Molecular Sea

*Today’s word play brought to you by home made affogato-induced palpitations, James McMurtry on loop, during a 15 minute break from productivity

Inside my biological makeup of lucidities
And freeflowing what’s the matter
Amassed chubbiness and cheekiness
Spills of Bene-tinted blush
Some blood I hoped you’d never see bleed
Circulating chapters of conceptual nonsense in digestion
Matters of the heart I’d like to leave be
Stored particles which had been left to me
Along naturally lit spaces that map out
Thread counts of comforters and morning blues
Of arbitrary interim homes to miss
There are currents of caffeine and imbalanced chemicals
That tug and thwart me against my untamed wind
To the many opposites of a tumultuous sea
Like up and down; east and west
Right and wrong; pride and want
All and/or what seems like nothing
Fight or flight to flee
Right brain and leftist sympathies
Intellect sans a segment of my soul pinned to a thread
Convention and Alice-type-too-muchiness
This tropical garden; aΒ distant snowcapped moutain
Outward and inward; to you and more of me
I’ve laid out some glass jars to catch some rainwater
That just might mend me staggering into second place peace

molecularsea

Sunkissed

*Typed this up over a week ago on my phone when I was reminded that it’s okay to write poems and prose. I haven’t written any in so long since writing more serious things for school and work

I never liked the summer
No matter how they wrote it up in films
Of young romance and seasoned possibilities
Beach trips and tropical booze
Sunburns and how the sun burnt
But some days I find I don’t mind
How the light seeps through
All the corners of peach wallpapered rooms
How the shadows play on tiles and concrete
The occasional rainbow on the countertop
Passing through water bottles
Spaghetti strap sundresses
And sunkissed furniture
I think some days
I don’t mind the summer
🌞

had too much fun decorating this

In defense of the Alex Tizon articleΒ 

*I tweeted this discreetly after a blow up on social media from various parts of the world about the controversial long read. I noted there: article, because I intend to defend the article, not the things that happened in Alex Tizon’s piece for The Atlantic about his family’s secret

People demand truth but they blow up when it’s not to their liking, failing to recognize that the work was not a lie, in fact, a brave truth. It’s naive and idealistic to demand stories to paint black and white portraits of explicitly good and bad characters and behavior. Real life is a web of intersecting good and bad, where people, customs, mindsets, and the ways of the world, are allowed to change and grow. Scrutinizing and nitpicking issues from the place of privilege where one “knows better” is self righteousness guised as righteousness. People wanna intellectual-speak instead of opening up their hearts to a writer who poured his into this. Their bond, in spite of all that was wrong in their circumstance is more genuine than how subordinates anywhere in the world get treated. Note that you can hurt and walk all over people without having to break any laws or violate any basic rights. This was a lovingly written memoir of a family that captures the ff. very crucial phenomena in the human experience:

(1) There are remnants of servitude that haunt us as revamped forms of it still exist today.

(2) There is love in dark and difficult places.

We are all Alex Tizon when we are silent, but we can also be Alex Tizon when we choose to be kinder and softer.

Run the mile

schtudThere’s an impossible list of things to do before the paper of papers is due. If not for a fear of being intellectually inadequate as in not smart enough,Β it’s an even greater test of my discipline and ability to stay focused. I can submit a mediocre thing, but I’m not sure if I want to.

For the longest time I’ve been told and it’s occurred to me as well that I’m unfit and it’s often felt I wasn’t cut out for this. I may have taken a zillion detours to the many things I’ve wanted to do most in college and even in philosophy, but here I am and there’s an opportunity to make a little dent in our theories of thought. And maybe I’ll surprise myself.

You can go the distance,
you can run the mile,
you can walk straight through hell with a smile

Coming soon

*Been getting sick lately as I’ve been diverting my attention to my senior research which is due too soon, hence it’ll determine the rest of my year. I’m just gonna keep saying this to keep me going

Not long until I get to do the things I really want to do

The plight of the baby’s breath

*I tend to revisit photos I took from one of my favorite writing assignments for the school paper which was a Valentine’s Day feature a year ago. Wish I could revisit Dang Wa again but it’s gotten too hot so maybe on a cloudy cool day. I have a thing for wild looking flowers, as in roadside wildflowers haha

Florists have tucked stems of baby’s breath in and around larger centerpiece breeds for bouquets and flower arrangements for a long time now. They come a lot cheaper than the average showstopper rose and tulip. However as the wallflower of the flora world, in bundles especially, it has a standalone charm despite appearing precarious and delicate rendering it an extra on rotation in a commercial shop. Imagine being the decor for what’s already regarded as decor. But the baby’s breath’s hushed prettiness tugs at you in contrast along the dampened streets of a busy flower market against the medley of vendors trading in green for a sea of colors, a sight already typical in a place where bigger is usually better.

Tbh,

*Written, well tweeted lol, as I risked looking like an honest fool and this might be the only good thing that came out of it haha steps towards being less inhibited and hey maybe I’m back on the blog

There’s an honesty you owe others, yourself, and more importantly, the moments.

It gets tiring, having to tiptoe around a fear of being seen as weak, emotional, sentimental, soft, or sweet. It’s nice to be able to give people some kind of honesty that reveals parts of your most unapologetic self, along with your real thoughts and feelings. How else do we make more meaningful connections?

If something means what it does to you, let it be known, call, send an embarrassingly long message before things change and moments are gone.

I guess that’s how you do all that live and love thing a lot,Β and you owe it to yourself to do it ever so honestly and free of all your crippling fears.

We have no control of others’ choices but we can’t let that inhibit us from being ourselves. What they choose to do and how they react is a reflection of them and in no way related to what we truly think and feel about them, unconditionally and unafraid. It’s something to be able to look back with a smile about how we were fully there and alive, and human in our moments with others.