From Dibuho (Saturday, October 20, 2012): Tula sa Ayala, First Time, at Mens

Pasulyap-sulyap ako sa langit,

sa ulap,

at iniisip ang iyong ngiti

tuwing binabaybay 

ang mga kalsadang

balot ng gabi.

At nais kong abutin ang ulap,

ang langit.

Nais kong hagkan 

ng aking mga labi.

Ngunit 'Di Ako Marunong Lumipad 

(AKA I Wanna Bash My Head Against the Wall

AKA Tula sa Ayala)

ni Janina Santos

Marunong daw ako magsulat ng sanaysay. Sa trabaho ko, kasama ang pagtuturo at pagda-dissect at pagsusulat ng essay. Introduction. Body. Conclusion. Topic Sentence. Thesis Statement. Kung anu-anung topic. Andyan na ang globalization, genetically-modified food, at kung anu-ano pang pinapasulat sa walang kamuang-muang na nangangarap mag-abroad. Forte ko nga raw. 

Pero matagal bago ko napagdesisyonan na subukan ang narrative essay. Eto na siguro yun. Sinusulat ko to dahil sa tatlong dahilan. Una: nahiya naman ako, nagsimula ako ng blog pero wala pang laman. Pangalawa: eksperimento, gusto kong tingnan kung may kwenta ba ako magsulat. Pangatlo: hinamon kame ng Bebang Wico Siy na subukan ang sanaysay nung WIT 2012. Ang tema: Your First Time.

Hebigat.  Hindi ko alam kung anung isusulat ko. Yung unang beses ko malaman na mahal ko pa ang mag-sulat. Yung unang beses kong basahin ang Literotika. Yung unang beses ko ma-realize na magpapaka-Gabriela Silang pala ako para ipagtanggol ang sino mang biktima ng rape at sexual harassment. 

Pinili ako sa unang legit na rally ko. Unang legit kase yung unang rally ko talaga e sa Ayala Alabang. Pinoprotesta namen yung condom ban nila. Naka-yellow na t-shirt ako, hawak hawak ang bandera ng RH Bill. Pero Ayala Alabang yun, demure kumbaga ang protesta. 

Yung initial info ko, care of another Pinoy writer, si Karl de Mesa, na pareho ko atang high blood ng mga panahong 'yun. 'Di ko lang alam kung kinailangan niyang mag-Catapress para bumaba ang BP. Sana hindi naman. Dahil OC ako sa oras, ni-research ko pa ulit at nalaman na dapat 8:30AM ay andun na. 

Mag-isa lang ako dahil may iba ng pupuntahan ang mga pwede kong kasama sa ganitong pag-kakataon pero dahil madaldal ako at makulit, nakipag-usap ako sa iilan-ilang mga lalaki bago yung rally. May bombero na raw. Bubugahan daw kame ng tubig pag nagkagulo. May pulis narin. Nag-aantay na mag-amok ang taong bayan sa labas ng korte. Pag nagkanda-leche-leche daw, takbo agad sa mall. Makihalo sa tayo.

Shit. Wala man lang akong dalang condom para ibalot ang cellphone ko.

Ilang pangyayari nung Black Tuesday sa Korte Suprema

Halos lahat kame nasa harapan ng supreme court nakaitim, sumisigaw nang magkakasama ng mga tao: No to Cybercrime Law! Exciting. May bombero at pulis talaga, may media coverage. Andun si Marlene Aguilar, naka-black na see-through na damit, pina-Fuck You ang mga binansagang tangang tao sa gobyerno. Andun ang iba't-ibang miyembro ng iba't-ibang sektor na gustong ibasura yung pinasang batas. Mainit. Hindi pala dapat nagme-make-up sa rally. Sa Alabang lang yun pwede. 

Matapang daw ako sabi ng mga kaibigan kong hindi 'sing sira-ulo ko, pero ang totoo, natakot akong itakwil ng mga magulang at kapatid ko pag nalaman nilang nagpapaka-aktibista ako. Baka daw mahuli ako. Baka mapagtripan. Baka masira ang kinabukasan kase may binabanggang matataas na tao. Kaya dahil magha-Halloween naman, gumawa narin ako ng maskara na maisusuot sa araw na yun. Anonymous supporter sa crowd ang drama, kumbaga.

