I am currently thinking of all the ways that I’ll make it after graduating.
I’ve just finished a book I bought last July at Everything’s Fine, a charming bookstore in Salcedo Village where I spend some of my Saturdays at the pop-up street market shelling out some 300-odd pesos on chicken pad thai which I normally wouldn’t afford on a week’s worth of an undergraduate budget. Still, after a week of siomai rice—60 pesos all-in for 5 pieces beef, rice, and plastic baggies of garlic and soy sauce—nothing tastes and feels as good as the sultry barbecue-filled waft blowing all the way from Toledo Street. This is the fucking life.
Like many others here, I also want a picturesque brunch on benches which seemingly never vacate. People are like hawks. But I say it’s my turn to sit cross-legged with tupperwared meat and veggies on my lap for 20 minutes.
I do wonder long and hard whether these Salcedonians think that I am one of them. A more interesting theory: what if all of them are like me? Then, perhaps, I am indeed one of them in every theatrical sense. I hope to see them all of them backstage after the curtains.
But back to the book. It was an anthology of essays featuring Filipino queer authors on—you guessed it—queerness. Plus/+, at Iba Plus, Maramihan. The cover is a primarily orange optical illusion made up of crosses, making it appear as though it were animated.
I learned two things, neither of which are relevant to the premise of the book. First, I cannot read Filipino fast enough as I would with English. So I promise to read a lot more Filipino texts in the future so as to prove that I am not a victim of Western postcolonial hegemony. Peksman mamatay man.
Second, despite being a faithful Filipino citizen, I am also a mildly envious person. And I am afraid of admitting to this fact in writing. But, yes, I am envious of the prestigious educations, scholarships, fellowships, awards, and publication credentials of the contributors starting on Page 187.
But what would I know? The cover, after all, is still an optical illusion.
I have been taught that envy is a sin, a cardinal and deadly sin. So I should be grateful. So I should say grace. So, thank you, Lord, for the delicious chicken pad thai you have bestowed upon me on this blessed Saturday. Thank you, Lord, for this opportunity to study at an elite school, to be in the same classes as those who pay tuition in one fell swoop rather than three-part installments. But still, thank you, Lord, for bestowing me with a 100% merit scholarship in clutch.
I have been good enough, dear Lord. So in exchange, I would like all of this guilt to go away. Could You make an exception this time? I promise that envy breeds ambition. It is a sin I am more than willing to carry. If You let me keep this, it might just be my salvation.
In high school, math was one of the more troublesome subjects. Of course, I knew how to divide, multiply, subtract, add, at iba pa plus, maramihan. Though, I could never really get the hang of the symbols for less than (<) and greater than (>).
So I devised a little mnemonic. Think of it as Pac-Man: Small eats large.
7 < 9.
Seven ate nine, but seven is less than nine.
Weak eats strong.
I do not like math for I deem it to be too objective, too rigid, and too fatal. There is only but one answer. There are integers inherently greater or worth more than others. Even if we were to map out numbers on an infinitely extending line, considering infinity is indeed a possibility, there is always more and there is always less.
But say that infinity is incomprehensible, so we must concretize it. One to seven billion. The scale is still a scale.
So I am rewriting the laws of math as we speak. Seven is less than nine, yes, but I will make it so that seven will eat (<) nine.
Life update: one of my favorite phrases or terms these days is “social currency.” I’ve only held paper bills and coins all my life, so it was exciting to learn that I could buy things through the power of friendship.
Is social currency also subject to the laws of math? If so, how do we count it? What’s the exchange rate to Philippine Peso? Do you make monthly contributions through favors? Does the interest aggregate over years of effort?
It is Sunday and it is raining. I wanted to go to Legazpi for brunch today.
I am thinking of all the government IDs I have yet to apply for. My passport is all I have. But it is still Sunday, and all offices are closed. Tomorrow, Monday, is a holiday too. (Long weekend for all of us!)
I am dreading the application process on a rest day. What will I even need to bring?
A college diploma? A pleasing personality? 1 to 2 years experience? NBI clearance? A day pass at a rock-climbing gym? Backers? A creative portfolio? A TOR indicating you studied at the Big 4? Good teeth? A follow from a B-list model? A brand deal from a fast food chain? Proof of income? Instagram highlights of vacations in visa-restricted countries? An IELTS Band 9 score? Perfect attendance to every 2000-peso rave in Metro Manila? A birth certificate? A TikTok affiliate program?
Whatever, I’ll figure it out.