Gaps, patches and in-betweens

No fanfare. By herself. At her school registrar’s.   She received her transcript of records, glanced at the status that says: Graduated, 6 August 2026.  And just like that, she has her bachelor’s degree.  Of course the fanfare will be in Dececember for the march, which is the chance for people to visually record the ceremony. But we would not even be allowed in the building, just the graduates.  Unlike in the Philippines, we can’t even cheer for her live.  This, among others, makes it such a glaring comparison with how we deal with graduations back home.  But here is home now, too. It is different, quieter, spicier, more efficient, calmer, gentler and hopeful.  She will remain here, up north, for at least five more years. But that’s a another story.  "I am an X in an indeterminate equation. And that X is the rock upon which I stand." - Mario Puzo

I like routine.  It is dependable. Something you are sure will happen  if you don’t do anything out of the ordinary. Route  Pattern  Predictable  Usual  Standard  Basic  Regular  Boring Mine. "I am an X in an indeterminate equation. And that X is the rock upon which I stand." - Mario Puzo

It used to be a part of your identity   It’s the way you express a pause, a reflection a hesitation  It’s been how you write — a sudden detour of a thought before it brings us back to the intention. But now automation with an intelligence that we provided it  has robbed us of these en and em dashes. Now when you use them, it seems the narrative is not yours  and you have to convince your readers that you wrote the piece, nevermind if you’ve always sounded the same.  At times you are even accused of sounding AI.  But shouldn’t it be AI sounding like me? I was here first.  All 55 years of me.  But artificial intelligence is said to replace the writers  after they steal our voices, mimic our style, borrow our ideas and will eventually reboot our brains from what is real and true  to a version of it, which may just as well be a lie.  Soon, I will be done. I may forget to write or stop altogether.  And the proof of my outputs will b...

are the songs that I cannot,   for the life of me,   get the lyrics right.  We can only read them  in Songhits and music sheets which later became the Multiplex mini book  printed in size 6 font.  But it didn’t matter.  Our eyes were sharp. And eventually,  the Karaoke, with a screen  that renders our childhood TV set  with its cabinet-like sliding doors and knob,  antique in its former magnificence. The songs that whisper our secrets  and declare our existential thoughts. The ones you sang with me The ones whose lyrics we changed The ones we sat in silence with as the invisible beat throbbed  through looks across the room,  through bodies swaying to the rhythm  of the head and glass shots banging  more than the drums. And the silent mornings  when a groan from a hangover  and a sigh  promised more than any love song. The ones that don’t sound good  ...

You cannot breathe. The quiet unnerves you. The birds' chirping seem much louder than usual. You are immobile. You cannot do the laundry or vacuum and even those that do not need power,  like watering the plants, fixing your space,  being kind. There’s no electricity. You try to be productive.  You look at the forebodingly regular mop.  You think about the dishes — anyway, you still have water.  All the things you are supposed to do feel like a big effort.  You wait. Forever sets. You think about loves, lives and a little about work and how will you make do tonight  as the hot air sweeps in. Perhaps with the doors and windows open, on the cold floor praying for a cooler temperature when the sun sets. You start thinking about what you can lie down on. But you don’t get up to get the carpet.  Maybe you’ll wait for the power to come back. There is conflict at the border.  Aeroplanes are flying overhead. You think about the connection betwee...

I started watching the news. I couldn't stop. I had to open a bottle. I started drinking. I couldn't stop. And here we are.  "I am an X in an indeterminate equation. And that X is the rock upon which I stand." - Mario Puzo

how I sing my song how I play the piano how I recite the poem how I tell the story of you How I recognize you How I know it’s you I am afraid. I can only hope that my love for you will survive the pain and hurt I have caused that may make you want to forget. Please remember for me as long as you can  because pretty soon, I won’t, you see but you can. "I am an X in an indeterminate equation. And that X is the rock upon which I stand." - Mario Puzo

