Residual Politics…


They deemed you worthy of support and had everyone voting your way. Did you find this simple illusion of power enough to make you stick around? I am not even talking about the mere presidency…

Common sense and seduction are two aspects of politics which will meet you heads-on at anytime and at any given moment. Where are you going these days? Have you found yourself longing for something as immature as an answer, a simple yes or no from the boy/girl of your dreams?

(Somehow the song seems to remain the same: If You Have to Ask by Red Hot Chili Peppers.)

Three scenarios:

First, I received a text from a good friend whose vote has gone awry. Neglected by the present administration, there is nowhere else to go but to face the music, make new grooves, and even compose new songs. Did we waste time in knowing that we simply supported what was possible and go for the choice that we know will win? Maybe the choice then was to simply support a losing battle, just to invest in change. But who knows? I am no politician, my politics is in seduction – a matter of light and darkness in the shadow world.

Residual politics is in the height of indecision, it is when you are too busy living Life that politics happen.

Second, coherent light has been given its time under the sun – a physicist friend discovers the amalgamation of mysteries hidden in the shadows. How light was ever incoherent is a discourse against waves and particles, against light and darkness. Whatever gravity does not take from you, life will sooner than later find focused and burning against your chest. Coherence is simply birds of a feather flocking together.

Residual politics finds its second tenet stuck amidst the ingraining

shadows of light and darkness, your coherence still affixed on your perception of time.

Third, a short relay of words becomes apparent between messaging applications. She is stuck in a red room with a strange counter window connecting to a kitchen. They cook stories, they let life simmer, but nothing happens when you are stuck thinking of what is not. Without him, you are momentarily paralyzed, forgetting how to become a soul, a spirit flowing between challenges and realizations. It does not matter if you had to flow between sheets and live between beds, you are your own self, aren’t you?

Residual politics finds its Truth in what has been done and what has been left behind – it does not take forever.

I will share the illusions of today, of how relative time seems to be for those of us wishing some semblance of immortality. Immortality in acts, in speech, in dreams? The only truth that we find in living life will be in the politics happening and existing in personal spaces – a space that you and I will gather our Truths, a satsang (do check-out what it means) of sorts. While another friend waits for a Batanes sunset, we in the Metro find ourselves in-heat, reminding me of an old piece written during my dalliance with the university:


steps out of my grasp
into the floor, into the touch
of a Metro in-heat
that refuses to stop
even for, my Manila


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