Poetry

Inosenteng nagaantay lang naman ako mapuno itong bus papuntang market market, bakit kailangan kong matanaw at masaksihan ang karumal dumal at walang sawang paghahalikan ng dalawang taong nagmamahalan, putangina

Mas okay na 'to.

Torn ako on what to pursue, media or government. Pero mas okay to na suffering kesa sa struggle ni Caris sa World without End ni Ken Follet kung saan torn sya between staying a nun to fulfill a service greater than her own o ang magpadala sa kalibugan nya kay Merthin. Mas okay na 'to, Lord. Thank you.

Coffee Break

I am revising a manual, it would not save the world, but it could probably restore a life, but the recommended draft revision is overwhelming, I could not seem to construct a proper sentence, so I stand and go to the pantry, check myself on the mirror, made myself a coffee, all the while fixing my gaze on the mirror, what a vain, no? A co-worker joined in and as we mixed our coffee creamer and sugar in the cup, he asked the most random question, "Are you happy with what you are doing?" And I could have cried hot tears and pour it in on my coffee, what would it taste like, I wondered, would it be scalding, tasteless, baseless, bitter, bitter with a pint of saltiness? What would happiness taste like when poured over coffee 

Byline

I outlined a story, could not recall the disposition of my mind when I did it, it didn't change the world, but it steered my heart

A not so sweet disposition

She was in a cafe waiting for friends. It was Monday. It was quite another milestone for her because rarely does she come on time to any meet ups or finding herself waiting. The situation actually felt good for her. It was refreshing like the first break of dawn with a clean wisp of air. It is not something to be proud about, but it is normal for her to be late. It is not arrogance. It is who she is. She has her reasons. One of these must be the adjective called fear of not knowing where to go, of always hesitating on what foot to step first. Beimg on time brings so much pain in her. It must be related to the environment of growing up. There must be a psychological explanation somewhere to the feeling of being lost in the midst of "i'm almost there, stay at this place for a while" or "text me where you are, i'll be there" given to her. It is terrifying. This attitude reflects exactly how she live her life; alive, breathing, but aimless with a scent of bad organ.

She often wonders how other people view her disposition... Is she trying too hard not to appear like a newbie to this "waiting" scenario?  

She must be. 

The world seemed indifferent and doesn't even steer. For her. What a pity. 

A Short Narrative on Somebody Else's Joy.

On my way home from work, I chanced upon a boy with glasses in the bus. He appeared to be a student fresh out from a college culture, for his age, he was wearing a very drawn and exhausted face. I took no notice after that initial “commute people do to whomever they seat beside with” once over. After a while he took out his phone and read a text message that came, while I was busy minding my own misery. What caught me was his reaction to the text, he seemed to yelp a silent hooray the way he was beaming. I glanced on his phone, it has a huge text resolution on it so I was able to glimpse portions of the text he was so ecstatic about. It was a congratulatory message of being hired. I was in a black mood before this scenario but seeing him so happy was enough to make my heart glow, this small success of his made me hopeful, I managed a secret smile as he can’t seemed to contain it himself, he kept looking back to the text, smiling, glorifying, lightning up on the success he just received. He closed his eyes and I think he was collecting all the positive energy in him to thank all the gods who gave him the success. I forget my own misery for a while. It was like seeing fireworks in the sky, the joy, no matter how fleeting or long, made me appreciate my own blessing as well. - randomly written on August 11, 2015.

