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Fake PWD IDs? Are PWDs getting an unfair advantage?

I didn’t know there were cases of people creating allegedly fake PWD IDs in the Philippines to get discounts not meant for them. Maybe I’m naive, but I can’t imagine massive numbers of people doing this with the intent to deceive and take advantage of others. Why would anyone fake a disability just to get a few pesos knocked off their expenses? I rather believe that majority of Filipinos are better than this. 

First, is there data to back this up? Where is the evidence that many PWD IDs used in restaurants and other establishments are fake? How many are fake IDs, and what is the percentage of these compared to the legitimate ones? 

Now, I understand this is a valid concern, especially for small businesses, because they shoulder the 20% discount and not the government. My issue is that there didn’t need to be a question of whether or not people with disabilities deserve this discount. 

As a neurodivergent individual diagnosed with several invisible disabilities, I find it outrageous that people question the validity of my being disabled. Some of these disabilities include: 

  • ADHD (a learning disability—which is honestly an oversimplified category for what it truly is)
  • Bipolar II disorder
  • Previously, but still under treatment, Complex PTSD 

I take medications to manage these conditions and function as an adult in this highly capitalistic and ableist society. I need these meds to be able to work, do the seemingly simplest of daily tasks, and not be stuck in paralyzing states of depression, mania, and fear, among others. I spend around 20,000 pesos for these meds each month, including meds for my physical ailments, like diabetes, hypertension, endometriosis, etc., etc. Add to that the cost of medical consultations, therapy sessions, and tests, and even my above-average income is barely enough. 

Do we deserve discounts on medicines? I think most people would agree. How about discounts on food, groceries (these are limited to commodities like rice, bread, etc.), and some listed as eligible in the lifestyle category? I understand this is where people start complaining. 

I also understand that the restaurants and other establishments shoulder this legally mandated 20% discount and not the government. I think the conversation then that needs to happen is why isn’t this being taken from our taxes? Then again, people would still complain about their taxes benefitting people with disabilities—because, as is apparent in these recent outbursts from restaurant owners, people generally feel that PWDs don’t deserve it. 

So do we? 

Most of the world operates in a system that punishes us for being disabled. Schools and employment often don’t consider that we need to exert significantly more effort to function or even just stay alive. I think it’s only fair that we get some accommodations to give us a chance to live fairly normal lives. 

Ultimately, we need an overhaul of the healthcare system, which is a bigger conversation. 

I never quite forgot this statement I heard from one disabled person: “The problem is not that there are people in wheelchairs. The problem is that buildings don’t have ramps.” 

Note: I lived in the US for a few years, and they didn’t have such a law for PWDs. It’s good that we have it here. And the US is not exactly a great example to follow in terms of healthcare. 

Including this photo as a preview of this illustrated book I’m working on.

May be an illustration of text that says 'Hi! I'm Tiny, and I have ADHD! I like coffee and sweets, and I think that's why I have anxiety and diabetes as well. But there's more to that, really. I also have bipolar II disorder and a bunch of other illnesses. 風山 RK I take a lot of meds. Meds to keep me focused, keep my heart rate and blood pressure down, and lessen period pain.'

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Our Evolution as Lovers of Our Ever-Changing Selves

Love evolves, 

and every day, I find

new ways

to love the new version of you;

new versions of us. 

While cherishing all

the ways we were

and not anymore,

all the things we adopt

and let go about ourselves,

we find ourselves embracing

what we’ve become

together. 

We passed

the previous tests

in flying colors,

even if we didn’t always take

the most ideal path;

we’ve created

solutions 

tailored just for us.

Forget the numbers;

we don’t need to know the odds. 

We have our hands

to guide us

where we want them to land. 

And I will always

find yours in the dark. 

I’ve memorized the places

you take to hiding

when this world becomes

too much.

I know where to wait,

keeping the lamp of faith

lit outside the tunnel. 

Because I know

you’ll come out of it

looking for me

to be by my side

in our evolution as lovers

of our ever-changing selves. 

Our Evolution as Lovers of Our Ever-Changing Selves

27 October 2024

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A Safe Place to Snore

Seven billion people on the planet.

