I have not fully recovered from myself censoring myself, yet. But these are good signs, I hope. These three scribblings or doodles or whatever the ejaculation of ink on paper these are. I shall share my first drawing for this year. Yes, the first. And, it is already February. Frustrating, yet relieving that I have "voiced" out something, somehow. Hope the drought ends soon, and works-in-progress and planned projects pull themselves off, after I jumpstart engines and
get them going to the point of driving themselves on their own and each of them having its own life, to the point of losing myself into whatever the fvck such an ecstasy of giving birth to something worth giving birth to makes the mother feel, which I believe is some kind of pleasure and pain combo that makes one yearn for more of such sorta feeling. By the way, some people aborted what I've conceived or rather orphaned them, what I thought I've implanted on the ground I thought fertile. I still wish them well, though. They're the least worst anyway.
Bless me with your curses, dark february stars. Thanks for the accompaniment, poets I've translated, poets I could have offended in the process. Looking forward to the moment we meet. (Pardon the new age pagan bullshit, materialists. I kinda have transcendent trippings, at times, as you may have known.)
p.s. reference ang profit of doom sa pagbigkas ni peter steel, fyi, kbye.