Koby

I can’t concentrate on work today. I feel agitated. Koby, the dog of my father in Carmona, is sick. Me and Koby had never been close, hell, I could count in my fingers our few encounter. Koby is a Labrador. He has been my Father’s and my brother’s pet since I was in college. His loud barking always give me a scare whenever I visit Father in Carmona. He terrified me. Over the years however, me and him seemed to go along very well, a bond which I couldn’t understand. I am not fond of dogs, or any animals for that matter. I am a stranger to any feelings of attachment other beings felt for animals such as dogs and cat. But I unconsciously grew fond of Koby. Maybe my Father’s, “Koby would not do anything harm to you, don’t worry” soothed my nerves. We meet only a few times, but whenever I’m in Carmona I would always throw foods on his way so he would not bark at me anymore. I would open the door / the gate where my Father locked him so he could lay off somewhere else, at his own choice. There was one experience with Koby that I could not forget. It was Sunday. We always met on Sunday. Mother and Father woke up early to buy groceries in the nearby market. They briefly woke me up to tell me that I would be alone, but to not worry because Koby is with me, he was lying next to the bed. I said okay. I returned to sleep. After a while, I woke up to a sound of scratching. It was Koby. I just lay there, then fall asleep once again. I woke up, made an effort to look about me and saw Koby lying at the side of the bed, sleeping. It was pure comfort. He never moved away from my side the entire time. It made my heart ache right now thinking about it. What more with my Father who shared thousand memories with Koby, it must be so hard. I do not know what is going on, we know he is sick, maybe because he is getting old, perhaps it was negligence on our part as pet owners. This was not the first time he got sick. When he was a year old or so my brother took him to the vet 50/50, he survived. This time it is a lump in his chest, my Father told us. This time it just Father and him. My brother got married. Financial support at this time is scarce. I am left frustrated. I did what I know I could. I tried to do further research for some home remedies cure. I promised my Father to get him to the vet when money arrives this week, hopefully it arrives this week, we don’t deserve you, Koby, but we are praying that you endure and give us more days until hope arrives. Don’t leave my Father just yet. 

Prayer of the Puer by Sheila Heti

Chapter 7 

Page 58 

I am writing a play. I am writing a play that is going to save the world. If it only saves three people, I will not be happy. If with this play the oil crisis is merely averted and our standard of living maintains itself at its current level, I will weep into my oatmeal. If this play does anything short of announcing the arrival of the next cock - I mean, messiah - I will shit into my oatmeal. 

Who among us will be asked to lead the people out of bondage, only to say, God, I have never been a good talker. Ask someone else. Ask my brother instead of me. There is no way to accomplish what I feel I must accomplish with this play. There is no way in heaven or on earth! I am the wrong person to do it. Look at the shitty red hoodie I am sitting here in. Look at my dirty running shoes. I have such small breasts. God, shouldn't you call upon a woman with greatbig knockers, who the people will listen to? Why do you call on me, who doesn't have the cleavage to capture the world's attention? Ask my sister instead of me, whose big breasts are much more suited to doing your work. 

May the Lord have mercy on me for I am a fucking idiot. But I live in a culture of fucking idiots. I cannot be saved if not everyone is saved. If everyone around me talks nothing but shit, how can I hold myself aloof? My fate is not separate from everyone else's fate. If one man or one woman can stand up and call themselfs saved, that means we all are. And I know I'm not, so no one is. 

All were offers.

I got a call from someone today, it was an offer to write a script for a specific project. I said okay, anytime. Few months back, I got a call from another someone, it was an offer to write PR for Grace Poe. I said okay, anytime. Few more months before, or was it last year, a text came from a friend telling me that a friend of hers is looking for someone who could write a novel for the game application they are establishing. Again, I said okay. Two weeks ago, a friend, a colleague, and a boss asked for a favor all at once, "vane favor, patulong ako sa paggawa ng letter. I love you vane" says one, "will you be able to write an angle to this story, give me a deadline on when can you do it" says two, "vane, can i asked for a favor? Can you compose my answer to these interview questions? Deadline is today." All offers included a praise of how good of a writer my soul is and other blah blah blahs of the world they could think of. All were offers. Whatever art came from it, I have no idea.

