"But the peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more than those who hold it....All silencing of discussion is an assumption of infallibility. Its condemnation may be allowed to rest on this common argument, not the worse for being common. "(John Stuart Mill)

Breaking the barriers of freedom expression. Defying the controls of public opinion. Love it or hate it. Do It Yourself!

To all zinesters out there, let us connect!


There was a zine con two weeks ago and I wasn't able to attend due to pending deadlines.:( Pao WTI Zine. thanks for the invite! I really appreciate it. Gudi, this blog is still running. You are welcome to give updates anytime you want. :)

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Secrets revealed and remembered

In a futile attempt to be productive during the long weekend and save myself from being a full-fledged workaholic, I found myself singing Jordin Spark’s Tattoo  and  cleaning my storage box. Aside from the occasional dust mites and unused paper bags, I was surprised to see  a matchbox hidden inside my old bag. Thank God, it did not ignite because of the unbearable heat last summer. But what even surprised me the most were these items:

Nine (9) old notebooks filled with long narratives that perfectly described the most important stages and happenings of my existence. From my former enemy turned into my ultimate crush in high school to the most dramatic scenes that could swept the Oscars' judges, these silent papers contained my innermost secrets and kept them for years. Looking back, I never thought I was that rebellious and that I actually planned to take that rebellion into another level, not to mention that I almost dropped out of college because of that. I cannot imagine how hard headed I was. Super bitchy, impulsive, insecure, careless etc. Whew! I'm thankful that Nanay never disowned for that. Really, your perspective changes when you grow old. What a transition, I must say. Hhahahaha. 

There were entries that I can barely read for they were all smudged with ink. I can hardly decipher what I want to say during those times. Yet as I reminisced my unholy confessions, the sudden flashback of memories explained everything. Oh yes, the smudge has nothing to do with the ink, I was actually crying so hard when I wrote those uber emo prose. Ironically, I cannot stop laughing while I was reading each story. For the longest time ever and until now—I refused to believe that I wrote those things. But my handwriting would not lie. Hahahahahaha. It’s funny and at the same time, relieving how the most unfortunate phases of my life could bring me joy in the end. Somehow, it reminded me of what I had to go through and the survival tactics that I have already forgotten. Lol.

Now, there was one thing that I noticed. I only used half of the notebooks’ pages. I never used all of it. As a matter of fact, I bought a new notebook three months ago and Nanay kept on asking me why I have to buy again. 

I was also confused why I do that and I realized that it has something to do with the paper’s texture or whatsoever. I mean, there is something about the paper’s feel that inspires me to write an entry. But once I get used to it, I would switch to a new one. It really feels good to write on a new diary, right? Much better than blogging, I must say. Hehehe. Or probably, this is my way of telling myself that I had to close another chapter and start all over again. 

Currently listening to: Nickelback’s Photograph.
P.S: I really want to change the lyrics and the title to diary. Something like— look at these diaries, everytime I do they make me laugh. How did my eyes get so red and what the hell was on Meimei’s head? Blah. 

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Smoking issues and bad connections

I can't find enough smoking areas and I have no internet connection for almost 2 weeks now. 

The PROs:
a. Healthier lifestyle, chances of acquiring lung cancer and RSI is reduced
b. Getting enough sleep. No more You-Tube marathon errr, well at least for now

The CONs:
a. These are the irresistible cravings of my ID. 

Hay naku.

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Punkista Zine and Infected Mind Zine

This coming May 28, a double treat awaits zinesters and readers alike with the release of Punkista and Infected Mind zines at Etniko Bandido Infoshop. Along with this is an extensive discussion about APECO, its effects and consequences. If I’m not mistaken, a call for support against APECO was mentioned during the last zine convention. Etniko Bandido is in Pasig—perhaps somebody could provide me with the exact address since I don’t have any idea of the shop’s location. Hehehe.

P.S. Thanks to Arvin of Tagay Zin – dude I still owe you a zine and of course to Carlos of We The Infected Zine. 

