this age, libido begins to stir, and we teens become more aware of that subject we call “sexuality”. In our younger years, we labeled any and all mentions of the word “sex” as taboo, but now as we become more aware of the topic, we can talk more openly about it. (No more, “Eeew, that’s gross”—except if someone says something really offending).

No, seriously. Sometimes, in school, our conversations meander to that topic. Surprisingly, we can talk about it as young adults. We can express our thoughts on the issue more openly. (Phrases such as “I don’t believe in sex before marriage” and “If I were him and I was going to have sex with multiple partners, I’d use a condom” would be heard.)

It’s not a sign of horniness or perverted thoughts. It, for me, is maturity. We can’t stay in that immature phase of our lives forever, right? As I pointed out before, a teen’s ability to talk about the matter in a mature manner means that he/she has acknowledged the reality of the issue, and that he has understood it. The disappearance of such remarks as “Yuck, why are you talking about sex?” and “I’ll tell on you! You’re talking about that!” just as well signal maturity.

The stirring of libido

It is a well-known fact that libido (sexual urge or desire) begins to stir in the teenage years. Microsoft Encarta says that around two-thirds of girls and almost all boys will have masturbated to orgasm before their teenage years come to an end. Once again, this does not mean perversion, nor does it mean that a teen will grow up to be a sex maniac. Libido is part of human nature, something that normally develops as one grows, and the emotional (as well as physical) aspect of that growth is sure to come with the onset of adolescence.

Many are inclined to think that males’ libido stir more than females’ during teenage years, as evidenced by the facts that

• Male teens are more likely to watch pornography than their female counterparts,
• Males are more likely to masturbate than females, and that
• Males talk about it more openly than females, and are usually not ashamed to do so.

I guess that the assumption regarding male and female libido is not totally false. But many people think that females’ libido does not stir at all during their teenage years. Now, being male, I cannot give a precise rebuttal to that claim, but if human nature were to be the basis for an answer, I’d say that that would be false. (If you are a female teenager, or know a female teenager, or are a parent of one, feel encouraged to comment on this post about that whole female libido thing.)

Sad to say, many teenagers have their first sexual encounter at around 15. I wrote “sad to say” because I personally believe that one should reserve him/herself for his/her spouse. I also have this personal conclusion that sex at such a young age will leave you wanting more and more, and pretty soon, things might blow up in your face. (No sexual meaning intended.) But personal convictions aside, I cannot comment on teen sex, although the words “statutory rape” do come into mind.

The role of parents

Parents are mostly hesitant to accept the fact that their teenage children are growing up and are therefore maturing sexually. This is perhaps because they want to cling onto that small, serene infant they held in their arms in yesteryears. They are not to be blamed, of course. No matter how slowly we grow up and transition into the teenage years, it all comes in a rush to them, so let’s cut the parents some slack.

Nevertheless, parents should be more open and accept the reality of sexual maturity. Did they not, after all, go through this phase as well? Alright, here are some

