SCAMS

 Scams. It won't be a scam unless it sells , does it? Unless it puts food on the table, unless it's marketable.  What happened to decency, ethics and morality?   Have we gone that hungry, we forget? Or has all these been an acceptable, tolerable practice?  It's just art, it's just a game.  What are you complaining about?

And so we begin to isolate ourselves so we can deduce about what really mattered, right?  It's health, it's our families that really matter.  And the next thing we'll hear about...

PARAGRAPHS

 Lucky are those who have marketable obsessions.  These days we are now or seem to now insist to keep and stay home.   And no matter how hard we try to not get anxious about something, we still seem to get weary.  We hear it and we read it.  We've read about it and yes, we have learned about it.  And we're apparently still on this pandemic.  Which seems fake, which seems an acceptable deception or a blessing in disguise.  I don't know.  

People accept the predicament.   And we'll never know which news we need to keep catching up for or if we really needed to. Medical practitioners, more upbeat than ever, seem to get all the credit.  And it's for a healthy life anyway/  Doctors, nurses, and medical professionals.  Frontliners.  

And the government seem always up to the task.  They never seem to tire.  They never seem to get lazy.  All their faces, their continuous plight for more healthy ways.  Facemasks and everything.  They seem to want to make nurses of us all.  They seem to want to dominate and feed us their ways of living  Leaving and rendering some of us dumb.  Almost childlike, zombie-like figures, useless and dumb.  Some got lost, got lost along the way, helpless, asking for food, their ways of living interrupted.

And some folks are happy.  Well, we need to save ourselves.  It's a virus.  Like an economic virus or something.  People die here and there, and they seem to not want to lose count. 

MARK IT MARKET

In Economics, it's the opposite of scarcity. when you have more than you need, you will have or need to share. You don;t want to end up with OVERSTOCK. And if you need something back in return for it, you will have to sell. Selling out only meant that you really didn't want to share because you needed something back, in return for it. It's like "what's in it for me?".

ENGINES

We've seen too many cars, automobiles, mechanical prototypes and everything.  But much too often than not, some people are not too keen on the engines.  Since we put too much attention with its outer covering, design, the look, the color, the shape, the texture and feel.  We sometimes forget or failed to check or put more attention on the engines.  It's like a book judging it by its cover.

BOSSES AND BUSES

What kept us going for folks like us before was the thought that there were buses roaming around to

and fro our villages to take us to the city and back.  The transport service business ran for a number of years during my childhood, adolescence, teenage, college up almost to my adult years.  I don't know what happened to the buses, the drivers and the conductors. They must have gone too far and reached the space. Haha.  

I can still remember the first few days we  rode with the busses to and from school.  There was one that was called the SPACESTAR.  It was airconditioned and the seats were cozy.  We get to see and  meet

almost everyone from town.  And some of the drivers were unusually friendly as well. Among the 

famous drivers were "Nong Bert", "Nong Dodong", and "Saddam".  Haha

In our teenage years, we also found our ways reaching out for a cassette tape to send to the driver, to have it played while riding on the bus.  And everyone inside will hear your playlist as we ride along.  On to the college  years we always find our way for home knowing that  a friendly bus would take us home everyday.

And we get to see everyone who lives in our town through the buses. And of course, when some of our neighbors got  to ride in their on private cars, we opted for the bus.

Now the buses are gone. It seemed that the buses took our souls along.  Now, the trips have long gone, empty, like a railway train derailed and left hanging beside the driveways. No more bus stations, no more bus dreams.  Now that there's lots of jeepneys, pedicabs, taxis, and motorcycles, and privileged private,  restored, new, company and government owned royalty cars I still preferred the comfort of riding the humble bus.\

Are we now making way for the choo choo train?  Hehe

ISOLATION

Something has happened.  And it's too much of a bore to need investigation. Everybody seems to want to go home now.  They must have saved a lot of goods, things, and skills, away from home.  They missed home so much, now they badly needed a reason to stay home.  So there's a theory.  Something you might find yourself asserting from. 

