Jolens the Muse


Because words are not on my side tonight and because I still owe Eila fourteen facts about myself — here comes the kraken:

Thank you Krishelinda for nominating me. Krishel paints pretty fan art and arki drawings so go check them out!

The rules of the award created by Okoto Enigma are these:

  • Put the award logo on your blog.
  • List the rules.
  • Thank whoever nominated you and provide a link to their blog.
  • Mention the creator of the award and provide a link.
  • Tell your readers 3 things about yourself.
  • Nominate 10 – 20 people.
  • Notify your nominees by commenting on their blog.
  • Ask your nominees any 5 questions of your choice with one weird or funny question (specify).
  • Share a link to your best post(s).

Instead of three, I will share 14 things about moi:

  1. I don’t eat meat anymore.
  2. I have wonky teeth so I wear Invisalign.
  3. Three homies who changed my life (sort of): Karl Marx, Vladimir Lenin, and Mao Tse Tung
  4. I love oversized jackets with huge pockets à la Lindsay Weir.
  5. I don’t separate puti from de-kolor.
  6. I used to watch a lot of Japanese dramas.
  7. I love the word “tender.”
  8. I am super stoked for the World Cup next year.
  9. I know how to program in Assembly pero medyo lang.
  10. I prefer this_style over thisStyle.
  11. I find it weird how blog awards use the term “nominee” but declare no winner.
  12. Lorde’s Pure Heroine is constant in my top 10.
  13. I’m waiting for Saga to wrap up before I read the rest of the issues; I stopped at volume 5.
  14. I’m currently trying to figure out whether “try to relax” is indeed a paradox or not.

Continue reading “Jolens the Muse”

Flash Friction

Flash friction

Warren is cute and some nights I undress him in my thoughts. We spend the awkward morning-after in the lunch room while I stand behind him and listen, patiently, to the cappuccino slowly dripping into his mug. He turns around, smiles, and the machine whirs as if begging either of us to break the silence in its stead. But he doesn’t and I don’t, and he goes back to his seat and I go back to staring at his shoulders, broad and brooding, his white shirt pristine unlike the pictures in my head, dirty as if drenched in endometrium sludge like a six-hour old tampon, the bleeding elephant in the room.

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Vlogging the mundane

This girl Nik has a very interesting project: she takes short video clips every day and puts them together in a video collage at the end of each month. She posts the videos on Facebook and I am always low-key impressed with the diary-esque quality of her clips.

But Nik’s life is far more interesting than mine. She swims and snorkels; she watches a throng of hot air balloons as they simultaneously take flight. Even on her off days she records herself playing the ukelele. And meanwhile there’s me, living a life that’s not even half as interesting as watching a plastic bag drift through the wind like an aimless piece of, well, plastic.

Still, I try.

I am aware that this ennui of sorts is such a burgis predicament to have. Surprisingly, however, I have not really chastised myself for taking videos of scenes that are otherwise considered pointless. What is so relevant about my feet as they walk? How does my cooking adobo trigger people’s consciousness?

I guess I’m just as bored as I should be and, thanks to my middle class privileges, I found a way to temporarily escape the routine that my life has become.


I almost hit a deer!

Putang INA
Stock image from Canva | Words mine (duh)

So I was on my way to work yesterday and everything was chill — music was great, Hozier’s “Work Song” I believe, and I was actually running a few minutes early until PUTANG INA MAY USA!!! There was a fucking deer who popped out of the bushes and ran across the road like he fucking owned it! Walang abiso bes!

It was almost a Rory Gilmore moment except 1) my car wasn’t parked and 2) the deer did not hit me. Glad I was only going 100 kph, otherwise I would have had to spend boatloads of money (that I currently don’t have) to have my car fixed. And of course the deer would have gotten smooshed and I would’ve had to deal with a roadkill of my own doing. Stress baks!

Four years in this country and now I have my first — and hopefully last — close encounter with a deer. Lesson learned: never take those yellow road signs for granted. Also, always keep a good distance away from the car in front of you. This story would have gone completely differently had there been other cars around.

How do you get people to take pictures of you?

A couple weeks ago my friend V successfully prodded me into joining Tinder. I currently live far away from “home” and being a newbie to this small town, I thought maybe Tinder could help me find new friends if not more. You know, more.

Obviously I encountered some hurdles, one of which was the fact that I still have an iPhone 4s which barely has any memory space left. Downloading a new app, therefore, means getting rid of others. So I took Step 1 and deleted Guitar Tuna in favor of Tinder.