Pero parang katangahan pala kung may ipag-lalaban ka, pero hindi mo naman kayang panindigan. Nung bandang tanghali, nakasukbit nalang yung maskara sa bag ko. Save it for the Halloween parties, if ever there is one.

Hindi rin talaga pwede magpaka-anon. Inatasan kase ako ng organisasyon ko na magbigay ng mensahe sa rally bilang kinatawan namin. So hindi pwedeng mag-mask. Kase hindi nalang ako ang nirerepresenta ko, kundi ang paniniwala at paninindigan ng grupo ko. Masarap pala magsalita at maki-isa sa mga taong pare-pareho ang pinaglalaban. 

Laking tuwa ko nung ibaba ng Supreme Court ang TRO. Pakiramdam ko, persona kong nakumbinsi ang Supreme Court na bigyan kame ng 120 na kalayaan. Keber sa make-up na tunaw. Keber sa kung magalit at itakwil ako ng pamilya ko.

Sa pagkakataong iyon, mas may kwenta ang buhay ko dahil may nagawa ako na hindi lang para sa sarili ko. Ang sarap ng pakiramdam.

Parang orgasm lang.

Sana ayos na kay Ate Bebang na nakasama dito yung assignment kong sanaysay ko tungkol sa first time. Pero kung gusto niya ng mas mahabang home-work, pwede rin naman. Promise, hindi after ten years. May isa pa kasi akong kwento: yung tungkol sa libro niya. Sa totoo lang, hindi ko pa tapos basahin. Kagabi, habang binabaybay ang Ayala sakay ng masikip na dyip, humahagikgik ako habang nagbabasa. Pinagtitinginan ako ng tao, per as usual wala akong pake. Hanggang kagabi at hanggang ngayon. Hindi ko parin tapos, pero kailangan tumigil dahil sa tawag ng kalikasan (ang magsulat)

It’s a Mens World. Noong una kong makita yung libro, akala ko nung una e hardcore na essays tungkol sa feminism. May pagka-ganun din naman, pero mas marami pa siyang sakop. Tapos nakilala ko pa si Ate Bebang at na-realize ko kung gano kabaliw na babae siya.

Kung trip mo matawa, pwedeng-pwede ang It’s a Mens World para sayo. Unang 50 na pahina palang, malamang masakit na ang tiyan mo. Light reading. Isang koleksyon ng narrative essay ng manunulat ang libro, tungkol sa iba’t-ibang aspeto ng buhay niya, tungkol sa mga kapatid niya, sa mga crush niya, sa pamilya. Sa mga pangyayaring nagsimulang madrama, natapos ng ka-pasawayan lang pala.

Kung tutuusin, mundane dapat yung laman. Pangyayari sa pang-araw-araw na buhay e. Hindi tulad ng iba kong binabasa – may sirena, may mga wasak ang utak sa droga, may post-apocalyptic world na puro aswang, manananggal, lamang-lupa, kapre at kung anu-ano pa.

Pero hindi ko mabitawan. Tawa ako ng tawa, tapos after five minutes humahagulgol naman ako. Parang timang lang.

Paminsan-minsan, yung kwento ng tunay na buhay pa talaga ang nakakabihag sayo. Bukod pa sa kung paano i-kinwento, yung tibay ng loob ng manunulat na magbahagi ng buhay niya, na ipa-imprenta yung mga napag-daan niya sa papel, na mababasa at malamang mapagtsismisan ng kung sinu-sinong tao. Sa tingin ko, yun yung bumihag sakin, at kung ba’t ang haba-haba ng kwento ko at ng It’s a Mens World.

Korni man sabihin, pero may puso yung libro. At saludo rin ako sa tapang ng manunulat.

Hindi ko pa natatapos itong librong to. Pero pagkatapos, malamang bibili ako ulit. Ipangreregalo ko, dun sa mahilig din magbasa. Kase dapat mas marami pang magbasa ng librong ‘to.

Pero para dun sa mapera, mura lang naman! PHP280 lang ‘to sa Powerbooks sa Greenbelt! Bili na!

Oo nga pala: first time ko lang din mag-basa ng libro ng sanaysay. So pwede narin bang pang first-time essay ito?#

From Dibuho ( Saturday, December 1, 2012): Excerps of Poetry, Mermaids, and the Love for Solitude

Sometimes, I think of you- 

amid the memory of the sand and the sea

and the moon in the cloudless sky.

