POEM: BLOCK

Sanay akong mapag-isa, aking mahal.

Hinubog ng panahon, pinatibay ng mundo

Tatahimik, uupo, ngunit ‘di masasakal

Bansot ang lipunan! Heto ako’t nakalundo.

Ako lang ang sariling kakampi—

Walang luha ang sayo’y dadampi.

Kaya ko pa, kaya ko pa, kaya ko pa!

Walang sandaling makikitang nalalampa.

Mahal, wag mong indahin

May pasa, may sugat, kirot sa ‘king dibdib.

Dadaan ang araw; wag mo nang dalhin—

ang sugat ng kahapo’y puspos at tigib.

Lilipas ang araw, lulubog ang buwan

makakalimutan mo rin kung ako’y nasaan.

Walang naging tayo, mahal.

“Umuwi ka nang malaya”, aking usal.

Patuloy akong tatakbo sa karimlan

Na parang wala lang ang tinamong sugat

hanapin mo man ako kung saan

Sorry try again, mahahanap mong sulat.

Butas-butas na istorya, iyong maririnig

Ngunit di mo masasagap aking tinig.

Facebook, Instagram, kahit gaano katagal—

Sanay akong mapag-isa, aking mahal.

05-25-2019

4:46 AM

Opo, it has ABABCCDD rhyme scheme. Masyadong pinaghirapan (kahit pangit haha!) para hindi i-post. Lame, lame poet.

I don't even know somebody's reading my work

HISTORY OF THE BLOG

Two years ago, I had a mental breakdown that of course, my parents doesn't know (but I reckon they felt it) because it's not my thing to be communicative nor say what I feel. In either way, nobody will ever care. I grew up with apathetic parents.

HOW IT ALL GOES DOWN

So I had a second Facebook account that does nothing but to talk of my poetic angst. Looking back, it sounds like a middle-schooler's diary—but I never wouldn't mind. I just know that I need to let it out, for I lack a circle that can console what I feel. I am aware that a twenty-year-old woman is far too early for doing anything crazy; though sometimes I am thinking about being a rebel myself (but never had a courage to try).

So what I did was to write, write, write.

WELCOME, LOSERS!

So far, I already have a 1,000 page views this month. ONE. THOUSAND. PAGEVIEWS. Perhaps, I need to be more responsible with my words here. Well, I lack followers and each blog entires have no comments but as a devil-may-care word spitter, I need to be careful in what I utter, which emotion will I let out, or what perspective will I share to common readers. My blog starts to receive (somewhat decent) amount of page views. Congratulations, self!

I'm starting to think everything can backfire on me any minute now. Where's my plan?

We cannot grow if we are not ready to be uncomfortable. Accept the chaos.

At the very least, I should have an idea what I'm doing—but I am running back to what I've started, trying a leap in a fake progress. Wrapping my head around a career building at the expense of crushing other people makes me feel substandard.

I'm human and I have a couple of morals. Please pretend to be surprised.

Paghihintay.

Magkikita rin tayo. Sa pagitan ng mahinhin at malandi, mahalaga at di mahalaga, mini skirts at make up, matataas na gusali at kapitalistang banyaga, kasabay ng lahat ng obligasyon, at ambisyon na mayroon tayong dalawa. Nangangarap kasi tayo--sobrang taas, na hindi ko alam kung may puwang ba talaga ako para sa iyo. Kung naiisip mo pa ba ako, hindi ko alam. Magkikita rin tayo.

Sa ngayon, mangarap ka muna.

BOOK REVIEW: The Subtle Art of Not Giving A F*ck

I think I found the book The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck on instagram, propped up beside a lovely coffee mug with a tear-jerking caption that can make Michelle Obama cry. Somewhere around 2016, this book is a hit because number one: it appears on every book website I visit, and number two: damn, the F word sounds nice. Haha.

This is probably the first book that agrees with my rather careless life decisions. Am I REALLY careless? Are my virtues malleable and therefore easily persuaded? Or maybe something more: that I wouldn’t pay attention on my make-up because I have to update my résumé, or I would deliberately pick ukay-ukay than any high-end clothes shop because I don’t know… its way cheaper?