Tips for parents with teenage children

1. Leave the room when he/she’s changing. If your family still shares one room, and your son/daughter comes into the room after taking a bath while you’re watching TV, it should be your initiative to leave the room and allow your child to be naked without anyone staring at him. It makes us feel uncomfortable and awkward to have to be butt-naked and putting on underwear while our parents are watching CNN. We don’t tell you to leave, of course, but that’s because doing so will make us feel awkward as well.
2. Give your child his/her bathroom time. Especially if your teen is a boy. I don’t need to tell you why; see the section “The Stirring of Libido” above.
3. When he/she’s in the room with the door closed, knock before you enter. If it’s locked, don’t unlock it with your keys. Not that they’re having sex in there or anything. Just knock and say, “Can I come in?” and if they say “not now”, ask them why. If their reply is a secretively and hesitantly said “basta” (which in English roughly translates to: “just don’t…“), respect that. I forgot to mention above that the teenage years spell sexual exploration for teens, so give us some breathing space.
4. Let them have boos. In layman’s terms, a boyfriend or girlfriend. Why? because
   • It’d be a hell of a lot harder for us to get one in college and even after college;
   • It gives us a sense of independence;
   • It helps us mature emotionally;
   • We won’t freak out anymore when we have other boos later on in life.
5. Accept their choice. It is often during adolescence when people actually begin to identify their sense of self¹ and sexual preference². They begin to identify their role in society. The normal sense of self of a person would be male, for males, and female for females, and the normal sexual preference would be female for males, and male for females. However, this isn’t always the case. We are all aware of homosexuality and bisexuality. As parents, it is always best to accept your child for who they are, especially if your teenager has identified him/herself as a homosexual. Why? It is very difficult for a teen to come to terms with the fact that he/she is homosexual. It is even more difficult for a teen to tell his/her parents about it. Parents’ refusal to accept the fact as their teen has will only put more pressure on the child, and self-esteem and peer relationship problems may arise.
6. Guide them along the way. In the age of Internet discussion boards, we can get tips from so many different sources. A sizeable number of them aren’t all that credible. Thankfully, we’ve been hard-wired to think that parents always offer the best advice (and that parents will never advise against our safety), so don’t ever hesitate to give us your thoughts. You might have to approach us and not the other way around, though (especially if your teen just transitioned to adolescence recently) because there is still that awkwardness factor about the whole shebang.

Final Words

It’s no joke: teenage sexuality is a fact of life. Whether you’re a teenager, or one who’s parenting a teenager, it is imperative to understand and accept the facts of teenage sexuality. I hope this helps in some way.

What thoughts can you add to this article? Feel free to comment, or contact me.

FOOTNOTES

¹Sense of self is how a person perceives him/herself in terms of gender. Normally, a male’s sense of self would be male, and a female’s sense of self would be female. However, sometimes a male’s sense of self may be female and vice versa. This is different from sexual preference. (See FN#2)

²Sexual preference is, as I personally describe it, which gender a person is attracted to. The normal pairing would be: males’ preference is female, and females’ preference is male. This normal state is called heterosexuality. However, a male may also prefer males, and a female may also prefer females. This is called homosexuality. In other cases, a person may be attracted to both genders. This is called bisexuality.

OTHER NOTES

• Many are inclined to think that sense of self and sexual preference are always connected. This is not always the case. A male whose sense of self is female may still be attracted to females. A female whose sense of self is male may still be attracted to males. In most cases of homosexuality, a gay male (sexual preference is male) still identifies himself as male. A gay female (sexual preference is female) may still identify herself as female.
• All definitions here are my own, and I cannot guarantee their accuracy. It is better to refer to an encyclopedia, dictionary or other more merited source for the exact definitions of these terms. If you do choose to use my personal definitions in text, discussions, etc., you agree not to hold me accountable should my definitions actually be inaccurate.

I never understood womanly vanity. It seemed weird to occupy oneself with her physical appearance. The female, however, is perpetually immersed in herself. “Born staring into herself in the mirror,” I’d silently quip. Women spend twice or thrice more time in the bathroom than men; generally, women take up more closet space than men (although the opposite is true in my family); and shopping sprees take longer when a lady is involved.

It just seems so weird to try to present yourself to the public as someone different from who you really are. In an effort to make a good impression on people, you put on too much of this and too little of that, ending up actually making yourself look bad. Your skin tone is borderline abnormal, your lips are so red it looks like the skin on your mouth is one-one hundredths of a millimeter thick. Your clothes are skimpier than what is decent, so much so that a troubled middle-aged man might mistake you for a hooker.

I think it’s unnecessary, in other words. Or do I?

My mother puts on a fancy dress only once every week: Thursday, church day. She’d put on a nice blouse and decent denim skirt, wear a bracelet, maybe a hair clip if she’s feeling extra vain. That’s it. On our weekend worship service, she wears a uniform for her duties in church. That is as vain as she gets. (If you don’t count the times when she’d look at Kris Aquino‘s face on a magazine and say, “I’m going to Vicki Belo for a face lift.”)

