1. RG Hataman 2. RVG Lucman 3. Gov Adiong 4. Assemblymen Zia and Gandamra I have more trust in the Yellow party, obviously.

On local candidates.

1. Escudero 2. Hontiveros 3. Cayetano 4. Gordon 5. Casino (I don’t have the enye character on my phone.) 6. Trillanes 7. Anggara 8. Pimentel

My senatoriables.

I am Monday skipping all the days of the week in pursuit of the lost Sunday.

Sentenced

I desperately wish that there was something in this world—a word,
never mind that it was mine or not, a song, a scent, or an image—that
would remind him of me. It’s just that it is unfair that I am the only
keeper of the memories we jointly made. It is unfair still that I be
punished for my trying to steal his heart. Like a common thief, I am
sentenced to a thousand lonely nights. Unfortunately, I can’t bail
myself out just by offering my own heart.

I blocked you on Facebook not for you to not see me but for me to not see you.

The internet speed in Marawi is tortoise-ish, the videos I made that
is election-related wouldn’t upload. Betch.

Anyway, selfies are having a break too because my face is rounder due
to Nutella, strawberry jam, and Galaxy consumption, courtesy of my
generous Kuya Cahar. Round face or not, it has been a lovely summer so
far. As of the moment, I am bound for Iligan deciding whether or not I
should tweet the line I used as a title to my post.

Well I guess it should stay off the twirrverse until someone else
tweets it prolly without citing moi as the author. It’s just a line,
but still.

PSP. All day. Every staycation day.

The Campaign Sizzles

It’s two weeks to go before our nails get inked. Do you have a list of
your candidates to vote for? Would you mind if I change your mind?

Next post is on who I am voting for.

Anatomy odf a Heartache

  1. You’re starting to notice that things aren’t as smooth as they used to be. The dates aren’t as exciting. There are gaps in your conversations when you just run out of things to say.

2. You try to shake the relationship/pseudo-relationship in the hope that you can remedy whatever is wrong with it. You argue. You give gifts. You keep your distance. You smother the person with attention. Practically all the tactics in the book.

3. And then comes the confrontation. The deal or no deal. The all or nothing. You pray to have it all but you go home empty-handed. No deal. Nothing.

4. The next days are bleak. You wake up still surprised that it ended.

5. You bump into each other just to realize that it is still a no deal. And so you settle into a sort of resignation.

6. Finally, when you thought that you can’t go any lower, you see his photo in Facebook. With a girl. Not just a girl. But a girl who is wrapped in his arms. This is when you wait no more but you decide to walk away.

Achingly beautiful summer skies. Brain-freezingly cold latté. An invitation to afternoon nap. A headach looming in the horizon. A certain boy getting high with pot. A certain girl crying over her book. The colors covers the black of the canvass only to be washed away by the monsoon rains of June. A summer fling blooms and dies before happy hour leaving footprints in the sand.

#6 Dear future husband,

I hope you’re good in videogames. We’ll be spending some weekends on
the couch eating takeouts and beating each other in Tekken tag
tournament.