Then it dawned on me: we all have different filters in making decisions. Mine is self-improvement and happiness—EVERYTHING ELSE DOESN’T MATTER. I have known POVERTY since the day I was born, so I would rather be broke and happy than to be rich and miserable. Fuck it all. Therefore, maybe I was never really reckless jerk at all.

No copyright infringement intended 

Sorry Paris Hilton, I don’t want to be you. Please don’t get offended. I mean, I can’t be you because I can’t stomach the horrors of blind dating and fake flattery. YOU CAN. Who likes to be anybody’s trophy girlfriend? It sucks.

Choices, the value of suffering, and finding your self-identity by NOT giving a fuck at all—these are the things that might get you mind blown within 146 pages. It’s really short, actually, given that I’ve read it on PDF. But it’s worth reading, if you are willing to get your ego crushed so new perspective will blossom.

 I could kiss the author right now. Seriously.

On Mocha Uson

Sabi nila, ang argument ng iba, somebody has to be given a second chance regardless of her past lifestyle, that we are all judgmental jerks and we should give Mocha another shot.

Pero dude, hindi nga sya exotic dancer, naging political prostitute naman sya. Bayaran pa rin. Never had a personal opinion; she will defend the administration whatever the cost of her twisted logic. GANUN PA RIN NAMAN. I have yet to see a Mocha blog entry that despises or criticizes the President. Ang bias diba? Hindi ba sila nagkakasala? Hindi ba nagkakamali ang bansang 'to?

Let’s end this once and for all: her present, actually, has no difference at all. Iba nga lang ng platform.

POEM: The Ladder

My eyes are starting to wander,
let my mind grow asunder!
I wear so much shame in my head.
but gods must've love to see me bled
or, I don't know.
maybe its a responsibility they bestowed.
( must I lay myself upon their Pantheons? )
I don't care anymore,
let thy name lose its reputation,
somebody should stop settling the score.
there's nothing really special up the ladder.


(Danica Ann Niegas)

BOOK REVIEW: Gapo by Lualhati Bautista

Mostly, novels have two possible outcomes: the good, and a tragic. The resolution may disappoint us, making us understand the frailty of human—on the other hand, there are stories that positively sheds a light of hope for the readers. In the end, the “absoluteness” of some conclusions are far more predictable than others.

The book Gapo, by Lualhati Baustista is way beyond that. Talking about the love-hate (and rather exploitative) relationship between Filipinos and Americans, it made me see that having no change is worse than a tragic ending at all.

Gapo by Lualhati Bautista talks about the tale of Magda, a prostitute in Olongapo, and Michael, a half-Filipino whose heart is seething with anger for Yankees. After a series of struggle between those them, and the clashes of their ideals, Magda still tragically becomes pregnant of her “boyfriend”, which later reveals already a married man.

This circular story sinks hopelessness deeper that after reading, you must accept that reality is so much complicated that what it looks like. No force on earth cannot change the way of Olongapo. No wannabe hero must dare to solve the problems of a sick society. The Filipino-American relationship roots deeper than the garbage exports and lustful Yankees being thrown in our land—for it is ingrained in our mindset, that terrible and disgusting colonial mentality.

I also like the commentaries in-between: Bautista talks about unfair quality of export products, how we are so accepting of their substandard products, and how Filipinos can almost die for the elusive American dream. There’s also a lot of subplot that makes the story alive, like Modesto, Jun, and William.

Overall, the only round character capable of shifting viewpoints is Magda. At the end of the novel, upon knowing that she’s been pregnant again by a Yankee, she ended seeing Michael’s viewpoints. She finally understands that illusory fairytale that every prostitute wants are just blinders that makes Americans more exploitative, and Filipinos more abused and beaten. 

People and Choices

“Neither of those men realized your worth,

because you failed to value yourself highly enough.

A man does not know a woman’s value.

She is the one who determines her value.

The higher you price yourself,

the more he will realize what you are really worth…”

( Woman at point Zero, Nawal El Saadwi )

------- 0o0o0o0 ------

When people walks up to you, their first impressions of you will stick in them. Some may be satisfied by what they see, others not. Some lunatics might follow you around, know every corners of you and even chase who you are and why do you act as such. It doesn’t stop. The extent of a man’s determination to know your soul is both pitiful, charming, and impressive—all at the same time.

