The Powerful Meme Generation

We are the powerful meme generation

We're the Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidts

Because we're already broke

Instead of crumbling, embracing insanity

We retreat online

Where there's an AU we can get lost in

But we keep breaking the internet

Like, somehow, going viral and amusing millions

Make up for the hilarious joke we call reality

When Children Grow Up

 When she was a kid, she had this dream. She walked out of their nipa house, wearing only her white underwear. She walked all the way to the side of the road, where the Big People were gathered. She stared at them, and they stared at her. As they continued to stare, she slowly became aware of her nudity. 

She felt shame. 

She wanted to run back and hide in their house, but her feet wouldn’t obey her. So she returned her gaze at them, scared this time. But the Big People didn’t do anything. They just continued staring. Then, they started to whisper among themselves. Then they started to point their fingers at her. She wanted to run as fast as she could, but she was glued to where she was standing, terrified. She didn’t know what to do.

Then, she woke up.

She never told anyone. It felt deviant. She didn’t think anyone would understand. She couldn’t understand it herself, so she buried it deep — along with hazy memories of kitten murders and dragonfly mutilations. 

Those dreams and memories became ghosts and haunted her from time to time. When sipping coffee, when in the middle of work, when her head was in the clouds, when in the shower, when pondering about mortality. They would appear, right at the edge of her vision.

She wondered, if circumstances were cruel, would she snicker every time she stole office supplies or kicked her neighbor’s cat? What if she were forced to grip the knife’s fatal edge to survive? Would she see those ghosts as amusing childhood recollections and not disturbing reminders of a depraved alter ego? She always wondered. What evil was she capable of?

A Misanthrope's Guide to Normalcy

 Nobody enjoys office work. Ulan is sure of it. People who say that they live for their jobs are either liars, alien species, or totally uninteresting clones. 

Turn your passion into work, they said. 

Do what you love, they said. 

Work will turn into play, they said.

Well, Ulan does just that. She writes for money, but she has not achieved that work-will-become-play level yet. Maybe she never will. How will she enjoy work when her office is not conducive for any kind of creative activity? How is she supposed to write well when all she sees are grey walls, grey ceilings, grey——

“Hey, Ulan, what’s the meaning of marooned?” her officemate interrupts her internal grumbling.

Google it, stupid.

“Huh? Uh . . . marooned is when you’re isolated on an island. Say, they were marooned in a deserted island for months, without food or fresh water. They were starving to the point of madness. They—”

“Okay, Ulan. I get it. I’m not stupid. You don’t have to make an essay, you know.”

You make me want to maroon myself on a deserted island. Asshole.

Ulan wants to punch her officemate in the face. She forces a laugh instead.

“Right. Sorry, I got carried away.”

When it comes to pretending, Ulan is one of a kind. Unless she wants to reveal her emotions, observers can never tell if she’s uncomfortable or not. She can flash the brightest smile to her least favorite colleague. She can easily form dirty jokes around men. But none can detect that she’s on her limits, every single time. Most people call it hypocrisy. She calls it public relations. Ulan knows she’s not the only one who practices that. At least, she knows herself well enough to realize that she is a hypocrite. And it’s not like she does that all the time with everybody. The fact is she’s always passive. She hardly shows interest in anybody. If she does not flash a smile here and there, she will attract more attention. She will be known as the anti-social, the freak, the enigma. It’s better this way. At least, the people around her think she’s normal, even though she knows she’s far from it.

She walks to her desk and starts working on her piece—if she can call it one. She’s supposed to submit it a day before, but she can’t think of an interesting topic. She has been writing about the same thing for months now, and she’s getting sick to her stomach. Is she cursed with writing about skincare and shoes and clinics for the rest of her life? Is she really that bad of a writer that the only job she can keep is writing for the stupid internet? Her life has become a monotonous drone. And the worst part is she does not know how to get out of this black hole.

She needs a diversion. Right away.

“Ulan! We’re going karaoke after work. Wanna come with?”

“Yeah! It’s Friday, bitch. Let’s live a little!”

Not the diversion she wants, but that would do for now.

***

“I’m addicted to you. Don’t you know that you’re toxic?”

Anne, one of the girls in her department, sang meaningfully to Paul. But their resident hottie seems oblivious. He just keeps drinking and flirting with Denise. Oh, the mechanics of love and flirtation. Ulan understands the game. She’s even aware of a few tricks (she has an unhealthy supply of romantic comedies). She just doesn’t want to waste her time on flirting; it’s too much of a hassle.

