Sitti and her dad

Like a movie but heart-wrenchingly real, Sitti lost her Dad last year whom she also just met a few months earlier. Maybe it was a miracle or her father's determination to stick to life until that day to say good bye.. I like to think that it was a preordained event that would give hope to daughters longing for their fathers and for fathers longing for their daughters...

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Tikbalang

Here's a Tikbalang for the comics Kampilan. Drawn in Photoshop with Wacom intuos.

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Tala

This is  a new character from the Kampilan comics. Drawn in photshop with Wacom intuos.

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A single mother's love

It was a time when most people heaved a sigh of relief as they get out of work. A time marking a precious moment with the family. I walked passed our street with a tired face, trying to ignore the people around me. But the scraping noise right in front of me was hard to ignore. I tried make out the image amidst the darkened street. At first, I thought it was a street dog ravaging the garbage bins, but the cart full of organized plastics and cartoons proved me wrong. As I walk nearer, the silhouette became clearer: a woman was carefully salvaging cans from the garbage bins. She was doing it with all calmness trying not to make any noise. As I pass by, I caught a glimpse of realization. Tucked inside the cart was a small boy, not older than my son Jas. He was sleeping silently.

I got home, went straight to the remaining loot bags my friends donated and went out, hoping that the woman and her child are still there. I left the bag with the carton sheets, making sure that the woman will find it for later.

I was filled with thoughts about the mother and child. The walk back home was much heavier when I was carrying the bag.

What if I Died Today?

What if I died today?

Have I made a foot mark enough to make an impression?
Will my eulogy be made from someone else's quotes? Einstein or Coehlo?
Will my body be carbon dusts or worm feeds? Or will I make the choice?
Shall I be forgiven? Or shall I easily be forgotten?
Will my smiles be remembered after a year or two?
Or will I be remembered in my children's traits?
Will my children learn from me in my letters? in blogs? in social videos?
In friends' recollection with a bit of imagination?
Or in programs and games, easily stored as bytes of data?
Will they hate me for not being there in their puberty?
Will my best friend name his dog after me as a last piece of humor?

Shall I die trying to live, or will I live trying to die?
Maybe I won't know. Maybe it doesn't matter at all.

yes, maybe.

AN EARLY MORNING GOOD NEWS

It's great how google search result would brighten my early morning. It's been almost a week since we've been fruitlessly finding news about my friend Tristan who is working in Haiti. I never knew that my googling his name and Haiti today would give me great news. His name appeared on the accounted safe OFWs there:

http://www.manilatimes.net/index.php/component/content/article/42-rokstories/9925-78-more-pinoys-accounted-for-in-haiti

http://us.asiancorrespondent.com/tonyo-cruz-blog/list-of-65-filipinos-declared-safe-in-haiti

The news was just posted a few hours earlier. I hope his family received the good news already :)

The Distant Cry

If my life, be a calamity,
then I would be the earthquake.
I would shutter the ground into pieces,
pull mountains to crumble beneath my feet,
reduce boulders into dusts,
and make the waves of the ocean chaotic with fury

I will make my presence be felt from afar.
I will cause havoc and fear to all terrestrial beings.
I will be the ending rumbling voice that will resonate long before silence.

And as mighty as I've risen from below, as horrid as my death will be.
Not bursting out from the solid soil.
But forever trapped into my own calamity.
As death decomposes to fragments
of bones and ashes and no more.