Unexpectedly Inevitable

We go to places with a goal in mind. Expectations all set. Finite. 

Predictable. 

In our heads at least.

I went to this event thinking I'll only be fulfilled if I sold copies. Most fulfilled if I sold out everything.

But my sales today, ever since I started on this industry of marketing my works, is ZERO. 

But here I am right now, writing this entry, stomach full at Bonchon somewhere in BGC...

Happy, content, accomplish, thankful, BLESS.

Because I won a big raffle prize. Explored a new interesting community. Bought a book which could be a great literary piece from a publishing company I now highly look up to. 

And met a new friend.

My dilemma of zero sales today has been eradicated because of her (she knows why hahaha). 

We just clicked like a slipper who found a pair. (PS: I don't know why I used slipper of all symbolism HAHAHAHA maybe we have great adventures together in the future?) 

I have a resting bitch face but she saw beyond this facade. We discovered we both came from UPLB and felt the vibes strongly from someone molded by UP. She works for a publishing company, provided sound advice, offered help for my future plans to publish paperback with them, was my companion almost throughout the afternoon.

She's this girl with a melodic voice, smart, kind, talented. She's a boost to the writer in me because of her sincere support. Of her wide vision. Because although our situations are completely different, when I showed her my works, SHE.RESONATES.WITH.THEM.

She can see a herself in a way different from the way I see mine when I wrote those compositions.

This is the power of literature. It's magic. The magic to connect people no matter where they come from. Regardless of their conditions in life.

UPLB is hell at the same time it is heaven. This campus triggered my worst nightmares but also helped carve the real me so I can start dreaming again. 

She said it is as if we are long time friends.

I agree.

Told her maybe in another life. I could have met her earlier in that life.

We are friends now anyway.

She is an explanation to the world of memoir. That she writes memoir because of fleeting memories. Because forgetting can be scary. Forgetting can be one of the worst things that could happen especially to a memory of something or someone precious to you. 

In this way, we are of the same tribe. I also don't wish to forget that's why I write. 

This publishing company, Central Books, was also so kind to give freebies even before I buy something from them. I bought this one particular poetry book later on called Breakaways for I have this feeling I will love this after I browsed some pages. 

I don't want to forget this feeling. I don't particularly want to forget these moments I spent with my new friend. 

We expected something else. We found something different. But the ending is all the same when you're doing something you love. Risking because it is worth it.

Those moments compiled in hours is another village in the map of my journey. 

Unfamiliar. New. Shrouded in mystery.

But I went anyway, passed the gate of another unknown, and although what I feared have actually turned into reality, it failed to scare me. It failed to bring me down. It failed to become a fear.

Because I just didn't know back then that I am supposed to stumble on something that is different from my expectations. 

And despite of this difference, it didn't change the prize I was always meant to claim at the end of the day...

Blessings.

And in all of the many blessings I received throughout this day, that which stands out the most out of them all is this blessing in the form of a true friend. 

May we have more memories together, Elaine. Though memories are fleeting, because we write, we own the power of words.

We can make anything, anyone, immortal.

We live to write, share, and inspire (AFK Print and Zine Fair Diary Records)

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

Dedication

I don't allow happiness to last.

It fades so easily just like these people I treasured who disappear eventually. 

Happiness is the price of risking. Doing a great job. The price of accomplishment. Sunrise. One of the results of love.

But it rarely provides lessons. 

I can count it in my hands, those times happiness actually made me learn something. Right now, it made me think if I ever write something all because I'm happy.

Maybe I did but I can't remember. It is pain that always marks. 

A name keeps on hunting me wherever I go. The wounds this name left won't just heal. I'm sick of seeing this name even on my most favorite places or on sacred realms like my dreams. 

It then turned into hatred. Hatred that snaps out this fire of peace. Hatred that fuels creativity. 

On times I'm not happy, there are cases I chose not to be. Because that is the condition where everything is in entropy. Entropy leads to chaos inside me. This chaos makes it easier to understand the different forms of chaos around. And chaos is everywhere, especially in the hearts of humans. 

I need the state of disorder. I need chaos. 

Chaos then is the ember of my creative fire. It is the means to write, and by partnering words, I am creating a temporary order. An order that aligns the thought in my mind and others who are like me.

And once there's complete acceptance, once I can now finally see, that's where it all settles down. 

I'm finally calm again.

Not because I'm done.

I'm just preparing for the next wave of disruption. 

("Where it is always winter," vol. 1)

 

The People I Met At Komura Zine Fair

I went as a writer/vendor selling the first volume of my poetry zine. And this is an appreciation post to everything that had transpired...

 

Really funny that we kinda wrapped the table with blue and green cartolina instead of just bringing one of my scarves to serve as table cloth. Why Emina. Why?! But it came out nicely I guess. We turned it into a winter table.

