Details now matter: what bus did you ride today, how long did it take you to go to work, who are your seatmates (who is trying to sleep while you stare at them, vice-versa), how many tickets were given to you and what colors (but will never matter with a ticket from a printer because it will always be white), how often does one see airplanes pierce through cumulus clouds or the early morning blanket of smog, how many hours were you asleep last night, how many minutes can you keep being the seatmate who isn’t sleeping, especially knowing how long it takes for the bus to exit the Skyway, now measured in terms of the album that you have just illegally downloaded but promised yourself to buy it off your salary with a big chunk of income tax taken away automatically, what cannot be heard from the bickering siblings on the other aisle, what were the promises whispered from one lover to another, how many ounces of care do you pour over to these people, how much caffeine and/or sugar have you consumed just to keep your eyes wide open during a day job, what did you do in between stopping this post for a draft and continuing a whole damn year after, what happens during an imaginary exile at 21, how it mattered only to you

22 January 2014 – 9 January 2015
future self & past self
Bonifacio Global City, Taguig
Katipunan, Quezon City


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