“We are so afraid of trusting the familiar. Too petrified of broken glass. Too fearful of a porcelain heart. Too wary of risk. Too cold towards suffering. Yet we trust ourselves everyday under the care of complete strangers. The bus driver. The jeepney driver. The overcrowded trains. The person beside you at the pharmacy. The sidewalk. The customer service. We trust a system that asks us to trust the things we do not know, the faces we share nothing in common with. In between the strangers and ourselves, there is only a thin sheet of luck and law protecting us. A law that tells it is wrong to kill. To lie. To deceive. To steal. And luck, that the overcrowded, ill-maintained train will not derail. That the bus will safely arrive at your destination. Without it, it seems we are all so wild, and dangerous. That we are wild, and in danger. With the familiar, why is it harder then? Why is it hard to trust the only person who can make you feel that it is not about fortunes or legislation? Why is it so terrifying to have our hearts broken? Why is it so hard to accept that indeed we have to be pained?”