But there will be a time when you can’t hold the game anymore—that you need to put your foot down so the truth will eventually spit out. It’s not that you’re whining, nor demanding; not even in the slightest hint that you are being cruel. It’s just that in relationships, people must know where they stand. Who you are in their lives. Which parts are real and which are lies.

People without labels are only better off in their separate ways. At least, they can play their dangerous games without hurting each other so much. 

The Blame Game (I have read the first chapter of Dale Carnegie's book)

Insane criminals never blamed themselves for anything. They just believed they are just defending their over inflated egos. They use reasoning, fallacious or logical, to justify their anti social acts: like dehumanizing their "enemies" with vindictiveness and insulting remarks.

They will NEVER understand what you feel; in fact, they will justify it even more. It's like talking to a brick wall.

BOOK REVIEW: Mga Kaibigan ni Mama Susan by Bob Ong

Bob Ong’s comical books has been already know for every Filipinos for years. After his debut work ABNKKBSNPL Ako, most of his works has gained an equal popularity for his comical style and witty lines. This time, his latest book Mga Kaibigan ni Mama Susan ventures a different breed of genre (I wonder what are the things he cannot do more than what he can). Gather your fires and pull up your blankets, because this kind of thriller makes your skin crawl and hairs rise in fear.

This is a series of diary entries of a college student named Gilberto—who has a recurring nightmare of a woman in black. Whenever he dreams of it, he wakes up in the morning panting and drenched in sweat. But alongside that, he has difficulties with his aunts and uncles. He is shouldering the chores all the time. He is the least favorite in the family, and most of his cousins are getting better privileges in the house than him. After finding out his grandmother has grown sickly, he decides to leave the city and look after her in a small province. He founds out that his lola (grandmother) has an almost-religious group “Kapatiran” which the whole province relies on, after banishing a Catholic priest. After a chain of horrendous events, like hearing their religious chanting, and somebody always taking his pen (so he cannot write in his diary), he realized that the Kapatiran was not just a group, nor anything that praises Jesus Christ.

With no electricity, mobile devices, or any help with the adjacent cities, will he able to escape his grandmom’s cult and the “Kapatiran” women?

Even though it is crafted effectively to scare the readers, its whole excitement is crammed at the end of the novel. The exposition is quite long, that isn’t attached to the conclusion. The narration of his school life didn’t rise up to strengthen the ending of his grandmother. I’m aware that it’s supposed to be a student’s diary, but having lots of incoherent angles in one book weakens its fluidity and oneness.

The Latin words gave rise to the climactic cliffhanger. Albeit the slow pace of the book, I like the way it ended.

Well, it works the same way in real life. Sometimes, we cannot control the people we love, and if they morphed to a monster we don’t know they are capable of, the best thing we should do is to simply run away and save ourselves. The guilt of leaving your family is unbearable, especially if you have a family like Gilberto who is guilt tripping you all the time, but there are moments when we have to think for ourselves and start saving our sanity.

After a long ride of eerie and disturbing experiences, this book from Bob Ong will let you have a taste of troubling rituals and terrifying nightmares. Coming from a life of a normal kid, it is enjoyable for it is seething with mystery.

ESSAY: Convincing myself

(Pardon me some few words of unrhymed poetry. This is made as a diary, not a creative assholes used by English majors to intimidate and isolate the general public haha)

Part of me wants to believe that its for the best. I mean hey, I am the first one who told me that I want to love someone who is completely whole, absolute and emotionally secure. As for their case, I know I can never get by to people who can NEVER be satisfied with anything. In the first place, they stole me my intelligence, wit, and personal identity, which can take YEARS to rebuild and recreate--and I must admit, him playing in the dark signifies the dependency of his love. It actually feels safe to live with him, with all that chivalry and sensitivity, but then, is that the price that I must pay for that blissful feeling? A loss of character? A life unworthy to everyone? A running contest living for vindication?

I have fought far too many devils and died a million times in the name of being "worthy". If you will be my another social casualty, then let it be, for the books and ideas and lifestyle I have given to you will always be a part of you. As for my case, I think that is enough; my semi-self in your breathing, pieces of me intact in your choices, my limbs and bones in decision-making, and my heart in every word you say (even with other women).