Blog deleted and an apology

I almost fainted last Friday when I tried to open my page and I got this notice: ang zinesterssisters.blogspot.com ay tinanggal. Well, that wasn’t really the exact words but still, to be informed that my writing efforts were totally washed away, was enough to launch an all out war. Just when I was about to decry the so-called “suppression of my freedom of expression,” I checked my e-mail. Gmail told me that they notice suspicious activities from my account. I had to reset my password and when I finally opened my account, I actually sent spam mails to my contacts, much to my surprise. I really apologize to those who received the spam mails. 

At any rate, changing my password made a difference, I was able to restore the blog. Actually, the deletion was really nothing serious, blogger was experiencing a system glitch. Thanks to my techie officemates, I felt relieved.


It was the most unusual encounters. Unusual for the end hardly justify the means, the logic was too absurd and my questions are left unanswered. For several days I met people who seemed to find hope in a perceived marriage or partnership that is neither driven by louvre nor a little bit of affection. Rather, it was more of a profitable escape—a seemingly reckless and uncalculated dive into the unknown. I do understand the practicality of romanticism. These acts can be easily forgiven and I do not condemn those whose intentions are pure. But what is unimaginable is the idea of depending one’s life into the hands of another, knowing for a fact that these beings are neither toddlers nor zygotes that have to be nurtured and fed. These are adults. To be more specific, entities who defined their success by having a blue-eyed, blonde hair male partner who could barely utter and comprehend simple Filipino.

Don’t get me wrong, I have no intentions of placing them atthe center of ignominy. I just find the whole set-up weird. While analyzing if their applications can be approved—if I could help them in convincing the authorities that they shall not migrate illegally, my suggestions and recommendations become superfluous due to a single factor: I find it difficult to prove that they can support themselves. And this aspect matters. It really matters. It overcomes the burden of proof of overstaying.

Whenever I ask them what they have been doing to address their everyday needs, I would always get “nothing” for an answer. It is their partners that have been taking care of those things—so much so that if only air can be commodified, they could have asked those men to deliver it to them. At this point, how will you show that your real purpose of going out of the country is for the relationship? Come on, have pity on prince charming. He can’t always do it for you. Actually, I can’t help but feel sorry for both prince charming and the distress mademoiselle. It is not really the idea of being in love that bothers me and I wouldn’t raise my eyebrows if the financial demands outnumber the romance. The thing that drives me nuts is the utmost dependence for doing something that they are perfectly capable of—to live and to stand on their own feet. Go ahead, tie the knot with those men. But to entrust your very own survival unto them, long before marriage enters the picture, or even if marriage is already there, uh-oh. What if prince charming suddenly had a cardiac arrest, what would happen to them? How would they manage in a foreign land? The culture shock and the depression, how could they possibly deal with it?

Now I begin to wonder. Most of the times, I’d hear somebody say “blame it to the government for the lack of opportunities.” But blaming rarely appeals to me. It is likewise an admission that you cannot do anything. Because if there are no opportunities, then why not create one for yourself? Easy to say, hard to do. Or maybe that’s the only opportunity that they know. But if the daughters of a school janitress can become computer engineers— if the daughter of a side walk vendor can become a lawyer, why not try? They have experienced little opportunities too. I have nothing against the existing (relationship). This isn’t really my concern. But as far as I know, and as posted at the bottom part of this blog, whatever it is that you give to a woman, she can make it greater.

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The "Auteur" (sic)

Whatever you give a woman, she will make it greater. Give her sperm; she will give you a baby. Give her a house; she will give you a home. Give her groceries; she will give you a meal. Give her a smile and she will give you her heart. She multiplies and enlarges what she is given. So if you give her crap, be ready to receive a ton of shit.

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Disclaimer, Warning, Whatever

This site's main purpose is to somehow educate you about the Philippine fan/zine scene. I DO NOT DISTRIBUTE these fan/zines. If you want to have your own copy, the DIRECTORY is here and the LINKS are already provided so you can contact the zine editors directly. BAWAL ANG TAMAD. If you are too lazy to contact these zinesters, then you are giving me the impression that you are also too lazy to read. Enough of spoonfeeding. I don't have time for sluggish protozoans.

Love it or hate it, DO IT YOURSELF! READ, READ, READ


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