Wednesday, February 26, 2014

One Nihilism

Dear friends, 

Knew why we're flocking together. Knew why we're killing the same amount of time and emptiness. We have a magnetic attraction. WE'RE ALL HOLLOWS INSIDE. There is a BLACK HOLE inside of us revolving and growing slowly like the universe. We realize it 'cause we bear it. And hell cheers even to the meteors of the other space, we would rather not discuss. Think we could all fill it with liters of coffee or beer, gay to legit liquors, with French fries or cupcakes, with nimbuses of smoke, or even with the thin air we breathe in the same sanctuary where we do the transcending sit and stare. But we acknowledge we're doing bullshit stacking up a monster BLACK HOLE. We accept it, we're all HOLLOWS in our chest. Sometimes, I compare us to a used match - quarter dead and black. But I wanna try one day putting a live match back in its box. Thinking it's hella light up others too, and together make one collaborative fire. Think it's not bad, we just can't burn backwards. And we're not children of of god to worry our ass out; the floating ashes are our religion. We’ll be souls light and thin, and a fucked up gravity will take us to whatever galaxy we all long desired to be.

Photo courtesy of

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Calling from a Wooden Horse (木馬)

I just felt really crapped by my condo-mates (due to little misunderstanding) and disappointed with how our pitch in the agency turned out - it was a total mess, I guess. From Makati, I went home in Batangas even it was planned then that I would be going to ChinaTown the next day (a holiday) to welcome the Chinese New Year. My original buddies also backed out lately, and so it was cancelled then and kind of depressed me.

Early the holiday itself, I was all feeling hopeless. I woke up quite late in the morning by the loud sounds coming from the speakers of the TV in the living room. It was the noise of firecrackers and drums for the dragon dances that had been starting, in a place that's totally miles away from my bed. The broadcaster was also interviewing feng shui experts about lucky charms, omens and other traditional beliefs. I said to myself while wiping morning mess on my eyes, "no, I can't let this pass and regret soon that I didn't pursue on things I truly wish to do while young." And so I got up.

My breakfast was the pleasing I made to my friend Karen to push through Bindondo Street Getaway with me - lucky I perfectly have a friend who's just one text away, a friend who possess same wavelength and mantra (she's a Metal Sheep though). Met up quite late in the afternoon, we rode the train as the sun goes down on us, though I wasn't actually losing my drive and hype. I was feeling blissful inside as the sound of hushing train runs through my eardrums and as we sliced through history-spiced Manila, oh Manila.

Holiday-goers beside Carried train station. © Mon Umali
Truly delighted with these lanterns. © Mon Umali

And the rest is a story. The unstoppable fire-cracking and dancing of dragons and lions in every corner of Ongpin Street. As the dragon glided through the crowd and pass through us, all the bitterness and sorts of load that we're carrying were driven away. I felt renewed and firm, piled up, fixed. I felt a healing of my long-searching soul, gratification and a sense of direction.

I would have been superb if I didn't forget to bring my camera, and if there was a lot more space on my phone to capture the colors and vibe of the moment, a perfect chance to practice my true passion - street photography. But I still believe it was a good start. Sometimes, I just have to run it through and feel it.

So cheers for a new year, a lucky year I wish for a Water Rooster like me. Happy Chinese New Year of the Wooden Horse! Kung Hei Fat Choi! ;)

Along Ongpin Street in one of the historical towns in Manila. © Karen Adiova.


Cold sweat,
cold breath.
- just some flashes of youth triggered in me as I saw kids playing seesaw on TV.

Why was our high so high?
The feeling that we would almost rocket to the sky
and grab the clouds by our hand;
the thump of thrill in our stomach
as we let go of the grip and brush through the air;
the wind that wipes and dries up the sweat on our skin;
the cold of the grass when our feet press on it;
the sudden bump to the ground;
the impact to our butt;
the moving of our joints;
the climaxing sound of hinge;
our ego;
our desire for highness;
our power;
our childishness.

I ask, what's the difference of feeling so high and feeling so low when we were young?