transporation

Metro coming through with the facts once again! Trump’s administration needs to stop lying. The Women’s March was obviously attended by more people than his tired inauguration.

flickr

San Juan Islands, Washington, USA

4

The Jeepney

The iconic, colorful, decorative, mode of transportation of the Philippines. They were created out of the leftover U.S. military jeeps in the Philippines after World War II and have transformed into a form of taxi/bus service throughout the country. The jeepney is one of the most iconic images of the Philippines that has also become a sort of symbol among Filipino’s.

Among recent years there has been an environmental issue among the use of the jeepney’s as they are one of the major sources of the high pollution in major cities especially in Manila. To combat this problem the electronic jeepney’s or e-jeepney’s were created that can be charged into an electric sockect using power from biodegradable waste.

Photo Sources: [x], [x], [x], [x]

Has anyone else played Morrowind and wished there was a comprehensive map of the transportation locations, prices and hours? Well it’s 13 years late, but now it exists!

This was part of a school project, but I decided to make something I, and other gamers could actually use. I’d like to produce prints and sell this, so I’m looking for advice and critique on the design and layout.

I had a hell of a time trying to tell my teacher just how in depth a game Morrowind is, or how useful this map actually is.

o dia está nublado e minha alma sorri torto com esse céu cinzento. 

é um gosto pessoal meu. esse horizonte transcendendo entre o branco e o fim. é como me sinto a maior parte do tempo: pesado. carregado. exausto. as nuvens têm muito de mim, carregando uma carga mais pesada do que suportam e deixando transpor pequenas gotículas que muitas pessoas reclamam e outras aceitam sorrindo. causam alguns estragos e algumas tragédias, mas também compõe beijos apaixonados e algumas gargalhadas. 

eu sou esse complexo entre o inferno e o céu. 

só não se assustem quando eu trovejo, é sinal que meu corpo está prestes a explodir. 

mas uma hora eu amanheço e viro luz. 

There Is a Girl In My Class

There is a girl in my class. I knew that I recognized her, but I couldn’t place her. True, I had seen her at a table in the library, sitting with a group of other disabled students. I vaguely remember wondering if there was a club, and if I could join. But that wasn’t how I knew her. There was an interaction, easing its way into my brain.

As I sat next to her on the bus, I remembered.

She stood for me once, on the bus. It had been stuffed full, and I had my cane. I squeezed my way onto the bus, near the entrance. “Federal law requires these seats be made available to individuals with disabilities,” read the sign. The bus began to move, and I lost my balance. I didn’t fall, the bus was too crowded. But I was bounced between riders like a ball in a game of keep-away.

And she stood. She had a visible palsy, and it restricted the use of one of her hands, but she grasped the handlebar and said, “you can have my seat”.

I thanked her and sat, unsure of what else to do. She got off a few stops later.


“Hi,” I said haltingly, “I’m in your class. And, uh, you stood up for me on the bus, once. So thanks for that.”

“Well,” she said simply, “no one ever stands for me.”

No one cares for our needs but us. So it’s very much in our best interest to look out for one another. Thanks again, Ashna. Thanks for understanding.

eu queria falar falar e falar, por horas, mesmo sem ter nada a dizer. sabe como é complicado sentir medo e tristeza e vontade de morrer e mesmo assim não consegui transpor nada do que sente? às vezes eu só queria alguém que ouvisse todos os meus anseios e receios sem me julgar louco ou desistir de mim nas primeiras crises constantes que me assombram. 

eu me sinto perdido em cada tentativa de escrever sobre esse desespero interno, sabe? tento metaforizar, usar hipérbole, sentido figurado. mas nada dá certo. já tentei encher a cara, encher o peito, encher o saco, mas nada parece encher esse vazio que cada dia mais se parece com um vácuo absoluto.

por que sentimentos têm que ser tão obsoletos? 

por que o mundo se perde em desencontros? 

por que as pessoas são feitas para darem errado? 

por que o destino não se encarrega de tornar todos infinitamente felizes? 

é doloroso ter que conviver com essa incerteza de que o final feliz vai me pertencer também. cara, não ligo nem que tenha final, mas essa coisa de felicidade importa, sabe? importa porque é desesperador sentir como se a vida lhe tivesse arrancado todo os sentimentos e deixado um ponto de interrogação onde antes havia reticências. 

é desesperador não ter. 

é desesperador esperar.

é desesperador não saber.

e fico nesse desespero de esperar algo que não sei o que é, nem quando vem, nem se um dia chega. talvez esperar seja a forma mais sensata de criar esperança, mesmo sem saber se ainda há.