Magazine-ful of Scifi

Clarkesworld Magazine, Issue 121 by Neil Clarke
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I recently found this online magazine with a full roster of scifi when I was looking for a short story that got featured in Netflix's Love, Death and Robots.

This particular issue tackled about the dangers of AI — and how it touches / lives side-by-side with humanity. I've only read two short stories on this issue, and both houses the themes of us people communicating with these artificial intelligence that we use not only to create bots or automation skills, but also as to how they converse to us in creative ways like letters and poetry.

The other work I read, titled Everyone from Themis Sends Letters Home is a cautionary tale of people traversing an otherworldly terrain, with no beginning or end, no protagonist and no drama. And somehow, there's no scientific documentation about their study, only letters. Little do you know that the very same characters you have seen at the beginning are somewhat AI-generated codes that was a big contributor in a grander landscape. Or scheme, if you tell me.

I am not much a very fan of Scifi that circles around on hard science, so forgive me for a messy book review of sorts. But if it helps, I'd rather recommend other issues of the Magazine as you venture into the adventures that are beyond the contemporary fiction and sagas and what have you.

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#HelloMumbai and #EdinTrio Tales

I Take This Train Too by Cyrus Daruwala
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

It was October 2016 when the #EdinTrio embarked on a journey to Mumbai because of a business need to move our operations and cross-train new processes — you know, the usual Corporate-ops-saving-mechanisms. It was also at this year when the most controversial announcement by PM Modi declared that all of the 500 and 1000 Rupees that we hold are deemed worthless, and we only have three banking days to change them in the newly-released 2,000 Rupees so that we can use them in the city. All of my backpacking plans got scratched that day. Taj Mahal, Jaipur... Heck, even Ladakh hike went down the drain. I was stuck in the city, getting overtimes, getting more stressed, unable to get the holiday we really wished to take. The only consolation was us being stuck in JW Marriott hotel in Juhu, where we pray our Corporate cards to all of India's gods and deities, making sure that we were able to settle all of the expenses every 10days.

Since Juhu is known for its long strip of beach with pistons flattening the sand for cricket games and dog strolls, it is also a good walking ground going to Granth Bookstore — a Mumbaikar version of Fully-Booked mothership here in BGC, Taguig. After 30minutes of introspection, you exit the Juhu Gate1 and you shall see the cool aesthetics of the bookshop. This is were I was able to buy this first edition book, hard-bound, with sleeve, for only 575 Rupees.

The book is about the people inside the train — one of their massive transports in the whole Maharashtra state. A train is a microcosm of society, like our Jeepneys, UV Express and buses, and somehow the book identified the demographic of Mumbaikar riders, or in my case, riders from Bandra Station to Churchgate (during my stay). One funny thing when we travelled to town (Colaba, South Bombay for context) is that we didn't know that there is a special section in a compartment for first-class. And even though it has the same poor ventilation, it costed us 10 times the fare. The 10 rupees went to 100, all because I wanted a seat far from the congested section. Good thing that I wasn't carrying a 2000 note, or the train conductor might gave me the deadly stare and take the money away, not knowing when will I receive the change... Or if will I ever receive the change.

The author apologizes for the lesser representation of women in his illustrations. But somehow, that reflects really what was happening in Mumbai at the time of my visit: women have the lesser representation compared to the men. In the office alone, the team where I taught the process has only two women tallying the 13 full-time employee roster. And these two wonderful women are both married. But heck, I am the only one in that floor wearing a Mac Ruby Woo lipstick and code switches to American english.

In the women section of the train I also encountered a fish vendor, and a snack vendor, and they used to sit near the edge of the train while trying to sell their goods. Some of my colleagues who aren't used to the sight felt awkward and icky. I wasn't — I used to ride the Phil Natl Railways home-along-da-riles version in my college years. So somehow, I resonated with the author's experiences in riding the mass public transport.

I only hope that the author included the sketch of Mumbai's Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus as the centerfold. That way, his book will capture the foreigner's allure. I mean, who won't be mesmerized with the Unesco Heritage site? I even crossed the highway to grab an instagram shot of it. What a grandiose piece of architecture, and I immortalized it by writing a short story using my nome-de-plume.

Overall, the book somehow documented my little experience of Bombay and its massive rail. Coupled it with funny illustrations and quirky commentaries and nuances, this is a goodread to cap off this year.

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A Goodread = Good Cry

Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

"Oo, para responsibility mo na kung may mangyari man saken. Hehehe"

"At least one time in your life ma-experience mo maiwan sa ere. Lol"

Seemingly harmless, right?
In the first one, it triggered a bitter memory. The second, triggered a trauma in me. In the same manner these conversations elicited a feeling out of the ordinary, the novel uncovered some when I was reading the first half of it while crying in an empty park in BGC.

