Parola (Lighthouse)

Ituring ang iyong sariling
Tagahawi ng ulap
Sa kalangitang kulimlim
Kampanang yayanig
Sa bawat nilalang
Magigising ang lupang
Kulang sa dilig…

~*~

Tila yata nabanlian ang mga araw ng walang-hanggan

Yumayanig pa rin sa mga pilat na sugat ng nakaraan

Galit na para bang umaarangkada ng walang humpay

Nilait na alindog, laging sinusubok ang sarling tibay

Ng dumadausdos na bagyo, uubusin pa ng kalangitan

Ang malakas na ulan, ibubuhos ang lahat kahit kulang

Para durugin ang konkreto ng kanilang nakausling mga buto

Ngunit hindi papalagpasin, nakabilanggo sa bawat minutong

Aawatin at aawitin, halina’t pakinggan ang boses na walang aruga

At ano pa kaya ang mga pagkukulang na hindi sinasadya

Ngunit ang maantak na balat kung saan ang kalumbayan nakatampok

Ay umiwas sa huni ng dapithapon, at nagdurusa pa sa munting usok.

—

It was as if the days were scalded by forevermore

Still trembling from all the scarred wounds of the past

A fury that seems to plummet on without ever ceasing

Vilified captivation, constantly testing one’s strength

By the cascading storm, now emptying the skylines

Of torrential rain, deluging all to give despite the lack

Just to shatter the concrete from their protruding bones

Yet never squandered, and incarcerated by every minute

Restraining and singing, come listen to the voices without sympathy

For what other shortcomings might have been unintentional

Though the tenderest flesh where every sorrow is exposed

Has avoided the humming of twilight, and is tormented by mere smoke.

~*~

Ikaw ang liwanag sa dilim
At sa paghamon mo
Sa agos ng ating kasaysayan
Uukit ka ng bagong daan…

Feisty Four 4️⃣

A very happy birthday and many scrumptious slices of ube rolls and chocolate cake to this cheeky little bugger!! Not to sound a tad cliché and all but honestly Gianni-ya’s growing up quite fa(s)t that just thinking about it’s sending my mind into orbit,, like oh snap it’s been four years since he was first born and stole my spacey bedroom from me and since then it’s been four years of lots of playtime and wailing and giggles and messes and disgusting bodily fluids and babysitting afternoons and most of all, those annoying knockoff nursery rhymes and songs with awful animations about baby sharks and selfish monkeys hoarding the bed and johnny johnny straight-up lying to his dad, the fucker jk hahaha anyway much love kid 🎉🎂🎈

Also, here’s a video from when Gianni and my younger sister walked in on me blasting some metal on speakers in the bedroom (if you could pardon the mess of our tiny cramped house, soz) and we randomly decided to teach him how to mosh slash scream sing, and he very nearly ended up bashing his head on the window (we are clearly really Good babysitters™, hire us pls). Anyway, he does love watching and dancing along to All Time Low, Pierce The Veil, and Sleeping With Sirens music videos (among numerous other emo bands, that is) and y’all, guess whose fault that is though ooft 👀 Not gonna lie, I don’t know whether to be ashamed or proud of myself for that lmao but at least I could victoriously revel in the fact that my older brother has a lowkey grudge on me about it because he also attempted to indoctrinate our nephew with his own music of choice (i.e. k-pop)—and failed miserably teeth on concrete lmaooo bitch u really thought??? I sang classic rock lullabies to this bairn since he was barely even months-old and goddamn well raised him on a healthy dose of punk and alternative music, your pathetic attempts to relinquish us shall prove futile!!! okay wow that was a bit of a stupid tangent and i still have some leftover mango roll to gorge on along with my rapidly-cooling black coffee so goodbye for now and happy 4th beeday again gianni ya chubby adorbaby~

rusty mailbox

you’ve got that

american blue in the very pits

of your iris,

and sometimes it feels

almost electric

but i know i’ll just end up

with a black eye if i

keep on staring

i’m not usually this brand of rude

but i can’t help it

if i’m cliché suckered

by that beach-at-early-gentle-dusk

kind of blond,

figure i could still taste

sea salt in my throat if i inhaled

hard enough

maybe you’re afloat

waiting for

a false breakwater romance

drowning siren song

with a hateful kinda endearment

and speaking of

you hate sports and my visual arts

but you like virtuous

green heroes

and staying up for 38 hours

and i like monochrome serial shows

and the number of

sweets i could still spell out

if i threw your full name

in an anagram machine and let it

run wild, here’s one:

