August 15, 2014

On Word-Traveling and Checking Papers on the Beach

It was a Tuesday. A poetry reading at a dear poet friend’s garden got canceled. I got a Tuesday, a weekday, at my disposal.  I packed and left the city at ten in the morning to visit down south. Trips as random as this—that has been my life for the past five years. To book as many, as random flights as possible. To squeeze a trip to a neighboring island midweek. To not care about work schedule. To have the audacity of disappearing from work for more than a week in a monthly basis. To have a beach, grassland for a workplace. To always have a job waiting no matter how […]
September 23, 2014

Word Traveling: On Emotions and Eula Biss’ “No Man’s Land”

It is hard, admittedly, to finish a creative nonfiction book. Perhaps because they are driven by emotions—often dominantly singular, negatively singular: hatred, loss, anger. These emotions wittingly, consciously creep into the reader and weigh her down with heaviness and sighs, rendering her helpless and boneless to the point that taking a break from the book is necessary. That is how I feel mostly with narratives detailing collective pain: diaspora, slavery, racial discrimination, corruption, death, violence, injustice. James Baldwin’s. Jamaica Kincaid’s.  (And perhaps Joan Didion’s. No, I haven’t read the pile of Didions for the sheer reason that it is not the […]
January 4, 2015
Backpacking with a Book

Zee Lifestyle Featured Young Creatives in Cebu

    I was with the company of really young creatives in Cebu. I suddenly felt so old. Writers (mis)represented!
January 6, 2015

Welcoming 2015: The Ruckus That Is Not Home

“We love you too, yaya. Asa lagi ka karon? (Where are you now?),” replied Mama after receiving my New Year’s greeting. I just finished witnessing the city burst into orgasmic colors at the view deck somewhere Transcentral Highway. I was supposed to leave Cebu to pursue something entirely new, but Seniang delayed my plans for two days. It was good in a way. In the past eleven years of residing in the city, I never had had the chance to stroll around days before the year ends. I would be on my way home, or my idea of home: Tuburan, via the silent, […]