I wasn't the eldest (view spoiler)[I was 2nd in the sibling line, but the eldest daughter (hide spoiler)] like Nath, not even a middle child like Lydia. I wasn't a kid who was being ignored, or a kid who followed every parent's order. Perhaps, I saw myself as Hannah, (even though I wasn't the youngest) who listened and observed and took every little detail and commited to memory. I even remembered myself hugging my knees under the table when a quarrel happened.

Reading Celeste Ng's novel uncovered some of these traumas I have had faced in my younger years. It's really a wonder how was I able to clearly emphatize in the unwritten rules, forgetful encounters, and broiling angst and rage happening in a dysfunctional family. This may be an outtake for some of my relatives, but they never realized this: my family's intact on the outside, but really, a broken and dysfunctional within. I don't want to elaborate since Celeste doesn't own my personal plotline, but somehow, reading her prose resurfaced the bitter memories of us siblings growing up.

Now that we are healing on our own, I am grateful that through this novel, a self-awareness has been replenished. And in a way, a helpful tool for me to introspect and how to react on some of the candid conversations that seems to be ordinary, but triggered another lifetime and another story.

Thanks to Lynai for recommending this book. She did me a good deal of dealing with a personal breakdown and addressing grief over a scheduled holiday. Lynai you did give me a goodread and a good cry.

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2022 Sadgurl Phase

All the Lovers in the Night by Mieko Kawakami
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This year has been difficult for me, lots of topsy-turvy.

I was hopeful for our PH elections but it became dismal. And then lots of arrests for the poets and reporters here and there. I do not know them personally, but I cry for them and these turbulent times gave me extreme anxiety due to the growing gap of the injustice in my country.

Coupled this with a delayed promotion, a teammate moving out, and additional 7 months of being burned out because I was so driven to get this post secured.

Then when I looked at my personal life, my relationship with the doctor became a situationship, then a situationshi[t] that I finally had the courage to walk-away on this set-up. Whatever self-respect I have left keeps me afloat these days. I am still healing, so forgive me for being out of touch.

It sounded that I keep on giving explanations to my friends, colleagues and to the random people online. I have never felt tired this much. That's why even my personal escape of reading was being ignored. My mental health is not on its optimal state.

Reading the sad notes of Fuyuko as a proofreader kind of reflected this long months of loneliness and this tendency to play safe. Some might call it selfish, but this is how I coped in my down times. There are weekends that I only sleep and eat; actually, most of the times, I only sleep to drown away the overthinking. Long walks are being advised, but how will you be able to walk safely if you hear news of unnecessary killings in BGC — the relatively safest district in the country? I even considered going back to discord and talk to the gaming community but alas, the courage (or even the thought of reaching out) makes me feel tired.

Reading has been difficult, too.
I was reading 4 books at a time, but I cannot even get myself immersed. I hated the feeling of being too absorbed with the story that I may manifest these plotlines by overthinking. I mean, I read Sally Rooney's Conversations with Friends and the phrase "pathologically pathetic" resonated with me, that I even use that to describe my ex. (view spoiler)[He has his issues, but sometimes, I really cannot help to put this as his best description at the moment, maybe because I am still in the anger phase (hide spoiler)].

I don't want to spoil the readers, but if you are in the mood for a long walk in the winter and mull about the lonely phase (and what have you), this is good for you. There is no love story, only the feeling of detachment, the mundane, and the old age. To give you a clue, Fuyuko is turning 36 in this novel, and she met someone 10+ years her senior. But Mitsutsuka is not his work colleague or someone in her younger years.

I may not be able to finish the reading challenge this year, but let me be grateful for this long holiday that I was able to finish a novella from a Japanese writer.

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Mga Sulating Di Pormal na ang Diaspora ang Sandalan

26 November 2022. Written during the Birthday blues.

Ano nang mangyayari saken? Gusto ko na lang matapos talaga ang taon na ito andami ko nang ka-bitter-an sa mundo. Gusto kong maghilom, alam mo yun? Pero ewan ko ba ang sakit pa rin. Hays. 

Ayoko nga magkwento kasi nagiging trauma-dumping. 

May issue sila-sila. May issue ka rin. 

Pati ikaw na walang malay, dinadamay ko. Siguro andun kasi yung kumpyansang wala naman tayong naging kuneksyon noon, o walang naging talastasan noon, kaya hindi ka nakasubaybay sa mga ganap ko. Unlike yung ibang andaming nagtatanong kung okay ba ako... Natural hindi ako okay. Sino bang okay sa relationship loneliness kineso na ito? Na yung mismong "relationship loneliness" eh ang hirap nang gawing diskurso. Sa tingin mo ba masisipat yun nang walang bias? Natural, meron. Madalas, ako pa ang sisisihin. Naiisip ko pa lang sasabihin ko, napapagod na ako. Por que maingay ako, super clingy. 

