"I am an instrument in the shape
of a WOMAN trying to translate pulsations
into images
for the relief of the body
and the reconstruction of the mind."

written by Adrienne Cecile Rich

Wednesday, August 01, 2007


i'm already dead. grieving moments like these call for some sort of condolences.

i can't say why i'm dead. just that i am.

too many terrible things to happen in just a single year. can't it stop? no wonder i don't have peace.

i don't know what to do anymore. call me insane, but it just keeps on rolling, like a snowball down the mountain.

but what do i have to do? keep on going 'til it kills me? ultimately that'll mean killing myself. no, life killed me.

what a way to carve on my headstone: Mariel, died at age twenty. Life killed her. Bless her soul.


p.s. this reminds me of a thought we students had some time ago.

what does war and UP life have in common?

both can kill you. if you survive it, you can survive anything.

p.p.s. and again i'm reminded of a text message sent to me by bevs.

it's not nosebleed in UP.

it's bloodshed.



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Saturn's precious star
the elder sister
a squirrel under the oak
never early
Venus' healing herb
la luna de la noche
a girl of wishes
pride inside
pretending to be smart
nicely tucked in
a lady not poised
the talahiranya

Location: San Juan, Philippines

Notes and scribbles of a wayward child

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