we are all broken...to hundreds of shreds..to thousands of pieces..some of us don't know it yet..but we all are. and while we try to breathe and sift through life...we equally summon death and his chariot. the fear grows...
and the mirage we see among the mist becomes a moist almost felt. and as
he comes...bringing gripping terrors...an eerie dirge til we go deaf...
the velvet swamps, muddied faces, coarse and ripped hands...desperately trying to huddle us for hunger, they become real-faint but surfacing the soils of the ancient ..
until no betrothed shall ever sing the song of love...
no mother shall ever lull an infant... no father shall make a skillful woodwork...no priest shall ever sing worship of god.
I don't know any person in my network who doesn't like/love Baguio. Personally, it's one of the cities that makes me feel I am nowhere near the grid of chaos. I am somewhere else (or that's just me). Anyway, we're here again in Baguio. Yes, we are here again and we're not just here to devour ourselves with overwhelming amount of food and alcohol from our good friends, we're here to share a part of our craft which is our music and to listen and dance and get wild with their music as well. :)
Shot from our stroll/hiking at Tam-awan Village. Dunno who these guys were looking for. Probably their gypsies.
The vines and the curls of Domeng's hair blended well with the village's earthly feel. :)
I can't put any words about this photo. All I can say is this suits very well to the music that's playing right now on Sep's computer- Country Disappeared by Wilco.
Hooray! we reached the top! But we didn't plan on how we're going to get back to the village.
One of Session Road's old buildings. I love the bricks.
So, this is a photo from our college tour. Haha. Nah, none of the people in this photo are still in college. We are now working class heroes and we needed a breather. Session Road was indeed a good help.
So much for being a tourist. It's raining and I can't get my ass off to shower. Taking a warm bath is not my style. Party later! It's our Prom Night! (this will probably be a salvation for people who had their worst nightmares of prom when they were in high school).
Press withdraw. Choose savings. Take everything (but you can let go of tenths and cents). Secure the hundreds, the thousands deep into your pocket. Where to now? A chicken fillet meal and a regular fries and soda won't hurt, eh?
Reward yourself. Pay your rent and your debts. Pay your taxes and get caught in the traffic. Be imaginative and comely with your fashion. Shop to the nearest thrift stores in your area. How much is left? How much is left for the next fifteen days?
Do not forget to buy your groceries. You live communally, but your smell is YOU. And then there are beers to drink. One bottle is useless and so is two.
A day could be a thousand worth of what you have taken from that machine and you have fourteen days to count. To live. To earn. To retell this is to relive the cliched cycle of your fifteen days as a worker who works for (noun here).