Speck of Light
Ours is a time of desperate needs. Time is fast dripping away straight to the cosmos. We are in that moment of history where all of those faithful sacrifices of those blessed heroes all seem futile. But still, I continue to hope, to long for that day of victory. I can only dream of that now as I sit myself snuggly on this barrel of gasoline, behind me that study drum of water resounding as maggots wiggle their miniscule bodies inside and beside me a wonder of public transport, a bus whose humid temperature pursues on to my rough skin as I bask my eyes through this wondrous object they call book. “Cubao! Cubao! Cubao! ... aalis na! “Fairview, Fairview” Life as a barker is the hope I have now. It is the only way where I can go in this country where things difficult. I never wanted to be this way, but what can I do? “Hi Pacho” called that old lady sitting in this bus stop every moment of the day and night. The stench of that woman punching my nose. Yet, I converse with her wholeh...