They say a writer never forgets the first time he accepted a few coins or a word of praise in exchange for a story, oh that sweet poison of vanity in the blood, have I succeeded in not letting anyone discover my lack of talent?

like love haha wow sad angry

I'm back! Kaway kaway sa mga fans na nag-aabang ng panibagong shit post (wow haha!) Isang buwan rin! Ang tagal ko ring binalak magsulat ulit rito noong isang linggo habang nagwawalis, noong nakaraang araw habang naghuhugas ng pinggan, noong kamakalawa habang nakatingin sa profile picture ng crush ko na sweet na sweet sa girlfriend nya, noong isang gabi habang nagpipigil ng inis, ng kaba, ng ihi, ng tae habang nasa bus sa kahabaan ng napaka-trapik na alabang-zapote road pauwi galing sa nakakataeng eight to five na trabaho, at ngayon habang nagpipigil ng kaantukan kasi kapag pinalipas ko pa ito mawawalan na naman ako ng ganang magsulat, pero mas okay na rin siguro yun kesa naman di makatae, di ba? Mas mahirap tumae ng tubol. Horror. 

Ang dami ko ring inipon na energy bago nito, ang dami dami kong gustong ikwento, samu't-sari, like love haha wow sad angry ika nga ni Facebook, so many feels, like yung i-kwento sayo in perfect details yung four weeks old na experience ko sa kasal ng pinsan ko sa Leyte, kung gaano kalungkot (and very philosophical at the same time encountering the clouds of Hayao Miyazaki up there.) bumyahe mag-isa ng walang pera kasi ang mahal mahal ng ticket ng cebu pacific tapos may kapal ng mukha pa rin silang mag-announce ng delayed flight at i-reduced into dusts kaming mga client nila na pumila para makakuha ng libreng rasyon na instant noodles na chicken flavored, gusto ko rin sana i-share step by step like some bad ass expert yung DIY experiment na ginawa ko sa hair ko, pati sana yung kain namin ni Eduard sa Mary Grace, kung paano kami nangati during and after kasi sosyalin pala yung napasukan namin (pero in fairness ang sarap ng lemon water nila ah, or was it lemon? LOL), pati rin sana kung paano ako nakatapos ng libro ni Charles Dickens titled Great Expectations sa loob ng ilang buwan, kung paano ako na-nosebleed habang binabasa ito sa byahe papasok at pauwi galing ng trabaho, kung gaano ako ka-pretentious kasi half of the words written there eh hindi ko naman talaga maintindihan pero nakakaiyak, it made me whole, it me want to find my own Great Expectations (wow), kung gaano kasarap ang large coke ng Mcdo after an 1 hour and 30 minutes of giggling giggling pacute pacute lang jog with Dhei sa Grandstand ng Philippine Army, kung gaano ako ka-desperate na makatakas na sa lunggang ito na hindi ko na inisip kung ano ang magiging consequence or consequences basta alam ko natext ko nalang ang dating producer ko kung pwede pa, kung may chance pa bang makabalik ako sa mundo na nagpaparamdam sakin ng maraming feels, emotionally, spiritually, physically, intellectually, pag-ibig feels, sana ako nalang, sana ako nalang ulit ang drama ko, kung gaano ako ka-apolitical, ka-undecided, at ka-dead fish who just swim to the current sa kung sino ba talaga ang iboboto ko, kung gaano pala ka-big deal sa ibang tao ang magpa-grey hair, kung gaano ako ka-ignorant sa laman ng Bible that I just nod my head with an almost indifferent countenance of, "uhuh? Is that so?", kung gaano ka-bitin yung Zambales trip namin last weekend, kung gaano ka-indifferent yung dagat sa mga feelings na isinisiwalat namin sa kanya habang nakalusong kami, ang dami, ang dami kong gusto ikwento... pero ni isa doon, wala parin ang kwento ng pagkakaroon ko ng boyfriend. Saklap no? Iyon lang naman talaga ang gusto kong maging totoo sa buhay ko ngayon (not serious here lol) 

Mga isang buwan na paghihintay pa ulit, no? Siguro, malay natin. 

Tangina. 

Disconnect.

