Wednesday, June 29, 2011


Pahawa na,
lakaw na.
kay hinuon,
sa akong pag piyong,
ikaw ra man gihapon
ang akong maka hiuban.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

today marked my 1st year here in manila.

I could still remember the reasons why I migrated here in the capital from the queen city of the south. I’ve lived almost my entire life in Cebu. Spent my high school and college days there and worked for four years in the same city. Though I travelled every now and then but my home city seems to outgrow me and I feel too comfortable and too familiar with it.

I wanna be on my toes again. I want to explore those places I kept on hearing or read in the newspapers. I wanna visit those places I’ve seen in TV or from the local movies. I also want to be in a place where nobody knows my name. The idea of anonymousity really excites me. So I decided to work here in manila as it so happened our company just expanded a new site here and they need tenured employees. So my transfer and my 2 weeks hotel accommodation were shouldered by the company.

My goal of finishing my fine arts course in UP Diliman also brought me here, but until now, I wasn’t able to enroll myself due to work, weekend escapades and yes, due to procrastination.

Instead, I keep on jogging (or sometimes smoking) around UP IKOT as it’s only 5 minutes away from my rented place. And I got familiar with all the halls and I’ve been in and out in their UP cine adarna for film screenings.

If you’ll ask me where all my earnings goes to, it went to bus and plane tickets as I consider travelling as my occasional dose of morphine. Since I’m here in manila, I wanna explore the rest of Luzon. So it would justify my travel or working in abroad as I already explored and fully experienced the wonders of my own country.

The distance from manila to my home town (bantayan island) and my home city (cebu city) surely intensified my longing with my friends and loved ones. Good thing about it is that we learn how to value communication and make sure to have quality time when we are together. And one thing that I look forward in catching up with them is that I have a baggage full of stories to tell.


Wednesday, June 22, 2011

a mental walk

years of years of pieces
a reconstruction
a whole new wing dedicated
for a single moment
coherences of more than thousands
of words, of hopes and smiles
let the picture sing
as the after dark
won’t fade its twinkling lights

age marked paper
flashes its ability to preserve---
to capsulate an eternity
a remnant of memory and time

(for julio, whom i supposed to celebrate 5th year anniversay on this date)

Monday, June 20, 2011

shi(f)t happens

I had a series of neon lighted events during this week. One of those was the French film festival 2011 in Shangrila Cineplex. Then the “I’m too drunk to recognize if it was kylie minogue or not” moment in society lounge, of which I was still able to request for her video “wow” via myx music channel, then when russ arrived here in manila for a collaborative art exhibit opening in Picasso gallery.

But one thing that haunts me is when greys and I were about to go home as we encountered a man who is in the verge of desperation. He is a foreigner, I’m not certain of what origin, as his feature is very European but his accent is kinda American (maybe a US citizen of Irish decent) but one thing for certain is that he badly needed help.

He narrated his story of how he lost his wallet after their soccer tournament at Quirino grandstand. He already went to the police station to report the terrible incident but after hours of hours of investigation it didn’t made any difference, as he still need his wallet back. He also told us that he has a bus ride to catch (bound to Zambales). So he’s been wandering around Makati to seek assistance from strangers to raise enough funds.

To tell you honestly, I wasn’t able to help him at all as I already spent my pocket money and my atm is not with me. While Greys, I’ve just realized, is hobophobic. As she became stiff like a statue while I asked her if she have any extra cash, so she wasn’t able to react accordingly to the problem at hand.

I apologize to the man and bade him a silent wish that he may be able to find a way out of this pit.

That happened two nights ago. I’m wondering what happened to him after that fruitless encounter with us. Did he able to make it to Zambales? Doesn’t he have any friends/contacts here in Manila? Was he able to get help or not at all in the middle of the harsh city. How is he now?

This made me ponder what if this will also happen to me (knock on wood). what if I made it to a different country only to find out that my whole luggage is missing. I don’t have cash, no documents, and worst of all, no contacts?

Will I just jump off to a nearby bridge and wish I’m dead. Or, like the desperate man, will wander around the city like a vagabond asking for bread.

It really scares me, at the same time challenges me what’s really my full capability as a survivor (as I think I am one) I also wanted to know what’s my limit. I know shit happens as well as shift happens.

If you were in his case, how will you manage?


Saturday, June 18, 2011


The 2011 French film festival entries here in Manila was dominated by reknowned French actress Sandrine Bonnaire whose films that I’ve watched during the whole festival were Elle s'appelle Sabine, La Cérémonie and this film I’m writing about: Sans toit ni Loi

My interest with this film sparked when I’ve learned that this was released on 1985, the year that I was born. So I’m quite curious how things are going on when my cognition still haven’t pervaded my whole being.

Watched it in Shangrila Cineplex alone. I even ditched work and get reprimanded by my boss upon knowing I was gone from the office more than my lunch break sched. But the film is worth watching and it’s way different if you’re going to watch it on a big screen.