Or when dreams are scarce

and night are sleepless.

Or when days are silent and sweet.

~ An excerpt, Poetry by the Water I

The dying day of November and the beginning of December were magical to me. After ages, I was finally able to just leave behind everything and have my much-deserved break. As much as possible, I kept very little contact with everyone. I took time to just be lazy, to think, to be quiet, to cry a little. It felt great. It felt wonderful.

Suddenly, I was in love with the feeling of being able to just get away. It was only for two days, but I don't think I'll ever be out of love for it ever again. The experience made me write two poems, excerpts of which I'm sharing along with this blog post. I don't think they're very good (makapal ang mukha ko, since I'm sharing them despite quality)- because, after all, my best poems come from me being intoxicated, suicidal, and emotionally fucked-up. What they have, though, are a kind of quiet loneliness, which, I  think, come from my unrequited passion for the solitude these two days gave me. The water, the sun, the sky, the stars at night. They were all so beautiful, but I'll never be able to have them. 

Eliza Victoria's book, A Bottle of Storm Clouds.
Art is by Naermyth author,  Karen Francisco.

It was no wonder that when my feet touched the coolness of the water, my first thought was that I wanted to be a mermaid. Water was such a powerful element, so vast and calming. I wanted nothing more than to just disappear in its arms. 

It was probably only fitting that, when I was not half asleep or thinking, or swimming, I was reading Eliza Victoria's A Bottle of Storm Clouds. This book is a collection of short stories published by Visprint. my friend Gary Mojica got this for me when he failed to gift me with Karl de Mesa's Damaged People. We got the book during Visprint's WIT 2012. I also got to meet Ms. Eliza, who was bubbly and pretty cool. She even signed the book for me. The book contained sixteen short stories in my favorite genre - speculative fiction. All of which are written in an almost poetic manner.

Before I actually met the author, I've already read one of her works in Philippine Speculative Fiction. It was a story called Monster. Honestly, I really did not pay attention to the writer's name, but what I found out was she has a thing for taking creatures of Philippine Mythology and spinning humanity into them. This is what caught made me re-read Monsterseveral times. It reminded me of another Filipino work I enjoyed - the indie film Yanggaw. In Eliza Victoria's world, even aswangs go online and surf the Internet. They work for a living. They party, drink beer, and do drugs. They fall in love. Not the typical portrayal in mainstream media that's alreadykaskas.

I remember Ms. Eliza wearing a cute dress and tights when I first saw her. I thought she was funny and girly. Her stories, however, are anything but. They remind me of twisted fairy tales. One particular story was An Abduction by Mermaids, which starts out with an apathetic guy working in a newspaper office. He gets a call from his mom who tells him that his sister has been abducted by mermaid. Guess what happens? Of course, the main character has to go on a quest, but it isn't a quest you'd be prepared for. It doesn't end with happily ever after either. It seems that none of Ms. Eliza's stories do. Actually, they don't seem to end at all. I guess I would never cease to wonder what would happen to David Cruz, whose sister was supposedly kidnapped by mermaids. Or how it was possible for all the dead of a small town to rise from the grave and live again. Or if business deals with gods and goddesses were really as brutal as Ms. Eliza portrayed. 

Truth be told, it was the second time I've read the book, but I couldn't really resist flipping through the 197-page volume again. It was so good that after the first time I read it. Ms. Eliza became one of my top 5 Filipina Writer Crush (more on that later). While I was by the water, I revisited some of my favorite stories. 

One story that struck me was Sugar Pi. It was about a high school math genius who dreamed of the last digits of pi, which is impossible, as pi is infinite. He shares his obsession about the infinite number to his best friend, who, despite not being in love with Math, begins to see the power in the number. I honestly thought that the math wiz would turn out to be an alien and that pi would predict the end of the world. The math-wiz-turned-alien and his best friend would figure out the puzzle of pi and save themselves from destruction. But Eliza Victoria fooled me again. The story ended with a prom and a confession - of how important pi is. The math-wiz's name is Vincent. After reading the story, I would have wanted to find him, maybe hug him for a bit. Just so he knows I also think pi is important. 

