Got this article from a local newspaper (I can’t remember which one, was it Freeman or Sun Star?) and wanna share this one to all of you who will be looking forward to this month’s upcoming fete. A few days from now, the demand of flowers will skyrocket and dinners for two will be a scramble. As for me, I think I’ll just be munching my favorite Japanese chocolates alone. Oh well, though I’ll be part of the “firing squad” (kay wlay date), I’m happy naman. Ika nga, love is ubiquitous. :p
Imagine if instead of the heart, we have the liver as the symbolic fount of emotions. Take then the groovy: “I love you with all my liver” or “My liver belongs to you” or better still, “I left my liver in San Francisco.” This could have made a more romantic bent on Hannibal Lecter’s appetite for human liver.
We wouldn’t have a problem anymore – theorizing cardiac placement when you make a gesture of promise or when you’re swearing love. With the liver, you can just place your hand over the bottom part of your rib cage (the term substernal notch, if you want to impress), and say, “I swear from the bottom of my liver to be with you forever…“
A slight malfunction of the heart could give you either edema, with your face bloating like a frog catching its breath, or, if unattended, an untimely arrest. But the liver, if agitated, can play a bit of chromatics on your derma. You get jaundice, you could be an unnoticeable imposition on a rococo painting, from being plain morena to being an ornate macarena.
So, liver. The word by itself explains every nature. It has the root word “live,” suggesting that the organ is therefore the source of life. To say liver would give the organ a more active voice, it would mean something or someone who lives, which he or who has a zest for life. Heart is a kind of “sexist” having the pronoun “he.” It also has “art,” which hints of being artificial, art being subordinate to nature. So, liver wins the aspect of etymology.
Then we’ll have the songs, “King and Queen of Livers,” “Total Eclipse of the Liver,” or Sting’s “Shape of My Liver.” OPM will have April Boy crooning “Pa’ no ang atay ko, kung wala ka…“
Ah, liver. You will have Cupid having instead a flappier target, not in red, but something more purplish and passionate. When hurt, you’d say “You broke my liver.” When you’re so in love, you’d no longer suffocate or be nervous about it. You’d just turn yellow, develop hepatitis, and be dangerously contagious. You’d be out there touching lives, er, livers.