Whenever we’d go to the mall (usually on Sunday afternoons), she would wear these just-short-enough denim shorts and some t-shirt she had printed for an anniversary of the GSIS, the government agency for which she (and dad) works. Her hair would often be a mess, and she couldn’t care less. Vanity never appeals to her. She thinks of it as useless human nature.

I think the same thing, too. But why is it that when I go to the mall with her, I cannot settle for denim shorts and a plain white shirt? I always feel the need to put on my best denim pants and the latest statement shirt from Penshoppe. Often times, in the bathroom, I stick my face to the mirror to investigate my pimples and pockmarks up close. I have even daringly put on a tad bit of powder on my face before to cover up the remnants of my once-abundant zits. (I’m not gay, in case you’re getting prejudicial.)

Human nature is what I blame for my attitude, my hypocrisy. Somewhere in that primordial goo, someone must’ve dropped something that resulted in vanity spreading far and wide across the globe. After all, even ancient civilizations were vain. Discovery Channel documented this one tribe who put enormous plates on their women’s mouths, and ridiculously heavy earrings on their lobes. Men of another tribe hid their members with penis gourds, farcical contraptions worn around the belt and containing a tube in which the man’s wand was placed. Even the Egyptians buried their pharaohs in an adorned casket; vanity did not end with life, instead it was carried on after the person breathed his last.

I wonder how I’d react if my future wife (gulp) would unpack her make-up kit first after we’ve moved into our new home. It won’t be an easy task to get used to it, that’s for sure. Growing up in a home where vanity was deemed irrelevant, if not discouraged (by mom, at least), I’ll have to take some time to adjust myself to that new, vanity-friendly atmosphere.

In the meantime, I should stop scaring myself.

High school is also where most people meet their first love. Many will argue that they met theirs in elementary. I maintain that love is improbable to find in those younger days. You’re too immature to differentiate infatuation and love, and too stupid to make a move. High school–which coincides with the onset of adolescence–means the development of your adult emotions. Your libido stirs. Suddenly the bathroom is more than a place for pooping and showering. You become explorative in many ways.

You fall in love.

That is every person’s tragedy.

It seems funny that I’m writing this. I’ve never had much luck with love, and have vowed to keep away from it (although my efforts have so far been less than successful). Nevertheless, here I am, in the darkness of my room, typing on Windows Live Writer as my neighbor’s radio is playing, tuned into Love Radio.

How cliche.

I can safely say that I got my first taste of love in my freshman year. There was this girl, my classmate, a timid chubby woman who liked me. At first, I paid her no attention. She was just another one of my classmates who I wasn’t really close to. We started text messaging each other, and it was always small talk. Did I eat my dinner yet, she’d ask. Yeah, I’d reply, how about you? She’d reply yes, too, and then ask if I did my homework. The conversations never touched anywhere near the topic of love, and I was fine with that.

In school, I slowly became attracted to her  (even though I’d told myself before that she wasn’t my type). It was her timorousness that appealed to me. She would always duck her head a bit and giggle silently whenever she thought of something humorous. Every day, when we would meet, she’d always say Hi to me in a passive but cute way.

With my sense of love still not fully bloomed at that time, I succumbed to her timidity. Soon, she occupied my thoughts. I bought a notebook which I assigned to be my diary, but it ended up being a sort of confession book about what I felt about her. I couldn’t muster the courage to tell her straight up that I liked her, so I poured all of my emotions into that notebook. That little notebook I covered with bond paper and plastic wrap. On the front, in Arial Black, the words “CONFESSIONS OF A DELUSIONAL WEIRDO”.

She herself kept a journal which she affectionately called “Blue”. Little did I know that she was writing all the stuff I was. One day, I made her an offer. “Look, I’ll let you read my journal if you let me read yours.”

With her face tomato-red (as was mine), she agreed, and we swapped journals.

Here I was, walking with her towards school, reading her journal, reading everything she thought about me, while she was doing the same thing. Two of our friends (who knew what was going on between us) were walking with us, as well, and they were bursting with delight at what was transpiring.