The characters in A Bottle of Storm Clouds are that real. You love them, fear them, admire them, pity them, cry for them. They evoke something out from you, they demand a reaction. For a brief, magical moment, the characters become so real to you that you can all but touch them. Although there are some characters you'd really not want to encounter, especially on moonless nights. 

My rants may not make sense. All I know is that I'm eternally thankful to Gary for sponsoring my book, but if he didn't I would have bought this one without a second thought. It won't even matter if I have to skip a meal or two. I'm definitely looking forward to other books by Ms. Eliza to be available in print. Next time I go on my getaway, I know exactly what reading material to take.#

If I can be here for, perhaps, a week, I think I'd be able to write a novel.^_^

My heart wrote a message

on the sand by moonlight

and by morning the sea

had taken it away.

But in monotonous repetition - 

each one a sharp and burning pain -

the sea responds into my dreamless sleep,

"It is what it is."

I wrote a message

on the sand by moonlight

for the moon and the stars to see

but all of it is futile and

so my heart has taken it back.

~An Excerpt, Poetry by the Water II

Into My Abyss: A Collection of Poetry

Author's Note: I recently found my collection of poetry and thought I would share it with you. Warning: Written when the writer was obviously not in her proper mind. I will also be writing a little background story to the story.

East Meets South, Fire Meets Air

The sheets are our waves,

The ceiling, our sky,

and the bed is our earth

lay with me, sweetness, within these forgotten

confines

where everything is nothing,

and nothing is everything.

Between sheets,

entwined bodies:

outside, it is an illusion, whilst within,

the idiots of the world

crumble spineless

against our love.

I took a self-study workshop in writing from a book called Writing the Waves sometime in 2010. It was an amazing way to force those creative juices out, and this is one of the stuff I came up with. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Simile

I lie in gutters,

my stomach rumbling,

like the beat of the drums-

like the beat of the hands

upon my empty head, and my empty head

upon the pavement-

like my head upon the pavement,

beneath the endless night,

and the endless beat-

-of the hand upon my head,

my head upon my bed,

the deadened body in my bed –

like my body on the road,

my bed that is the road,

the body sleeps upon my bed-

sleeping in the beat

of the never ending night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Late Days of July

The gaping hole

from which unmerciful Fate ripped

my heart from,

bleeds,

silently weeps -

a contrast to bitter

unshed tears

which the traitorous midnight

coaxed from my

fragile will.

And images of butterfly persist

across the purple heaven,

blotting shadow

against these lonely clouds,

above the silver sea

and the shore,

where the remnants

of our promise

remain unfulfilled wishes

upon the sand.

From this pen, a ballad,

a spell of elegy

to elegant, unyielding

passionate

discord.

My emptiness seeks

your touch of fire

and ice,

My hands grasping

deathly winds

for the sound of your voice.

My pain lies dormant,

the calm before the unforgiving storm...

And my love, it lies forgotten.

Of course, a poetry collection I come up with would not be complete without a heartbreak poem. This one was written sometime in 2007.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Stream of Consciousness

The insignificant murmur and the subtle growl

of empty stomachs puncture

the otherwise sleepy silence.

A cacophony of shameless noise

accompanies my suppressed longing

to empty my turned guts

upon the chapped wooden floor.

Licking lips and twiddling hands,

pen darting across dirty paper.

Time crawls like ants slowly burning

under a summer sun,

upon walls which scream of captured,

unrefined art.

An artist loses himself in his

brightly colored world,

perhaps inspired by Dali’s melted clocks

upon withered trees.

Music blares, enclosed by the ears,

a soft protest to the lazy seconds.

Conversations flutter like disgruntled faeries

across an imbroglio of a universe

of searing heat, and numbing cold.

Until everything cease, like the drone

of a fly swatted by bittersweet

death.

Dismissed.

Once upon a time during class, I got bored.

Wakasang Wasak: Horror, Tentacle Porn, and Badass Social Commentary

Some people would call him vain. The nicer ones would refer to his social media antics as "strongly opinionated" whereas others would just say he is "panira ng trip". One thing is for sure: Siege Malvar has got to be one of the bitchiest persons in my Facebook friends list.  I love him.

