Jojo Son

I write

[jojo-son]

Induction of my performances in this platform.

A blog of my works, or as I call it my terrible performance for my great a talent.

Darlings, I am Jojo Son, a writer and a dreamer, quite young and unknowing, writes for performance, aching of emotions, and sudden burst of genius.

The actual name is quite a shame, the pseudonym was founded out of a persona I made years ago, I won't tell the origins, it's between me and my lies.

Forgive my no photos in my works, I am not very fond of too much labour, as picking photos and editing them to look proper, is not in my skill set.

Good friends and dear acquaintances are a need.

I hope in this world in which I created and performed in, I would be very much pleased with Jojo Son, and find people who would like to sit down and talk about the sinister ways of life.

Sending my kisses to the girlies, children, and cats, all things I love.

,Jojo Son

mind monologue

[jojo-son]

There are things I despise, parents being first. All sorts of decision they make to try and make their kids perfect, but actually they are only trying to make up for what they couldn’t make of themselves. They spent their whole lives not trying or trying to become someone, and when it doesn’t work out, they immediately resort to conceiving children, to decorate and make a replica of their dreams. A failure in the face of a reality they keep denying, and a failure in never seeing their children become their own beautiful creature. And that’s just issue number one, let’s not get started on the parents of the handicapped darlings. Those sweet angels must not be discriminated against, but their parents shall, the entitlement and expectation of every other species to bend over for their child’s needs(parent’s needs), is a delusion that no disabled person is capable of, only the narcissism of their caretakers. And how about the parents who presses religion up their kid’s noses, until it gets too suffocating, and wonder why atheism is common amongst the youth. The ionlyeverlovedyoubecauseihadto parents are the real winner, their extreme dislike for everything their kid is, how their eyes squint with disgust and sadness, after all, you only ever not like the kid because they mirror you.

[jojo-son]

What era/year would you want to go back to?

I am a woman, I do not have the privilege to feel safe in any timeline, not even my own. Harmless that question is, but when you bother to learn history of women, and how long we've been fighting against society, you would know how it has only been a few decades since women were allowed to file for divorce from their abusive spouses. It's not that long ago, we must not dismiss all the struggle and fight, and rather find every factor holding women on their throats, educate oneself to never be fooled by the disguised misogyny, especially the ones presented with no shame. A woman today can't change the past, but it can change what is the now, and we are not free until all are free, wake up.

[jojo-son]

Ang Taksil sa Bayan na Ito

Sa paaralan unang natututunan ang lahat tungkol sa bayan. Ang kahirapang naranasan ng ating mga ninuno sa kamay ng mga banyaga. Kung paano sinakop at ginawang kawawa sa sariling lupa, at ang pagpunit ng pagkakakilanlan ng isang Pilipino. Sa kagustuhang makawala sa mahigpit na pagkakahawak ng mga mananakop, lumaban at inalay ang dugo at pawis sa kalayaan, at sa huli ay nasinagan ang kulay asul at pula na bandila; Pilipinas, bayan, tayo ay malaya.

Malaya, tila palaisipan na lang ang ugnayan ng salita na ito sa kalagayan ng ating bayan. Patuloy pa rin naman na nakaangat ang bandila, nakawala naman na tayo sa banyaga, pero hindi tayo malaya. Hindi ito opinyon o teorya na nabuo ng manunulat, ito ay katotohanang hindi nakikita ng hubad na mata, na sa pagkasanay, ito’y naging kabuuan ng ating mga sarili, hindi na nga natin namamalayan ang pagkawala ng kalayaan na matagal nating ipinaglaban.

Sistema, gobyerno, lipunan, sarili; alin ang dapat sisihin. Kung ang aking opinyon ay hihingiin, gobyerno syempre ang aking sasabihin, sapagka't walang sistema ang maghahari sa lipunang kinagagalawan ng ating mga sarili, kung walang gobyernong nagdidikta nito. Nagdidikta, mapanganib na salita, ngunit may mabigat na kahulugan, hindi ito dapat basta-basta binibitawan laban sa nasa itaas. Paano na lang ang ating kaligtasan kapag tayo'y namulat sa entabladong matagal na nating sinasayawan, na ang madla ay hindi natin nakikita at naaabot, at kapag tayo'y tumigil sa perpektong sayaw na ating ginaganapan simula sa una nating iyak, baka ito na ang ating magiging huling pagtatanghal, at nasa kanila ang huling halakhak.

Pero ano nga ba ang opinyon ko laban sa katotohanan na sinasabi nila, ano ang silbi ng aking pananaw sa mga taong bulag na sa katotohanan? Malaya pa naman tayong mag-isip para sa sarili, kaya't ating isipin ang makabubuti sa sarili, kahit ito'y pagiging taksil sa bayan na ating kinatatayuan.

Jojo Son

mind monologue

[animentality]

[tall]

[jojo-son]

very close, Michael

[jojo-son]

Some days it's just hard to create, I've found no courage lately. I'm working on an idea I had for years, mingling with it a little, figuring out what I want it to become, and what I can create with it. The struggle of finding the words, making sure the ideas are built upon passion and artistry. The creation of everything is not an easy feat, every creation shall be celebrated. Hopefully, I get to celebrate mine soon.

[jojo-son]

🏠 🗻

A house stood still on the hill,

Its stillness could make anyone feel ill.

The grass and the trees are its companion,

It could rejoice, for it had not been abandoned.

Anyone who wishes to visit,

Let the wind and sky be your transit.

No map, nor compass, leads your way,

A house on the hill is where magic lays.

Be very dear, and bring flowers for the road.

Once on the top of the hill,

Lay the flowers at its peak, and sing a song to open the door.

If the house shall like your serenade, it opens and locks you in.