Only I have the privilege 

of hearing your snores up close,

telling me you feel safe 

in my arms.

Nothing else matters 

but your steady breathing,

your arms wrapped around me, 

protecting me from a world

falling apart at the seams. 

And we can sleep together 

all day;

it will still be

the most worthwhile use 

of my time. 

A Safe Place to Snore

26 October 2024

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The Author is Dead

My years flew by so swiftly, yet the journey of getting here seemed long and unfruitful. I feel I tired myself out trying harder than I ought, stretching wide and reaching for glimmer that turned out to be glints of cheap gold. What have I acquired but trinkets and piles of paper filled with dreams that may remain dreams until I fall into the deepest sleep? What do I do with all these words that hardly make a dent in this thick membrane of noise suffocating my world with endless muttering? 

By half the world’s standards, I am young. Yet I feel the strain in my limbs at every turn. I do not wish to be younger. I only wish I could hold on to my senses for longer. Or rather, that they don’t abandon me too soon. I know there are yet some silver threads in the sky, if not gold, to wait for. But I am tired. And I ache from restless hours, and I long for time. Though sometimes I wish for all of it to end sooner. 

But then, I met you in the passage. You’re still here. And I am reminded that I did not get here alone. Suddenly, the cheap glimmer turns into an aurora too beautiful for my eyes that they can’t but sing their gratitude in tears. I am reminded that in the midst of it all, there is kindness. I do not need to fear what I know to be inevitable. 

And these piles of paper didn’t turn out to be meaningless, after all, because you’ve given them the honor of your gaze. The thought of tomorrow exhausts me to no end. But it is of much lighter weight, with your smile hanging at the corner of my eyes. 

If anyone should ask what my mumbling is for, I thank you for taking these words into consideration. They are now in your hands. 

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A Review of Floy Quintos’ Grace by Natalia Go

They believed. And I did, too.

A review of Grace by Floy Quintos, directed by Dexter M. Santos.

MILD SPOILERS AHEAD!

Last night, I watched Grace for the second time on its supposed last show date, and it was as marvelous as the first. The final masterpiece of playwright and director Floy Quintos. 

With a skeletal set, barely any props, and almost nothing but pure talent on and off stage, this piece was an unexpected treat for me—an atheist. That I enjoyed a religious drama says a lot about this production. It did not change my beliefs. It did not pull me back into the Catholic church but brought my faith back to the arts, perhaps again. Perhaps I lost it somewhere along the way as an actor and director who has been in the audience seat for far too long. 

To be honest, the heavy narration put me off at first. It started with an exposition of the supposed apparitions of the Virgin Mary to the Carmelite sisters in Lipa, Batangas, and a series of monologues about the fictionalized events. I was almost certain I would fall asleep. But then, the magic happened all too soon. There was an unmistakable genius in Dexter M. Santos’ direction of this play—from manipulating the barebones set through masterful blocking, lights, and music to the complete trust in the cast’s ability to tell this story with what little tools they had and the delicate guidance of a virtuoso. And I was in awe, as was every audience member on both nights, with a full house and standing ovation. 

The story revolved around and ended with a shower of petals from the sky—rose petals that healed, absolved, and converted. Was it a trick? The work of the devil? Or the result of an “overactive imagination,” as the men of the church accused Sister Teresita, the Carmelite novice who brought upon these divine mysteries through the Mother Mediatrix of All Grace? I am not inclined to draw conclusions as a non-religious. 

I am prepared, however, to recommend this play to anyone who wants an out-of-this-world experience of the performing arts, with no reservations. Grace by Floy Quintos has been extended until June 23rd at the Power Mac Center’s Blackbox Theater in Circuit Makati. 

See it for yourself, and I guarantee you will believe. 

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My First Art Event. Patrons of the Arts: Originals

This July!!! I will be at the Patrons of the Arts: Originals, where I will be showcasing my artwork and original merchandise. It will be my very first art market event, so I hope you can come and support me! 

You can also get copies of my poetry books, “Garden of Dreams” and “You Send Me to the Stars.” 

