Dear Miley

by Sankage Steno

I couldn’t sleep at night because of this:

Ngayon-ngayon pa lang ako nakaka-recover from my Conjuring nightmares, then all of a sudden you had this. Do you seriously want me to be insomniac? Is that what you want to happen to me?

You know, Miley, I’m still training my baby-boomer brain to process words like ‘selfie’ and ‘#YOLO’, and I’m also in the middle of securing my rights as a digital immigrant so I can officially use the hashtag, tapos ngayon dadagdagan mo pa ng ‘twerking’?

I don’t think I can handle any more of your generation’s BS.

Oh tell your Aunt Louise, tell anything you please. Myself already knows that I’m okay (or maybe not). Oh you can tell my eyes to watch out for my mind. It might be walking out on me today. Grabe.

And how dare you sing that hideous, misogynistic Blurred Lines with that D.O.M. Robin Thicke? I felt like ripping my country vocal cords off! Is that what you call music nowadays? Man, that was cheap. Kadiri! Thank you, Lord Jesus, for making me a country singer.

How can a sweet, country girl like you turn out to be like this? It’s Disney’s fault! Sabi na hindi dapat kita in-enroll sa Mickey Mouse Club. But you and your mama were very insistent that time. I was no match against the two of you then. Oh regrets.

You can tell your ma, I moved to Arkansas, or you can tell your dog to bite my leg. Or tell your brother Cliff who’s fist can tell my lips. He never really liked me anyway.

Sa tingin ko, I’d never be able to watch VMA in the years to come. It’d just remind me of how I let you down, or how I let myself down because of what you did. Sana talaga I just left you na lang in the farm to milk our cows and guard our sheep against wolves. Now I can’t even guard you from those wolves watching you twerk on Youtube.

So nagpasya na ako. It pains me to do this, but I really have to disown you. I’m sorry. You can tell the world, you never was my girl. You can burn my clothes when I’m gone. Or you can tell your friends (and followers) just what a fool I’ve been, and laugh and joke about me (and my hair) on the phone.

I never thought that it was you who would totally break my “achy, breaky heart.” I just don’t think it’d understand. And if you twerk my heart, my achy breaky heart, he might blow up and kill this man.

Woo-hoo-ooh!

Your ex-dad,
Billy Ray

——-
P.S.
I’m attaching this photo of us so you’ll remember how we used to be. Paalam.