But these people . . . It’s obvious they enjoy this game—even when rejection after rejection awaits them. Britney’s provocative song is over. They have been here for over four hours now. It’s nearly midnight, and her officemates are so drunk they act crazier than usual. Ulan heads for the door and musters a cheerful tone.

“Hey, guys! I’m off! It’s late!”

She shouts through the drunken hoots of her officemates. They give incoherent acknowledgments and continue with their fun. Ulan is a little tipsy herself. Enough socializing for the week. She hails a taxi, gets inside, and gives the driver her address. She closes her eyes and hums along to the song on the radio.

Do you think you have COVID-19? DON'T PANIC.

In this time of uncertainty and health risks, we are in the constant grip of fear. It’s even more mentally and emotionally draining if you have an anxiety disorder. It’s easy to fall into a COVID-19 infection scare, especially if you’re all alone during quarantine. So if you think you do have symptoms of a COVID-19 infection, the steps below can help you handle the situation.

Although it can take up to 14 days, it can easily take only 5-6 days for the symptoms of COVID-19 to appear after getting infected. If you feel explicit symptoms such as coughing, high temperature, or difficulty in breathing, seek medical attention and call in advance:

DOH COVID-19 emergency hotlines:

02-894-COVID (02-894-26843) and 1555 for Smart subscribers

However, if you don’t have the symptoms but feel like you’re about to, take deep breaths and remember that if you have a strong immune system, your body can fight off the infection. After regaining control of your mental and emotional state, immediately do the following:

Here are ways to help manage your anxiety.

1. Distance Yourself and Monitor Your Body’s Condition

If you live alone, a self-quarantine in your home can be easily done. But if you live in a household with many family members, keep 6 feet of distance between yourself and your family members and wear a mask even inside your house. If possible, remain in your room. Avoid touching your face (particularly your eyes, nose, and mouth), and get plenty of sleep. In the meantime, try to contact friends, families, or acquaintances in the medical profession and ask for their advice and professional opinion regarding your condition.

2. Strengthen Your Immune System

During your self-quarantine, do everything to boost your immune system and help your body fight off the possible infection. Eat healthy meals, take vitamins, and get proper sleep. If your symptoms have passed after a few days, try to get tested in a licensed COVID-19 testing laboratory near you to make sure you’re infection free.

LIST OF LICENSED COVID-19 TESTING LABORATORY IN THE PHILIPPINES

3. Seek Medical Help

When a few days have passed and your condition is worsening instead of easing, seek medical attention right away.

The DOH COVID-19 emergency hotlines are 02-894-COVID (02-894-26843) and 1555. 

You can ask questions if you suspect you’re infected or request assistance. According to DOH, “the information collected from emergency calls is transmitted to the COVID-19 Emergency Operations Center and other relevant agencies for immediate facilitation and response.”

Wait for advice from COVID-19 Emergency Operations Center on how to proceed with your COVID-19 test to see if you are infected. These emergency hotlines are free 24/7 services.

What to do next when you turn out to be negative?

1. Seek Reassurance

Although you’re safe from the infection, the anxiety can still be eating you up. Don’t let it overwhelm you. Once again, talk to family or friends with medical background and look to them for reassurance of your condition. This can help a lot in stabilizing your mental state. 

2. Look After Your Health and Be Alert

• Stay at home as much as possible.

• In situations when you need to go out, always wear a mask.

• Avoid crowds and gatherings of 10 or more people.

• Avoid all non-essential travels.

• Keep 6 feet of distance between yourself and others.

• Wash your hands frequently with soap and water (hand sanitizer must contain at least 60% alcohol).

• Avoid touching your face (particularly your eyes, nose, and mouth).

• Get plenty of sleep — this helps support your immune system.

3. Monitor Your Body

Always have a thermometer ready so that you can monitor your body temperature whenever you need to. This can easily become compulsive, so do this in moderation. 

4. Stay Informed

It’s better to know your enemy than to remain in fear and speculation. Monitor the progress of scientific responses to COVID-19 as well as what’s happening in your community. Misinformation is rampant online (especially in social media), so stick to trustworthy sources such as legitimate news publications or official notices coming from your local government. This can also become compulsive, so check the news in moderation. If you start to feel overwhelmed, step away from the media and social media.

5. Stay Connected

If you have companions in this pandemic, then that’s a great form of support. But if you are by yourself, make an effort to connect with friends and family through calls and social media. Different people react to isolation in different ways, and not all of them are healthy reactions. Keep a small circle of people you trust and communicate with them regularly — or whenever you need support from another human being. As someone who has anxiety and has bouts of infection scare, I’m constantly paranoid to the point where I imagine my own mortality. But knowing I have people I can turn to in my lowest point helps me to keep going. You will be okay too.

