Radical

A dream may be shared, but only you can keep it. But memories — those are given away freely, willingly, unwittingly: the good, the bad, the forgettable ones. And that’s our pain: in having big dreams that we wish others can carry for us, or at least with us. And this is our sorrow: in having so many memories, but not knowing which ones we’ll lose or keep, or which ones will hold the same meaning…

And so, here I am again, at 2:00AM—Wondering, pondering, at the wordsBoth meant, and meanAnd words that shouldn’t have beenWords that should’ve stayed within. What else is there to say?To say more brings more miseryThan suffering in silence—Violent echoes of unsaid thingsBouncing off the walls of my mindAnd heart, until a crack appearsUntil the crack spreadsUntil suddenlyWordsHappen, and…

They say old people find it harder to sleep. And I admit: I feel and am that old already. No matter how I cheer myself up and say things like, “You’re only as old as you think,” or “There always will be a child inside each of us,” — they don’t change the reality that my body is old, and with growing old comes the physical problems. And the thing I wish for the most, the thing that I long for the…

Melancholic rainy weather here, and I was supposed to write something else (been awhile since I blogged), but ended up with this poem — and NO: this is not a personal story or a reflection of our current relationship. Rather, it’s just one of those times where I get hit by an idea, and I just isekai’d my self to this other person who I imagine was in a certain circumstance, and thus, wanted to…

We will celebrate in the small things: those that are good, beyond what was bad, in what could have been worse— the small things that made each day, every moment, a small win in its own modest way. Small things, after all, are the real reason why we can celebrate in a big way: each step of a journey, each teardrop towards healing, every sigh and cry that we give a tune until they become a song…

When Your Lights Go Dim

When your lights go dim, and all aroundThe shadows swallow your meager glowStill, shine on within your flicker’s reachThough you waver, hold on, just showThat though your lights are dim, it matters not;Light still will be light when darkness abound. When your voice sound softer amidst the noiseAnd thoughts seem harder to turn into wordsStill, sing and speak the truth you knowThough you falter,…

Originally written on March 8 — two days before Tatay died. It had been a stressful week; I was physically and emotionally stretched: both from our family troubles and my own personal struggles. It was a challenging time for me, but God saw me through.

(more…)

It’s 3AM. I badly need to sleep, but I just sat on the floor by my bed, crying. I now live in a small rented space, but it just feels as hollow and as lonely as our old childhood home back then – during those years when Mama’s psychiatric conditions were at its worst, and Tatay had to hide me in the emptied house that used to home for our family – and I had to stay hidden, away from the windows,…

Scattered Thoughts & Rainshowers

The news did not came as a shock, but like a distant rumbling of thunders. I stared at the message, not in disbelief or denial; rather, it felt like waking from a bad dream. Dreams. When was the last time I’ve dreamed of Tatay, or Mama? Dreaming about Tatay and dream-processing the grief and regrets and other stuff would have been bittersweet and cathartic. I never got a chance to even dream…

Here Blows the December Breeze

I’m just tired and in need of a friendA shoulder to rest, a place to cryWhere I can unlock my soul every now and thenAnd quietly confide in silence the reasons why I feel tired and in want of a friendMy mind to rest, set free the sighsTo let starshine dance with my tearsDrive not away these monsters of worries, of fears;Rather, to tame, to understand, to feelTheir anguish and rage and lonely…

How quieter it is to swallow one’s own tearsAnd let each soul self-steep in their sorrowCaring not for what others think, or feel;They care not —’tis what they make us think and feelWhen dried-up spirits stained with sorrowThirsting to wallow in tears gone quieter now. The whispers and the shouts all sound the sameLike memories and dreams that both never happenedNor collided, as countless deja…

A hotdog-inspired post after a long hiatus, so this is probably me doing a mental detox on my hotdog-preservative-marinated brain.

I stare at the single piece of Purefoods Tender Juicy hotdog on my plate. Sigh. This again, I thought. I’ve been eating it for several days already, for economic reasons. I mean, heck: for Php180± a kilo, each piece only costs around Php15±; just add fried egg (Php8±) and cooked rice (Php5± per meal), I get to each a decent complete meal for just around Php30! Cheaper than canned sardines, and…

Just in case somebody bothers to wonder why I’m gone

Today, I just want to get it all over with.

I don’t know what else to say. I’m tired.

So tired.

I love you, 2020

No, it’s not sarcastic. Nor is it meant to cancel all the hurts and pains this year has brought; those were real, and won’t be forgotten that easily.

But is it really its fault that it had been bad at all?

It’s so easy to blame 2020 for all that’s wrong in this world right now, to let it absorb the collective hate and disgust and vehemence that our whole generation has slowly been distilled…

In this new normal that we live in, some things are still the same, and hopefully will never change, like kindness.

I went out to throw my trash. Normally, there would be a lot of cats hanging around the garbage area. Today, I suddenly noticed they weren’t around anymore.

Maybe they’ve found a better place to find food.

Or maybe, they’ve become food, a sinister side of me joked.

I sighed, and opened my wallet. And laughed. A few more weeks of this quarantine, and that joke might actually prove itself…

I woke up at around 9AM. It was a bright and gloomy day. It’s a Sunday — normally, I’d go to church, see my girlfriend, experience some social life. Yay.

But not today.

It’s DAY ONE of the Metro Manila 30-day community quarantine (a fanciful way of saying ‘lockdown’). Living in Cavite, my girlfriend strongly suggested I look for a place outside of Metro Manila, so we can still see each…

The empty playground, once alive, now felt nothing more than a graveyard of childhood memories. Haunting echoes of children’s laughter, squeals, and cries faded in and out of my consciousness.

The playground once was a symbol of freedom, of life — a magical place that used to promise friendship, games, endless summer afternoons dripping in sweat. But like all other forms of magic, it faded as…