Thursday, June 11, 2015

Zero-love game

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If only I could go to work in sweats, plain tees, and sneaks, I would. What seems like the warmest past few months in Manila could be unforgiving to anything thicker or more layered.


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My short walks from the gym to the office have produced bucketloads of sweat – as if I ran the stretch.


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I couldn’t really complain. Calamities (earthquakes and volcanic eruptions) are much worse.


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Nothing to do but adapt. Even during what’s supposed to be the onset of the rainy season, nothing seems more practical than short-sleeved shirts and everything in cotton. (What I would do to be able to wear shorts!)


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How do you like my Hardware version of tennis bracelets?


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The last thing I should do though is to let myself be slowed down by the heat.


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Hide in the shade like a cold-blooded reptile.


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Have to stay hydrated!


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The game is long, with innumerable breaks and sets.


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Not to mention rest and repair pitstops.


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No sense in getting myself sick because I’ve overestimated my pace.


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Oh, yes, this is the point where I ramble and rant about how little time I have left in the court.



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How long I’ve watched from the bleachers. 
In the pic: Enkil Sarcophagus Bracelet.


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Counting the home runs that cast momentary shadows.


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I should shut up now and just continue working.


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Though of course I’ve edited all these pics and I must go on rambling (ha!).


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Truth be told, I’ve never played tennis in my life. (I know more about economics than the sport.)


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No matter how much I like tennis bracelets. (This set of three named after Anne Rice’s vampires, because, well, they remind me of sarcophagi.)

In the pic: Louis Sarcophagus Bracelet.

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And sometimes get absorbed watching games.


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But I’m too old to be competitive.


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Even envious and self-pitying.
In the pic: Lestat Sarcophagus Bracelet.


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Have to keep my eyes on my own horizon.


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Sleep more often.


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Dream of entanglements.


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Forgive debts, forget grievances.


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Keep my tongue in check.


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But also keep bridges blackened and burnt down to ashes.


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Let me sound like a serpent hissing in the grass.


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You only see the leaves rustling, not hear my song.


Tee, Uniqlo
Sweat pants, thrifted
Leather sneakers, Fred Perry
Hardware bracelets, Bosquejo


Photos by Jullian Mendoza


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