a dream is a wish your heart makes If a dream is a wish your heart makes then I’m wishing with the wrong body part. It’s damnably attractive, the thought of being whoever you want to be. It’s a dream to kill for. It’s a wish to die for. My heart and my mind and my family all want different things from me. I could probably make all of us happy if I lived more than once. I like the idea of never having to truly die, so that I don’t have to deal with the thought of one final death. One final breath. One last look at who I am and where I decided to go. Or didn’t. Or couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. But, I want it. Lights, camera, action baby! I want it all.
maris tumbis
joshua jesswani
john paul dominic lescano
schedule
sheena sobejana
7:00 am She woke up before her alarm again. She’s restless. 10:00 am She gets up and does everything she needs to do before going to work except breakfast. 11:00 am Right on time. It’s cold in the office, as usual. She starts to do the work that they paid her to do. She’s good at her job and people like her. Three years in the company and a top performer. She’s expecting a promotion soon. 8:00 pm Time to go home but there are still so much to do in the office. 10:00 pm She heads home. She hasn’t eaten dinner yet. 10:30 pm Dinner alone as usual. Everyone else is already sleeping. 11:30 pm She sits on the bed with her sleeping laptop. She opens the device and sees the title of her unwritten novel. She sighs. Maybe tomorrow. She thinks to herself. She sets her alarm to 9:40 am.
dianne acaso
dale x martini
alcohol Some drink to forget Others celebrate There are a few who Have nothing to do So they have a taste Of a bottle or two Whatever the reason Behind the obsession One thing is certain – It will lead to hangovers But manage to get over With drunk stories to tell.
pierre jarmonilla
choilando
mia reyes
john seva
Questions I Can’t Ask at Job Interviews
anna golez
Who did you vote for? Who did the bosses vote for? Who did my potential supervisor vote for? Honestly, who’s that one person here everybody hates? Every office has one, come on. If you hire me, could you place me somewhere a bit far from the others? I need to fart in peace. Is there sexual harassment— the “it’s just a joke” kind or otherwise— going on in this place? Am I allowed to react negatively when the inevitable rape jokes occur? Is it okay if I scream at people’s faces when they make disgusting jokes about women, especially about underage girls? When the inevitable misogynistic, racist, and general bigoted discussions happen, will I be fired for speaking my mind or should I just scream silently into a towel instead? I can be civil and polite, but can I also just be genuinely grossed out when the office perverts are
within close proximity? Say, five feet? Like, they’re not even doing anything, just living their pervert existence. I might not be able to control my facial muscles, so can they not act offended when I make gross faces? But like, they should be offended, right? Perverts. On a scale of 1 to 10, how homophobic is this place? Is my supervisor a man and on a scale of 1 to 10, how fragile is his masculinity? What percent of this office likes pineapples on their pizza? What’s your Hogwarts house? White chocolate—disgusting or the greatest thing? Paid period leaves should be a thing, am I right? I have mental health issues, but could you please still consider hiring me? I’m clinically depressed and sometimes I need to stay at a home for a day or two to curl up in a fetal position and entertain death, but could you please take a look again at my resumé?
What’s the bathroom situation like? Can one take a shit in peace? Do you regulate smoke breaks and make it seem like you’re being benevolent and concerned about health, but really you just can’t stand it when employees want to take a breather and can’t trust them to be responsible about their time, so you want to lowkey oppress them? Could you tell me where the bosses usually take their smoke breaks so I’d know where not to go if I end up working here? On a scale of 1 to 10, how delusional are you that the “war on drugs” will lead to any good and that it’s not at all a war against the poor? If I get this job, could I be excused from the stupid teambuilding exercises? If I get this job, would I be evaluated based on my performance or would how “nice” I am make a difference? I resent unwanted and excessive physical contact from people I barely know. If I get this job, how do I let the office know they can’t just pat or hug me even if they think it’s “cute” or “nice”? So. How do you feel about the Marcoses? Can I eat at my desk? I loathe communal dining with people I hardly know. Are breakfast meetings a thing here and how can I avoid them?
I’m not a morning person, so could you, like, just…not? Does this office have morning bible reading and sharing and may I be excused for forever if I get this job? I mean, you do you, I’m just not into that, y’know? And like, who wants to hear some self-righteous asshole preach about morals when they also happen to be the office pervert? Ugh, white people, am I right? Do you allow people to blast music from their computers and dear god above, WHY? Do you believe in “last one in, first one out” and dear god above, WHY? Do you believe in life after love?