There's too much disappointments in my life right now, I dare myself to disconnect for a while. And I am not even talking about love shit here. Love, why, it's just a spec of matter drifting to a much bigger matter that matter. So, 'til I get that peace of mind, see you then? :) I hope, to whoever you are reading this, I hope, I really really hope you're finding a fine balance in your world. Keep moving, Continue breathing. X

Screaming Yellow

Another week lies upon my feet, in a few hours it will be Monday again, I will hate my life once again. So before I restore the "hate" that boils out every time Monday appears on my very sight, not to say being able to look at someone you call professionally "higher" than you are, who you personally think is very, uh, how do say ugly very respectfully? I hate it seeing ugly. My thoughts are ugly, my soul is hateful, what good comes if I see ugly, at least have the decency to have your appearance as higher as your professionally higher status, man it's so hard to rant things out so beautifully, I want to spat ugly words, but yeah it's one of the

many things why I hate Mondays nowadays. And to even talk about Monday like a very important tight ass son of a bitch is, gah, I hate it. So before few hours of it arrives, let me subject myself to a topic of happiness, gratefulness and other adjectives of positivism. Shall we? :) (Disclaimer: Well, not really. Haha don't take my word for it. It's one of my dreams of becoming a very unreliable writer someday lol)

Two weeks ago, exactly at this hour, or much later, I pulled myself out from bed, opened my laptop and seek out job posts online. I saw one to my resume's liking. It was from an unknown AM (AM is an understatement, I bet nobody's even watching it except themselves lol semi kidding) tv program from an unknown channel. (Disclaimer: this didn't turned out to a "Yehey! Finally! I get to have another fucking job" shit. This is the fun side story of it. Just to redeem the experience of it. Or at least let me try, or else I'll just end up crying screaming horseshit " I'm not worth any goddamn thing" thing up in the air where He is smoking, probably laughing, whispering, "you can do it, Child") so anyways, so see, I sent an email, received a text message of an interview invitation the following day after that, said yes, lied to the government I am currently serving (contract of service) to hopefully serve another government (well, sort of), besides the 3 hours travel with my ass sitting on fire because, what do you know, EDSA, it was a surprise I didn't make it to outer space, it went pretty well, I say, but I can't bring myself to put a period to this story, so shall I go on to the I "received another text message for an interview invitation" few days after that, this time in Paranaque area where their HR office is located, it's a pretty complicated collaborated business, you see, the job is in QC, the HR is in Sucat, so anyways, man I was running out things to sort an excuse to skip work, I was already double doubting if it was even reasonable fighting for this goddamn thing, the follow up interview came up, what I supposed as a very short follow up one turned into a goddamn almost whole day, the exam was rotten. I could imagine myself crumpling it, or hoping of crumpling it after I get that news thru email that I didn't get the job, uttering "what a waste" the whole time to the HR's faces. You made me climb the very unsafe Coastal overpass to get to that fucking interview, you made me, and the other applicants wait almost the whole day, nerve to the bone, gasping for that hot air of "what might be", anticipating for that few minutes of pleasantries called "interview" shit. And what a fool we are, we've actually waited. It was actually my first time going to the airport not because I'm about to meet a family, relative, friend or go travel myself, but to spend an entire one and half hour lunchtime, eating a Burger Steak take out from Jollibee while balancing it on my lap, all the while staring at some "under construction" sign. Define a day, eh? It wasn't even Monday. During this entire process, I was with someone, an applicant for another position but to the same company. Her name was Ann. She was a fresh graduate. You wouldn't see it in her face. Or in her eyes for that matter. She was pleasant, she was adorable, I couldn't being so sarcastic and calm when I was her age (wow parang ang tanda ko na, feeling wisdom-y all of a sudden lol), she was one of the two things who made that experience upside right. The other one thing was Bennett, he was the person in charged with the HR, yes, the one that made us wait for almost a day. We seemed to be just of same age. So I had on my appearance a 20% stance of "I slightly disrespect you, you who made us wait and waste our time." What's the good thing about it? He was of the same University as I. The moment I said, "I am a graduate of Adamson blah blah", he started as if it was his first time reading my resume. My, if St Vincent wouldn't be so proud. Two human beings got cultured in a university dedicated after Him, now acting their part in the big big very wild corporate world. "Here's my chance at getting this" was my thought few seconds after that, when one experience immunity, you tend to overshare your weaknesses and less on the strength, and I did that, hell if I wasn't rumbling things as if I knew him my entire life. So when one week after that hell and heaven of a day I found out that I didn't get it, I pounced. It's only now that I get the chance to see it clearly (come to think of it, it's only now that I thought maybe it was a trick from him to get to me, to ruin my life lol), I mean, the ever "everything happens for a reason" shit right after I've get my head turned blonde, so blonde, no other Bennett of any HR company I would apply to the next time could get to my head . Ever. Mind you, I even managed to  post something like, "When bubble dreams burst outta your head, you don't blame the person or the circumstance who burst it, it's you, the dreamer, THE LOSER and nothing else, what better way to stop bursting, bleach it, bleach it til it can't burst no more" shit on social media with a picture of me all yellow. I was silly. But I'll reach that California Dreamin', and be bleach even more, and you, all HR of the world, all the Bennett of the world, all the Patricia Evangelista of the world (I had a very memorable - read that as horrible - experience of being interviewed by her) who get in the way of me reaching that dream, wait for that "I'll see you in my Office at 3am in the morning or else!" burst out of my mouth! Lol come the day. With that, I'd see peace with fingers pointing on you, and goodnight :) here's how yellow I was and still am from the experience hahaha 