Siege Malvar is also the author of one of the books I've enjoyed most this year. A definite jump from his previous books, Wakasang Wasak is, much like Sir Siege himself, a dare to what is conventionally defined as good literature. I think literary purist would frown upon his tabloid-style literature. I think he makes it a point to piss off a lot of people just because it's fun. He certainly stepped on a lot of toes, particularly when he killed off a sparkly pedophile vampire in one of the bonus stories. I could almost here the fan girls screaming.

Wakasang Wasak is a collection of three novellas focusing on three lady protagonists who are, in their own right, strong women. One is a woman of the world, a successful, beautiful woman who can't seem to find true love outside the many good (and not-so-good) lays she's having (Kama ni Stella). Another is a probinsyana-turned- call center girl who is determined to win her town's most prestigious pageant (Mutya ng San Isidro). And of course there's the character that I really love - the demon arse-kicking, sparkly-vampire-killing witch (Where Angels Fear to Dance).To top it all off, the genre is horror. You can see why I've gone gaga about this. 

WARNING! There may be spoilers.

Kama ni Stella makes me want to read Lovecraft. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have yet to be introduced to the Mythos (yet I have the gall to call myself a horror fan - somebody give me a Lovecraft book!). Kama ni Stella tells of a story of an independent, beautiful, strong-willed woman who - surprise - has difficulty finding true love. Of course, there's the occasional romp in the haystack, but after the sex, she gets left behind. Sounds familiar? The story also touches on the delicate issue of rape. Then, of course, there are the more titillating aspects of the story, such as tentacle porn. Not familiar with it? Google and...erm... enjoy, if you're in to those stuff, 

My favorite in the collection is Mutya ng San Isidro. Don't get me wrong. I'm no pageant junkie. When Philippine reps kept landing on the op spots of international beauty contest, I thought it was cool, then immediately turned my attention to what I thought were more progressive thoughts... like the lunch menu. Mutya ng San isidro is not your typical beauty pageant story, however. Written with a biting humor and an unapologetic the penchant for cuss, this novella tells of a probinsyana who asks her fabulous baklang best friend to help her train for the most prestigious beauty contest in her home town. And so comes the bitchy/witty side comments about goody-goody pageant rival, the tormenting practice of how to walk in high heels, the occasional lusting-over-that-hot-probinsyano-boy moments, and a bit of discussion about the cult of the Flying Spaghetti monster. And of course there's the mystery of why some people in town are very much against their daughters entering the contest to be the town's next Mutya. 

Mutya ng San Isidro is a nod to Stephen King's common theme of the horrors of a small town. It also touches heavily on the issues of superstitious beliefs (which we Filipinos are quite prone to) as well as secularism and some religion's obvious interference with Philippine governance. I think it's these issues that make Mutya ng San Isidro terrifying - that superstitious beliefs can have such a hold in a person (or in a town, in this case) that it can affect the lives of people - or the lack thereof. Quite fitting, since something like this is still happening today in what is supposedly a sane, logical society.

If you're into reading about a girl kick arse both with her fists and with magic, then you'd probably enjoy Where Angels Fear to Dance. Our protaginist here is kind of klike Alexanda Trese, except with a great deal more bitchiness. Where Angels Fear to Dance has a great deal of magic and action, plus some celestial orgasm. It also pokes fun at some of pop culture's more dubious 2013 creations, such as Gangnam Style. 

For many people, Wakasang Wasak may be a joke. I think it partially is. After all, jokes are always funny and I've spent quite a lot of time laughing at the characters' interactions and how the author wove the story into life (and in all the most inappropriate places as well - like the van from Ayala to Paranaque). I have also been intensely terrified by the reflection of the real world intertwined with man-eating beds and gays lusting over hot men. The fear of empowered women, the intervention of religion on politics and legislation, the power of superstition, especially on uneducated people, and a peak at the industry which capitalizes on women's desire to complement what society thinks is beautiful. 

It is the writing style and the themes of the book which makes Wakasang Wasak something to take seriously - while having a good laugh at the same time. 

P.S.: I would have taken a photo of me reading it, but I can't find my damned book T_T

4 Really Bad "Christmas Gift" to Shove Down Filipinos' Throats

 I'm sure that, at some point in your life, you've received something you don't like. I've pretty much lived off hand-me-downs and, although not presents, I've had some not-so-good stuff passed on me. Fortunately, when we receive horrifying gifts, there are ways of dealing with it without hurting the giver's feelings (who was probably really under the impression that you would like what was given). We can always pretend that what we've received is amazing, then just (very quietly) pass the gift on to someone who'd like it better.