darla mamuyac
katrina sagemuller
keanu joseph rafil
bencent gohing
chomin aberasturi
By the TxF Gutter I Sat Down and Puked carla nicoyco
While reading this, I advise you to look for Rain by Jonti and play it on a manageable volume; sit back, let your pillow spoon your back. Are you comfy yet? I’m a high school teacher at this laity-run exclusive girl’s school in Manila. Slightly fresh off college (I graduated the year before) I still feel immortal and invincible. I’m not sure I’ve aged much given the demands of checking and teaching and counseling and socializing— a parent saw me and thought I was a student, a student saw me and thought I was a student. Anyway, when I got my first paycheck, my dad was so delighted that he gets to scratch me out from his list of Shit I Have to Provide For. And now that I’m not part of that list, heaven knows the shame I’ve been through in times of “peligro”. I’ve been living as if next
week is always pay day. Drinking on the weekends is a top priority. Start the moment you get home on a Friday. Take a quick deep bath and off to 7 Eleven for blueberry flavored soju and Sprite or if I have scant resources, gin bulag, cranberry iced tea powder, and 5-peso tube ice. Gosh it’s such a pleasure to take in that first swig, and when you open your eyes you see the pile of checkables warning you that the next time you make them wait it will make you want to drink till you’re dead. Take another swig, longer this time. Please don’t get me wrong, I like drinking but I’m not an alchoholic... yet. My job makes me feel like a joke sometimes. I get to teach in a Catholic school and be this sensei worth emulating, but I’m all but worth emulating. Let’s say I’ve violated around 2 items on the faculty handbook. Sometimes
I feel like walking to the middle of Aurora Boulevard for the devil jeepneys to smash into me. I like and hate my job, tbh. I love it because I get to connect with people. I hate it because I have a LOT of things to check and I died during our essay and research paper seasons. I also hate it because I get to deal with whiny adolescents who say you’re their fave but also call you a cunt. Anyway, I got through my first year, I’m still alive, yes. Damages from last year are accounted for and this summer, I’m finally given enough time to prepare. We have to report to school 8-4, M-F. Let’s now go back to what happened last Monday. Right when the clock struck 4 P.M., I timed out and hurriedly walked to the tricycle bay. My friend will be having her graduation recital at 5 P.M. and if I’m lucky, I could be there on time. I was lucky, I missed half of it. After the recital, my other friend and I ate dinner at this chicken place. Let’s call him Dan. Now Dan invited his other friend, Gail, to join us. I’ve been wanting to meet Gail because I’ve been hearing about her quite often. When Gail arrived she cursed right away and said that she was really bummed that her friend won’t go drinking with her because it’s a Monday. Um, I don’t know how to react to her opening speech. I was a bit triggered because that’s what I would do, but for the sake of proving that teachers are not weak
or boring, I said I’d join them for a bucket at Cubao X. At the back of my head I was apprehensive. Wtf was I doing? The most sensible thing to do here was let the “youth” run their wild course while I go about “responsibly”. But here I was, walking back to my apartment with Dan to change. While walking Dan said that it’s okay not to go. I said it’s okay, it’s my choice, and I’m old enough to make decisions. Yeah, right. I had my objective in mind: I see Dan and Gail, drunk, slumped on me for support while I walk them back to my apartment. We decided to drink only until 11 PM so that we can still be responsible students and teachers. 9:00 PM. On the Uber to Cubao, Dan said his friend wants to join us. Let’s call him K. Now, I know this friend, and I’ve never been thankful I came along. I’ve had a crush on K for 2 years now, and I interact with him online with subtle likes. There on the passenger’s seat I was already imagining what a wonderful night it would be. I began to talk more. Gail played Maginhawa by Ang Bandang Shirley. Dan was still fragile about his ex and his ex flings. In Cubao Ex, we settled on Korean King because their bucket of 6 only sells for 300. Dan has smokes but he doesn’t have a lighter so I took the initiative to look for one instead of unnecessarily talking to strangers despite the fact that lighter
lending is a smoker courtesy. I saw K when I was walking outside and he asked, “Uuwi ka na?” I wanted to be cool so I said, “Yeah. Enjoy!” When I got back things are fine: K is talkative, we bully Dan, and before I knew it, we were walking along Romulo on the way to TodayxFuture carrying a Wellcome bag filled with Tanduay lapad and 1.5 liters of Coke. While K went off to buy ice, I went to the gutter and puked the black instant coffee, Sriracha wings, and Andy Player. I’m fine, I say. We go home at 1. It’s 12:36 AM. The guards from idk where asked us to leave and so we found ourselves inside Cubao X again, this time in front of Janylin. Dan and K left for smokes. While waiting for Gail to come back from the restroom, I wrote a short shitty piece and made her read it: Title: Ulol Monday The moon is sliced just a little bit on top, still gorgeous. I thank God for my youth, and this inglorious invincibility. I wonder how long this will last, if this state of mind will always be in my mind. May my heart remain young and insufferable, flowing through the darkness like the moon, swaying through the tides and the stars.