The Wireless Fidelity Zone.

The - 

"Wala na kong girlfriend.”

“Ano?”

“Wala ‘kong girlfriend.”

“Wala kang girlfriend o wala ka nang girlfriend. May difference yun.”

“Does it matter?”

“Oo naman. Kung kaka-break mo pa lang, malamang ako gagawin mong rebound. Lalambingin mo ‘ko, sasabihan ng “ang ganda-ganda mo”, ng “you make me so happy”, “I really, really like you”, tanginang I really like you yan, tapos maniniwala ako tapos magugustuhan din kita tapos aasa ako na mamahalin mo ‘ko tapos pag mahal na mahal na kita, mawawala ka na lang, papaasahin mo ‘ko, aalis ka na lang na parang walang nangyari, na parang wala kang pusong pinaasa, leche ka, hayup ka, hayup kayong lahat.”

Mapapatigil si girl, nakatingin lang sa kanya si boy.

“Okay ka na? Masaya ka na? Magaan na ang loob mo? Nailabas mo na lahat?”

Titignan siya nang masama ni girl.

“Wala akong girlfriend.” -

Zoned. 

Written by Direk Antoinette Jadaone titled "Excerpt XX. INT. INUMAN PLACE, SINGAPORE. NIGHT." on her blog ilayailaya.wordpress.com 