This is probably the most irrelevant thing that I must say, but your career will take you back to me anyway. In any other way, crossroads will reappear, loopholes will refreshen, but time will only orchestrate the perfect timing of everything. I hope, by then, that your attitude will change, whole altogether, without being overly dependent on one women whom you will circle your world into. God knows that the weight of your world is heavy, TOO HEAVY, for a woman of five mouths to feed, an ideal mind to keep, and a depressing life challenged and always lacking in material wealth. Haven't you realized the stretch of our living? You in a mansion and comfort, while I in a struggling home. I don't even know why you convince yourself that I am a good idea.

God only knows if this must stand against all. Right now, for this matter, with the persons involved circling in this society, with all his friends and enemies, particularly in his state of mind, we both need some peace of mind and thinking lapses for personal bloom.

P.S.,

That simply proves that you don't value yourself, and that you only get validation from other people that can say positive, and most probably lies, things that reflect your worth.

(originally posted on facebook notes, dated March 24, 2016)

Book Review: Kung Alam Nyo Lang by Ricky Lee

Ever had a children’s story that has an underlying creepy lesson inside? Maybe, you have made familiar with your favorite story when you were a kid, never knowing it’s more than a bedtime fairytale? With the Ricky Lee’s latest venture, Kung Alam Nyo Lang, four childhood stories of coming-of-age will send you the chills of adulthood… in a child-like setting.

Avoiding spoilers, I tried (so hard) not to give away too many details of the book.

Ang Nawawalang Diyos

            A cliché story of discovering yourself by finding God (and not Nemo), the story spices up with Carlo’s two pets, his dog and cat. Since this narrative is already dime a dozen, it seems just the “click bait” of the book to reach the common audience—but for me, it’s my least favorite.

Ang Sayaw ng mga Letra

            I didn’t see the ending coming. Depression can seep in with years of neglect and denial. Inches away from the ending, it urges you to look at mental illnesses in a different light.

Si Inggo at ang Santo Kuwatro

            Reopening the issues of bullying, it teaches us power of word of mouth. It helps you realize how it can move people—it can haunt you, inspire you, surprise you, and yes, it can also be twisted for personal glory.

           

Nang Mapagod si Kamatayan

            The defamiliarization of immortality is genius.

                         Even though my PHP 350.00 only lasted for 2 hours (excluding the time I prepared for my midnight coffee), trust me it’s a good read. In fact, my emotions are running wild as I flick through the pages. It’s the type of dark stories that make you see a flash of light. Giving us a tinge of hope, it signals the readers that emotional warzones of growing up has a rainbow.

People change with time. There are things that happened to a person in his childhood and years later they seem to him alien and strange. I am trying to decipher that child. Sometimes he is a stranger to me. When you think about when you were 14, don't you feel a certain alienation? 

- Gunter Grass

BOOK REVIEW: Boys are Dogs by Leslie Margolis

When we were young, prepubescent problems seems like forever. Add the idea of parent’s separation, moving to another city, not seeing your friends anymore …and dealing with boys. Luckily, here is a book for sixth graders that teaches them how to train them, like a dog does.

Boys are dogs by Leslie Margolis is about Annabelle, an 11-years old student who just moved in as a sixth grader at Birchwood Middle School. She carries with a lot of changes going on about her. Her mother got a new boyfriend. She moved to another state. She switched schools, where she has barely no friends at all. One more thing: she has a new dog she needs to train. Only with a puppy-training book on her hand, she needs adjusting with a dog who eats up and chews on everything, and dealing with schoolyard bullies at the same time.

She has learned that training her dog Stripe, who eventually becomes Pepper, is not really different from standing up from boys who calls her names, snatches her homework, and steals her friends’ tables in the canteen.

Having a catchy title, not to mention derogatory for some, this books is clearly for young women—dealing with a pack of wild dogs called boys (her words, not mine!). The story is entertaining and easy-read, plus the humor is witty.  Contrary to a casual girlhood crush relationship, the theme is quite different, especially in developing the reader’s confidence department. It teaches a strong wit among the newbies in school. The simplistic vocabulary is impressive, because the story is relevant and classic difficulties of a child. Reflective as she is, Annabelle proves that emotional struggles can be solved slowly, through his puppy-training book.