When fueled by anger, envy or jealousy  that blink could snap you like a twig, or hit you like a bullet a feeling, a word, a snapshot An orgasm An abortion A betrayal A heartache A stealing An excuse When healing, you need more than split seconds sometimes an eternity to bury a memory, a photo, a message In between a second to eternity you flick off the feeling of wanting to slap ruin and kill  or keep you alive. "I am an X in an indeterminate equation. And that X is the rock upon which I stand." - Mario Puzo

As I wait for my grey hair to show, I acknowledge that I have not yet found my medium.  It's been a while since a paper or screen was full, words in my head crisp, fresh and nonstop, pouring as I put them down and give them life — long form, short form, shortest forms like haikus, song, Word I also like sound, hearing or reading poetry in my head  Of voices that can caress or whip and slash at least other people’s when they carry a tune, a pitch, a rhythm, a note  because I cannot. I can only make sounds or noise on the keyboard or guitar. Ah.  Maybe it is my voice on, what? a joke in a barren tone giving no cues for laughter or pauses for applause. Or when my voice laughs, unhinged and seemingly forced Or when it speaks nasty of others Especially when it yells at my loves  before I have time to close my mouth and the sound leaves my body. It deafens me so much so that it erases all meaning of the good words — the kindness, the patience that I let go despite my ...

It was invigorating in the midst of half-naked bodies. The atmosphere exuded power. The good kind, stemming from years of being restricted and forbidden.  It reminded me of my 20s, backstage, in a dressing room of a bar with pole dancing. The room was busy — so many colors. Women bustled about with make-up and shiny clothes, or lack of it, preparing for the performance.  The difference with today’s was the sense of empowerment.  At the bar, they had to do it for work, lack of opportunity, what they thought was best for them at that time. Sometimes they would have to sit with customers and order a drink. Hopefully, they enjoyed it.  Today, they wanted to show skin. They expressed themselves on the pole for themselves. Paying for the chance to do so. It was their choice. It was the usual aerial pole dance studio.  I was just the mom waiting for the daughter with a moment of a spectacular feeling. "I am an X in an indeterminate equation. And that X is the rock upon...

It landed on my lips with the thickness of lard then I tasted the unpleasant surprise sweetness that  should never be for noodle soup. I bit through a-few-minutes-to-al-dente noodles. Even chili and vinegar could not fix the strange taste. But it was not just the taste.  It was also the feeling.  There was no joy  of eating, of tasting, of flavors. Gulping down the last of the pieces of spring onion leaves and shred of a chicken,  I stare at the chicken foot that was left in my bowl.  The almost cold soup felt like it was served by a widower at a funeral,  lost, now that the reason for his being has gone. Or being alone, in solitude in a crowd.  Or someone solving the mysterious murder of someone no one cares about.  Per Alanis Morisette, “it’s meeting the man of your dreams then meeting his beautiful wife.”  What is the point?  I wanted to complain to my daughter who was obediently finishing hers.  It took all I had to keep si...

I fear lightning even when I am inside a safe space that is my home. I fear the silent disruption of that spark of light illuminating the glum world.  The flashes within seconds jolt me and I cringe.   The thunder's announcement  to take shelter is always too late.  I fear the water during thunderstorms. That somehow, the lightning  will travel with the water through the pipes  when I shower and I end up  naked and grotesquely dead. I fear the rain  when it pours stronger than  the liquor in my gut waiting for floodwaters to rise, leaving us stranded. My front view is a swamp for a few days. And although I am still alive and life will go on the smell of rotting will seep through my lungs as the waters are about to dry. And while the sun is shining, I go out and about forgetting. And they will all soon come back and so will the fears and I have done nothing about it. "I am an X in an indeterminate equation. And that X is the rock upon which I ...