On the vendor's briefing, my clumsiness took over. There was a socket blocking the way and I almost trip because of it. I did manage to find my balance but was not able to survive the next attack by a wire. I really fell over this time. A nearby guy got alarmed and he was about to catch me but the bouncy sofa caught my fall first. HAHAHAHA TF!

There's this reader who bought items from all vendors and of course he bought mine too. If I got a lot of money, I could probably be like him. He is my first buyer and I didn't have change for the 1k he had. I just told him to pay later once he got smaller bills. He was passing when he almost tripped because of my chair and was sorta reminded of the credit he had with me. Lol. People who got involved with me were stumbling all over the place. 

My attempts at photography caught attention. Aside from my zine, I also displayed separate prints of the pictures featured inside. My seatmate and new photographer/interior designer friend, asked if she could have one of them later. It then gave me the idea to just give away those prints once the event is about to finish for free. From then on, there were buyers who reserved these pictures. One of them is a fellow vendor who really looked like someone I ended up knowing. Their resemblance is shocking and if she turned out to be the same person, FATE IS MAKING ONE OF THE GREATEST COSMIC JOKE EVERRR! 

There's a doctor who bought my poetry zine. My course is Biology. Almost everyone keeps on complaining why I didn't become a doctor. That's why by meeting this reader it made me think that on another lifetime where I studied medicine, it's good to know I could be like her. Someone in the field of science and yet could find time to be in love with literature. Drama kept aside, I ended up having a check up with her about my persisting cough. Check up with a doctor in a zine fair? Who would have thought? Conclusion is I need to go back to a nearby doctor to have another check up as advised by this doctor I met at the event. 

A foreigner guy bought my poetry zine! He just left a mark because he made me glad that with the line of work I have right now, speaking in English is no longer an extremely awkward experience. I was explaining the themes of my zine when I mentioned, "This first volume is dark but would be lighter as it goes on.." he replied by saying,

"Life gets better, huh?"

Life is better when you do things you love indeed.

I also roamed searching for zines I'll be buying when I met great fellow vendors. It made me realized every artists (vendor or visitors) in there had one purpose,

We are looking for souls who have the same passion, and with this similarity we shared, we can inspire and help each other.

Others might call this science, but for me, it's both science and magic...that moment of crossing-paths with people you are meant to meet all this time because you are fated to influence each other lives for the better. Always for the better though the means are sometimes bitter.

There are most likely other readers who bought my zine but I was not able to mention, but if they are reading this, know that I'm also sincerely grateful to you. This comes with the hope that all of you would find the help and boost you need by reading my work to survive and live your life.

I'll close this by mentioning three people. Somewhere at the center, I saw someone reading my work. This made me anxious. So anxious that I got the urge to move around to make my anxiety disappear. 

But this person approached my booth. My booth on the sideline. She wanted to buy a copy and my signature on it. She said smiling,

"I really like your work. I find it very relatable."

Unexpectedly.

Real.

Raw. 

The story of my life, after all, have the best author, God. 

Memories might make me forget but by writing all of these down, by publishing my works online or through physical copies...

Words will always make me remember.

Lastly but definitely not the least, to my closest friends who have came over, my first fair as a writer wouldn't be this great without you guys. Pat and Alyssa, may we continue rattling the stars. I'll try my best to be the friend you need when it is your turn. 

Where It Is Always Winter - The Story Behind

Why a Zine?

Zines are easier and cheaper to produce. They are shorter than paperbacks. For people like me who don't have patience for editing and layouting long manuscripts, zines are perfect. You'll also have the freedom to turn a zine into whatever concept you want. Poetry? Comics? Essays? Combination? All are allowed. Zines do not have rules in general. The main purpose is to spread information using affordable and accessible methods. It's freedom in publishing. Freedom in expression. 

Why Poetry?

My zine got some essays on it but mostly poetry. For me, a poem is where a writer can express herself with complete freedom. Grammar, style, punctuation...nothing controls and limit poetry. It's artistic license in one of its most powerful state. You can hide secrets with words. Can be flowery but at the same time dark. No rules, no standards. As long as you'll have readers who will gain something out of your poems, goal is achieve.

Why the title?

I'm never good at summarizing. For novels, I rarely plot events. When I write, the words are just there, waiting to be transcribed. No need to think and plan ahead. I shall try my best to summarize this by saying this is a zine for those who've felt lost, brokenness, temptation, and the searing coldness of being the only one who was left behind.

Inspired by Spring Day by BTS,

title was formed. Where It Is Always Winter showcase how brokenness, lost, fear, hatred, anger, sadness are necessary to learn how to survive and then eventually live this one chance to a life we all have. Negative as they are, they are feelings, emotions, that can also bring up positive ones. Hope, independence, love to oneself, promises, loyalty, passion in my case work hand in hand with the aforementioned negative ones.

Like darkness and light, they are unable to exist without the other.