 

References:

DOH Launches COVID-19 Hotlines 1555, 02-894-COVID

List of Licensed COVID-19 Testing Laboratory in the Philippines

Coronavirus Anxiety: Coping with Stress, Fear, and Worry

To Every Agoraphobic Who's Trying to Be Brave

I drank coffee outside today

With burnt toast on the side

And the sun on my face

It was dreadful; I was exposed

Anyone could walk by and see

The me I was not prepared to show

But the wind felt good on my hair

And music was calming company

So I gulped down the fear

And asked the flitting little bird

To lend me some courage to face the world

Memories of a Dragonfly

There's a dragonfly zooming around as I'm drinking coffee.

Haven't seen one in a long time.

My last vivid memory was when I was a child playing in our neighborhood.

I caught a dragonfly and pulled its wings out one by one.

Then I caught another.

And another.

And another.

All the while I was giggling.

Fascinated.

Entranced.

For the Boy Whose Name Holds Spring

Sunshine in your smile

Starlight in your eyes

Ocean waves in your hair

A galaxy in your palm

Precious,

Now that you're with the stars,

Though our nights remain cold,

I hope you shine brighter

Are warmer

Finally content among the solace

Of the constellations

###

For Haruma Miura.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow

You will do it

Tomorrow

You'll be great

Tomorrow

You will find

Enough strength to create

Don't cry,

Dear one,

For the spoiled chances

Of today

I'm sure tomorrow

The morning birds will sing

For you to become something

The Faults of Modern Aegis

Drowning in the comforts

You imprisoned yourself in,

You see nothing else

Beyond towers of luxuries

And mobile alerts for food deliveries

You think you're untouchable

Because commodities are always available

But you go to bed

With heartbeat thumping loud,

Dread swallowing you whole

You're okay, right?

Everything's okay.

Just okay.

As you blast that AC today,

You take the time to use

Your temporary unlimited data

And peek outside your feeble walls

And you begin to fear

How much longer

Can your modern fortress hold?

Ingat, Halong, Amping

We've said "ingat," "halong," "amping" instead of "goodbye" to friends and loved ones years before the covid pandemic. But it has borne a heavier, deeper sentiment the moment Duterte is sworn into presidency. I remember reading, at the start of his term, about people who lived through the Marcos dictatorship, saying they fear it will be Martial Law once again. That was disturbing. Now, just a few days ago, Sotto was quoted saying there won't be a need for Martial Law when the Anti-Terrorism Bill is passed. Doesn't that say much about their real intention in drafting this Terror Bill?

We continue living our sheltered lives in eerie calmness while thousands are robbed the right to say "ingat" to their loved ones one last time. We've been living in fear all this time as greedy politicians destroy our country from the inside while giving away our sovereignty to imperialists left and right. Can you really say you live free when you craft your words, actions, opinions to appease those in power? Because mere dissent can cause you your life?

This year's June 12 doesn't inspire poetry nor nostalgia about hard-fought independence nor fiery national pride. But there's a spark of wrath slowly building inside the people who have been used and prostituted long enough. There's a glimmer of hope that true patriotism (untainted by blind allegiance to political oligarchs or manipulative politicians) is not totally snuffed out from the people's core.

So what I'm trying to say is fuck the Terror Bill.

Oh and Happy Independence Day, I guess.

Pagod Ngunit Patuloy na Lalaban

Bakit ba tayo umaasa na gagawin ng self-serving politicians at government officials kung ano ang nakakabuti sa masang Pilipino? Lahat sila trapo. Lahat sila tuta. Lahat sila pansariling interes ang priority at hindi ang mga Pilipino na siyang tunay na dapat pagsilbihan nila.

Patuloy tayong ginagago, at patuloy din tayo umu-oo't nagpapagago. Wala tayong ginagawa kasi "ganyan talaga eh, ano pa bang maaasahan mo?" No. Break free from that way of thinking. Let's not stay complacent. Let's practice the culture of demanding accountability and competence from the politicians we put in those positions to serve us.

Why should we tiptoe around them? Why should we be afraid to offend them? They should be ashamed for disappointing us, for letting this evil proliferate, for turning a blind eye on extra-judicial abuses and killings, for being anti-poor, for letting one man dissolve the separation of powers, for allowing a dictator to terrorize the masses, for letting our sovereignty be threatened by foreign bullies. Walang hustisya sa bansang 'to. Walang accountability. Let's not keep it that way.

Let's stop tolerating incompetence, injustice, and bullshit from the government. Let's use our voices to speak up for ourselves and our country -- and especially for the unheard. Let's speak up so that all politicians and government officials know we're fed up. We're angry. We're watching. And there will be a reckoning.

