Love annihilates any form of logic

   They made it to the small city of Subic/Olongapo, carrying bags with a slight lining of sweat all over their bodies and walked and talked as if it never bothered them. The tall, disconcerted and often out of sync buildings were never a threat to their budding romance, if anything, this city has been a witness to the passion they were experiencing such like with the passion that was present in the strong grip of their hands. His laughter shows a lightness, his breath smells divine, mint and cigarettes with the essence of saliva, so familiar to her, imprinted subconsciously in her sunlit, unashamed sexual kingdom. She as the often submissive queen to her one and only king.

  It is as if by default, men must carry the weight of the world, or atleast women expect them to.

  But she never understood that because the panthers and the snakes in her life has taught her that there are men who faulter and never even try.

  However, this man with the carpals and the metacarpals with the skin and the muscles that grow around and with it, so intricately designed by a God who had her in His mind, made it custom to fit both their hands so perfectly.

  His eyes hidden with a pair of glasses as if he needs them to see life better, he is like a jackpot that's worth a fucking couple of bilion secret goldmines in Palawan and under the hidden plains of the Ecuadorian mountain ranges, and then a cup of hot, steamy sexual appeal on the side.

  Like she had to have those underrated scratch and win cards you purchase in a highly corrupted PCSO outlet, mushrooming on every corner of this God-forsaken-led-by-criminals of an archipelago, that reeks of the tension between the good and the bad. All of us bound to be enticed by a system thats designed to annihilate any form of logic, unless you are a crazed mathematician that stalks the workings of the lottery. But all the goodness amidst all that is bad about her country, about her life, about her damn filthy little mind, Mr. Blader embodies that sweet little creamy whip that sits quietly between all of it.

   And when she scratches these multiple cards, and with the memory of her often wounded vagina, there revealed the faces of the men she'd hurt, who'd hurt her. And gets the fucking winning combination that so resulted well, and turned Mr. Blader into that underrated jackpot prize in any Filipina girls' dream.

~ un fin.

thank you mickey