The Sweet Poison of Vanity

Nagugulat ako sa nakukuhang traffic ng blog ko lately, kada araw may views, kada araw nadagdagan yung views ng mga posts ko na personally eh hindi ko naman pinagisipan talaga ng masinsinan, kung ano lang ang feel at pumasok sa isip ko, go post. Nakakakilig po, Higher Being. Ang babaw pero sabi ko nga mahilig ako sa underrated fun at pinapa-overrate ko sya, kasi sino pa bang gagawa nung appreciation sa mga kalokohan ko, kundi ako lang din. Duuhhh? Feel na feel ko na ang kasikatan ko sa blogspot kaya naman isang gabi, kahapon lang actually, pinagpuyatan kong pag-aralan ang google analytics hahaha!! Hindi ko kinakaya ang pagfi-feeling ko pero syempre di ba bilang isang papansin na writer, gusto ko rin malaman ng bongga kung sino na yung mga napapadpad sa blog ko, baka yung crush ko na pala na - may girlfriend na mahal na mahal sya at mukhang wala na talaga yatang balak bitawan at pakawalan sya para maangkin ng isang hayok na hayok, laway na laway na nilalang na gaya ko - ang nakakabasa ng blog ko di ba, syempre napakasarap sa feeling nun bilang isang nagmamahal sa isang taong may girlfriend na mahal na mahal sya at mukhang wala na talaga yatang balak bitawan at pakawalan sya para maangking ng isang hayok na hayok, laway na laway na nilalang na gaya ko hahaha paulit ulit. Pero going back, wala sa google analytics ang gusto kong mahanap. Yung feelings ng reader ang gusto kong malaman, kung anung tingin nila sa blog post ko. FEELING. Yan ang ang gusto kong malaman. Para naman may balance dito, di ba? Hindi yung puro ako nalang lagi ang nagpaparamdam. Iparamdam mo rin! Ganung drama. Haha! Puro statistics ang drama ni google analytics, though. Walang pangalan, walang notification whatsoever kung sino sino na ang nagshishare. Nakaka-frustrate isipin kung saan saan na napapadpad sa social world itong mga pinopost ko. Kaya naman kanina nung nagbukas ako ng email ko, tuwang tuwa ako kasi sabi may 2 comments raw na nagiwan sa latest post. Hanggang ngayon hindi ko pa sila nirereplyan kasi kilig na kilig pa ko hahaha feel na feel lang, I mean shet helena, peter o kung sinon ka man, ANO TO?! Hindi ko pinangarap ang dalawang comment na 'to sa blog ko! What do I do? Nakaka-panic! Paano ko i-hahandle ang ganitong kasikatan na 'to!! HAHAHAHA. Medyo nasagot yata ni David Martin, ang protagonist ni Carlos Ruiz Zafon sa librong "The Angel's Game" nung sinabi nya sa pambungad na chapter, "A writer never forgets the first time he accepted a few coins or a word of praise in exchange for a story. He will never forget the SWEET POISON OF VANITY in his blood, and the belief that, if he succeeds in not letting anyone discover his lack of talent, the dream of literature will provide him with a roof over his head, a hot meal at the end of the day, and what he covets the most: his name printed on a miserable piece of paper that surely will outlive him." Yung caps lock lang actually yung may sense sakin. At yan na yan yung nararamdaman ko nung makita ko ang mga views at ang dalawang comment. HAHAHA!! Aaaaahhh the sweet poison of vanity, thank you so much! 

The plagiarized "How to Quit Your Job like Sherwood Anderson"

May 14, 2014

___________________

Pinoy MD

News and Public Affairs

GMA Network Inc.

Dear, Ma'am:

Greetings! 

You have a child woman in your employ that I have thought for a long time should be fired. I refer to Vanessa Rosales. She is a person with a good deal of ability, but for a long time I have been convinced that her heart is not in her work. 

There is no question but that this woman Rosales has in some ways been an ornament to our organization. Her hair, for one thing, being long and messy gives an artistic carelessness to her personal appearance that somewhat impresses old colleagues such as Vernalie Loyola, Ariane Lingat and Elai Bensal, even Dingdong Dantes stares for a few seconds when they passed upon each other at the stairs. 

But this Rosales is not really productive. As I have said, her heart is not in her work. I think she should be fired and if you will not do the job, I should like permission to fire her myself. I therefore suggest that Rosales be asked to sever her connections with the company on the fourth week of June 2014. She is a nice person. We will let her down easy but let us can her.

Respectfully submitted,

Vanessa Rosales

(unsigned)

Disclaimer: Knowing perhaps that the letter content was pulled out from somebody's great work, my producer refused to accept it and demand for a standard one, but she kept it just the same haha the Dingdong Dantes incident really did happened, naging kami po for a few seconds. Pangako. Lol. Ang sarap, beh, I mean ang sarap balik balikan sa utak ng mga pangyayari. Nakakamiss ang buhay showbizness (wow), yung side ng showbiz kung saan frustrate na frustrate ka na sa kakahanap ng case study na may malalang karamdaman pero dapat mukhang class A pagharap sa tv, maghanap ng location na within QC lang, ng recipes, ng resource person na magaling mag-upsot, ng chef na hindi mataba, yung hindi ma-oily, at kung anu-ano pang klase ng kababuyan, wala na tayong magagawa, wala na tayong magagawa, napapaligiran na tayong lahat ng, teka, naging kanta na ng radio active sago project ang daloy ng kwento. Pero yun lang naman, nakakamiss. Sana ma-"the time came to free himself from the shackles of the corporate world and plunge wholeheartedly into his craft" zoned na ko one of these days, gaya ni Sherwood Anderson. Mahaba-haba pa, may time pa, kaya pang mangarap hanggang sa ma-beat ko yung pagfo-float at pagta-travel nya, taking all the shit of the world around with him hanggang makarating sa landing ng kanyang pangarap at 41 years old. Hanep di ba?

