#samar

Calbiga, in Samar, is the gateway to Langun-Gobingob — the largest cave system in the Philippines and the second-largest in Asia — and has one of the smallest tourist footprints I’ve encountered. Getting there is a mild production, and the locals, I think, prefer it this way. I stayed at Calbiga Tita Flor’s, a two-room homestay in the town proper run by a woman who used to teach elementary school…

Akae Beka - Ghetto dub

Time passes slowly here in Calbayog.

The big news today is our favorite fruit vendor got in a shipment of New Zealand apples.

New Zealand apples are to die for.

But no one here is planning on dieing.

Just cool.

Greece. Not the country, but the Murad's home named after the place — abandoned by Petros, but enjoyed by Anaïs when her own home bored her to tears. Now, she upholds her part of the deal in keeping the house alive; upgrading old architectural choices and keeping it modern.

It's rare to see her this way: heels off, casual in her own world. She picks up a painting and moves it to a different spot on the wall.

"Oh, to bore the great chess-master with aesthetic choices." It's more than just likely, that Anaïs had hit her father with the same joke before. How peculiar has it been, to watch Samar replace him overnight. "Though I suppose all you do is an aesthetic choice." Who lives— who dies— who loses all sense of self under merciless torture. The mafia boss special.

-Samar

ahhh, most excellent... let it beest known that whoev'r shalt lay eyes upon that bumbling bald domed fool first shalt receiveth a reward quite unlike any other. Volcano Manor style.

you know how sometimes you’re so used to someting that you forget it can actually kill people? that was me with typhoon Opong, sitting there in my house like some smug weather expert, thinking PAGASA was being dramatic with their signal 4 warnings. Samar’s taken so many hits over the years that i’ve developed this stupid immunity to concern, this calloused indifference that now feels obscene. when Yolanda—which flattened Tacloban like god himself had taken a rolling pin to it—barely mussed our hair, i think something in me broke, or maybe calcified is the better word. i became one of those people who says things like “oh, we’ve seen worse” at dinner parties, as if surviving is some kind of credential.

so when Opong started making her approach, i did what i always do: i yawned, checked that the windows were latched with the enthusasm of someone returning a library book, and went to bed. the wind was already throwing its tantrum outside, rattling the galvanized roofing like loose change in a dryer, but i just pulled the blanket over my head and thought about what i’d eat for brakfast. i’d become so comfortable with catastrophe that i’d mistaken it for weather.

“I haven't really thought about competing. If he thinks I should, maybe I should go on practicing posing with him.”

Unfortunately, I cannot know how it went. But I will still ask

How was it? I hope you were satisfied with your answers.

Please have some fruits as they are fresh and sweet

And coincidentally I also have my income tax law and practice continuous assessment tomorrow which is again not important because it's just a continuous assessment.

But you my love are going to give an exam which is very important to your future and you know I keep getting this image of a guy with ruffled hair and in his grey sweatpants and a great t-shirt standing near his study table with glasses on. With his hand in the pockets and looking in my direction.