You have been a permanent resident,

To be frightened or elated is your choice.

Be sure to make yourself at home,

At the house on the hill, you'll live forevermore.

Jojo Son

mind monologue

The picture below is the inspiration, it's one of those backrooms media that's always on my feed. It's somewhat unsettling and calm at the same time. I had always imagined it as a place one could never leave, unless they unlock something within themselves.

[jojo-son]

What does if feel to be struck

By a lighting, or a truck.

A curiosity that shall not be made,

For you could only be so hopeless.

Grief and sorrow is a friend,

Not the good nor the bad kind.

For there are times when they

Are the only ones existing, and kind enough to stay by your side.

Cheer and smile are the ones to want,

But to be sought with intent and hope.

For it could only be your friend,

When you're friends with yourself.

One could only have too many friends,

With few very dear, and some too hard to call a friend.

Such as one shall not have enemies,

But, man makes enemy of oneself so well.

Age this and that, the young un's and the masters,

Find very little things to differentiate.

The masters, well they mastered the normalcy and being all the same.

The young un's, master of nothing, good at everything.

Hear you some proper lecture

Of poetry and literature.

I'll be sure to be in the front seat,

Thinking of which I ought to write to please the gods.

Jojo Son

mind monologue

[jojo-son]

Banana and Poetry

Here a fruit so luminous, the peel sweeps you off your feet. The tree, not so much of strength, with mean winds, it shakes and falls and kiss the soil. A very dear man with a pen and mind to share, does not write about impeccable treasures, like the banana. But, a child, with not much of a brain and genius, will embrace the banana and say a prayer for it, the sky could cry. And so, for when we see the fruit, we must write more in its honor, and pray she who wrote this, to learn about bananas, and even more about poetry.

[jojo-son]

Spare me the shame of what I've felt,

I do not want to sound despicable,

Least to be thought impossible.

A mindless slumber would be a miracle,

The kindest gift the universe could do me for.

It cannot occur, I know there's something to be done.

A price I am not willing to pay,

To be kinder to oneself and another.

Kindness is one thing, but being kind with all the darkness this world contains, and to not be consumed by it, is another.

[jojo-son]

A little English discussion for the nighttime.

Synonym:

Words with the same meaning

Ex.:

Unwell & Sick

Dishonest & Politicians

Scumbag & Trump

Antonyms:

Words that oppose each other's meaning.

Ex.:

Victory & Defeat

Kind & Churchgoers

Innocent & Duterte

Oxymoron:

A figure of speech that pairs two words that contradict each other.

Ex.:

Loud Silence

Women's Rights (they just can't co-exist, it can't happen, women can't have rights)

Great Murderer (see antonym for reference)

Sleep tight, and dream big dreams, ladies and children. And insomnia to the ones in red.

[jojo-son]

I've composed a lot of literary pieces, some I so proudly claim and some I wish never left my pen. I do not read what I write anymore, which is unusual, as I used to obsessively reread everything, and either feel like the greatest writer after Shakespeare, or feel like an absolute pretentious con-artist. And both feels a failure to a career I promised myself. I'll be entering college this year, and guess what course I'll be taking. I haven't really thought it thoroughly, my brain gets extremely exhausted with all the possible choices there is. I searched for what I really want, and there seems to be a resource crisis, only one came up and it's probably the most disappointing degree my parents could think of. They can't say to their colleagues that they have a doctor, as they always dreamt of. But, I'll be fine, I really hope so, and if not, at least I write.

[jojo-son]

Everytime you feel hatred towards another, you must remember, that hate is a strong word, and even a stronger emotion. And that sometimes, hate is something that grew out of love so sweet, it became too bitter.

[jojo-son]

When I was younger, and still believed in the heavenly father, there's always this voice that's so aggressive and loud, it blurts out "fuck you, god". And out of fear of god not letting me into heaven, I'd smack my head and apologize like I was the one who put him on the cross, and that's how I knew that I was some sort of mentally retarded. Certainly, believing in an all-powerful being, who created you and therefore you are to love and believe him for the rest of your days, because if you don't, you will be drowned in hot lava with demons poking your behind with trident, which he also created just in case you refused to submit to him, should be painted out as an all-loving, all-forgiving father, shouldn't he? And isn't it just so sweet that his religion is so against basic human rights, when in the bible his son was portrayed as a victim of social injustice. I have no idea what his followers could make of this, and I could care less, as I may be a retarded, but atleast I'm not the suck dick of religion kind of retarded. If I were to ask myself now on how I feel about my younger self throwing the f word at the imaginary man in the sky, I'd probably say that I really do mean that.

[jojo-son]

Sa Manlulupig Di ka Pasisiil

Bigkas ng bawat mamamayan sa himig na hindi nagagapi. Ang dugo na tumulo sa lupa ng bayan na ito, ay siyang dugo na paulit-ulit tinatapakan ng mga banyaga na pilit hinuhubaran ng kaluwalhatian ang bayang ating minamahal. Puot ay nadarama, bakit natin hinahayaang sunggabin ang ating lupain ng mga dayuhang dati na tayong ginawang alipin. Ngunit, hindi ang pananakop at pang-aapi ng mga banyaga pala ang kikitil sa masa, kundi ang ating sariling dugo. Paano natin maiaawit ang himig para sa bayan, kung ang mga mang-aawit lang din ang mga manlulupig nito.

[jojo-son]

17 is one hell of an odd number.

A fine line between childhood innocence and adulthood bliss, which is to be missed and which is to be lived. Alas! Nobody knows which is which, for we weep when we think about it, or not think about it at all. Do the child in you a favor, and take a piece of its finger in your pocket. You might find in your great a journey later in life, that finger holds memories you can't even remember!