Born on the Year of the Snake. Married with three daughters. One granddaughter. Type-O negative. I Ching. Precariously happy. Illegible handwriting. Screenprinter. Underground. Favorite writer: Beckett. [Pause]. Twoeightoneeighttwosevenone. From the sewer capital of Metro Manila. Could occasionally snap out of chronic depression. Burnout. Worked as a bike courier. Will probably be dead by mid-forties. So I thought. Still alive ten years after. Five ten. Broke. Flat Broke. A cryptic crap junkie. Smokes Camel. Not an unwilling poet. Last book read: Auto-da-Fé by Elias Canetti. Use to be long-haired and very short tempered. 3rd INWW reject. Has few friends. Lots of ex-friends. Did a bit of glass etching. Max, Zoey & Didi. Luna. Zeronineonesixsixtwoseventwofivetwotwo. Coffee. Lots of it. What the hell ever happened to Andeas Mattson? Three sisters. One half-brother. A hundred and nineteen pounds. Obstkuchen. Likes to dress down. Gambler. Insomniac. Major influence: Dostoevsky & Klee. Sinigang na Hipon. BA dropout. Grandfather died of lung cancer. Bosch, Piranesi, Turner, Ernst, Munch, Balthus, Schwitters, Bacon etc. Use to be a hepcat. Still is. Miserable. Favorite quote: "All individuality is a mistake that death will correct." -Thomas Mann (Buddenbrook). Papier-mâché modeling. Also plaster of Paris, cement and terra cotta. Forte: abstraction. Got only four decent pairs of underwear. Wearing one now. Shutterhappy. Last book reread: Philosophies of India- Heinrich Zimmer. Hates Greene. Mother died twenty-six years ago. Brain tumor. Published a couple of poems long ago in vernacular- Sunday Inquirer Magazine. Mountainbiking. Good listener. Shoplifts. mightaswellshootme@yahoo.com. Size eight and a half. A slob. Loathes Greene. Second Law of Thermodynamics. designmafia. Bach, Boulez, Barbers, Stravinsky et al. Ex-user. Ex-Catholic. Ex-atheist. Agnostic. Could use a break. Profound contempt of language. Should've been a painter. Or a sculptor. Full time. Maxx Honey-mansi. Somnio, ergo sum. Cogito interruptus. Lost a phrase... Gone. Nothing. Could be lying. No shit...
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