cotton candy

maybe that’s no fun for you

don’t worry, it’s no fun

for me either

but it’s always fun to dream a bit

afternoon stargazing

spitting grey fur

overthinking about it some more

buttercup, that’s not one

but i quite like it pinned on your hair

if you won’t mind

i don’t live near a garden

but we could always find some way

or another

to quote a reference

for something

you probably don’t listen to—or do you?—

i’m never gonna see it

all in bloom

because now

it’s almost late spring

(summer ’round my axis)

and not fantasy football season

and i think i love you

all the same

so maybe i’ll just stretch

out my stiff spine

write a generic letter with no

return address

and turn the unplugged television on

just to see how it all

pans out.

7:38 AM 🔆

---

Just a quick rainy Saturday morning cover of She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5. There’s a lot of background noise from outside the streets as this once-tranquil town slowly rouses back to its usual bustling state, and I had only been awake for probably around an hour thirty then and my dumb brain was still stumbling through a rather sleepy daze—that’s why my voice isn’t in the best condition (but tbh when is it ever lmao :^/) and I look like a wretched bleary-eyed hag and there’s quite a bit of mistakes here and there, but eh, that’s alright. I’m honestly just cosying up a bit (with this soft little chonky baby i call my artemis, i love her sm ahh <3) and trying to warm myself up before the day fully goes underway to fuck me over once more. God morgon, alla~

brushwork

peace in painting

colourful nothings

tranquil world building

depths over blending

.

peace from painting

painstaking everything

images constructing

for an evoking unveiling.

In Excelsis

He proclaims to ravage your sanctity with the act of a knighted defender

Find another way to twist the tales, for he’s the tactless paladin, oh-so clever

And he’s far too proud to suck the hollow fibs right off of his glowing teeth

But when it goes around, it comes around, so just strike a match for his greed

Because he’s most obviously the higher man in such a simpleminded charade

Crashes his temples against the ground three times so you would hear his pity parade

He’s better off, he’s better now, he’s still stuck grovelling in his plagiarised sanctimony

All hail to the king and his fucking sharp things, his blood’s thicker with every abusive elegy.

terraria

autumn leaves

and nothingness

seasonal escapade

ache more for less

.

hills that whisper

junipers without whim

love without living

wounds without skin

.

mental imposter

corrupted serenity

flimsy enclosures

where art humanity

.

mountains that shake

hellebores without bloom

live without loving

oxygen unconsumed.

little spirals (06.05.20)

life’s been kinda fucked. anxiety and depressive episodes have been really bad. so many big and sudden changes happening both in and out of my personal perspective that i’m finding maybe just a bit hard to cope with. incessantly worrying over certain things and people even though it’s rather pointless to do so but i can’t help it all the same. mild vapid distractions don’t seem to be working anymore and i literally can’t do anything normal nor mindless without overpowering guilt having a big go at me, yelling that i shouldn’t be doing it at all because god damn it, life can’t go on right now—not with everything else that’s going on at the moment, you inconsiderate selfish cunt. 2020 just somehow keeps stretching into another insane bout of unwanted changes and numbing limbo and miserable infinity and at this point, it’s honestly quite reasonable to wonder if it’s still even worth it to keep hanging around. if not, then perhaps the total surrender could be justified if there’s nothing really left to look forward to out there anymore. huh. some rotten food for thought. i wanna fucking throw up. or just stay off the internet for a while. anyway, take care and three cheers for worsening mental instability 🥂

Erethism

i am tethered to my sickness—

brain worms and implacable affinity

soil and blood like strings on

careful fingers, knitting precariously

the loose ends, every alteration

another implication, pull hard enough

and i am tightly bound to peril

deeply fused into your liquid mercury

insensate though that may be

unliberated; as my mind is a metal can

rust and decay so effervescent

an empty clanking of unlinked adages

circulating alluvial expectations

throughout all of my weeping nerves

and stillness, if i were still able

pain could only wake me for so long

before attachment becomes a

blunted weapon, and your infection, my

bereaved maladaptive paradise.

#BlackLivesMatter