BE ANGRY

I know it's exhausting to be angry. But the moment you stop being angry and accept all the injustices happening is the moment you surrender your right to live free. Because this government will not stop hurting the people. The psychopaths in power won't stop stepping on our human rights and using the law whenever it's convenient and advantageous for them. They won't stop protecting their hounds - - all the while spitting on the disenfranchised. We're being beaten down, bleeding on the dirt. Tell me, if we don't get angry and bite back, do we just bleed to death and rot unnoticed? I refuse. I'll remain angry until everyone wakes up and declares enough, until everyone clamors to take back our country.

Stray Eyelashes and Such

I stopped believing wishes would come true.
I used to try hard—
We all did.

Jump high
        every New Year.
Blow candles
        on birthday cakes.
Blow away
        stray eyelashes from your face.
Close your eyes
        after seeing a falling star.
Hold your breath
        when crossing a bridge you've never crossed before.

What did you wish for?
What did I wish for?

What do I wish for?

It all seems ridiculous now.
Wishes.
Our bizarre rituals to make them happen.

When did it all start to go sour?
Why did we stop believing?
Why did I?

We grew up, that's why.
Really.
It all seems laughable now.
Futile.

But it was magical, wasn't it?
Back when we still whispered wishes—
Our well-guarded secrets passed on to the wind—
And hoped the forces of the universe
Could make them happen
Somehow.

The illusion was good while it lasted.

I Started Writing for Myself Again

I started writing fan fiction. I'm terribly insecure about it though. I've read dozens of fanfics, and most of them are good enough to be novels. I feel like I'm throwing my child to a playpen full of popular kids who wouldn't give them a second glance no matter how many times they ask to be friends. 

My fic remains unnoticed, and it's funny because it's the perfect illustration of my attempts at writing prose and poetry. At least I finished it. It's all that matters. I think I'll continue writing fics because it makes me kind of happy. They'll just be more additions to this huge pile of poems and stories nobody is interested to read. Oh, right, my friends read them sometimes---although I'm not sure if they really like my writing or they just feel obligated.

World Poetry Day 2018

I only have this for World Poetry Day this year. :(

Ever wonder why clouds are a stuff of daydreams?
How a bundled mass of condensed vapor can trigger
Thoughts of floating and flying and escape?
Is that why people like me look out of windows
And stare at the sky?

Endlessly.
Pining for an illusion we can't grasp.

For what are clouds, really?
That they can make us feel free and shackled at the same time?
They're just haze.

Just.

But I still sigh as I look out my window and burn holes at the sky.

Abrasion

Sometimes, an abrasion hurts the most.

That thin film of skin scraped from the flesh. That stinging wound too shallow to trigger blood.

She used to play tag a lot. She was a small and clumsy kid, so she scraped her knees and legs more times than she could count. She would limp home to her mama, and she would get treated and scolded at the same time. It was a painful routine, spattered with tears and blood. She hated abrasions more than anything because they left the skin tender and sensitive, stinging, bleeding only when she forced it to. Her mama always said she needed to let the wound bleed out, so it wouldn’t get infected. She was relieved when she would finally see blood—because then, it would be like her other wounds. But then again, she scraped her knees and elbows too many times she can’t remember when she stopped crying because of them.

It was different when her lip was split open, though. She was six. She had never seen so much blood in her life. It dribbled down to her clothes all the way to her underwear. There are only flashes now, but she remembers tasting the saltiness of tears and blood and the bitterness of crushed malunggay leaves the adults applied as first aid to her burst lip. She went home to her mama, bawling. She only remembers showing her mother her blood-stained underwear. Despite the pain and tears, she couldn’t help but be fascinated by it. The memory ended there. She forgot how that wound healed and became another permanent oddity she has to live with for the rest of her life.

She wears the scars today like badges. She has survived that level. She proudly shows them and tells stories like she has survived a battle. Because that’s what growing up is—a battle against others, against the self. A battle to try to accept you and your beautiful imperfections enough for society to leave you a space in the world. But who would have thought that the next level would be dull and exhausting? That the wounds she would get as she grew older would be invisible—no cut, no blood, no visible infected area to apply malunggay leaves and ointment to? No one prepared her for this. No one told her that the battle she has to wage now is against the gnawing in her gut, the clawing in her throat, the palpitations that grip her core too often she can’t distinguish them from the rhythm of her own heart.

Sometimes, little things hurt the most.

The quiet desperation.

The perennial confusion.

The silent pleas for oblivion.