But home really wasn't that kind.  So we needed this isolation.  Some ideas to keep peers, friends, and annoying relatives away from.  To keep a certain distance, to stay away, some space so to speak.  Social media has made it possible to almost keep track of everyone without having to meet or see them in the flesh.  No shaking of hands, no kissing on the cheeks, no exchanging of hands to send and to receive.  Instead, we have these cellphones in each of our desired rooms in isolation.   

We didn't need the germs, the extra burden.  We didn't need the virus, the influence, influenza, the influential.  We didn't need to be taught some more, we have information about this and that.  If we have questions, we can find them online.   Nurses, doctors at their usuals selves.  We now have facemasks.  And we have several acronyms to choose from.  The outsiders need to have some kind of pass to go to and fro,  And it apparently happens all over the world. 

LOCKDOWNS AND MODULAR THINKING

I don't believe this.  I've been living here for so long now. I can't remember the last time I had to introduce myself around. I don't think that times have really changed that hard so far.  We only have gotten used to having too many familiar faces around, that we didn't have to greet and dared taking time to notice some of our own hometown folk anymore.  Like school perhaps.  Sure, we have more paved roads.  We have more villages and subdivisions, villas, and what have we here.  Well, let's see.

We live in a city where it's supposed to have been a province first before it came to have been called a city.  But our place called "Lungsod ng Dabaw" or "City of Davao"  is supposedly in the middle of two provinces.  Or should I say four provinces? But that's not exactly always true.  Because we somehow or still do refer our city to belong to Davao del Sur (the south) rather than Davao del Norte (the north) .  And we also now have the Occident and the Oriental.  Oriental meaning the East, the Occidental meaning the West.  But here comes another which seems to want to squeeze in.  Yes, here comes "Davao de Oro."  Will we have "Davao de Occo"  soon enough?

Yes, I understand that every Province is composed of a municipality (a munisipyo).  And a Municipality (a munisipyo) grows out to become a City (a lungsod).  A City that belongs to numbered Region and somehow belonged to a State.  States that form a Country. 

If you Zoom in geographically, the smallest basic unit is supposed to be a family with a desired lot.  A lot of around say a hundred to three hundred square meters area.  A lot of only around a hundred square meters can not really suffice in the long run when a family grows to stay and remain in their own premises.  Unless, you know.  The Unlesses.  One child, several children?  

Okay, say we have a street of around 14 LOTS.  And these 14 LOTS will face a street which is named or will eventually be named after something.  Say a street that is named after a planet.  And these lots will have lots at the back of each of them. The same area.  14 lots and 14 lots are equal to 28 lots.  These 28 lots of and or almost the same area will have to form a BLOCK. Yes, we now have a block of 28 lots.  So the BLOCK would sure look like a rectangle with streets around, four streets if you simply draw it on your mind.  There will also be 4 corner lots. These corner lots will have two streets across them of course. And so basically, we will have more lots that would face the same street, 24 if we count them, and we have four lots that will have to face two streets.  Get the picture?  Well, yeah. It means that lots will almost or will belong to the same block but not the same street.  Get it? 

Okay, now we have a BLOCK  of 28 lots.  And so if we make four to even six BLOCKS  of the same size, we can eventually call it a DIVISION or a SUBDIVISION.  The more accepted term is a VILLAGE since these lots will eventually have VILLAS formed or constructed on them. So, these lots will have to be identified to have numbers on them.  I understand that we call it HOUSE NUMBERS. And they will have STREET NAMES.  In some places, they will have to identify them by BLOCK NUMBERS and LOT NUMBERS instead of just STREET.  And beyond how we identify them, we will never even know how our lots have been numbered or named after by other obscurities.  

