We Are The Company of The Nameless and Lonely And They Tell Us We Are Depressed


We are floating on the sea with arms spread in a gesture of surrendering ourselves to the heavens. Our eyes are fixed at the patches of blue sky above. There are sailing boats around us, but there is no wind, they are still and meaningless. The men manning them have hollow, empty sockets for eyes. But they never wish to see; they only want to wait for the wind, and we do not exist to them.

We have descended the sky once, twice, countless times in our lives. Each time we descend, a scar marks our skin. We are vagabonds belonging to nowhere, but we are everywhere. We have learned to arrange and re-arrange our lives in silence. We have created a chasm between our souls and every soul around us. We are nameless in a dreamy state. The world crucified our sanity; our crosses are standing erect on a melancholic hill. We devour loneliness like hungry beasts. Our names are carved on every tree we burn. We are a thick forest, verdant deep inside, throbbing with life. But our head a vast canopy of branches blocking the sun.

We burned every tree inside of us where we carved our names. Our feet are manacled but our chains and balls are light as a feather, heavy as the storm. This way, we travel with them inconspicuously.

I kept my childhood in a jar. I burried it near a Neem tree beside our house. I only remember my name when I have to, so oftentimes I walk nameless. I am empty and heavy at the same time. But I am not alone, I am in the company of nameless, lonely faces. Unobtrusively blended in the crowd, I mask my own despair like every one else whose feet are manacled in Silence. Always in silence.


(in order of appearance)

painting, acrylic on canvas by Clyde Laudato
poetry, We Are The Company of The Nameless and Lonely And They Tell Us We Are Depressed
by April Noellie Armilla
painting, Lampaso Ashtray, acrylic on canvas by Keso
painting, Kabinet, acrylic on canvas by Keso
© The Panagtagbo. Base codes by Fearne. Tweaks by AMC