Art. Pa-art. Arte.

Who the died this week??? Tanung nya, tanung mo. "Yung feelings ko sayo." sambit ko sa mahinang boses. Pak! Pero kidding aside, two great writers died this week. I didn't go to work for two days because I got chills at 12 midnight after watching a movie titled Ang Diary ng Panget. I didn't die, apparently. Nasobrahan lang siguro sa JaDine kilig kaya kinabukasan inubo. So anung point nang comparison? Wala lang. Gusto ko lang i-mention. Para aware ka lang na two great beings died this week, para malaman mo lang na updated ako, para malaman mong wala pa rin akong silbi sa mundong 'to so hindi pa ko pwedeng pumanaw, para malaman mo lang na nakaka-frustrate kasi ngayon ko lang nalaman na may writer na Umberto Eco sa Literary World, para malaman mo lang na hinihiling ko na sana hindi lang ako yung taong hindi sya kilala. Para malaman mo lang na tanginang reaction ng katawan ko sa pagmomove on sayo. Nilagnat ako?! Para malaman mo lang na hindi ko alam kung reaction ba 'to na nagsasabing "'wag kang mag-move kasi mahal ka rin naman nya eh", o positive reaction lang ito ng katawan ko na "yes sa wakas you're getting there! keep it up". Hindi ko alam. Ang hirap mong basahin. Buti pa sila Umberto Eco at Harper Lee, considerate. At least sila binigyan nila ako, kaming nagmamahal sa kanila ng chance basahin sila, makilala sila in a form of books, essays, poems etc. Buti pa sila, naiintindihan nila yung need ng "something to hold on to". Hindi gaya mo na umaalis nalang ng basta basta ng wala man lang paiwan na kahit ano kundi sakit sa damdamin. Tang ina mo, wala kang alam sa art! Uh, teka, wait lang, panibagong post na nga pala ito. At hindi nga pala ako nagmumura. Kaya nga yata ako nagkasakit dahil sa dami nang mura naibulalas ko sa last post ko dito. Anyways, Art naman ang pagusapan natin this time. Art. Wow. Why? Art could be a form of love, di ba? This particular shit, with me writing while listening to Sugarfree's Kwarto could be a form of love. Shit, nakakaiyak yung Kwarto ng Sugarfree for some reason. Because love is not absolute. It doesn't bind on one. Alone. Wow shit what are you rumbling about, Vanessa? Ang dami mong sinasabi. Porke pumunta ka ng #ArtFairPhilippines2016 kahapon, may karapatan ka nang mag-figure of speech ng pangtungkol sa Art? Well, everybody deserves to breath art. Sa case ng Art Fair, 250 pesos. Sa case noon, libre lang. May pagkain pa. Pero iba na sa siguro ngayon...

Flashback flashback shing shing... 

