CHILDREN'S PLAYGROUND
By:Iris P.Concepcion
In my almost existentialist forays unto the world of the living for the past six years that had seen and heard isolation, loss, bullying, threats and digging unto the psychology of persons (the best gauge is how they react to money), I am thankful that I have seen the better side of humanity without the benefit of headlines and much mouth bullhorning. I often wonder why I must be so stubborn getting my own way, on my own terms, even if I have to shrink whatever I currently own. Let it be, but let it be for NOT following what is just popular.
Years ago, I had written some of my rough ideas on how I would like to be governed as a citizen. Some of them had been copied or extracted by inutile and haughty basketball players who thought that height is a badge to earn credibility. Not. I emailed these aspirations via a State of the Nation pseudo address. I wrote about my small nuggets of un-wisdom on this website.
I am not sure who had accidentally bumped into my words. By sheer magic and wonder, the things I aimed for on a public scale (those that could benefit millions and not just the upper echelons of society) started raining down on the fields. I did ask for better public parks; for better-looking pathways; for faster-functioning government agencies.
By long shot, I did wish for a corrupt-free society.
Since I am a walker, I wished for safer road pathways. And well-constructed roads. I got this eventually via the more circumspect group of public servants. I dub them my public, working boyband. There are lots of them milling: I saw these figureheads when I was taking the pictures above.
Yes, they are still not haughty to take credit for the things they had started. Unpublicized implementation of public works seem to make them hermetian all of a sudden. In fact, out of their generosity of appropriation, they placed the names of people other than them in the wall of appreciation. Garbage cans bear the names of politicians that they have never handled; societies get congratulated for things that they had not solved.
This place is a labor of fatherly love; of a ring hellbent on making my wishes come true. Anyone who says I am shooting for nothing must come visit the places I am writing here. I have been to this area before and the carabao was not even cleaned up. The brains behind the improvised lot have benches carried by frogs; shoes straight from my fantasy fairy tale books. They even have the gift of laughter as them creators painted the crocodiles with their favorite colors(yellow, purple,green,blue). The old structures, you can likewise compare with the new ones: the old ones have sand structures underneath the swing and seesaw.
Go to the comfort room: there is a good, mall-like, expensive faucet and heavens, it is working. It is Italian-made.
I texted my ascendants, this may not cost much but out of the little amount that you have contributed, creatively, you have made a lot of people below 10"feet extremely happy. They need not buy P100 worth of game cards now to play the wild imaginings of their tender, creative life.
I might not be writing daily on this blog since I am following Santa on his sleigh, hence, I play favorites as a way to thank all the people who had formed my own way of thinking in an embracing and expanding way. The way you have treated me shall last a long, long time in my memory of scribbling existence.
TOP LIST OF CHRISTMAS "MADAMDAMING SALAMAT":
1.) The newspaper Philippine Star= In case you have not noticed, most of my favorite people's words reside inside these pages. And in case you have not noticed more, they are giving a new twist to writing that is grand, illuminating, upfront and reading further, overtly original. I have not experienced this kind of editorial hand in my entire life of digesting letters. It is a difficult task, you can see its style being labored for hours inside a dinghy, alternate world of sourcing. It reads like an underground blog, even. I have been with its writers, at some cornerstore, or at junkyards, one time or another. Certain days, they might be snuffed but when this corn's spawn handles the gateway, expect a hullabaloo of extraordinary burst of fantastic information. I never thoroughly liked this paper before since the topmost columnist in this island is Conrad de Quiros ( a writer for a rival paper) but as I went along in my quest for the creatively true, I found my eyes looking for Star's blue and yellow logo. I feel safe among its writers. Its Lifestyle and Young Star sections have the best content in terms of breaking the rules of being pioneering. Yes, they are MY children. All of them.
2.) DA-ED magazine = I do not know if I have read its articles. One of its frontcovers was printed in glaring green with the face of a Marilyn-Monroe like woman in black clutches. Try if you can look for a copy of this one. Its presentation blew me at first glance.