Mahirap bang sabihin na nag-walk-away ako out of the little self-respect that I have?

I can be that lowest self-maintenance one can be. Naging kabit nga akong ewan eh. Hays. Naiiyak na naman ako, sorry tinatapunan kita ng stress. Hindi naman dapat. Siguro kelangan ko lang sabihin (o isulat lahat ng ito) para lang ma-process ko ulit. Baka naman next month, ok na ako. Ready to fight na ulit.

Ngayon kasi, nakikita ko pa sya sa diwa ko eh. Nakakapagod na rin mag-overthink. #

Too Burgis to Function in Bugis Junction

6PM Activities

You and your vanity, rousing the interest to take a snapshot of one's life, summoning the motivation to get the grint done and sifting through the paperless paperworks. Such is the glimpse of a millenial mundane. 

There are days that you would be required to stand, or take few steps. Breathe in pregnant pauses, and mull over the hyperinflating prices of real estate, grocery errands, and electric bills — especially now that you have real and personal properties greater than your liquidity for the month. 

But then these little ducks in a row is what you makes yourself motivated. So rather than taking the BRT home, you decide to dedicate at least half an hour to get these deliverables, well, delivered.

Mga Sulating Di Pormal na ang Diaspora muna ang Nakakaalam

2022 flew like a haze. When we met last April, everything seemed confusing. In the middle of a passionate movement, our passion for each other dwindled down. He recently passed the Internal Medicine licensure exam and decided to specialize in Neurology. But after two months of having a 36-hour duty in East Ave Medical center, he changed.

It triggered his depression. He hears his thoughts too loud, found himself hard to sleep, let alone rest. A voice saying that he should give up on life. "Buti na lang hindi ako humantong sa self-harm" 

He said he's guilty of our situation not progressing much since the start of Pandemic. He's worried that he is not attaining the "provider status" he longed in his younger years.

Then nag-disappear for two months. He resurfaced after me non-stop bugging him, having anxieties of our future together and the what-ifs, lalo na nang masabi ko na gusto kong sumubok ng OFW experience. Diaspora trope, just like the 70s. 

"Do what makes you happy. If you want, you can even meet men; just let me know. Even though it hurts."

Ansakit pa rin, grabe. Ngayong taon, mas marami ang pagkakataon ng pangungulila at yung pakiramdam na wala kang kinakapitan. Walang angkla. Walang kasiguruhan. Kumakapit ka sa pag-asa na baka magsimula siya na umahon sa lugmok ng depresyon, at makita nya na may liwanag sa kabilang dulo. Kahit hindi ako yung dulo. Tanggap ko naman na hindi ako priority. 

Pero habang tumatagal, nasasanay ako sa pag-iisa at nabanggit ko ang inggit sa ibang mga mag-boyfriend na nakakapag-celebrate sila ng anniversary nila.

In our three years, we never had any celebration of sorts. Walang marka ng milestone. Parang walang direksyon. He even blocked me on social media before sa tindi ng selos. Tinanggap ko pa rin yun, kasi malaki ang trust issue niya. 

Pero yung katotohanang parang hindi ako nakikita sa side nya, masakit. Mahirap maging invisible. Mahirap tanggapin na kapag namatay siya, hindi ako makaka-attend ng burol o ng libing niya, kasi walang nakakakilala sa akin — sa side niya. Kung anong kwento ko sa pamilya ko ng aking kasintahan, kabaligtaran ang sa kanya.

Parang akong kabit na ewan. Pero tanggap ko yun, andami ba naman niyang pinagdaanan. Nirespeto ko yung decision niya.

Naiiyak pa rin ako, sorry. Ang sakit ng feeling na ghosted ako. Kaya nung sinulat ko yung break-up letter, sinubukan kong i-send sa email. Kasi hindi niya binabasa yung Line app — yung tanging gamit namin sa pagke-kwentuhan. 

Kaya nang sumagot siya... Hindi ko masikmura. Tinanggap lang niya, hindi man lang ako inilaban. Nakakainis na nakakalungkot kasi pakiramdam ko hindi ako karapat-dapat. I was shaken and affected that even little snide remarks of officemates that I used to ignore, eh nagko-cause ng unhealthy anxiety. Nilubog ko ang sarili ko sa work, pumapalo ng 13hours ang stay ko sa opisina na hindi naman dapat.

Dapat medyo magaan na ang lahat, kasi nagkakaroon ulit ng reset. Na-solidify ang timeline sa sarili. Pero kapag nakikita ko yung mga sinulat ko tungkol sa amin, napapa-ugly cry na lang ako.

