shameless plug

He believes in its power. As a marketing tool, nothing is more readily available than that kind of plugging.

Anyway, just like what I had requested three months ago, I will tell you right now to grab this week’s Philippines Free Press issue, August 21. My short fiction, “Poetry in the Time of Influenza” is published in it alongside the gorgeous verses of Ned Parfan and Ino Habana.

The illustration of my story is perfect; it frames the image of my ill condition when I am writing it last year. This is my first published fiction so please pardon the overblown enthusiasm in this post. The critiques and suggestions of my fabulous co-fellows and panelists of the 10th IYAS Creative Writing Workshop are definitely helpful. And to you, Celeste June Rivera, thanks. You are my VIR—my Very Important Reader. You know that.

one year

Today’s just the second day after my first year of being at work. I have never anticipated that one corporate year feels that long. Seriously, it is very long, like some Inception-esque dream within a dream time stretch.

The job, for the most part of it, requires me to sit on a chair for nine hours straight in a day, staring at a computer monitor, being advised to water down what I have written for the benefit of people with lesser comprehension. These do not sound easy.

I graduated with an underappreciated degree, though flanked with favorable decorations, but to keep the mill running when there’s only a cheap and rotten carrot in front of me is not inspiring.

Suggestion: just stop. Well, there are other concerns.

For one year, I have been thinking a lot: the morning traffic, the evening traffic, the unpredictable weather (good thing I still hold on to each day my already-battered umbrella), the next pay, the balance dues, and the receding and thinning hair. And I sleep, then wake up, only to find myself bombarded with the same thoughts. And yes, the hair!

Whereas in the past all I have been thinking are my purportedly-scheming professors, my grades, my next-day’s dress shirt, and my allowance for my all-day starving Ben, I am now a full-fledged inhabitant of the country who needs to see where his tax money goes.

Yes, I have mentioned before that I complain a lot. But this time, I think my complaints are better, with much purpose.

Today’s just the second day after my first year of being at work. And I hope I can clear up my mind. I need a new umbrella.