It was on that day that I told a girl I loved her when I knew I really meant it.

So, we’d become acquainted with the fact that we had this mutual feeling for one another. Now, in other countries, this would’ve meant we were automatically boyfriend and girlfriend. But here where I live, that didn’t hold true.

I should’ve courted her, but I didn’t, although with all sincerity, I thought she would’ve said yes in a heartbeat if I did. We exchanged I Love You’s several times over text messaging (mostly while our Math teacher was explaining this particularly confusing equation), but there was nothing beyond that. No stolen smacks on the lips. No secretive hugs. Just a bunch of “I Luv U” texts, maybe a few knowing glances at each other, and nothing else.

She called me on the phone one night and asked, “Are we in an official relationship?”

I seriously wet myself a little at that. A little. This was a big step for me. I hadn’t had a girlfriend before. Ever. I was that guy in class who, despite his decent looks, couldn’t get a goat to say “Yes” to his proposal even if he was wearing a tuxedo made out of grass. And now, this girl I liked and who liked me as well was asking me if we were in a full-fledged relationship.

I made what was possibly both the smartest and the dumbest decision I’ve ever taken in my 13 years of existence. I answered her question with, “Do you think we’re in a relationship?”

“I don’t know,” was all she said.

“I’m not deciding. You decide. You’re the girl,” I argued, and then added, “So, is it a deal or no deal?”

She replied in a whisper, “DEAL.” She said it in such a low voice that I could only just hear her breathe the words.

“What?” I said, unsure if I heard her right.

“DEAL,” she repeated, in the same low voice.

“Are you sure?” I said. I made it sound more like, “Uh-oh. Wrong answer.”

She said she wasn’t wholly sure, and I encouraged her to think really long and hard about it. I don’t regret telling her that, because I knew that if I made it official right then and there, I would soon regret it and break both our hearts.

We had to break the awkward conversation (I forgot why). The next day at school, we pretended like the phone call never happened, although for the rest of the day, and of the week, and of the month, the question really stuck with me: were we in a relationship?

I was never sane enough to answer that. But now, I guess I’m going to answer it once and for all. You could say that we had a special relationship, but the term “boyfriend and girlfriend” wouldn’t be the right one to describe it. We sure felt like we could take our friendship to a whole ‘nother level. At least, I did.

For some reason, I lost that love I felt for her, and life moved on. Still, even these days, more than a year after I fell in love with her, I still pause and ask myself, “If I said yes to her question, what would have happened?”

It seems weird to think about it now. I’ve had at least three crushes after her, and I was even seriously thinking about courting two of them. (The only thing that hindered me from courting the third one was her immaturity. I’m not going to expound.) Still, I won’t ever forget about that first love.

That chubby, timid woman whose aura appealed to me, whose dimply face once made my day, whose cute giggle made me all warm and fuzzy inside. That first love I will always cherish. Not because I choose to, but because love has this uncanny way of never letting me forget things.

Earlier in this write-up, I said that when people fall in love for the first time, it is their tragedy. I guess I’ll have to correct myself. In the time I spent spontaneously forming this article, I realized finally that love and pain come in one package. Pain equals learning. The scars may look gross, but the knowledge we gain is never a downside.

I will rephrase what I said earlier about love and tragedy.

It is in high school that people fall in love. It is a manifestation of emotional maturity, proof that we are ready to handle things greater than crushes and admiration.

It is in high school that people fall in love.

It is not a tragedy, but a coming of age, which might seem painful in the immediate aftermath, but is ultimately a stunning experience.

–

Global Warming and climate crisis is probably one of the hottest subjects of discussion today (stupid pun unintended), partly because of the stir Al Gore caused with his presentation-slash-movie An Inconvenient Truth. From what I’m reading all over the Internet, the response to the issue has been generally apathetic or negative. Many think it is overrated. Still, others believe it is a hoax (which, I think, is a stupid notion).

