we don’t talk anymore

we don’t talk anymore

I just heard you found the one you’ve been looking
You’ve been looking for
I wish I would have known that wasn’t me


Cause even after all this time
I still wonder
Why I can’t move on
Just the way you did so easily


Don’t wanna know
Kind of dress you’re wearing tonight
If he’s holdin’ onto you so tight
The way I did before


I overdosed
Should’ve known your love was a game
Now I can’t get you out of my brain
Oh, it’s such a shame


(Words by Charlie Puth, Selena Gomez, Jacob Kasher)

(Injeenyuhs Photo/Robin Estargo)

Manila Traffic at 1/60

Manila Traffic at 1/60

Have been really busy this week. I had everything planned for the night but I got stuck in traffic for four hours.

Here’s a little lowlight experimentation. Thank God for traffic jams.












Back to work.




She turns to him.

The night is as darkest as ever, but for Miss Mijares, the man is a sunrise—a new beginning. She looks straight into his eyes, feeling her cheeks trembling; her face swollen, full of deep emotion and passion. There was a pinch of confusion as well.

Inch by inch, their faces are getting closer, but as Miss Mijares examines the eyes of the boy, she feels wary: the hint of an eyelid twitching and the sudden bend of an eyebrow. The man feels the same.

“What’s wrong?” she asks. Continue reading “Revelation”

Case Studies

A girl’s catharsis from her murderer.

From the darkness, a girl emerges and walks down the street. She suddenly
stops for feeling that something is behind her, but she continues to walk,
now at a faster pace while looking back from time to time, going into a main
street and into a marketplace, where she encounters an entity that
manipulates her: her past, her spirit and her true intentions. Continue reading “Case Studies”

Sunday Clothes

Sunday Clothes


This is the day when she died.

The morning of December rose as she fell,

And I literally smell the morning vapor.

Her breathing fainted just as the cold water went downhill.

The ground shook and I felt her crack.


That was when we had to lay her down,

Like a dress you just ironed.

A naked being, vulnerable and oppressed. Continue reading “Sunday Clothes”