I didn't know I was making a zine when I first completed the first draft of my first entry in this industry.
Two or three months ago, I was in this state of disarray. Almost everything was black again. It was dark. I have eyes but couldn’t see. Everyone was saying they are going to be there when it rains, that they’re going to offer shelter when there’s a storm, but they just reminded me again why most people I’ve met so far are a bunch of great liars, whether consciously or not.
The house they promised is built on lies.
The clock was ticking and I was this fire relying on a candle wax and oxygen. I was melting not in a good way. I know there was this gas I need around me but knowing isn't enough when it’s dark.
Somewhere in this field painted in all black, I ended up finding myself writing. Because I bring pen and paper almost everywhere. Those times, thanks God, I didn’t forget.
Writing on times when it is too much is always so easy. I ended up creating poems, quotes, short stories, essay, even drawings. And when opportunity came for a fair where I can actually market these things I wrote, I asked myself why not? I’ve never done that before. And what to lose when you got nothing in the first place? When every single thing is temporary they'll all fade anyway?
So I went. That's my first zine fair (you may check my other blog post about Komura black & white zine fair, sorry for the ad but can’t help it 😂 ).
You can’t really conclude without comparison, I guess. Because in my case, the second zine fair I went to is GREAT. Great is one of my favorite words. If I call you great, that means you're a freaking legend. Big deal? Yes. Very.
The location was remote I was worried if there will be enough visitors, especially those who'll find my work interesting and relatable. But life proved me wrong. The crowd we had, a large crowd at that, was varied enough that there I met these very memorable existence. There I read stories from walking books in the form of humans. There I met you. There I was reminded of my purpose in this journey. There I knew I was living for those moments.
Reminders vol. 2 sold out. I made 10 copies. Brought 9 to the event because 1 is reserved for Zine Orgy this November. Never expect people would like that medium. One of them called it an “envelope zine,” which I think is a suitable name for it compiles a short story, poem, essay, letter, and a sticker encase in a red envelope. It made me learn how presentation can influence contents which of course I’ll make use for my future outputs. I had 4 works on the market that time and I was able to sell copies for each of them.
I made someone cry. Not because I’m a bully or something similar but because he said that is the first time in a long time someone reminded him why he should pursue his dreams in the field of writing. He was wearing glasses, so when he took it off to wipe tears, I don’t know exactly how I felt. I felt accomplished probably. That's one of the purpose. To inspire someone like me and make him believe again that HE CAN. No amount of money can buy that moment. Words are even lost to me to completely describe how I felt. All I know is it was magic.
There I met the sister of my soul. I heard her accent and I knew she was from Australia. Before that event, she didn’t have any idea what a zine is. She just stumbled at Intramuros, saw something interesting happening on the upper floor and went with the flow. She complimented my spoken English (I still can’t believe she did because I'm terrible at conversation), bought a lot of my stuff with a generous tip (first tip ever!), and though that is her first time in my world, she understands, SHE KNEW. We stay connected and I plan to be her little sister “from another mister” (her words) for a long time.
I also met this girl who was looking for an inspiration to write something. She was also very interested in writing her own piece and attending zine events as vendor in the future. She was so sweet and sincere and I want to help her. I would very much love to be a guide to someone because taking the path I chose, alone and risky, is a cold road and definitely not for everyone.
Finally, I met my long-time Wattpad reader. She was my reader since 2014 or 2015. I thought she was from metro manila, so when she said they came from Pampanga just to see me…I wanted to cry on the spot. I was nervous at first, online could be different from the real one. But we talked, she bought all of my works out of money she saved for that event. She also gave me this bracelet she treasures a lot. Passing one of your most treasured items to someone? That's a feat I’ll only do if I equally treasure them both! We talked about our demons and how faith and literature help us save ourselves.
My big sister and this special reader, both of them gifted me bracelets. Bracelets I will treasure forever. (PS: I just panicked yesterday when I left one at the CR.)
There are these that remain and I wouldn’t be able to write everything but it doesn’t mean they are less important. Some, I would like to keep a secret 😉 Some, I trust to remain in my sub-conscious and unconscious 😂 I’m very thankful and blessed I met all of those people, felt all of those emotions, at AFK Print & Zine Fair.
And by buying my zines and print, by talking with me, I hope you all find something which can help you save yourself.
"Because that's what we do...
Self-redirection...
Self-healing."
- where it is always winter, vol. 1
