Monday, June 29, 2015


There was a PIP, and there was Ate Guy, and Crimson too, on my Mule and on my back pocket, as we took off, me on AGT and Bulan on LDQ, in defense of climate action, this year in Paris and nothing else, as I down-hilled on a muddy track, and crashed for the second time in my MTB life, picked myself, user name and password intact. 

The logic of PIP flowed, upped the power, to the second-to-the-last climb, spilled a little, but enough for the bike to stall, while Vee photographed that moment, and I wondered where Bulan and LDQ is.

Finally the end, where we started with boiled eggs and bananas, and concluded with boiled rice and peanuts, handed cardboard medals, and paper certificates too from the City Mayor, my former line manager, as with two others.

It must be the lasagna, and the shanghaied fish and bread, served before my induction, a haunting that lingered, in my wallet, in may tote bag, in my mug, and ignited recurring dreams on burn rates and traffic light codes , or maybe the TOIL of the next day, as we broke the trails of Villa Isla with OPAL swimming in my Pocari bottle.  

FOOTNOTE: Except for the food, all photos were provided by Lorelie Vee Domingo.

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