In a cocoon waiting for flight As the year turns a new chapter   And we are in our new home I am in my new role In a different country   And we soar   This year always up   On top of all the worldly woes   With more friends and no foes We are above and at peace Because finally, we do not want Our needs are met With more than enough   Love, kindness and blessings   As the universe watches us Do good to ourselves and others And at night we watch the stars flicker With a whispered lullaby   That all will be well. "I am an X in an indeterminate equation. And that X is the rock upon which I stand." - Mario Puzo

The sword has not been wielded for a time The warrior is spent Wounds still smart, it will take a few more seasons to be scars And lessons yet to be learned   The shield is still lodged in the enemy’s right shoulder   No one dares remove it They are waiting for their king to clean up the bloodbath Must I do everything? Where is everyone? Where the **** is my crown?! "I am an X in an indeterminate equation. And that X is the rock upon which I stand." - Mario Puzo

An old (older than me) couple sat diagonally from where I was on the train to Nam Tok. The man with mostly white hair was in a bright yellow shirt, blending well with the wooden seat painted a duller yellow. The woman with long black braided hair had on a straw hat quaintly decorated with two large flowers of different colors. She was also wearing a jumper and looked quite "country". When it was time for people to take notice of the tracks running atop a steep cliff, the view narrowing to rock formations that you can touch if you dared, the man went to our side, watched the view and waved to those watching the train make the trip. Coming back from Nam Tok, I was happily seated by myself enjoying my own spot for four small people, seats facing the other, on the wrong side again of the good view. I mulled over how lucky I was to be on the trip. To my right sat a middle-aged couple. The local girl and her farang husband reflected my mood. They were both just smiling the whole t...

Mahal kong bise presidente Nung nakamayan kita isang campaign mo at yung ilang segundong nagtama ang paningin natin bago umusad yung van, natameme ako. Hindi ako nakapagpasalamat. Kaya dito na lang.   Nung 2018, isang araw ng pahinga, linggo. May press con sa TV. Sinubukan kong maupo muna at makinig.  Ito yung kasagsagan ng extra judicial killings, mga atake sa mga aktibista, sa mga journalists at media, at sa mga babae. Yung panahon na bastos na bastos at baboy na baboy tayong mga babae. Pwede daw tayong reypin. Joke daw. Habang tumatagal, pabigat ng pabigat ang puso at pakiramdam ko sa bawat murang naririnig ko sa bibig ng presidente ng Pilipinas. Expression lang daw. Wala naman syang maayos na sinabi o di ko lang siguro naintindihan pero hindi ko makalimutan yung panlulumo sa bawat segundo na andun ako, nadadaig ng umaagos sa katawan kong halu-halong negatibong emosyon — galit, dismaya, lumpong damdamin, gutay-gutay na pagasa. Putang-ina mo! Puta ka! Putang ina ka! Puta! sa...

I was getting angry. It was end of the day and things didn't go well at work. It was about branding, office environment. That sort of thing. It left me tense, the back of my head hot and I dared not check my blood pressure. The office sign was off. It took three visits, a year of planning, designing, back to back meetings, permissions, Covid - and we still got it wrong.  There I was huffing and puffing with remnants of office matters. I decided to wash it off with tequila shots and two movies after my daughter forced me to do deep breathing while clearing up after dinner. In the middle of the first movie, I got a message asking me if I knew someone in Iriga. It's the next town after my parent's hometown. Five minutes drive.  A friend who is also a former colleague has been in prison after being red tagged. He was moved to Iriga from Cavite. He left Silang Tuesday evening. Plenty of time to have gotten to Iriga by now.  Nobody has heard if he arrived at the jail some 10 ho...

Revel enjoy oneself   in   a  lively and noisy way, especially with drinking and dancing   Normal every day, birds Tweet and twirl in their air dance  Able now to breathe Rivet hold (someone or something) fast so as to make them  incapable  of  movement While we stop breathing  Dying inside, lonely with Nights of black and blue  Ritual  a   series  of actions or  type  of behavior regularly and invariably followed  by   someone The moon is brightest When silver is unpolished And we’re not ready Rebel show  or   feel   repugnance  for or resistance to something I should be grateful  That I am still able to And of course, I am Also knocked off my rhythm choked, useless, powerless depressed. And on a totally different note, Anniversary reveal Let us not sit down Today for this cup of tea I do not drink tea. One Monday night on a 6th of September "I am an X in an indeterminate equat...