I’m no meteorologist. I don’t study the melting of the ice caps. I know little about this shebang (well, about its statistics, at least). What I’m certain of is that humans are doing some kind of damage to the environment–whether we admit it or not–and that if we don’t control this damage, things are going to take a turn for the worse.

In his presentation, Gore fed the audience with many, many statistics, all of them grisly. Rising CO₂ concentrations in the air here, higher temperatures there, more melting glaciers over yonder. No doubt, these stats slap in our faces the urgency of the issue, and the imminent need to address it.

But behind all these stats and clips of crumbling ice shelves, there is an aspect of the issue that should urge us to cross the threshold and become part of the solution instead of the problem. The human aspect of the crisis.

Think about it. The climate crisis was ignited not by the actions we take today (although they certainly do fuel it), but by the actions people took yesterday. The crisis is also still unsolved today because of what people didn’t do yesterday–that is, to investigate and try to discover ways to reverse the negative effects of human progress.

The result of this is the present worsening case of Global Warming. Its effects are felt today, but feebly so. There were a few deadly heat waves a couple of years back, and increasing global temperatures also harbinger worse things to come. Surely, the future will mean stronger effects of the climate crisis–that is, if no one does anything to prevent the crisis from worsening.

What disturbs me about this whole thing is that the people who caused the crisis in the first place will most likely not feel its wrath. Instead, it will be my generation and all generations who will come after ours who will have to suffer the consequences. We will have to come up with new ways to live if we want to survive a planet in distress.

The Bible has a principle that goes something like, “A son should not have to suffer the consequences of his father’s ill actions. Neither does a father have to suffer the consequences of his child’s ill actions.” Does the same principle not stand true for the climate crisis?

If I were a father right now, I would feel inclined to help find a solution. I would, after all, have been part of the problem. I would feel guilty towards my son if I could not right my wrongs so he could live a safe life. I would not be able to live with myself if I stood idly by as he took the beating that was due me.

I was born in the mid-90’s, when the climate crisis was already far from its infancy. In fact, I knew nothing of it until very recently. Now, I realize that there is no way to turn back time and force people not to do the things that led up to this problem. I realize that all we can do now is act to solve the issue before it crosses that threshold known as the damning Point of No Return.

When I think of it, I shouldn’t have to do anything about this. I mean, I didn’t start this whole mess. Some other douchebag(s) did. I should be sitting back, relaxing, sipping banana juice while I watch them right their wrongs.

But when I think about it deeper, I realize that I am obliged to take part in solving it. I remember that plastic wrapper I didn’t throw in the garbage can two weeks ago. I remember that piece of paper I didn’t recycle. I remember the three extra hours I kept my laptop on without really using it.

It might seem insignificant, but it contributes to the big picture. I guess I am part of the problem. So I’m going to be part of the solution. At the end of the day, I am an inhabitant of this Earth. The Higher Power gave me the right to use its resources, as well as the responsibility of keeping it clean and livable for future generations.

Humanity has neglected its responsibility. It’s trying to change, but the phrase “too little, too late” comes into mind. To be fair, it’s not too late–yet. But if we don’t get off our butts, it will be. On the bright side, many nations are now taking steps to clean up their act. Many countries have adapted a Clean Air Act, and governments are doing their very best to implement that law. Unfortunately, I see no united, concerted effort to make a huge difference. Hopefully, things are going to change.

There is a saying that goes, “We do not inherit the Earth from our ancestors. We just borrow it from our children.” This Earth we live in now is not ours. It is our children’s. They unconsciously lent it to us. Still, they will expect us to return it to them as a livable planet.

So, we are responsible to our children. I will not accept the notion that we will give this Earth to them in a shoddy, ramshackle state. That would be deeply unethical. This is exactly why we need to act now, before it’s too late.

Many an article has been written in this same tone, so much so that they are neglected and thought of as “too panicky” or “magnifying the issue”. I think not. These articles do not magnify the issue. Instead, those who refuse to heed its message belittle it.

I will end this by reiterating that last quote. I hope you will ponder on it and understand the task at hand. “We do not inherit the Earth from our ancestors. We just borrow it from our children.”