The birds know not of the adage
Seek and you shall...
Calling out each other
Faintly from the distance
Indefatigably
Singing three high-pitched notes of its purpose
Within the world, unaware of this
Momentous struggle
One of daily millions
Tag: about life
How the Race Found the Finish Line
I don’t know the chemistry of cures. The amount of persuasion the brain needs to swallow it whole. Assimilate to throwing darts in the dark against move the targets. Left to belief, because we all believe it.
Drum up a line. Shuffle this confusion. And find answers in the randomness, draw a convenient conclusion.
And then what? Lose myself from what I supposed to have got. Weave through this lot of have nots. This cycle I writhed in pain.
When a Writer’s Not Writing
I haven’t been as active on this blog as I would’ve wanted. It’s not like the well of has dried up… I’m still writing…
Two things to describe the last 3 years:
* Memos
* I’m writing in bullets
Technical communication is a challenging venue for someone prone to drifting and exploring en route from point a to point b, whereas memos are point a to point b travellers who used Waze to come up with the most effective path possible.
With tech writing on full throttle, I devoted what’s left of my keyboard
Goner
You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you’ll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the idea of future to escape the present.
— John Green
He was staring at a blank screen, mirroring his mind. Everything that’s let out of our body requires excruciating pain like blood, babies, and words. He kept on talking about this one big time he’ll hit it big. Then deflate it with uncontrollable self-loathing. Then escape to a song that sings about the piled up yesterdays and the gaslit need to escape. He is running himself to a deadline to feel alive… or at least, feast on its overcasting fear.
Six Years
The last six years has been amazing… As it passed like a blur and the days piled up, I feel that I can only look forward to the next. I am but fortunate to have the luxury to absorb every beautiful thing that is happening around my kids as they discover the world.
On The Mic 2
The PAGCOR gig is the second best job in the world. The best one is the one you dreamed of. Card Dealing, at best, affords you the things that a dream job can provide. I’m speaking not necessarily in terms of financial security but it buys you time. Time you can spend freely without the stress lurking at the back of your head thinking about deadlines or any of the dread from a typical nine-to-fiver.
Trust
I walk the stretch of Edsa extension from the corner Roxas Boulevard to MRT Taft at 10p.m. whenever I opt to leave my car and take the train instead. The sidewalk depicts the threat of decay Pasay City seems to suffer from within, similar to a shiny teeth enamel that is rotten from the inside.
It is not a secure walk and I’m pretty sure the city will use that fact that I, along with the daily mob who traverse this dirty street, walk there unharmed. The whole stretch is commercially developed but
The Battles We Choose To Fight
Friday… Payday… Driving… Enduring a two-hour hell. Finding solace with the 80’s music spun by Boom Gonzales of Magic 89.9. There’s no need to check the social networks about how terrible this monstrous Manila madness is. I’m in it, part of it, seemingly woven into it. Maybe I’ll check
The Gray Son
original photo from etsy.com by nicole houff
My dad wasn’t happy when he saw me playing with a Ken doll, Barbie’s boyfriend. It was given by Tito Yol, an OFW, after giving my sisters and cousins Barbies. He had three daughters and it is only understandable if he didn’t buy toys for boys on his way back as pasalubong. He was a cool uncle who maybe thought that a Ken is no different from a G.I. Joe. Honestly, then as a 4 year old, and now at 36, I don’t see the difference either. Only in between, when i was starting to learn genetic differences and physiological tendencies were it an issue.
The Ken in question was a cowboy complete with guns, boots with spurs and a white plastic hat. My dad thought it was offensive for his only son, the son of a king from the mean streets of Mabitac, Laguna to be running around with a cowboy doll with his sisters. He did stop questioning the whole situation one time when he saw me playing alone with Ken and Barbie. Except that they were naked. And Ken was on top. I guess some curiosity about sexuality is more acceptable than others.
Tita Vicky
In 1998, I went back to Bulacan State University because of two realities. One was that we could never afford the college course that I want from the University that I wanted to take it. Second, Tita Vicky requested that I stay with her and Nana Puding. Nothing tastes more bitter than
danDAman 