The wide shots, the plot, the style, the sullen imagery and the intense yet subtle character of Mona totally made me focus on the film from beginning ‘til the end.

The film reminds me of Jack Kerouac’s “on the road”. Although it’s been ages since I’ve read the book but I could pinpoint some parallelism with Kerouac’s novel and this film. it was presented, that being on the road is travelling on a path between freedom and loneliness. It hit me and it felt like an unexpected nemesis punched me in the stomach.


strange strangers

It’s one crazy weekend when you find yourself hopping from one event to another. My dearest ball of yarn, Russ, went here in Manila for a performance stint with renowned Cebuano artists at Picasso Gallery in Makati. Me and my date (a lady friend) Greys tried to figure out where exactly the venue is, as this part of Makati is a strange place for both of us.

Unfortunately, wasn’t able to make it during the performance and missed the opening of Contemporary Cebu at The Picasso. But not completely, we were just on time for the cocktails and catching up with the colored folks, both the artists and the attendees. Have seen new and familiar faces. Had some pica-pica and red wine. Serious talk to funny bloopers of outdoor adventures.

to cap the night, we had coffee to a strange place where we end up being strangers to that strange coffee shop.

photos by Greys Compuesto


Friday, June 17, 2011

too drunk for Kylie @ the Society Lounge

yoooh choohyce, yoooh moohsahck, maahx

with Sherwin, Ian and Jm

it was crazy. few nights from now, kylie mingue will be in manila for her Aphrodite world tour, and there was this hush hush  that she will some of the bars around the city to chill. so my friend told me who hapens to be the main chef in SL that Kylie will be around this night. yes TONIGHT! so we went to Society Lounge as early as 10pm to make sure we have a good spot before the crowd fill in the house, past midnight came and we still can't see kylie or even her shadows, til we drank too much mojotos and tequila when suddenly a lady butt in that night and the crowd cheered "Go Kylie" but the alcohol already semi impaired my empirical senses and couldnt determine if it was really kylie or some impersonator.

i just played around with my mind with the music and wish the real kylie was really there.  


Thursday, June 16, 2011

zero visibility

we both know it’s raining
farther ahead
certainties are already washed and
seeped into the ditches of our failed attempts
how could we still keep on walking
even though these steps are leading us
to the brink of a cliff
how could we both keep on moving
when we know
we will fall into our own abyss
tell me.
You once told me
you’ll hold me for the rest of your life
but while you’re breathing
I felt I’m getting further and
further into the mist

(photo taken along taytay rizal one stormy day)

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

a lost panda's day out

photo's taken by atty. joan dulhao @ banawe mt. province

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

A human mold, in a shape of one’s mentality

It was summer of my 2nd grade of elementary years when we moved to Bantayan island. At the early age of 8, I learned how to swim. then the summer a year after that, I learned how to ride a bike. I could still remember my first accident with the bike when I bumped into my grandmother’s sister’s place and ruin their fence (as well as my knees and elbows). Then during high school days, when I moved back to the city, I started to jog.

So I’m quite active all these years. Being physically fit is out of the question, but I do all these activities, apparently, to drive my inner demons away and an outlet for my ever active/restless body. Recently, just this summer. I tried going to the gym.

The idea of body building didn’t appeal to me at first, as I’m not that tall and I might end up looking like an overstuffed sausage. I’m still convinced that going swimming instead of going to the gym is much better. However, when I moved here in Manila, I had a hard time looking for a pool unlike there in Cebu, I had an easy access to their city sports complex (Abellana) where they have this Olympic sized pool. Since our office have its own gym and have so much free time in hand, I started working out. And just like swimming and biking, I learned how to the drill without any instructor.

I first started by reading the manuals, then talking with gym buddies and read some pointers over the internet. Eventually, I get acquainted and familiar with the facilities and the capacity of my body to deal with these toning/buffing machineries.

It’s on my 2nd and 3rd week that I could notice some changes in my target muscular areas. Since my lower torso is already defined, I want to improve my upper torso specially the chest area. Before it’s like a plain field, but now I could see some growing valleys as my chest starting to peak up and expand. But when I miss some sessions, then they sort of deflate and got anxious to hit gym again. It’s an ongoing project.

One time, between a series of once in a blue moon conversation with my Norwegian in-law, Thomas, we had a talk about men who go to the gym. He sort of shares the psychology behind working out. Then I was struck with his idea that a man’s body can be molded out of one’s mentality. He pin pointed that when a man works out with anger; then in effect, his body will turn out to be full of aggression to the extend people will perceive his form as scary and harsh as if his body was molded on how he based his emotion and mentality while he’s working out.

As a reaction to his discussion, I told him that I will work out with cool music. And will always have this positive outlook where the idea of love and sex will constantly drift into me. So in effect, my body will become sexy and it’s very much feasible for making love.
We just both laugh in agreement.


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