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Showing posts from August, 2011

What I picked up on my way to the meat section

Last Sunday, upon the suggestion of the boyfriend I went to the grocery to finally stuff my refrigerator with real food. For the past several months, I’ve been subsisting on carideria take-outs, tapsilog, and noodles. I also lost a spectacular amount of weight, which, I think is good. I no longer have to run twice a week to upset the calories I’ve been imbibing because of constant beer drinking. But I think the weight-loss can also be attributed to the fact that I have two dogs, an actual busy schedule and an entire apartment all to myself, which means that I’m the only one who does all the cleaning. But I digress.

So there I was at the grocery picking up the necessary items: eggs, butter, bread, etc. I was in front of the meat section wondering what to order when I realized that it doesn’t really matter what I pick. It will just rot like the bangus my mother gave me two months ago, which, I just remembered is still inside the freezer. The fact is I don’t know how to cook. And yes, a…

it tastes like shit

I could taste depression in my mouth. But I’m done with being depressed. Too painful. I think I’m just going to wash it off with Red Horse and call it a night. This has been, so far, one the worst weeks of the year.

pissed off thursday

It’s pissed off Thursday. Got my salary but most of it went to dog food and bills. I went home, cleaned the house, and went out again to Tomas Morato to meet the boyfriend. I could feel stress crawling like worms inside me. I need a bonggang-bonggang massage. But you see here’s the weird thing. I’m still looking for things to be pissed about like I want to finally push that detonator and blow myself to smithereens.

Night in day

I was walking home, the mid-noon sun bearing down on me. There was light everywhere and suddenly I was reminded of this poem by Joseph Stroud.


Night in Day

The night never wants to end, to give itself over
to light. So it traps itself in things: obsidian, crows.
Even on summer solstice, the day of light’s great
triumph, where fields of sunflowers guzzle in the sun—
we break open the watermelon and spit out
black seeds, bits of night glistening on the grass

Read this almost a decade ago but it still speaks to me.

to my darling wife leon...

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"To my darling wife, Leon, whom I love more than any man has ever loved another man in all eternity..."

- al pacino, dog day afternoon

please tell me

Please, please tell me if there is something that I should know, if there is something that I am missing. Is the universe keeping secrets from me? Should I prod a little deeper, search a little further? Is it hidden beneath the flesh? Should I pry it open and swim into my wounds? Is it hidden beneath the sidewalk? Is it in the very air that I breathe? I am practically lost. I seem to be walking around in circles. Really, is there something good for me? Tell me, is there something that I should know?

how to wake a sleeping lover

The sun pierces through the curtain, turning the light into a happy yellow. He kneels down before his sleeping lover and looks at him. He touches his eyebrows, carefully tracing where the hair begins and where it ends. He realizes that at certain angles he could see parts of himself on his face. Isn’t that usually the case, he thought, we always find clues and hints of ourselves in our lovers? He softly kisses him on the lips and whispers something in his ear. The lover responds absent-mindedly. He smiles.

He looks at his naked body and admires its slenderness, its softness, the curves that his bent leg makes, and the hollow spaces here and there. Spaces he has already conquered but would and could never own. He wraps his arms around his body and run his fingers across his chest and, because it is already mid-noon, tries to wake him up in the gentlest way possible.