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Showing posts with label essays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label essays. Show all posts
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    Remembering Remembering

    The year 2016 will close in a few hours and my Facebook feed gets bombarded with how horrible the current year had been with its share of sh...

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    Stalemate

    Raindrops hit my ankles as I breeze through the cobblestones. Looming around are ancestral houses painted new, in a street littered with ki...

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    Childhood Bedroom

    I was nine when Mama decided to wash the whole house in light pink. My room was not spared. Pink was nice but too girly and the sudden colo...

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    Bunso

    In this photo you are a conqueror. Do you notice how we crowd to you? How we struggle to get into the frame, be included in your light? You...

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    Seattle’s Best Coffee, Tomas Morato

    Tuesday, July 5, 6:44 p.m. to 7:23 p.m. An ageing woman has a plump foot propped up on a wooden chair. She wears a bright blue baseball...

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    Pop

    A bulbous cherry glittered underneath a concoction of vodka and soda. I circled the mouth of the glass, the clear well illuminating the li...

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    Swirling: An Essay on Pottery

    I I lose myself, every time. The walk ends in surrender yet the struggle remains. It is fighting and losing at the same time, like how the...

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    Anger (Excerpts)

    II My history with anger began two years ago, when I jumped off the security ship and started freelancing and we started dating. Before ...

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    Swerve

    That kadin (local name for mountain goat) is a more experienced trekker than I am The other week, I applied for a travel writing scholar...

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    Mad Night

    My stock photo, please don't steal. The first night of my second trip to Baler had me clutching a Swiss knife, trembling from unkn...

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    Light

      Full bright orange embers flickered as he inhaled, the lithe fire gnawing the paper with ease. He pulled the cigarette off his mouth, bet...

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    I Think I Just Wrote Poetry

    The night of the first day of the first year had me writing. My mind won’t stop churning out words, thoughts, ideas. I am supreme and in con...

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    Acquired Taste (first draft)

    Red wine is not acquired taste. I have concluded that after countless Christmases when my father uncorks a dark full-bodied red and places i...

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