3.) Daddies and Mommies = I had often been singled out that I do not seem to warm verily to women presences but I did. I especially like my petite one who had packed a lifeworth of stories in 10 minutes of exchange--from sexual beginnings to politics without having to throttle the obvious down my cranium. She is a very intelligent woman and had raised her kids well. My fathers: what can you say? Part bohemes, comedians, protectors, innovators, shoemakers, howlers and fulltime directors. It is cool that they are hefty and huge and goodlooking and very, very frank. These are not sissies of the underworld. And they cry with me, and that's the most manly thing you can ever achieve in this world of emergencies and Pacquiaos. And they are not loudmouthed dead guys with potbellies filled with humbug. That is for tailenders, I suppose. My Dad played a song for this unsatisfied political hustler: He Can't Get Any Satisfaction. Still looking for life's meaning even at twilight years is a testament to his calm, serene and diplomatic style. I always fight, and I fight for the mistresses who had been whacked by these Pegasus habitues. Oh Lord, give them the gift of comprehension as they watch their kids being cared for in slides by a family not their own. Around his time, while they are pissing off people, a kid is being guided to her/his Christmas gathering, complete with toys and gifts. How to preserve that wonder, that is my case.
4.) Restaurateurs who had given me different tastes of the palate without the loud P.R. blah. I had bought them cheap. Part of the fun is finding their locations. I am always guided by gut names: Joe's or something wind-like in direction shall always land me on the right spots, more often than not. I still have to find my better other's salad, he had been harping about it for ages.
5.) My better other, and the President for giving someone a chance like me to dream and dream big, despite the last sentences of the third item. Number One people need not talk for who else is above them except an immaculate sky?
Go on creating, children of God. Stay away from pools. Mommy will buy wings for you.
I might not be writing daily on this blog since I am following Santa on his sleigh, hence, I play favorites as a way to thank all the people who had formed my own way of thinking in an embracing and expanding way. The way you have treated me shall last a long, long time in my memory of scribbling existence.
TOP LIST OF CHRISTMAS "MADAMDAMING SALAMAT":
1.) The newspaper Philippine Star= In case you have not noticed, most of my favorite people's words reside inside these pages. And in case you have not noticed more, they are giving a new twist to writing that is grand, illuminating, upfront and reading further, overtly original. I have not experienced this kind of editorial hand in my entire life of digesting letters. It is a difficult task, you can see its style being labored for hours inside a dinghy, alternate world of sourcing. It reads like an underground blog, even. I have been with its writers, at some cornerstore, or at junkyards, one time or another. Certain days, they might be snuffed but when this corn's spawn handles the gateway, expect a hullabaloo of extraordinary burst of fantastic information. I never thoroughly liked this paper before since the topmost columnist in this island is Conrad de Quiros ( a writer for a rival paper) but as I went along in my quest for the creatively true, I found my eyes looking for Star's blue and yellow logo. I feel safe among its writers. Its Lifestyle and Young Star sections have the best content in terms of breaking the rules of being pioneering. Yes, they are MY children. All of them.
2.) DA-ED magazine = I do not know if I have read its articles. One of its frontcovers was printed in glaring green with the face of a Marilyn-Monroe like woman in black clutches. Try if you can look for a copy of this one. Its presentation blew me at first glance.
3.) Daddies and Mommies = I had often been singled out that I do not seem to warm verily to women presences but I did. I especially like my petite one who had packed a lifeworth of stories in 10 minutes of exchange--from sexual beginnings to politics without having to throttle the obvious down my cranium. She is a very intelligent woman and had raised her kids well. My fathers: what can you say? Part bohemes, comedians, protectors, innovators, shoemakers, howlers and fulltime directors. It is cool that they are hefty and huge and goodlooking and very, very frank. These are not sissies of the underworld. And they cry with me, and that's the most manly thing you can ever achieve in this world of emergencies and Pacquiaos. And they are not loudmouthed dead guys with potbellies filled with humbug. That is for tailenders, I suppose. My Dad played a song for this unsatisfied political hustler: He Can't Get Any Satisfaction. Still looking for life's meaning even at twilight years is a testament to his calm, serene and diplomatic style. I always fight, and I fight for the mistresses who had been whacked by these Pegasus habitues. Oh Lord, give them the gift of comprehension as they watch their kids being cared for in slides by a family not their own. Around his time, while they are pissing off people, a kid is being guided to her/his Christmas gathering, complete with toys and gifts. How to preserve that wonder, that is my case.
4.) Restaurateurs who had given me different tastes of the palate without the loud P.R. blah. I had bought them cheap. Part of the fun is finding their locations. I am always guided by gut names: Joe's or something wind-like in direction shall always land me on the right spots, more often than not. I still have to find my better other's salad, he had been harping about it for ages.
5.) My better other, and the President for giving someone a chance like me to dream and dream big, despite the last sentences of the third item. Number One people need not talk for who else is above them except an immaculate sky?
Go on creating, children of God. Stay away from pools. Mommy will buy wings for you.