Please join me at Centris Elements on July 6-7 (Sat-Sun) from 10 am – 8 pm. More details coming soon! 

~

Patrons of the Arts (POTA) is a platform for art creators and consumers. Empowering Filipino Artists.

Visit their page below:

https://www.facebook.com/PatronsOfTheArtsPH

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Tourists in the City of Spirits

We climbed the narrow stairways
to the city of spirits
with the winding alleyways
of little shops and rooms filled with teas.
The sky was blue, but above us
were bright balls of red
lit with gold and yellow lights
that glowed across the roads and spread.
My feet were sore, but up we went
to more flights of stairs,
and on the landing, we were read
our fortunes by some unknown friends.

Familiar tunes played, and all around
were faces we have seen
from stories we have known together
on the big and little screens.
By twilight, we were comforted
by soft, frozen sticky treats
topped with peanuts to the brim;
we were far removed from grim.
And all the little huts were filled
with trinkets, trims, and gems.
We wanted them all in our luggage home,
and take we did and on we roamed.

The moon was peeking at the turn
to the colorful emporium
where music played for weary tourists
who wanted a piece of the magic.
As we picked our last keepsakes,
I saw you smiling with your eyes.
Grief was far, and in my heart,
you brought me right back to the start.
It was quiet on the bus
as we looked out to bid farewell.
And even now, we see it all;
by and by, we’ll heed its call.

Tourists in the City of Spirits
February 24, 2024

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The Colors of the Subatomic Spaces Between Us

I’ve ascertained the exact point
in time
when everything that ever brought
wonder and awe into this world
was in my hands.
The moment
summed up in a sigh;
the nod before I almost
drifted
into dreams,
I saw it.
Your hand in mine,
and the sound of nothing
but our breaths.
All was clear.

The culmination
of all the sweat we’ve sweated
while apart,
in that moment,
I saw how foolish
my fears were.
There is nothing stronger
than the force
that becomes us
if we but stop to recognize it.
The highways come
to a standstill.
The railways bend
and air traffic halts
at the sight of our silhouette.

Don’t fret.
I have seen the inside
of the particles
that convinced us we are matter.
I saw the colors
of the subatomic spaces
between us,
and I guarantee
we are brighter than the stars.
We’re everywhere.
You and I,
we are the universe.
And we will always
find our way
back to that sigh.

The Colors of the Subatomic Spaces Between Us
December 23, 2023

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Every Sweet Return

Sometimes, passion is wrapped

around silence.

And fervor is weaved into the veins

of steady breathing.

There is music in the stillness,

and love

in quiet conversations

about the affairs of the day.

The comings and goings

of the familiar,

and the multitudes

of sighs, grunts, and huffs

about the world outside. 

Broken only

by the divine moments

of little pecks,

an embrace so tight

until the other dozes off. 

Afternoons of nothings

with the beloved

are adventures into the realm

of their thoughts.

We travel through connection,

learning how they want their sheets

draped around their body;

the exact volume

of white noise

that makes them comfortable. 

Merrily, we swim 

into the waters we learn

to call home,

where we drop our anchors

in every sweet return. 

Every Sweet Return

October 26, 2023

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If I Could Bottle the Entire Universe

If I could bottle

the entire universe

to show you the magnitude

of your touch’s impact

on everything that breathes

when it lands on me,

perhaps you will understand

how the colors

in the visible spectrum

came to be, 

and how

those still unseen

somehow appear

in humanly wavelengths

when you smile. 

🌏

Who could name them

but the angels

who witness their nature;

how they collide and form

new hues

yet unknown

each time a sigh

escapes your breath?

And how the warmth

from your body

creates life

in dying soils. 

They told me the name

by which they call you,

known to no other. 

🌏

But the universe

and all the colors—seen

and unseen

in the physical spectrum

would not suffice

to show you how your presence

creates the ripples

of love

undulating in the tiniest

quarks…How necessary,

how urgent

your heartbeats are

to hold the world

as we know it

together. 

🌏

If I Could Bottle the Entire Universe

September 28, 2023