But this is how I simply understood it.  A VILLAGE, a row of houses, of blocks and streets, along with other VILLAGES, a group of VILLAGES that form a barrio, called a BARANGAY. A BARANGAY, along with other BARANGAYS that form a DISTRICT.  And a DISTRICT, along with other DISTRICTS that form a CITY.   

And somehow we have another way of naming them.  A SITIO, A PUROK.  Clearly, it's troubling, by how this has come to be. Well, I'd like to think of it as simply an IDENTIFICATION between the FARMERS and the BUILDERS.  And we're not talking about the FISHERFOLK yet, who are closer to the seas and the LIVESTOCK producing folk.  Well, as I understood it,  that a group of VILLAGES that are closer to the FARMS, is called A SITIO, And a group of VILLAGES that are paved and are closer to the CITY is called a PUROK.  And so we could have several PUROKS and several SITIOS that form a BARRIO or the BARANGAY. But then again, this could all get mixed up.  And how we name them will have to depend on the PURPOSE of who and why we had to name, label, or identify them that way.

For what PURPOSE? Is there a CRISIS? Economic, Medical, Spiritual, Financial, Physical? An IDENTITY CRISIS still? Funny, how we sometimes get to identify people by where and how they live.  SLUM AREAS, DEPRESSED AREAS, RED LIGHT DISTRICTS,  MIDDLE CLASS, LUXURY HOMES, LOW-COST HOUSING, APARTMENTS, AUTONOMOUS REGIONS, HOUSING AUTHORITIES,  RELOCATION, TEACHERS VILLAGE, WAR ZONES, HAUNTED, ABANDONED, UNOCCUPIED HOUSES. 

Well, we have another way of naming areas in our CITIES too. The INSTITUTIONAL ZONES, THE RESIDENTIAL ZONES, THE COMMERCIAL ZONES, THE AGRICULTURAL, and THE INDUSTRIAL ZONES.  And of course, we can always name them HALF AND HALF of this ZONES, SEMI?  Basically, it's just PUBLIC  and PRIVATE ZONES  and our ACCESSES.  We have leaders and workers, elected officials for our ways of living.  It's still funny how we still do not get along quite well enough.   Politics, in the name of progress.  Hoaxes, fake news, deception, the media war, and theatrical operations.  Sororities and fraternities.  Old gangs and tribulations.  Ethnic diversities and Medical Emergencies.  Foreign affairs and tourism operations.  Half breeds and alienated folk.  Poor and rich, elites, sub elites, and lawyers.  Law enforcement agencies, law-abiding citizens.

Occupants. Occupants of Inter-Galaxy and ExtraPulmonaryCoronary craft.   Haha

SOUND GARDEN

Plants.  I'm talking about the kind that grows.  Not the power plant, not the ice plant, or any factory.  I have been put into this place where I have the chance to plant some seeds on the ground, wait for it to sprout, watch it grow, tend to it, and harvest.  The moment my brother gave me this pack of seeds, eight kinds, I started out.  

There's these 8 type of seeds in a pack that can be grown at home.  Considering the amount of work needed for this task, I prepared some boxes, trays and backyard space.  And my brother has this compost and my mother bought two sacks of garden soil.

And it will be like how we've done gardening or studied gardening before.  In the fourth grade in school at Ateneo de Davao.  We were given the seeds of our choice, each of us and a gardening plot where we were tasked to tend to it everyday.  So we had the chance to go out to the backfield where a well is just step away so we could water our gardens as we please.  4 pegs and some string, a rectangular plot like a plateau, to cultivate and tend to.

Well I had to ask my pops who has an agri-economics background from the University of the Philippines for some advice or just tips.  And so I planted the TOMATO and the PECHAY seeds on two separate egg trays respectively as suggested.  And the remaining six I will have to plant at the sideyard and at the backyard.  There were eight packs inside this large pack.  But there were two packs of CALABASA instead of just one for each.  And the EGGPLANT pack is missing.  So, there's 1> 2 packs of CALABASA 2> SITAO 3>AMPALAYA 4>TOMATO 5>KANGKONG 6>PECHAY 7> and OKRA.  So there's these boxes of garden soil with seeds in them.

