I have this sense this is the dirtiest election this country has ever had. Or Ka Satur and Lisa Masa wouldn’t be fucking with Bongbong Marcos aboard Villar’s campaign wagon. Or the feminist icons of my youth wouldn't be campaigning for Noynoy like he is all they could scavenge from all this political garbage the country has produced. Or I wouldn’t be there whoring around doing errands for fags writing solicitation letters to Councilors that they may pay for our snacks. Or I wouldn’t be writing press releases a peso and fifty cents per word and explain it away by saying I did it for a friend who wanted company in some shit job or that I needed the money to pay for someone’s fare to Leyte that he may be able to vote and campaign for Ladlad.
Yes, Dear Reader, I am depressed. Suicidal.
Now I cannot say I am out of this fuck. Now I cannot say that I am not voting for anyone there screwing for my vote the ballot is the coffin of class consciousness period. I have lost that right.
And now I lost appetite writing and can’t even read a book with a clear conscience, cannot meet my deadlines doing reports for children rights offices so that I can keep tab of the rent and buy the Carol Lewis classic and the Tolkien volumes I promised my nieces.
Dear Reader, help. I feel like a slot in a ballot box.
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