But the bigger issue was far worse than owning a dinosaur phone: I didn’t have a Tinder-worthy picture! You see, friends, I’m really not into social media. WordPress is the social-est social medium that I have and I only have two—the other being Facebook. And I don’t even have a profile photo on Facebook!

So I scoured my tagged photos on FB to no avail. Most of them were group pictures from outings or tagged posters of university events. I asked photographer friends if they have pictures of me and most of the ones they sent back were candid photos. They’re basically frames of me captured mid-conversation, mouth intensely frozen in some awkward position. Not flattering at all.

I eventually found one picture, used it on Tinder, but deleted the app soon after I realized that it made me feel gross. I felt bad every time I swiped left. It was shallow and judgmental and I figured that by putting myself out there, I was also at the receiving end of such obnoxious superficiality. Ang daming chaka. They may not be creepy in real life but “creepy” was the word I used when I reported back to V and told him that I didn’t even last 5 minutes on the app.

That was weeks ago and I couldn’t care less about it anymore. In fact I realized that I really, really hate having to go outside for other people. B, a classmate who also happens to live in this new town, has been inviting me to do shit but ugh, I just don’t feel like hanging out. It’s so synthetic. I hate having to come up with topics to talk about, having to fake laughter, having to act polite. I guess I’m just not built for socializing with people who don’t hate the same things that I hate. But I digress.

While my brief stint at Tinder is now a thing of the past, I still feel uncomfortable about the fact that I don’t have cute pictures of myself. Everyone on Facebook seems to have fancy, non-selfie profile pictures except for me. Is this an off-shoot of my being a homebody?

But even so, even when I’m out with friends, I still don’t ask them to take pictures of me. I’m usually one of the few peeps with a camera but still, how do I ask people to take my photos? Umm, hey, could you please take a pic of me but make it low-key so people don’t stare at me and your lens doesn’t feel like it’s capturing all my deepest pores and insecurities? Please?

Do people not have a problem with having their photos taken? Are they just not scared of asking others to take pictures of them? From where do they gather such confidence?

Ayayay buhay. This is a first world problem, I know. Something that isn’t even worthy of taking up space in other people’s brains. But we’re living in world so prone to oversharing so allow me to share my self-indulgent thoughts instead—I guess it’s miles better than sharing my face.

Jumping Jolens

Mabilis na akong mag-type hayskul pa lang. Natutuwa kasi ako sa tunog ng niraratrat na keyboard—parang mabibigat na tagaktak ng ulan sa bubong na yero tuwing buwan ng Hunyo.

Nagba-blog na rin ako hayskul pa lang. Mahilig akong magsulat tungkol sa mga paborito kong banda, sa current events na hindi ko naman lubos na nauunawaan pa, at sa mga pangarap ko sa buhay. Mahilig akong magsulat tungkol sa sarili ko at mahilig din akong magbasa tungkol sa personal na buhay ng ibang tao.

At dahil personal ang atake ko sa pagba-blog, hindi ko ipinapaalam sa mga kaibigan ko na nagba-blog ako. Nakakahiya. Hindi handa ang puso, isip, tadyang at balun-balunan ko na tumanggap ng pang-aasar mula sa mga kaibigan kong dalubhasa’t beterano sa panggagago.

Bago ko sinimulan ang Jumping Jolens, may blog akong mahal na mahal ko. Pakiramdam ko iyon ang peak ng aking youth, ‘yung panahong nagkukuwento ako tungkol sa kagustuhan kong makapag-aral sa UP, sa paghanga ko sa Eraserheads, sa pagkahilig ko sa mga bagay na jologs, at kung ano-ano pa.

Kaya lang nabisto ako ni JL, ang katrabaho ko dati sa student paper sa UP (oo, natupad naman ang pangarap kong mag-UP). Nagsusulat ako noon ng blog post, nakalimutan ko na kung tungkol saan, nang biglang narinig ko ang boses ni JL mula sa likuran.

Naks, may blog siya.

Continue reading “Jumping Jolens”

When the night has come…

After watching Stand By Me for the hundredth time a few days ago, I was urged to finally finish Stephen King’s The Body from the novella collection Different Seasons. This throwback of sorts was triggered by binging all eight episodes of Stranger Things, a Netflix series about many things strange (alternate dimensions and gooey monsters) and heartwarming (a mother’s love and the solidity of childhood friendships).

Consuming all these coming-of-age stories is not doing any good to my self-esteem. I am currently trailing the remaining days of the summer and being reminded that I am now older than River Phoenix when he bid buh-bye makes me feel deeply sad and lonely.

Aside from that one time when I went out on a picnic with a few friends, I did nothing else this summer but work and sleep and sleep some more.

Continue reading “When the night has come…”