I started April 9th. Now it's the 17th.  So it's more than a week since.  I added the ROCKET SALADEAR.  And our good neighbor shared UPO (bottle gourd) and some CUCUMBER seedlings.  Aside from another neighbor sharing her cacti and the flowers mother was tending to closely, I am now raining water into these seeds, watching them sprout, showing up and grow,  my mother smiling. 

PLAY DEAD

Play dead.  How does that really happen?  Haha. Or was there a DEAD LOAD in your structures, light as a feather, thin as paper?  Did you happen to have caused something to be built out of someone's, or somebody's valid visions?  Did you happen to have tended or was put to a place of isolation, away from the crowd, away from your own families and friends?  Like a student who was put to too much homework and fieldwork where a seemingly small distraction can cause too much trouble?  Or were you just freely roaming around without any care for anything all?  

We really are a different kind of person to different kinds of people.  It just doesn't add up if we keep analyzing this and that.  Unless we really needed to.  Those whose mobilities were too challenged, where distances and areas matter too much in their everyday lives.  But why were we put it into tasks that were really too much of a bore to some degenerate?  And the more you need or want to explain yourselves, the more you got misunderstood.  And in no other way would you convince people that it's not the way it is.

How persuaded were we really to put into motion everything that we held true and convincingly the most virtuous?   The people we know that we needed to personify so as not to be held helpless if we were to put ourselves in some close friend's place, like a substitute.  Could we perform the same tasks we sarcastically held to be nonsense and lies?  Or were we the kind of person that just doesn't really care?

Hmmm.  Assume positions held by someone else.  A rank.  An official.  Will you be able to do it alone without anybody's help these days?  Like how we were put inside into make-shift cubicles, rooms, four-walled, structures...sitting down, working our asses off together but essentially goes home alone anyway.   Among us who converted and now have treated our homes like offices.   Something our fathers were not really taught how to be.  And we somehow get frustrated because we can't find the time to teach them the same since it's too much information.  And relations get mixed up.  You can't teach old dogs new tricks.  It won't work or it might not really matter.  Or you could just say "I can't see any reason for me to do so.  I am unfit for the job.  Give it to somebody else."  And the person who expected more from you is none the wiser for the job anyway.

UNAMPLIFIED

It is reflective.  You'd find yourself stationary, reflectionary.  More like mirrors than walls.  Your thoughts arrive more like dragonflies than butterflies.  Your thoughts coming out of your pores, vapors steaming hot like lava out of you.  You resist and you had to be rocked to put you into submission to let it go.  Like the gas from your system,  prrrrt.  prrrrrropooooot,  hahahaha.

It needs a push, a rub or you might find yourself in pain.  Your circulatories gyrate around you and another will find himself more of an avid listener around you.  Your ears ringing like radio, antenna-like, you had to probe along.  It's physical, mental, psychological.  Like the moon yesternight you were dumbfounded, like a camera that zooms in and out of your life.  

And you find the others too, also dumbfounded.  Guests all around like ghosts from the past, feeling crowded in a spacious room.  The distant neighborly chair somebody moved that sounded more like a fart than a drag.  And you wondered why you never heard yourself moaned or snore in bed.  

You worked your way out of it.  Some dramatically, somehow intelligibly.  It's embarrassing you thought.  I had to break out, you say.  I have to run.  Hahaha.  out of my room, my house, my city, my country,  Hahaha.  And into the woods, you'd find yourself free from troubles momentarily.  At the beach, where the winds will blowhard.  Underwater where only fishes may find you.  Swim or surf on, wade along and strike along like flying.  And then you come out and go underwater again. Breathe in and breathe out.  Deeper, further,  forward and couth.  March and back.  Haha.