From the heart, this time.
“I don’t think parking lots are as ugly as people say they are, I think parking lots are beautiful in fact. Although, they do serve an ugly purpose.”
“Storing cars?”
“Well, It’s a little unfair don’t you think? They destroy a bunch of trees to make room for this huge thing that stores little things that destroy trees as well”
Leave the real world behind.
A picture I took of Hannah Puyat on her 24th birthday
He touches me in the darkness,
The void which I never dreamed to fill.
He kisses me and a light begins to flood the emptiness
Painful and tender-
Like everything brilliant in the world,
Like the fireflies that used to be in the Manila Lagoons,
Like the illuminated parades in Diliman,
Like the light-show when you ride the train in December and
The drive home when streetlamps flicker their excitement.
His touch and our kiss is a dedication of love to the dark void which is the world where everyone is lonely, hungry or dying.
Demolition
The ground resists, but it cannot resist.
The earth tries to sustain,
To be intact always,
A purity that is unchanging,
But it cannot helped be destroyed.
Dug up,
Inside out,
Veins, roots, blood, mud
All pushed and pulped
Sprayed across itself.
The ground, the earth, the soil can keep resisting,
But everything is shaking.
The digging machine is man-made,
And we are all but victims of a pain that we cannot resist.
The ants, the dogs, and the birds always know first-
The rats find out, sometimes too late.
There is no resistance to change,
Nothing ever-lasts.
Harsh Weather
I could spend my life counting the midnights we have had together;
The night you asked if I wanted to kiss you,
A dozen orange-glow drives to my house,
And each time we shadowed each other at parties, etc.
I can’t believe seven years can take such a toll.
I will weather the cruelty of a storm,
I will persevere in the desert drought.
Mother Nature has made me a masochistic Meteoric.
Always City
I am always looking at my cityscape. From the filthy alleys and house porches, swamped streets and second floor balconies, from haunted trains to building views and from the windows in cars and buses. People, like insects and animals, pouring from their homes, that deafening sound of traffic, bar music and market-life. The velvet blanket of night, the lights in glittering beauty, but still you are always so very far away from me.
I am your pink and black forget-me-not.
Hannah Puyat on “Kunyari Anak Nyo Ako”: it’s a collection of poetry, stories, illustration, photographs by us and some of our friends under the group name Zigzag Animals. The title came from a joke that Diana made while she was drunk and we thought it would be a good reference to who we are, the people that we were always warned not be—girls who say always yes, girls who make up stories, girls who don’t pay rent and are basically unfit for domestic bliss, girls who traverse the city and its outsides developing a new sense of world that isn’t part of our parents’ plans for us. Most of the zine is geared towards that sentiment but also things we’ve learned from being this kind of daughter. The theme of our work revolves around sentimentality, growing pains, finding sexuality, everyday cruelties
In my dreams they had called out to me,
The Electric People.