Annabelle changes a lot through the chapters, turning herself into a “dominant dog” for Pepper and Birchwood boys. The other characters as well, has learned how to adjust to changes. Her stepfather Ted whom he calls “Dweeble” has managed to talk to her—though not entirely successful in keeping a connection to her new daughter. Then Jackson, an eighth grader who calls her “Spazabelle”, soften a bit until he gets along with her. Mia and Sophia, on the other hand, finally grows into young women who has their own eye candies. Clearly, this is a coming-of-age book full of problems and self-discoveries.

While some stayed the same, but the entirety of the story expects a lot of coping and growing up. It is light-hearted yet not boring until the end of the page. Young readers can relate to the theme of the story—the glories and all its mishaps.  

We are old enough to apologize.

Do not be sorry for the space you take in this world. 

Refuse you wear the shame that others what you to wear. 

This is YOU,

in all your splendor,

and you shouldn’t apologize for the make-up of you DNA.

You have been cooperating and letting people take the lead, 

never knowing your untapped potential

 because of those small-minded people holding you back. 

Ignore the shame and denial that others wants you to have. 

Continue,

 do not perish,

 at least not today,

 to realize your true purpose in the servitude of others.

You will not be sorry for the air you breathe, 

the space you take, 

the food you consume 

and the steps you am taking every day.

Your life decisions are yours, and 

people should NOT be scrutinizing every inches of other’s existence.

If you desire others to be invisible, or be put into silence, you might as well kill them.

A Short Poem

I like how he stares at me.

I like how he stares.

And his ridiculous ways

And sensible paragraphs.

I like his back glances.

I like his proximity,

So close

That sometimes I can’t see nothing

But him. Alone. You and I.

Lumpiang Hangin

Sa pagkabagot noong isang alas-dos nang hapon

Humiling ang isip ko ng kaunting atensyon

Kaya’t suot and kupas na damit at tsinelas

Kahit hindi ko alam kung saan, naisip kong maglakad.

Minsan hindi sa pagpaplano makahahanap ng solusyon

Hayaan na lang natin ang paa’y mahapo

O makakuha ng ideya sa pagsosolo

Makahanap ng lugar ang modernong bandido

Nakailang kanto pa lamang

Mga mata ko’y naumay agad

Sa halos dalawang dekadang paghakbang

Iisang tanawin pa rin ang madaratnan—

Ang tindahan ni Lola Baneng sa labas ng eskinita;

Sa aming lugar siya ang Panginoong May Lupa

Kahit sa katandaan naaninag pa rin ang ganda

Ngunit sabi ng ilan ay tumanda nang dalaga.

Ang kapilya kung saan ako lumaki

Makita ko agad sa aking pagtawid

Kilala ako nang lahat ng pumupunta dito

Mula bata, hatak-hatak ni nanang tuwing Linggo.

Kumaliwa sa katabing kabahayan

Naglakad kahit pudpod na ang swelas

Dito raw matatagpuan ang tindahan

Nahahanap ang masasarap na lumpia.

Sa pakiramdam ko’y hindi naman ako pagod

Ngunit tila ang dila’y nais na ring magtrabaho

“sige na nga”, utal sa sarili

Hinatak ako ng aking paa sa isang lamesang may tabing

“oh, ikaw na ba yung anak ni Ralf?”

Dalaga ka na ah! Bulalas ng isa.

Anong gusto mong bilhin? Nagugutom ka ba?

Isa pong samalamig, at isang lumpia.

Ilang taon ka na iha? Anong year mo na?

Hindi sila magkamayaw sa kanilang bisita.

Kamukha ko daw si papa, sabi nang lahat.

Lalo na’ng dalawang tindera sa aki’y tuwang-tuwa.

Masarap ang samalamig;

Matamis, maraming sago

Malamig, maraming yelo

Sa ginaw ay parang lumuluha ang lalagyang supot

Pagkagat ko sa lumpia

Ako ba’y iiling o tatawa?