I made my own drink. It’s been a while since my last lapad. Dan and K got back. We played Kendrick, The 1975, and all the other seemingly hipster shit we have. Cubao Ex is closing. 2 AM. Gail and I didn’t care anymore. When we finished the lapad, we went back to Wellcome for another batch. 24-hour grocery stores are the best. It’s a bigger and more merciful convenience store. I don’t know how we made it past the second bottle. I vaguely remember anything aside from sipping my cup empty. I thought about the things that were scheduled for Tuesday: Submission of Professional Development Folders, 8:00-10:00 AM; Departmental Review, 10:30-12 NN; Grade Level Review, 1:30-4:00 PM. My cup’s empty, it’s 3 something AM. The Uber we got is an Avanza, and I thank the high heavens for a seat by the window. Back again in Aurora I opened the windows, inhaled the invisible, dirty air. Down along Kamuning I felt like puking again. I did. I got my Jollibee tissue and all was well. Good thing we didn’t use my account. We got down near my dorm, in front of JohnKen, the lugawan for people like us who had nothing else better to do than to constantly train out livers for the hard life. We all got lugaw and as usual, Dan finished his within a
minute, and I remember the rest of us just being so rowdy and noisy. Walking back to my dorm, I never thought K would be with us, and I never thought I’m in an elevated state, in contrast to what I predicted. I warned them all to keep silent. It’s a Tuesday morning now, 4 something AM. We settled in my room and just our luck, the air conditioner’s off now, so the room is getting hot. I got the extra mattress. Dan beside K. Gail and I. I said by 5 I’d wake up. By 5 I did wake up. I groggily took a bath. I felt okay, a bit sluggish, but okay. I made my instant black coffee, downed it in front of the fan. I woke Dan up. By 6 we all went down. I was in a navy blue top, black pants, and white Jack Purcells. A Birkenstock cap on my hand for my hair. I can’t believe this. The sun is creeping on us now. It’s hot and I’m sweating already, cold. My stomach felt like a malasado egg yolk. We said our ja mata nes and I walked along to the other street for the jeep to the train. I can’t believe this. I’m already imagining what my day would be like. There’s a huge chance that they could catch a whiff of liquor on me. My stomach would be broken (I don’t have tissue!). I’d be groggy and out of this plane. I got down the jeepney and walked towards Pureza, looking at the heavens and marveling at how the sky could look so happy when my head’s in a glitch and my stomach’s
a washing machine on hard spin. Walking now in Maganda Street, 6:25 AM. Sweat all over my hair, my shirt, my pants. Before I could even get to 7 Eleven for some air con, I stepped on dog poop. I looked up at the sky, blue and ferocious. My palms sweaty and shaky. I sighed. I thought about all the things that were scheduled for today, and I got my phone, went to messages, and typed, “Good morning miss *****….”
maris tumbis
featured artist
elwah gonzales Glucose : How and why did you decide to put up House of Frida? Elwah : It began when Co-founder Marianne Magalona invited me to put up a production house for events. Courtyard sessions 2 was the product of our brainstorming and throwing out of ideas for a gathering of local artists to celebrate art. Budding and pioneer artists of Bacolod were invited for a live drawing and finished masterpieces were auctioned. Partial amount of the funds were contributed to VIVA EXCON which Bacolod hosted that year and from that moment on, we had a space that turned into a gallery. G : How do you manage your time with both your art and your work as a gallerist? Does it help you as a gallerist because of your own experience as an artist and vice versa? E : By setting up my priorities, making plans and beginning with the end in mind is how i am able to manage my work in the gallery and with my art. Because of my time eaten with duties in the gallery, It’s a learning process for
me to produce quality works and that’s how it helped me as an artist. Every artwork, every artist and every show is a new experience to me and through this i acquire knowledge and maturity. G : What gets you in the mood to make your art? What is/are your motivation(s)? E : All kinds of moods make me make art but the strong ones keep me motivated and that’s love. CHAROOTTTTTTTTTT. G : As a gallerist, do you have a few words of advise for artists and would-be artists?
E : To look beyond art. Know what you want to say, why you want to say it and know what you are creative for because art is endless. G : Describe the perfect day for Elwah Gonzales. E : The perfect day for me is just simple. Upon waking up, I acknowledge the blessings i have and be grateful for another day to live and celebrate. A 30-minute run to say hi to the sun gives me energy for the rest of the day. Cooking plant based meals while watching cooking shows takes much of my morning time prior heading to Frida and there we feast on the food i cooked. There’s always time for coffee and must be black. Checking on my checklist in my planner with a red ballpen gives me a sense of fulfillment. Drawing, painting and or reading while my songs are on shuffle or while a certain playlist fits my mood and gives me a quick escape. It’s always the simple things that makes it perfect