VINTAGE

I was going through my parent's stuff this morning, looking for things that i can use for my photography class homework - things like umbrellas, cardboards, blankets, spare light bulbs... anything at all. I ended up finding much more than what i was looking for: a Kodak Retina Reflex III and a Kodak Motormatic 35(c.1961). Yes, two vintage cameras. One belonged to my Dad, the other one was my Mom's.

I guess that's why no matter how much i tried to ignore the desire to pick up a camera and seriously shoot my life away - and i've been trying to ignore it for more than two decades now - it just wouldn't go away. I'm beginning to understand.

THE QUEEN

The red carpet of my blood unrolls
Bells in my head ring
and send my whole body
tingling shivering shaking
The drumbeat of my heart intensifies
And the strident sound of my inner trumpet
commands my usually listless soul
to stand at attention
Every time you, or thoughts of you,
come around.

You are my queen.
I live for you.
And if I must,
I shall die for you.

GOOGLING FEELINGS

Once again, my feelings got me into trouble. So i thought, what the @#$!%, i will have to deal with this feelings thing once and for all. Where do i start? Google, of course:

“Feelings are not supposed to be logical. Dangerous is the man who has rationalized his emotions.” -David Borenstein

See? I was right all along. But it doesn't end there. I was right about this one, too:

“You cannot make yourself feel something you do not feel, but you can make yourself do right in spite of your feelings.” -Pearl S. Buck

Oh well, sometimes i feel it's just so pointless being right. Oops! There...see? I felt again. Darn.

MIDNIGHT SNACK

Sorry, Santa. No cookies this year.

KAPE

It’s quite distressing how caffeine, that is supposed to just perk me up, overachieves its purpose and shoots me way past perkiness to a painfully throbbing state of catatonic panic, if there is such a thing.

Yes, there is such a thing.

My body moves around, desperately seeking life support for a mind and a soul that are almost dead.

ME, MORE OR LESS

i’m a leo, born in august. when asked, i always say i like the color blue. the truth is i like most colors i see.

i was born and raised in manila. i tried leaving so many times but i guess it’s true that home is where the heart is. my take on it, anyway. can’t live without a heart so i always find myself back home.

i was raised in a progressive catholic school run by belgian nuns. and then i was raised some more in a university run by jesuits. guess how i turned out.

i dabbled a bit in philosophy, a bit in literature, a bit in the social sciences. i tried teaching and enjoyed it for a few years, then got curious and joined the crazy world of advertising where i logically started out as a writer and ended up designing as well. i might come up with a profoundly inspiring reason for that when i write my life story. for now, i can only tell you the truth: i did it because i didn’t know what else to do. i sometimes find myself wishing i did myself and the world a favor and took up medicine or agriculture instead. but that’s just sometimes. i’m really okay.

i’m young. we all are. so let’s believe what george mallory, that great everest explorer, said: there is no dream that mustn’t be dared.

THE THIRD WORLD TRAVELER

I have always taken pride in the fact that I have traveled the world enough to deserve to be called a traveler. And I am not speaking merely of the long-haul flights to the far ends of the world. No, not just those destinations where, as a third world traveler, I had to pay not only for the journey itself but for the right to take the journey in the first place.

I also include in my list of journeys the adventures I’ve had in the back roads of the city where I grew up, where one of the most essential gears were eyes at back of one’s head. In the busy streets of the local business district where I think I tried my best to mingle with the crowd in the heat, dust and rain to get to the oasis of money that, alas, turned out to be a mirage. In the cozy and cold comforts of a sky-high office crevice where I managed to shrink my brain enough to be able to squeeze myself in and then squeeze some change out — sufficient for a nice pair of shoes or pants or shirt or food to pass the days by. In the maze of shops and restaurants where people eternally wandered and consumed but who, like me, never seem to be satiated. In the waters and mountains and barrios of the islands where it was my fate to be born. These are all far ends of my world, too.