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”
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”
Why do you sound like that?; like what?; like a girl, it’s not good; lower your voice; lower; lower; lower; good, it sounds just like mine; as I told you, you do not shout unless you’re in a game or you’re in a fire; you don’t scream in high pitch, those are for homos; sit like a man; do not ever cross-leg and always sit up straight; stand straight as well when you’re walking in public and keep your hands to your pockets; let me see; why are your arms like that?; it looks like you’re holding a skirt; my elbows are deformed, they look like they’re holding a skirt but they’re just like that, sir; that’s not an excuse, you have to force yourself, and what’s with that voice again?; you speak to me like you are flirting with me, you only do that to girls; don’t treat them as your best friends, treat them as potential mates; remember to be shy when in front of them; only treat guys as you’re friends, like me; be in a group of boys in school; like them, you don’t talk in class, you’ll always be reckless in class but you have to keep your grades up; keep your grades up but don’t be an attention whore; don’t ever be a whore, like the ones you like; Continue reading “Like A Man”
Road photography… at its laziest yet.
Staring through the window, I see a view that feels uncomfortable to me. Usually, when I ride a bus, I see wide buildings and tall glass ones that seem to go on forever through the clouds, but here, I only see tiny houses and wide fields of grass and crops in every direction. By this thought, I can conclude that Manila is a very far place from Indang, Cavite, figuratively and literally. Continue reading “Running Away to Balay Indang”