Lumaki ako sa pamilyang mahilig sa art. Tunog yamanin no? Haha pero hindi. Hindi man nakapagtapos ng college ang mga magulang ko, yung Papa namin magaling sa aspeto ng kahit ano. Sya yung adviser namin sa mga decision makings, at least noon hehe. Isa na roon ang Art. Bachelor of Arts Major in Advertising ang kuya kong panganay, yung isa ko namang kuya Science Engineer ang kinuha pero may mata rin sa Art. Actually, sya talaga yung mas nag-excel (or kinaya yung demand na hinihingi para makagawa ng isang art) sa pagpipinta. High school ako nung nahilig sila sa pagpipinta sa pamamagitan ng pagsali sa mga art competition ng Petron, GSIS, Shell at iba pa. Bukod sa mga awayan, isa sa mga memorable experiences ng kabataan ko ang bonding naming magkakapatid. Nariyan ang isama nila ako sa mga exhibit. Cubao Expo, Megamall, Manila, CCP etc. Nilagay ko nalang na "etc" kasi hindi ko na maalala yung iba, or kung may iba pa nga ba akong napuntahan kasi never ko syang na-appreciate haha kasi naman yung utak ko nasa crush crush at pagaaral "kung paano gagawin ang isang assignment na hindi humihingi ng tulong sa mga kapatid" lang ng mga panahong yun. Never ako tumingin sa isang painting ng lagpas 45 seconds. Naalala ko yung nagkaroon ng exhibit yung isa kong kuya, college na ako ng mga panahong 'yon, manila area yung exhibit, malapit lang sa adamson so sinama ko yung mga classmates friends ko, hindi pa nagsisimula yung launch, nilantakan na agad namin yung pagkain. Isang incident with art pa was - kasama pa rin ang mga kaklase, naisipan naming pumasyal ng National Museum, nangangalahati na kami ng college nun so medyo cultured na pero mga balahura pa rin, napagtripan naming ire-enact yung painting ni Juan Luna na "Spolarium", with all our might. Mga balahura haha ganoon ako ka-walang hiya sa art. Nasa romance na pauso ng mills and boon at harlequin presents pa ang utak ko noon. Hanggang ngayon naman. Pero, isa sa mga masasayang experience yun kasi ngayon bawal na ang re-enactment or any sort sa loob ng national museum. Masasabi naming isa kami sa mga masuswerteng kabataan na nakaranas nang ganoong kalayaan kasama ang art. Hindi pa kasi masyadong uso ang social media noon, or at least yung mga likes. Ang sarap nga i-throwback ng i-throwback ng i-throw... "Hep! Okay, Iha. Kayo na, mga bwiset kayo. Now, can you move on with your shit?" That's Juan Luna right there. Lol. 

Bukod sa mga art projects from high school to college, one significant encounter ko sa art  ay ang pagsali ko sa isang painting competition nung gayakin ako ng isa kong kuya. Third year or fourth year college na siguro ako noon nang hamakin ko ang isang bagay na "doing it for passion" para sa karamihan pero wala lang sakin. If I'd really really really think about, masasabi kong isa sa mga biggest regrets of my life na hindi ko sya sineryoso ng bongga. Pero I remember I had the grandest idea back then, of what my painting would looked like, and of how I would do it. I was able to imagine it so clearly sa utak ko. But then I lacked the stroke and the will of an artist. Kahit alam ko, alam ng kapatid ko, na walang ka-chance chance mapansin yung gawa ko, pinasa pa rin namin. Actually, nakaka-proud ring magbitbit sa kamaynilaan ng isang canvass na may painting na kahit ako o si picasso hindi maintindihan kung ano haha

Art that requires drawings, paintings, and designs were never on my lists of shit. Kaya naman naghihimutok ang puso ko kapag pinapagawa ako ng mga design keme sa trabaho. Just no. Hindi po yan part ng job description ko. Feeling writer po ako. Hindi designer, hindi artist. Ibang klaseng art po yung nakukuha ko sa pagsusulat, thank you, ayoko nang hamakin pa ang pagpipinta. Tubol na shit po yan. Haha ayoko nang tumatae ako ng tubol. 

Pero na-"cultured" na ko, ika nga nila, ng samut saring experience ko (wow), ng ibang tao, ng environment, ng certain situations, ng social media, and I gradually learned to appreciate anything that breaths art made by others :) kahit pa halagang 150 yan with no food and with lots of konyo kids gaya ng art fair na nakaka-culture sa dami ng tao, go lang. 

Hindi po ito review pero feeling ko ibng iba na rin ang klase ng mga art ngayon compare sa mga nakikita ko sa mga exhibits na na-experience ko dati. Mas pasok sa panlasa ng millennials ang mga klase ng gawa ngayon. Feeling ko lang naman, yung iba kasi medyo gets ko na ang konsepto, dati kasi hindi talaga haha o baka marunong na talaga akong tumingin ng isang pinta. See for yourself below :)