Confessions of Måröchárîm: Literati
3 comments • Marocharim • May 29, 2009
“Uy, nag-Dumaguete workshop ka lang ibang-iba ka na ha,” a friend of mine said when I arrived, sporting a ponytail that made me look even more like a woman. “Di ka na ma-reach!” another friend said. I sat down on a chair, puzzled and confused. I poked around the platter of chicharon bulaklak and wondered [...]
There are things I'm afraid to tell myself. Instead, I choose to reveal them the world. In sickness, in spite, in all unpleasantness, even in disease. I'm a babbler, a ranter, a writer: neither spiteful nor kind, neither rascal or honorable man. Neither hero or vermin.
