Showing posts from June, 2015

Paalam Chichi

Chichi 2010 - 2015

“In the course of the experiment, that chimp had a baby. Imagine how her trainers must have thrilled when the mother, without prompting, began to sign to her newborn.
Baby, drink milk.
Baby, play ball.
And when the baby died, the mother stood over the body, her wrinkled hands moving with animal grace, forming again and again the words: Baby, come hug, Baby, come hug, fluent now in the language of grief.” 
- Amy Hempel, In the Cemetery Where Al Johnson is Buried

But Chichi, I’m still not fluent in the language of grief. And I miss you. And we all feel so alone without you. 

On Becoming

“I remember: becoming.”
That’s how writer Thomas Glave puts it in his book “Words to Our Now” when he revisited the time when he was still a young black gay man. He was then slowly realizing that his gender, sexuality and race could basically serve as invitations to danger, exclusions, and cruelty.
Not evolving. Not learning. But becoming. As if he is slowly being shaped by what he sees, by what he experiences in his world.
“... as in those lonely discovering days I sought so many beyond the infuriating sheen of cold blue eyes that were so sure they had the power to make me disappear they even had me convinced. Vanish, that coldness said, “Vanish” – and I did, partly unmindful of injustice; always preferring life among the invisible, particularly if they’re my own. I remember: becoming.”
The word struck me hard because I remember becoming, too. When I was younger and didn’t know well, I didn’t just yield to what my surroundings were instructing me to do. I became what…


I've got three heavy bags and one large plastic container. That's where all my books are stored until I find an apartment tomorrow morning. Yes, we're moving once again. After spending three Christmases and three New Year's Eves we're, well, not exactly moving up, but moving on. I can't say that I am not excited about moving to another apartment. I just have too much bad memories in this one. What's amazing though is how much stuff we have accumulated after three years. I remember moving to this apartment with a bag of clothes and a few things stuffed inside my mother's van. Now, it would probably take us a truck before we could finally haul everything out. I'm not sure if it's a literal metaphor of how my boyfriend and I had grown through the years but something tells me it's a positive thing. Well, positive in a metaphorical sense but certainly not literally as I can't seem to figure how I'll have enough energy to carry these thin…

2am panic

alas-dos na ng umaga. wala pa rin akong maisip na ipi-pitch at deadline na mamaya. gusto ko naman talaga mag-pitch eh kaso i've been so damn depressed these past few days (weeks, years...). i feel like i'm swimming in this sea of negativity. daming kuwento actually pero hindi lang talaga for public consumption. gusto ko nga i-post ito sa facebook kaso nahihiya ako. i've long stopped posting personal things on facebook where most of my acquaintances are. yes, acquaintances even the closest friends are now just acquaintances because they have ceased to know what's going on with me these past few years. nagpapa-pitch pa naman ng romcom. romcom? eh anti-love nga ako eh. anti-hugot lines and i hated that thing called shitty movie because i think, i think romance is opium for the filipino masses. kapag na-in love ka nga naman sa gitna ng kahirapan para ka na ring nag-win sa wowowin. so i'm drinking now in the hopes of punching out something from my atrophied brain. noth…