Monthly Archives: October 2014

Dear Anna

Standard

Dear Anna,

It’s been two years since I first met you. A friend of mine introduced me to you along with your friends Joel, Marlowe, Steph, Eric, Masi, and Shine.You take your coffee with cream kinda like how I do and I knew right there and then that we could be such good friends.

                We share the same bitterness, I guess. Kaya siguro I needed to know you better. We saw our exes being unrightfully happy in front of us and it fucking sucks. Pero narealize ko na even assholes have the right to be happy. Well, you were theone who broke up with Ed so SUCK IT UP.

Eto namang si Masi  ikakasal sa ex mong si Ed. That’s awkward. Who in their right mind would want to witness their ex getting married to their ownclose friend? Isn’t there some kind of girl code for that? But yeah, kelan ba nagingsimple ang magmamahal?

Malamang ngayong alam mo nang may feelings si Joel sa’yo. The big question is: do you love him, too?

Ano nga ba ang love? Marami nang tao ang nag-attempt sumagot nito. Naniniwala akong love is subjective; may kanya-kanya tayong definition nito. Love is a choice, I always say. Choice mo kung ire-reciprocate mo ang coffee-laced confession ni Joel sa’yo. Choice mo kung hahayaan mong ma-stuck ka sa past. Choice mo if you set yourself free.

Magmula nung naging bitter ako, naniniwala akong men and women can’t be bestfriends. Kasi eventually, may mai-inlove sa kanila. In your case, kayong dalawa. Hahaha!In denial ka lang, bruha ka. Hindi kita masisisi. Siya mismo ang nagsabing loveis an illusion at isang ideal na di dapat ma-attain. Ano bang panama mo dun?

Pero eto ang mapapayo ko: Let yourself be happy. It’s time.

From your friend in another existence,

Mai

PS: Tigilan mo na yang stress eating mo, punyeta ka. Alam kong you crave for weirdly rare food in the most ungodly hour. Sinigang na hipon at 3 in the morning? Seriously?

Advertisements

Poem: I’m Never Gonna Marry A Writer

Standard

I’m never gonna marry a writer
He’s perceptive
At one time
he’ll gaze and stare
into the depths of my soul
only to find out
that I’ll be one of his characters
in the next theater season

I’m never gonna marry a writer
He’s mercurial
At one point he’ll pour all his attention to me
and the next
his hands will be on his pen
scrawling the current good idea he has
on his handy dandy notebook
before it flees into the air

I’m never gonna marry a writer
Because I am a writer myself

Book Review: 11/22/63 by Stephen King

Standard

I’ve always been fascinated with time-traveling and alternate universes. Not that I’ve cut through the cloth of time and have disrupted the time-space continuum, let alone have seen my evil version in another existence. (She’d probably have ultra-straight hair and a corporate sell-out.)

 

My interest with it, as you might have guessed, started with DC and Marvel comic books. But I wasn’t one of the kids who avidly followed each installment. My brother was. Whenever he would finish a comic book, he would retell it to me with all his hand gestures and facial expressions. I’d go wide-eyed at how MARVELous (The pun was already there. I just had to do it.) these comic book heroes were.

 

But I wasn’t that much emotionally invested on these characters. I was more interested on these different stories with essentially the same heroes but end up with different conclusions all because they made different decisions. Each decision meant a different timeline, a different universe, a different outcome, a different life.

 

With these comic books running for decades, this was bound to happen.

 

As young as nine years old, I listened to my brother explain these multiverses as plainly as he could so that I could understand. And understand I did.

 

11/22/63: The reading experience

 

            JFK’s assassination has brought about many conspiracy theories which led me to be curious about its details. With his assassination date as the title of this novel, I instinctly felt it was either a period novel about the early sixties OR a time-travel science fiction novel. It was both.

 

            Following the story wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. His premise was simple. The rabbit hole, the spot where they’d go back in the past, will always lead them to September 9, 1958. Each time will be the first time. Each time will be a reset, undoing whatever they’ve changed in the previous trip. But when Jake aka George Amberson tried to change the past, it met him with challenges.

 

The past is obdurate. It doesn’t want to be changed.

 

There were details, especially regarding references to the pop culture and current events in the late 50s to early 60s that I didn’t understand. But I just googled them.