My main purpose of publishing a zine isn't for income generation. I have no plans to turn writing as a main source of income. Writing is something I love. An outlet when things get too much. I published for the first time to inspire and help people like me.

People who are in love with the rain but saddened by the fact that rain can be cruel to others.

People who were broken not once but multiple times, and yet, still functional because they could clearly understand why survival is different from living. Consciously or not, we are saving ourselves.

People with too much anger and hatred on their hearts, and yet, they are epitome of kindness and love. 

This is your life. 

If breathing is hard, learn how to survive first. 

On days where you're just waking up each day to survive, life won't be easy. After all, you're just hanging, barely. But the important thing is you haven't given up. This is survival. 

Living your life is a different matter.

It took a long time for me to collect my scattered pieces, but once I did, I craved for more. I craved for freedom and magic to return. Slowly, they did. Still ain't complete to this day but I'm getting there while learning more truths, some harsh, others gentle, about this world.

Life taught me you don't need to be at the center to live. You can be like me, living on the sidelines. 

The silent assassin masking herself as a harmless commoner. 

A camouflaged being waiting to fool its prey into a trap. 

A girl writing mostly fictional stories. Words forming worlds, events, characters which ain't real but the way these fictional realms can make us feel...

When you cried ugly while (and after) Iron Man is dying..

When you laughed when Chihiro slides down the stairs running...

When you have mixed-emotions when Celaena Sardothien finally went back to her kingdom, her home. A kingdom whose trust is gained by blood, passion, and sacrifice...

These emotions ARE REAL.

And where did they come from? What triggered these feelings?

Fiction. Imagination.

Magic.

This is the reality in fiction, my friend. My most effective cure against hopelessness. Against insanity.

I am where it is always winter. I don't know where you are but wherever we might be, we can save ourselves. Heal these broken parts.

Most of all,

We can wear the scars and still live our lives despite of the permanent wounds.

All we need is to BELIEVE.

Hope to see you on Komura this September 21...friend, stranger, curious folk. If you think you'll like my zine, then buy a copy :) 

Fashion: Before & Now

Before...

I didn't get it. Why would the clothes you wear matter? As long as your body is fully covered, why would it matter if it is on trend or branded? There were other bigger problems in life, acads for example. And I didn't have time (nor money) to go to shopping for clothes. 

Now...

So this is why. It matter but the reason should be for you, not for other people. You wear this attire for it reflects who you are. And showing it to the world, bravely and unashamed, gives fulfillment. You don't give a shit if they will like it or not. This is you and you aren't everyone's cup of tea, remember that. Fashion becomes a way to filter these people you let inside your small trusted circle.

Fashion doesn't need to be expensive and branded. Most unique items are in the thrift shops and that awkward moment when you saw someone wearing an exact same style of H&M piece you've brought 'coz it's so trendy these days? GUUUUUURRRRLLL, that will rarely happen if your clothes are from ukays! Ukay is eco-friendly, cheap, and available almost everywhere in the Philippines (here's to the hope you got a good ukay store nearby). It is the best solution to express yourself using fashion without bankrupting your purse!

Wearing great, comfortable clothes may save your life. Save your life from stress, heartbreaks, peanut-brains and many other negativities. 

This is why if you're looking for a new hobby and you aren't yet in to fashion, do try! Go to the nearby ukay. Buy pieces that caught your eyes.

It's all about the hunt. 

And that time you find a single great piece or two for such a very affordable price? You won't be able to stop craving for that sensation again. 

The next thing you'll know, the next weekend, you're off to search for new ukay finds! 

Below are some ukay finds I partnered with each other. My wardrobe right now is over-flowing with clothes.

Ukay Ukay / Thrifting

It all started with Billie Eilish. I wanted oversize polo. But the ones on malls are so expensive! So I ended up browsing the ukay-ukays at Makati Cinema Square.

And the rest?

They're history. 

Which lead to this...

Reasons why I recommend ukay ukay:

1. Cheap

- as low as 5 php, you'll have a new addition to your wardrobe collection.

2. Eco-friendly

- plants wherein raw materials come from shall live longer lives. If we don't demand for new clothes, then suppliers will have second thoughts on producing same stuff.

3. Self-therapy

- work or any aspects of life we face everyday can be stressful. Wearing my fashion statement helps a lot in relieving stress. 

"I'm stress because of work but at least I'm wearing great clothes.." is my #1 mantra right now.

4. An adventure of a lifetime

- digging through hangers of used clothes takes patience and disinfection afterwards, but those moments you found great finds? Voila! You'll feel like finding gold in a sea of sand ;) 

5. Stories 

- each time I browse thrifted items, I wonder about their past. Who were their owners? Are they already dead? What kind of adventures happened with these stuff? How did they survive time? What could be these new stories they would make once they found new homes with new owners? 

Spend some time asking yourself these kind of questions, especially on those days you feel so lost. 

Thanks for reading!

Expect more ukay-ukay post! 

Thrifted boots: 150 php