After Cruz’s free verse poem comes another one to be analyzed. However, this one, written by C.K. Williams, celebrates another subject entirely: embracing and navigating through a world that seems too foreign at times. Williams made little use of figures of speech, and instead carefully crafts the narrative of his…

Kadalasa’y dumadating na lamang biglaan ang pag-ibig, at kadalasa’y din hindi natin namamalayan na tayo’y umiibig na pala. Bilang isang taong parte ng LGBTQ+ community, napag-iisip-isip pa ako kung mayroon pa nga ba talagang pag-ibig sa isang bansang hindi pa rin kinikilala ang mga tulad ko, ngunit binigyan ako ng…

This particular photograph of me on my 2nd birthday, now faded and slightly deteriorating, seems to mock me with my dimples and wide-eyed smile. The photo and the memories of my past are something that I often think of like a reflection in the water blurred by ripples. Anything can…

Labag man sa ating nakasanayang pag-iisip ay hindi talaga madali ang pagiging komiko. Sandamakmak ang mga komedyante sa medya, sa TV, sa radyo, at iba pa ngunit hindi lahat ay naitataguyod ang kanilang career sa larangan na ito. Mayroon kasing pangangailangan maging lutang pa rin ang personality mo o unique…

tw: blood, surgery, injections Metallic was the clanking of the medical apparatus as they operated on me. The anesthetic needle pierces through my skin and the anesthesia sears the vessels underneath my skin. Each painful stitch of the suture waltzes through the corners of my mind as my nerves have not yet numbed. Metallic was the smell of the swiveling chairs in a Jollibee at SLEX. A younger me clad in red pajamas spins with the chair, the red blurring as if a warning. I fell down.

Life passes us by so fast as if we are watching a scenery unfold through the windows of a speeding train. It is all a blur and we don’t even know where we came from nor do we know where we are headed. So what if we change our approach…

I have always been in a weird position regarding my name. At times I feel that my name is so unique that it makes me special among people, but sometimes I wish I don’t even have a name at all. Zeril Jan is a rather feminine name for a boy…

[ fiction, short story ] The boy had always known the world through words. At a rather young age, he took up writing his thoughts and emotions, bottling them up inside the confines of his journal. Whereas other people feel the world through experiences and actions, he experiences it through…

We often think of black and white film photographs as a product of a bygone age. When we see old photographs in their fading, sometimes sepia tones, there tends to be a disconnect between what it means to portray due to an internal bias, and it only comes off as…