June is all about freakshow weather, outrageously-heightened bibliophilia and the inevitable hibernation (read: oversleeping). I guess when you’re all holed up and alone within your cerebral sanctuary, you might somehow realize how it’s a sad thing that these storms are in fact, the closest to winter the Philippines will ever get. And you might also be pensive enough to wade (or wallow, whichever the case might be) through your old stuff, and well, contemplate, just for kicks.
Today, I was pensive enough. I’m actually bed-ridden and shivering, too. And yes, I went through a pile of junk I wrote back in the good old days. I found my dog-eared copy of Manilayo’t Manilapit (Gulong sa Bubong at iba pang Manileno Blues), a 2010 Literary folio where seven of my poems and a short story got published.
Here’s one of them, a poem I crafted one humid evening, the September I turned eighteen. I’ve entitled it Expiration Date, for a reason I could no longer remember. Art and Illustration by my lovely artist-friend and school-mate, Isabelle Chiang.