For about a week now, my father and stepmother have morphed into owls. They have adapted night-shift jobs that require them to be awake from evening to dawn. Along with some of our neighbors, if not marauding the quiet streets and pasting on walls, they are either clumped in the nearby sari-sari store preparing election paraphernalia. With the searing heat nowadays, it makes sense that they do the plastering and literal messing of public walls with photoshopped faces of candidates when the sun is out. Practically, when everyone is asleep and no one is aware that the gang just plastered their candidate's face on someone else's. It's a dog-eat-dog world mi amigos.
It's not actually what worries me, Papa plastering faces on walls, but him ending up this way. For the past week, he hasn't accepted any painting contractual jobs. In fact, after he resigned from his laboratory work in one of the biggest cement corporations in the Philippines (now owned by a Swiss magnate) some 10 years ago, and after the stupid business venture went kaput, finding a decent job has been up to no good. In fact, life has been up to no good for him, which means life has been up to no good for me and my siblings also. Oh fuck it. I hate where this is going so I'm gonna shut up now.
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