And then there are things that are just shoved down our throats until we choke and gag and die from our own vomit...or in this case, from the frustration of having to deal with shite that don't belong in the holidays.

Here are the 4 worst things forced upon Filipinos today.

1. Something Heavy. The Philippines has most expensive power rate in the region.  The power rate will also rise significantly this month because our power distributors need to raise money to rehabilitate typhoon-torn areas like Tacloban and Samar. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about rehabilitation. Shall I remind everyone that the Secretary for Energy has given his word that he will resign if power is not back by Christmas (I do hope he means THIS YEAR)? My problem is that the bigwigs are passing the expenses to the consumers, when in fact, I am sure that the government has more than enough money to subsidize a significant part of the energy rehab of these storm-destroyed areas. How can I say this? The 2013 PDAF has just been declared unconstitutional by the Supreme Court. That's millions of pesos of indiscriminate fund right there.

 

It's not just electricity. Just this week gas and LPG prices also soared. And of course there's the rumored 100% increase in MRT and LRT fare despite the fact that the breakdowns are so common, it has been considered as a regular, if not unfortunate and infuriating, occurrence.

Thank you, society.

2. Something Infuriatingly Silly. The truth: our legislative bodies are not known for having the best IQ. Sure, there are exceptions like Miriam Defensor Santiago, Pia Cayetano, and even Gloria Arroyo,who seem to know what they are talking about. But then we have complete jokes like Revilla and Sotto who completely muck up the image of a decent Senate. Unfortunately for the Philippines, we have too many political jokes getting elected. 

This would be the proper moment for you to reminisce about the 2013 elections and cringe.

This would also be a good time to cringe at some of the more obvious examples of idiocy (there are loads). Apart from Tito Sotto's shameless act of plagiarism, there is also the face-palm worthy bills that these representatives are filing. One that totally annoyed me was the Pacquiao Bill. Filled during boxing icon Manny Pacquiao's battle with the BIR because of his alleged questionable tax practices, the bill proposes that Pacman be exempted from paying taxes until he dies. Yup. The proponents (who are Pacquiao's allies in Congress) want to make a law that would excuse one of the most influential and the richest man in the Philippines from paying what he should pay while the rest of us dukha have to try and budget the meager sum left to us after the dogs of this so-called Daang Matuwid government have finished with our salary.

Sounds rather fair and logical. 

Honestly, I don't care if Pacman has brought "honor" and "Pinoy Pride" to our country. Lea Salongga did the same thing when she got into Broadway and won awards. So did many Filipino scientists honored internationally, whose work, although blatantly ignored by the government, have contributed to the tangible development of our sad little nation. Pacquiao should be taxed, and taxed fairly. He should pay no more and no less than he should. That's it. No special treatment.

What we forget is this: In this day and age when our taxes go to leather-bounded Porche of some kid in the US whose mother can't even survive without air conditioning, an honest person working an honest job and paying what is due to him - even if the money goes into the pockets of buwayas - is the one who gives the most pride to the Philippines.

By the way, those taxes we're paying? Those pay for the legislative process that these silly, infuriating bills go through. 

3. Something Disgusting.When I was a kid and we had Monito Monita at school, and the phrase "something disgusting" came up, the first thing I would buy for whoever I would be giving a gift too was this cool little thingy:

Now that I'm an adult, should I participate in another Monito Monita and "something disgusting" comes up, I'll give them a link to a video of the head of state blaming the mayor of a Yolanda-torn area and vice versa.


This is what's truly disgusting: so-called leaders with no accountability, who prefer to the point fingers and blame. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that leaders should not put blame where blame is due and let incompetence (especially incompetence that cost people's lives) unpunished. I'm saying that if you're the head and your people mess up, hold them accountable, try and have the decency to not blame and take into consideration that as a leader you are also accountable, then manage the problem. 

Thank you for adding more drama to our lives, but honestly, Filipinos have more than enough teleseryes to deal with.