 

…hit enter and let Google, that twenty-first century Big Brother, take care of the rest

 

And Stephen King slyly wrote in Jake Epping to Derry, Maine – the setting of his novel about a malevolent, fear-sucking alien, It. If you are a die-hard fan of this sumbitch, you’d shit bricks when you come across familiar characters who were mentioned and appeared in the novel. Seriously, I wasn’t a fan until I read this magnum opus, but I still dropped my jaw.

 

The ending rendered me hopeful. I wouldn’t want to spoil you with details. Let’s just say it used a circular plot.

 

It was a roller coaster ride of emotions. It was sprinkled with suspense, horror, drama, action, comedy, and romance. I could say it was the whole package.

 

 

In The Final List for the 2014 Davao Writers Workshop

Standard

It really is true in this timeline. I really am a fellow for the Davao Writers Workshop.

It’s been a couple of days since I started reading Stephen King’s 11/22/63 and I’ve been feeling out of sorts. I won’t spoil you with any details but let’s just say the novel deals with time traveling. And every time I read stories about time travel, my mind goes out of whack.

Sometimes, I’ve actually felt like I’ve done a task only to hear my dad or niece say I definitely didn’t do it. Or sometimes, I didn’t do things but actually did them. I dunno. I feel like I’m in and out of some time warp.

So, when I found out I’ve been chosen as a fellow for the 2014 Davao Writers Workshop, I’ve been expecting some sort of portal where I get to go back into my real timeline when this didn’t happen.

And then they posted the list.

It wasn’t just a dream! It really did happen.I actually did get that email. I really am on the list.

I will finally get to go to Davao and visit Duterte’s city which I heard is pretty awesome since they actually practice CLAYGO (Clean As You Go) in the entire city. They also have UP Press Bookstore which sells books published by the UP Press and written by sought-after writers in the country. I’m definitely excited to visit other bookstores there as well.

But I’m much more excited for the workshops. It’s my first time to participate in one outside my hometown.I wonder how the other participants would be like. I wonder if they’d be friendly or if they have pipes up their asses. I do hope we all could get along pretty well. We’re only 14 participants so we might as well be amicable, right?

A part of me feels like it’s pretty daunting. But I’ve got Abby with me. No, no lesbo action there. We’re both straight. Plus, Diko works there as well so I’m not afraid to get lost in the city. Besides, if I do get lost, I’ll just toot my whistle. That’ll make the police running towards me, I hope.

I’m also psyched to meet the panelists and the organizers. Their reputations precede them. I wanna ask for tips and suggestions how to maintain an event such as Poetry Night, among other things.

Right now, I’m mentally preparing myself to see and hear my poems be torn and severed right in front of me. I know it’ll hurt but it’s a necessary evil an aspiring writer must undergo in order to hone one’s craft. I always take critiquing as an act of love between a mentor and a student.

Here’s looking forward to an eventful and fruitful workshop in Davao!

Peace out! 🙂

Poem: May – December

Standard

The only wrinkles that you have

are those lines along the

corners of your eyes

when you smile

unlike her

Your countenance strengthens me

the might of

a thousand Spartans cannot match me

You hands

are smooth, unblemished by the

wash cloths and the dish soaps

the detergent you’ll be

handling soon enough

And yet beside you, I am

ancient

It is apt she calls this

May-December

You are summer

and I am at the tail end

of seasons

Soon, I hope

you, like a phoenix,

will rise

and I will remain

with her

Poem: Geyser

Standard

This is one of the poems I submitted to the Davao Writers Workshop with a little tweaks.

**********************************************************************************************************

Geyser

 

I am used

to having

hands around my waist,

fingers around my neck,

different lips

pressed

against

mine.

They

chug

me

down

to

the

last

drop

 

and

then they

leave

me

empty.

 

But one night

you

– in your mint condition –

dropped

 

You kept your

 

lips

 

to yourself

 

but you

 

sunk

deep.

 

An awkward silence.

 

Your light

 

against my

 

dark

 

bubbled out

 

of the surface.

 

Followed by

 

a spectacle

 

only you

 

and I

 

share.

 

A geiser.

 

A purge.

 

And then

 

you

 

slowly

 

dissolved

 

into me.

 

They said

 

I would ruin you.

 

They didn’t

 

tell me it

 

was the other

 

way around.

What do you think about it? Please do tell me.

Peace out!