WARNING: This entry is reeking of bitterness.

Hot Coconuter filtered my comment. I mean, he did not let it through. I mean, he did not post it. I mean, huwaaaay? I mean, what's with my comment? I mean, I was hoping to see my first ever comment, and probably the last, err...get posted at his blog.

I was frustrated. Sure, I don't have the fucking right to whine. It's his blog anyway. After all, I have my own space where I can write anything about anything or anyone that pleases me or displeases me.

Sure, that's exactly what I am doing now.

Well, here's the story. Hot Coconuter takes his shirt off and into the murky water he goes. Rewind a little: He examines the water and sees an almost-toilet-brown cascade. The water, er...the mud is inviting. He takes his shirt off. Exposes his abs. Looks at the camera. Shifts focus from the camera to the boulders. And comes next is his union with the murky water--his union with the kanal.

Well, Hot Coconuter moves around the country, except Mindanao perhaps, upon his arrival and journals his experiences. He takes photos of everything--even himself up on a mango tree.

Sorry. He asks someone to take photos of him while he climbs up a mango tree. Sorry. Wrong. Mango shrub because mango is dwarf. Yes. He climbs up dwarf mango tree errr...mango shurbs and he stays up there for a photoshoot. He stays up there whilepainstakingly maintaining a delicious pout. Make that half-pout. That while staring--well, not really staring but gawking--at the empty expanse called The Sad And Disheartening Truth About My Country, Philippines.

Gawking pehraps because Hot Coconuter cannot understand the sad and disheatening truth about his second country, the Philippines and why he is languishing in this miserable country in the first place. Probably why he would always ask someone to take photos of him while he picks up vegetables at a stinky public market. Perhaps he wants to capsulize the misery of the Filipino people in these photos.

Perhaps he finds joy in the agony and gloom that has all these years cloaked the country, the reason why he takes part in religious exercises that demands of him to literally carry a cross during holy week. Or maybe why without qualms, he picks up the hammer--again takes off his shirt, exposes his abs, and shows himself in boxers--and helps a local build a shanty.

Perhaps the sight and stench of a pile of garbage brings him orgasmic chills as shown by another photo where his wide boyish smile appears totally misfit against a backdrop of rubbish. Well, I call it structural violence. I call it insensitivity. I call it, err...rubbish.

But perhaps I am wrong. I could be wrong. Perhaps Hot Coconuter enjoys simple life as he writes: "Refreshed, my cousins and I would go on to play with farm animals and climb mango trees, picking a few Indian mangoes to eat at home with alamang (shrimp paste) or bagoong (fish sauce) and shaking the moist leaves hoping to find a shiny green salaginto or june bug. We would grin and laugh enjoying ourselves under the glimmering sun. How delightful and simple life was then..."

Perhaps he really enjoys getting himself dirty. Well, as he goes around the country, except Mindanao so far, he faces several mishaps, including the tragedy of dipping into a muddy river. Tragedy because he believes and I guess he wants us all to believe that Balon is a waterfall. Will someone tell him that balon is also an an open well and in many instances muddy?

So what was the filtered comment all about? That he bathed at the kanal.