4. Something Magical that Makes Your Forget. The one thing Filipinos don't need is a potion or a spell to make them forget about the insanity of the past years. We Filipinos don't seem to learn from history. I honestly think that Death Eaters have invaded the government and are Obliviating people to make them forget important things. Here are some stuff that happened that we shouldn't forget: 

• The Ampatuan Massacre, wherein more than 50 people were brutally murdered. Many of them were people from the media.
• The blatant, unapologetic plagiarism of Senator Tito Sotto.
• Janet Lim Napoles, the new poster child(?) for corruption, plus Tanda, Sexy, and her other cohorts.
• The Room Nurse incident involving Senator Cynthia Villar.
• Yolanda's wrath and how the Filipino Government and the Filipino people responded. 

Never forget, Philippines, or we will never learn.

Happy holidays, everyone. May the gifts that you receive be anything than sucky. 

ATTENTION: I'm Selling My Books!

I'm just going to come right out and say it: I'm selling my books. 

No, I haven't gone mad. I am still in love with reading and I still want to have my own library one day (when I can afford the space). The books I'm selling aren't stuff that I picked up, read, and found okay but forgettable. Here are some really good pieces of literature that I've enjoyed and would write reviews about if I wasn't afflicted by chronic writer's laziness.

Obviously, I'm selling them to raise money. I wish I can say that I'm going to be using the money to buy a tablet, or to update my dumb phone to a smart phone, or even to have the screen of my lappy fixed (right now, the laptop screen is dark and flickering, threatening to die on me anytime). Not really. I'm selling my books because some of my important people have/had family in places Super Typhoon Yolanda wrecked havoc to, and these people need help.

To be blunt, I have nothing else to give but my love. I wish it were enough, but you see, love isn't really in the first level of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. My love for these people will not relieve their hunger and pain. Prayers and emotions are ok, but those won't keep them alive.

So I's selling my books, because it might help a couple of survivors or so. Because even if it hurts me, those people who've gone through this disaster are hurting more, and will probably be hurting for a long time. 

Here are some of the stuff that's for sale. 

1. Naermyth by Karen Francisco (Visprint) for PHP200.00. Post-apocalypse Philippines and battles with mythological creatures. Slight damages on the cover.  

2. The Firewalkers by Erwin E. Castillo (UP Press) for PHP150.00. Magical. Yellowish tinge on cover and my name written on the first page.

3. Orosa-Nakpil Malate by Louie Mar A. Gangcuangco (English Version) for PHP200.00. HIV-AIDS awareness literature intertwined with a rather touching love story. Mint condition. RESERVED.^_^

4. Trese: Stories from the Diabolical by Budjette Tan and Kajo Baldisimo (Visprint) for PHP120.00. Stories that go bump in the night in the Trese World. New. SOLD!.^_^

5. The Lost Language by Marianne Villanueva (Anvil) for PHP200.00. Well written and moving stories by an award-winning writer. Yellowish tinge on pages and my name written on the first page. 

6. Smaller and Smaller Circles by F.H. Batacan (UP Press) for PHP 125.00. CSI in the Philippines. Brand new. SOLD!

7. Full Dark, No Stars by Stephen King (Pocket Books) for PHP 275.00. It's KING, need I say more? Minimal damage on the cover.

8. The Bluffer's Guide to Public Speaking by Chris Steward and Mike Wilkinson (Oval Books) for PHP 75.00. Damn useful book. Slightly yellowish tinge on pages. RESERVED ^_^

I'm also selling a couple of rare books that I got during one of the trainings I went to. You won't usually find these in the market.:

9. Marketisation of Governance: Critical Feminist Perspectives from the South by Viviene Taylor (Dawn Publication) for PHP300.00.

10. Weighing up Cairo: Evidence from women in the South (Dawn Publication) for PHP350.00. 

Other books I have:

1. Smoke and Mirrors by Neil Gaimam for PHP200.00.
2. Minggaw (Literotika) for PHP50.00

If you are interested in buying these books, you may get in touch with me through the following means:

1. Message me through my Facebook Page. 

2. SMS me at 09054167233.

Pick up points during Mondays through Fridays, Glorietta/SM Makati or Santanya Grove/SM Sucat in Paranaque, from 6:30PM-8:00PM. This is negotiable, of course. 

Let us all do what we can to help. Sometimes, the smallest things have the biggest impact.