I suppose I can confidently write things down here because for most of my social circle, gone are the days of longer blog entries, and here is the age of the 16-bit, post-processed, filtered version viewable in Facebook, Instagram, et cetera. I find this boring and oddly fun (hah).

Hello, how have you been, anonymous reader? I hope things are going swell from your side of the screen.

2018 is going swell for me, considering the massive shitbeast known as 2017.

My 29th birthday was spent with people I actually love, which is pretty cool. All my anchors, well distributed.

I’ve managed to paint a lot the past few weeks. Nothing new, poetry-wise, but all’s good.

Waiting for some news regarding the new job to ease in, hopefully all goes well. The new place I’ll move to seems amusingly stalker-free.

The sadness doesn’t sink in as easily anymore. Let’s hope things keep going that way.



I’ll be your dream: punk rock sans the edges and teeth. I’ll be your
heroine- HP and MP sufficient
for the night and all its games. 
Librarian, artist, girl
next door. I’ll let you pin me down, 
call me names you’ll never speak 
to her face. I’ll hold you
where it hurts, I’ll let you run 
your hands over the small of my back- 
I’ll let you pull my hair as you spill
your desire into the sheets. I’ll be your love
eternal, sweet peach, baby
girl, darling, slut, valkyrie
in golden armor. I’ll be the Beatrice
to your Dante – love doomed 
to circle through hell
from the start. I’ll gladly swallow
this honeyed secret down
to the last drop. I’ll be everything
you wanted but never dreamed 
to ask for. Baby, I’ll be perfect: 
I’ll be the moon and stars 
to your sun: watch 
how the universe aligns 
for this 16-bit downfall
we’ve both been aching for. 
Select Start:
Pull me in closer.

Love Letter

Hey you,

It’s a lie if I said I haven’t been writing. Another lie: as if the previous year in all its shambles meant nothing to me. It has, always, except, as you know prior to our parting: I am surrounded by circumstances that prevent me from completely facing this, the entire story admixed and diluted between all the work needed to be done to pursue an agreeable future. “Keeping going” and “Be strong”, harped sage advice and common sense. And so I did: took whatever was left of this heart and kept sloughing forward – day after day I kept on: each new experience a means to distract and relieve from the last. I changed, mostly from necessity to forgive myself rather than the actual desire to differ. The few friends I kept close immediately took to notice: B, friend since forever the only person to ever pick up at 3am, usually says how I’m living THE life and I’m not really sure what this means; F periodically reminds me to make time for myself; P – Best In Conviction and Moral Compass – threatened to end our friendship if I continued carrying out a toxic endeavor. D I only ever see in conventions or over beer; N took me in her house like a little orphan a few times; M promises to visit but never does; 2 friends got married, another gave birth – T told me one time how you asked about me a few months ago. I don’t suppose we’re still close enough to exchange details of our lives but I remember how you always talked about the risks we take and I suppose I took a few risks here and there – some yielding earthquakes and others collisions: all the same, I am here doing what I set out to do and on some days I suppose I miss you, I miss us – the fulcrum on which I used to think my world once stood – but I miss everything less and less as each day folds into the future.

I hope you are well.


despite everything

you get your dreams for a while. you build them.

the world deals you cards you never, ever expected. you find yourself turning into someone else. hurting someone you thought you loved – so much, so very much.

how do you find it to forgive yourself?
how do you find it to get up the next day?

and you miss it all. you miss what it meant, what it could have been.
but that was then. this is now. now what? where do we begin?

Art for sale

Hi friends! I’ll be selling stuff (i.e., postcards and bookmarks) at ‪#‎BLTX‬ Cubao!  🙂

It would be super awesome if you guys could drop by & show support & love.

Postcard sizes range from ~4.1×5.8 inches to 5 x7 inches, price ranges from 60-100 each. The bookmarks are a steal at 10-20 pesos! 😀 Individual prices are in the images’ captions.
I only printed 6 copies per design – please leave a comment if you wanna pre-order or send an email over at alyza.taguilaso@gmail.com. Pick-up is at BLTX.

I’ll also be releasing my first poetry chapbook… stay tuned 🙂

a small press/DIY expo

Venue: Ilyong’s Project 4, Cubao
Date: Dec 4, Friday
Time: 6 pm to sawa


Events page: https://www.facebook.com/events/627282450707891/

Happening elsewhere simultaneously
BLTX Baguio Cafe Yagam
BLTX Davao Sales Bar Tekanplor


Tell them about the scars – lacerated, gashing, punctured
little wounds that add up into some survival
story. Add details as necessary: the injury resulting
from pen, knife, sword – the dragon
need not breathe fire. The knight – perished
or parted ways some years back? The coffin
need not be made of glass, the girl sleeping
need not wake up. The men need not be three feet small.
Yes, you are allowed apples in this room.
Tell them about the pumpkin, warmed
by medicated porridge, the clock that struck
its alarm far too early. Map the scene: take ten paces past the dollhouse
castle, tread through the goldmine beneath the hospital wards, take a left and hang
right. Pay homage to those without names and faces, dwelling
beneath the sidewalks. Heed not the hipster fairies- tonight’s dance involves
no coal. Ignore the golems and their silver bells, their electric guitars’ enchantment
only works on the weak-willed. The wolf
in the red hoodie will give you a name
for a name. Make no mention
of his smoke-stained teeth, those prosthetic claws.
Respect the old rules.
The crone with a mud-caked face will barter you
the truth for a single lie
guaranteed to save your life. Tell her what you saw
the night of the 17th: the witch’s limbs brewing
oxycodone with some crystals and spice, her eyes rolled upwards,
elsewhere while her body seizes, divining, and how you stood, unflinching,
eagerly awaiting a future among other futures, one where the scars didn’t stem
from your own discontented hands, a world where you would’ve lived
happily. Keep some secrets
from yourself.

wordpress made the linecuts wonky & it’s not super wow! but it’s the first thing I’ve written in 4 months & I’m at least happy for that.


Hello! I realize, again, that I’ve been leaving this space of the interwebs in limbo for a bit. Reason’s really simple: I’ll be taking the Physician Licensure Exams this August.

Overall, it’s terrifying. The thought and the process (considering I’ve never taken a board exam before). Sacrificed writing and painting so I can slough through 12 subjects (hopefully 3-4 readings each time).

Tomorrow I’m going to start with cycle 2 of readings, and I’m typing this because it’s my dinner break. I usually wake up 6:30 or 7 in the morning and study until 12 midnight. Lunch & dinner breaks happen for an hour each.

I still make small time for Getting a Life (i.e., meeting a friend, exercising, watching a movie, etc) but those usually mean I have to activate Turbo Mode.

Anyway. That’s all from this patch of the universe.