Ang masaklap, parang ini-invalidate ng mga magulang ko yung pinagdadaanan ko. "Jowa-jowaan". Ganun. Parang laro. Kasi walang accountability. Hindi ko ba talaga deserve ang makatarungan at mapagpalayang pag-ibig? Breadwinner na lang ba ako forever? Ang bigat pa rin, kahit pinipilit kong i-compartmentalize bawat araw. Ni sa sariling kama sa family home, hindi ko pinapakita yung pag-iyak ko. 

Feeling ko invisible pa rin ako.

Mga Sulating Di Pormal na ang Diaspora lang ang nakakabasa

Ah doctor ba sya? We have this notion na He should know how to overcome depression...

Ngayon ko lang nabalikan ito. Sorry, swamped with work and with compartmentalizing crises in my life. I mean, asa sadgurl phase ako recently that I long for connections in the office. And yet, apektado ako sa mga napupuna nila sa akin na bibo ako and hyper sometimes, especially when overjoyed.

35 na ako pero grabe yung apektado ako ng narinig kong comment from my immediate manager. Tas naisip ko, mahirap ngang makakuha ng authentic friendship sa corporate environment because of competition (na sometimes, hindi healthy).

And honestly hindi ko alam if he can overcome that depression even though he gets medicated. Hay. I just don't know anymore. Baka i-break ko, baka hindi. 

Alam mo yung feeling mo na nasa limbo ka, or nasa crossroads ka pero nakatambay ka lang ng mga tatlong buwan, hindi mo alam saan liliko. I just wanted the waiting to end and let my time start moving.

Sorry, trauma dumping. I shouldn't do this to you. Baka itsismis mo pa ako tapos ma-bash pa sa mga tao hahaha

Although, thanks for hearing me out (or reading this, I guess?) Nakakagaan rin ang isulat ang mga naiisip ko at the moment para mawala ang bigat na nararamdaman ko. Also, it is helpful to share some things with a total stranger. May ibang insight na mapupulot. Or even a presence is enough. Na somehow, visible ako. 

So yeah. Maybe from time to time I might write things here, so heads up na rin sa iyo. Haha

I'll stop waiting for you.

Because bb, it doesn't make sense to me anymore. 

In our three years of this romantic interlude, I never felt more lonely since you went away, and not telling on when you will come home. 

You are amazing. I wish you knew that. You made me feel like a woman in our humble beginnings. Pero ngayon na gumagalaw ang oras natin at hindi kita nararamdaman, lalo lang ako nalulungkot, at nari-realize na hindi ko kayang panindigan ang paghihintay. 

I am breaking up with you, K—. Hindi nga yata ito ang tamang pagkakataon para sa atin. Ang daming komplikasyon, ang daming drama. Ang hiling ko lang naman noon ay isang partner na makakasama ko sa mga maliliit na bagay tulad ng pamamalengke at pagluluto. Pero kahit ang simpleng gawaing-bahay na pangarap ay hindi natin maisakatuparan. 

Gusto ko na makalaya sa ganitong kalungkutan. At ngayong unti-unti na akong natututong muli sa pag-iisa, hindi ko na yata kakayanin ang muli mong paglitaw at pagsasabi ng mga pangarap na pilit tinatanaw. 

Let me know if you have something of mine in your possession and I can request a courier / grab delivery to get it sorted. As far as I am concerned, wala ka namang naiwang gamit dito sa bahay, or sa aking mga lalagyan. 

I pray for you, and I wish you happiness and healing. Hope you can wish for mine, too. 

Respectfully yours, 

E—

So Insular and yet, Isolated

Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Ang ganda!!!

You cannot categorize this book easily. If you own a bookstore, you wouldn't place it near John Grisham, or Nicholas Sparks; not even to the hype of Milan Kundera or Henry Miller. Delia Owens' first novel will be easily slated into the "Bestseller list" though because the hype is real. It is a mosh pit of multiple literary genre. This isn't just a mystery, or a courtroom drama, or a coming-of-age, or romance, but it all a combination of those — with a backdrop of wildlife narrative like of National Geographic's.

If one has to write about isolation, this is a perfect reference and inspiration. Details of the daily life and coping with loneliness, and how poetry is not about mere words and ambiguous meanings, but also how it connects the writer to someone. After all, people long for connections.
I do wish I have the courage to go and explore the great outdoors, but I am not that introverted kasi. I was one of those people who would go mad if not being talked to (or talked with) for at least three days. Hahahaha

This book made me feel appreciative of our nature and its bottomless resources. You can really survive in the wild if you know how to adapt. Highly recommended book, especially if you are a student wanting to write a comprehensive book report. There are literary tropes here and there like PTSD of war, alcoholism, republican psyche and some racism because of its old time period. But I couldn't put it down because the sensibilities of Kya and Tate and Jodie are so vivid, it tugs my heartstrings when a drama scene ensued in a chapter.

I am looking forward for the movie version of this novel.

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