Sabay sa pag nguya ibinaling ang tingin

Ang hindi ko nabasa sa karatula’y “Lumpiang Hangin”.

Para saan pa ang suka kung wala namang toge?

Bakit hindi ko nasulit ang tangan kong bente?

Naisip ko tuloy na lugi ako sa dose

Balat lamang ang aking nabili

Hindi na ako nakinig sa kanilang bali-balita

Sa likot ng isip tinitigan ko ang Lumpia

Bakit nga ba binibenta ang Lumpiang Hangin?

Nakabubusog ba ang balat kong nakain?

Kung nagsasalita lamang ang Lumpiang Hangin

Kakausapin nya ako’t manghihingi

Ngunit wala ako ng kanyang hanap na toge

Na pupunan sa kanyang pagkakakilanlang pagkain

Kung makikipag-usap ito, siya’y tatanungin ko rin:

Anong pakiramdam nang wala kang silbi?

Patuloy kang ibebenta sa ilan

Ngunit alam ng lumpia na sila’y nadadaya

Sa malutong na balat at walang lasang harina

Sa taglay na lutong may mga nabubulag

Pagkatapos ng magandang usapan

Hindi ko nasabing ako’y nadismaya

Salamat na rin sa lumpiang walang laman

Naisip kong ako’y katulad rin pala nya.

Lumakad muli at nagmasid

Bukas ang isip ngunit mga bibig ay pinid

Hindi ko nasabing wala akong napala

Sinalubong ako sa kalsada ng libu-libong ideya.

Pagdating sa bahay naupo sa isang lamesa

Kumuha ng papel, inihayag ang karanasan

Masaya, dahil muli napagbigyan ko

Natalo ang pagkabagot noong isang alas-dos nang hapon.

BOOK REVIEW: Bright, Catholic, and Gay by Danton Remoto

Switch channels and change your tabloids—we are already tired of cold headlines and passive-aggressive remarks of public personalities. Media has been a way for different perspectives, including the miscued and over-the-top.

Luckily, we have something that oozes with brilliance and fresh ideas. A book with 21 essays, Bright, Catholic and Gay by Danton Remoto offers us witty, disturbing, and even provoking issues that keeps you intrigued until the last page.

Being known as a founder of Ladlad Partylist, the book focuses on LGBT about everything—political stands, successes, closet lives, and social “scarlet letters”. After reading this, conservative Filipinos will get the somehow full picture of LGBT life. What’s so unique about Remoto is his (or her, there’s no politically correct pronoun yet) narrative of how ordinary gayness is. Their love of God. Partners with risks of HIV.  Finding love. The harsh and unmoderated comments on the internet. Coming out and liberation. Everything.

Back cover

Aside from that, there are queer literature and erotic fiction featured, reviewed by Remoto himself. As if a beginner’s book, it propels the readers to dig deep into the life of pink warriors. Easy-read yet sensitive, it excites you have a leap of faith delving to the almost outcasts.

Personally, I don’t have a lot of gay/lesbian friends because I barely have friends at all (haha). My circle of networks are small and neat. However, the “pink community” amuses me a lot, and the book has become a way to understand them better. They have an equally colorful lives, maybe more. Fighting against the common stereotypes, they bravely shed denial, shame, guilt, and self-loathing. As a feminist (yes, you read it right), we are in the same page on sickening gender biases and our supposed “place” in the society.

(The Breakfast Club, 1985)

Gathering his stories from all walks of life, Bright, Catholic—and Gay is a fresh look on LGBT life… from shadows, out into the light.

Wanderlust

Do people sense this cyclic living?

We were raised that for shining, we are born

On and on, from corners of streets, we cling

Understand that human is for running,

Yet in flickers and flashes we all forlorn,

Do people sense this cycling living?

Lords of cosmos considers no weeping

Everyone abides as the gods implore

On and on, from corners of streets, we cling

Earn bruises and bumps and painful screeching

Like those planets that spheres around the core;

Do people sense this cycling living?

Sensing the individual voice calling

Ignore the warnings of sirens and horn

On and on, from corners of streets, we cling

Survival depends on those cunning

As the weak and frail shatters on the floor

Do people sense this cycling living?

On and on, from corners of streets, we cling