ArtLit, Blog

basket of angry and mute kittens

silence speaks nothing --

To be consumed by words until they come stumbling out, 
arranged and resonant, 
unwilling to bow to the closure of strict lips. What is that? Where is it-- 
I've written copies, and rallies, and letters YET none of the words 
that reside in me have my heart, and I'm---


I've never known fear like 
the fear that I have of the words inside me. I don't know what they look like. 
Amorphous, greedy, vicious things
I fear that if I write, if I speak, if in another sentence I play out a new stanza, 
If I dare
I fear the truth will come out. WHAT DO I LOOK LIKE HONEST good lord

I fear the truth of --loneliness?-- frustration, listlessness. A cacophony of longing 
that has no name and no purpose; I can feel everything raging under my skin 
like a quiet storm, a knot in a maze in a forest
woosh woosh woosh 
Outside the wild listlessness 
fades into a practiced nonchalance. Words can't unravel if the words 
are too honest, and all my letters are honest. I keep them in.

Through a mirror: I am indifferent, and silent, and sleepy. whispers

I fear that the who that I built outside will be consumed by the monsters 
that are growing in the peripheries! 
shades drawn, battle lines marked 
fighting myself by burning the war
suffocate drown and asphyxiate my self

Another lie, another half-truth. statement
I fear what I have in me; I fear that there is nothing in me at all. 

What if I can't write or paint or speak because there are 
no monsters in the deep?
No colors in the wind, no female mysteries, no hysteric soliloquies 
A new model! An automaton of motions, everything but nothing at the same time
Outrageous for the price of fun:
number not available!!!

Motions upon motions
Unfeigned confusion
"           "
relaxation, elevation, escalation

In what scenario will I start to write the entries that define my meaning:
Denial death dusk depressed
by myself

Shut up! Stop! Speaking! BE SILENT be silent be silent be silent 
until the silence starts screaming
without me


This isn’t a cry for help. It’s a………………n exercise in trying to write again OTL. And I wrote this earlier while eating in Market Basket! Good shrimp and good salmon!

In other news, my sister’s in Korea (and I gave her a cool list of things to buy for me). I’m still here, not studying for my GIN exam on Tuesday. :o

I want to write about so many other things: how much I’m following Miss Universe, how I loved our graded physical examination earlier this week, how I’ve got secrets piled upon secrets. Some other time.



ArtLit, Blog

if i should drown;

if i should drown;
quotes for the many days

if helplessly in love:

L’amour est la poésie des sens.

I will do as devils do. Fall.
-H.S. Leoch

I’m sorry about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine.
-Richard Siken, Little Beast

You happened to me. You were as deep down as I’ve ever been. You were inside me like my pulse.
—Marilyn Hacker, Nearly a Valediction

I love you. If you hadn’t existed I would have had to invent you.
–Elaine Dundy, The Dud Avocado

And I’d choose you; in a hundred different lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.
—Kiersten White

They amputated your thighs off my hips. As far as I’m concerned they are all surgeons. All of them. They dismantled us each from the other. As far as I’m concerned they are all engineers. All of them. A pity. We were such a good and loving invention. An airplane made from a man and wife. Wings and everything. We hovered a little above the earth. We even flew a little.
-Yehuda Amichai, A Pity. We Were Such a Good Invention.

if in the throes of longing:

Le seul vrai langage au monde est un baiser.

When I haven’t been kissed in a long time, I create civil disturbances, then insult the cops who show up, till one of them grabs me by the collar and hurls me up against the squad car, so I can remember, at least for a moment, what it’s like to be touched.
—Jeffrey McDaniel, When a Man Hasn’t Been Kissed

Tattoo my lips with permanent kisses.
-Michael Faudet

if in contemplation of the past:

I may think of you softly from time to time. But I’ll cut off my hand before I ever reach for you again.
-Arthur Miller, The Crucible

You fell in love with my flowers but not with my roots, so when Autumn arrived you didn’t know what to do.

I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
-W.H. Auden, Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone

if in trouble with oneself:

You don’t pass or fail at being a person, dear.
-Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane

Everything interests me, but nothing holds me.
-Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

I’m not sure which is worse: intense feeling, or the absence of it.
-Margaret Atwood

I spent my life learning to feel less.
-Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

At times I suffer from the strangest sense of detachment from myself and the world about me; I seem to watch it all from the outside, from somewhere inconceivably remote, out of time, out of space, out of the stress and tragedy of it all.
-H.G. Wells, The War of the Worlds

I belong deeply to myself.
—Warsan Shire, 34 Excuses for Why We Failed at Love

Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting.
-William Shakespeare, Henry V

And God said “Love Your Enemy,” and I obeyed him and loved myself.
-Kahlil Gibran, The Broken Wings

What if I told you I’m incapable of tolerating my own heart?”
-Virginia Woolf, Night and Day

I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.
-Sylvia Plath

if looking for stories:

After nourishment, shelter and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world.
-Philip Pullman

They say a woman’s first blood doesn’t come from between her legs
but from biting her tongue.
-Meggie Royer

When a language dies six butterflies disappear from the consciousness of the earth.
-Earl Shorris

Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.
-Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

The worst is not, So long as we can say, ‘This is the worst.’
-William Shakespeare, King Lear

I survived because the fire inside burned brighter than the fire around me.
-Joshua Graham

I see the sun, and if I don’t see the sun, I know it’s there. And there’s a whole life in that, in knowing that the sun is there.
-Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.


connoisseur of thundering bullets, unabated
i collect words.

ArtLit, Blog

quotes for the day(s)

I’ve been collecting so many words lately. My lettering and calligraphy can’t quite keep up.

Pages upon pages of words. Ask me.

But even without asking, I just want to point out that this:

and remember:

anything divided

by their equal

will always become


  • al v esben

was made by a news anchor writing under a pseudonym.

Here comes (some of) the rest.

“I see the sun, and if I don’t see the sun, I know it’s there. And there’s a whole life in that, in knowing that the sun is there.” – Fyodor Dostoyevsky
“I think each time I write that it may be the last time.” -Marianne Moore
“Me, only better.” – A random page in Cosmopolitan PH
“In a room where people unanimously maintain a conspiracy of silence, one word of truth sounds like a pistol shot.” – Czeslow Milosz

And a couple of words that are entirely mine:

“It still feels strange to me, the fact that we are alive.” – Jari


life update

To be quite honest, my life has been a constant screaming mess. We’re still working on our thesis defense, poster, manuscript and clean-up.

We’ll see.


ArtLit, Blog



I have left? That bring joy? Worth living for? That bind and connect and survive?

sometimes words are the only thing


You can get awesome high-resolution images from UNSPLASH and use them under Creative Commons Zero (no need for permission and no need for attribution). Isn’t that neat? Also, I’ve been using the mobile app PHONTO for quick photo-text fixes.

This has been a scheduled post.

ArtLit, Blog


I carry around a journal with me everywhere, but jotting down thoughts on fragile paper just feels more fun.

Probably taken two weeks ago. I think I left this on that KFC table; who knows where it is now?

#poetry #words #latepost #kfc

A photo posted by Jari Monteagudo (@jarimonty) on Sep 12, 2015 at 10:09am PDT

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This has been a scheduled post.