[The statement of purpose I'm using for my MA Review at UCI. Please leave comments and suggestions, especially before my exam (on 15 Feb)!] My main interest is in political economy. I am interested in the ways in which material scarcity (real and imagined) leads to some kind of system or regime, a certain way…
Category Archives: Boy
attempts to perform manliness, masculinity, boyishness, hoping to understand what it means to be a man.
[The introduction to a current project:] There is something nomadic about Thomas Pynchon’s Against the Day (2006). While the novel, so far Pynchon’s longest, takes place in a specific context—the Progressive Era in America up to the chaos of World War I—it nonetheless moves back and forth across space—across America, the globe, and beyond, including…
[Some of the PhD programs I applied to wanted to know more about my person and how it has shaped the kind of work that I do. This is the statement of “personal history and philosophy” I wrote in addition to the “purpose of study.”] I was born in cosmopolitan Manila, capital of the Philippines,…
[A revised version of the “purpose of study” I sent out when applying for the PhD, written with the feedback of professors, friends, and family] I have taken a long and unusual route to decide what kind of work to do for the PhD. Partly this is due to my Third World background. Focused on…
She’d been roaring a long rant then she rambled on. He snarled stubbornly and barely stopped himself from strangling her. Silence in the middle of the street. He saw the tears in her eyes as she saw his face reddened. The afternoon wind blew, Shh . . . He hesitantly, slowly held her hand. She…
I’ve been hiding in the forest, in the woods. Up in the mountains. In the wild. I hadn’t gone back to town for some time now. Ryan, as I see, has taken care of this place. He proves, as always, responsible and competent. Ever mindful of the many unhomes that, fortunately or otherwise, we share.…
So: Who am I? (Either) Ryan or Aless? (Or) Aless or Ryan? And, isn’t it: / ? As it turns out, I am constituted by parts that connect (especially with alien parts, in all different sorts of connection, ones no I can really claim), that is, when they’re not saying No!, when they could, when…
“Let’s leave. Tonight.” “What are you talking about?” “Do you have any idea how much it kills me whenever you get jealous of me? Talking to a girl, or talking about them? Don’t you think I see? Don’t you think I saw just now—And that wasn’t even a friend!” “You don’t know what you’re talking…
You look at yourself in the mirror. You see your face is the same. You tighten your tie. In the mirror, you see them, by the bed. You see him, the love of your life. His face, like yours, betrays no emotion, like that time at the gym when he walked in and, upon seeing…
My life goes through this cycle where, at one point, I’m really passionate about my work, I’m all functioning and productive (prolific!), having found some purpose, sensing meaning (excited!) in life-and then, all of a sudden, I get tired, I can’t look at the computer (“My eyes hurt so bad!”), I slow down, I don’t get to do as much, I question the worth of what I’m doing (“Who the f**k cares what you think? Why even think about these things? Why center your life on something no one cares about?” It’s not gonna change anything! It doesn’t f**king matter! You don’t f**king matter!”), I get all nihilistic and depressed, I get hypersensitive about everything, insecure about the littlest things, and, deep inside, feel nothing.