She hated abrasions the most. But now, she finds herself wishing—more often than she dares to admit—for any kind of cut on her tired body. For droplets of red to slowly trickle down her skin. For any sign that she still exists. And then she weeps. Because if she is existing for nothing, why can’t the void consume her and just give her the hushed darkness her exhausted soul desperately cries for?

Mitolohiya: a Book in Progress

Uhm, this post is waaaay overdue. I didn't realize it's been rotting in my drafts for years. Lol.

So as I hinted before, here's the digital version of the project I and Jissa Totesora did together for her Dream Project, any artform---illustration, photography, animation, film---that the student is passionate about. Since I share this passion with Jissa, I decided to help out by writing the content for her illustrations. :)

We hope to turn this into a legit book someday, but for now, this is already kind of an accomplishment. XD

Enjoy! <3

The Dark and Fascinating World of Philippine Mythology

I have always been the person who yearns to escape from this reality. The toil of living in it every day is overwhelming and exhausting. It suffocates me. That is why I seek refuge in other realities---books, movies, and fiction in general. This desire for escape is probably the reason why I’m drawn to Philippine myths and legends. Most Filipinos are crazy over  mythos from other countries that they disregard the beauty and magic of their own mythology.

Philippine mythology is more than the aswang that hunt for intestines and unborn babies. It is much more than the clichés movies and television feed to the masses. There is a rich culture behind the tales and legends whispered to us when we were kids. Yes, our parents might have used them to keep us from staying out late. (I read this study that Filipinos use fear as a form of discipline. And hell, it’s effective!) But once I’ve resigned myself to the realization that there's nothing I can do about the dark and the creatures that lurk in it, these stories about engkanto and other lower mythos have become my salvation from the endless torture of the mundane. 


Call me crazy, but I choose to believe they exist. This magical reality---which consists of dark, beautiful creatures hidden from our consciousness---is far more exciting than taxes and 9-5 work schedules. So, why can’t I succumb to its seductive charm?

New Literary Acquisitions + Cebu Zine Fest 2017 Haul

All right. Here's my not-so-regular update on my new books and graphic novels. Haliya Publishing recently launched Kabuwanan, an anthology of seven comics---all illustrated by komikeras. I pre-ordered online and saw that The Friend Zone is also available. I have extra money, so naturally I ordered that one too. Hahahahaha. God, I'm gonna die and rot in a pauper's grave.

 Anyway, read along now.

The Friend Zone by Noel Pascual and Mervin Malonzo is fucked up. That's all I'm going to say as I stare into space and contemplate on the extent of human desperation. 

Another signed copy from Mervin Malonzo! Yaay! :p

Now this, Kabuwanan, is awesome sauce! (expression taken from Andy in Parks and Recreation. lol.) A comics anthology all written and illustrated by women? Hell yea!

I love every story, but my favorites are "haiszXt" by Hulyen, "Majica Baja" by Laraine Gazmen and Hannah Puyat, and "Sutlang-Dila" by Emiliana Kampilan. <3 

 "Sutlang-Dila" made me tear up. Seriously. If "haiszXt" is everything that I am, "Sutlang-Dila" is everything I want to be. TT I've always fantasized that I was a babaylan in one of my previous lives. Sigh. How do I begin to explain "Sutlang-Dila"? It's . . . It's . . . galvanizing! Its combination of the country's history and mythology is exquisite. Ms. Emiliana can go on and write a whole series about Sutlang-Dila, and I swear I'll buy every fucking issue.

Come on, look at how badass she is! I love her almost as much as I love Alexandra Trese. <333

You can order Kabuwanan, The Friend Zone, and other Haliya Publishing/Mervin Malonzo titles at mervstore.com. 


Okay. Wooh. Moving on, I stopped by Zine Fest this evening, and I was glad I only brought a couple of hundreds because if I brought more, I would've spent every fucking peso on zines and artworks again. Hahahahaha.

PS: I got this anthology a few weeks ago, and there's only one story left before I'm done reading. Look it up in your local bookstores---that is, if you like having dark smoke hovering on your head before you sleep. :3

That's all for now. 
Later. Annyeong. Jaane. Hanggang sa susunod na kabanata. x

Of Desires and Secret Messages

I stare into space once again,

A habit I cannot let go.
My mind is foggy and my breathing shallow.

Suspended in time---I float and wallow.
Open secret dimensions, I beg of you.

Bring me to eternal sunsets, and let me dance in fairy lights.
Only then will I be able to---might be able to---breathe freely.
Rain is in forecast, is it not?
Escape---since we cannot disappear into an another here, will you do it then?
Dance in the rain with me?