Frances MM Rebollido

desk
atlas WIP
texts
lens
illus. WIP
mood cinema

View all experimental-visual experiences of some of my writing, in a continuous stack.












︎   ︎  ︎
© Frances Margaret Rebollido 2018-2024





2024


25082405 (wallpaper of...) 08.25
25082404 (...chamois) 08.25
25082403 (whose house) 08.25
25082402 (in a dream...) 08.25
25082401 (Kömorebi) 08.25
29062401 (ocean swirling ...) 06.29
29062403 (tripping under ...) 06.29
29062405 (where does love ...) 06.29
29062404 (dreaming on ...) 06.29
29062402 (memories of ...) 06.29
tiny man to you 04.25
Montmartre casualty 02.17


2023


light material 12.08
Your subliminal stories...  11.16
suffering from socks  11.16
a place above my shelf 10.21
i only felt good in the afternoon 10.21
bozocorp 01.23


2022


second life 08.28
ant visit 08.04
mantra 07.23
lens 04.24
season of depression 03.24
turning 30 01.22


2021


work flows 10.20
a time in my life 08.03
ocean thoughts 06.10
no dogs and a rainbow 05.23
malinao twilight 05.02
malinao sunrise walks 03.21
after a meditation, new in the island 02.19


2020


undelivered 12.18
sinker wave 05.29
life’s like that 05.29
white noise 05.29
the comedy of mania 05.29


2019


Howl derive 12.27
photographer 02.19
love letter to the sky while in tokyo 02.18


2018


of 2018 12.31
love spelt itself out 11.10
accountability, dead watson 11.10
a line 10.28
ang tindera maldita 07.01
pain, pain 02.19
shibuya 02.05


2017


little maddening 12.11
self coaching 12.10
daze for days 11.26
inbetween 11.19
cool electric 11.06
heavy nights 10.29
A. Lopez street 10.23
sigarilyo sa kadlawn 10.21
It took five pages 10.08
it’s temporary 10.05
progress report 10.02
clouds for mountains 09.26
monster 09.19
moving on 09.08
cloud 08.28
i am realizing that 08.25
breather 08.21
mean drugs 08.18
funk on some esum 08.14
allusions to a diary 08.14
punctuation 08.06
amber waves (an ode to beer) 07.29
watching planes 07.02
dire nights 06.18
change by loss 06.07
good work 05.22
asleep, most lovable 02.14
cheers darlin’ 02.14

2016


sweater in a dream 11.04
baby driver 11.04
i‘m writing 08.16
blond I-III 08.08
drunk on the moon 06.18
oyster or hell 06.17
the peaks and the folds 06.13
coltrane’s after the rain 06.12

2015


there is rain behind 08.04
between flesh 04.16
flakes of burning 04.16
family prayer before meal 03.12

2014


thunderstorms 10.01
for the taking 09.20
smoke around 08.15
radiohead 08.06

2013


oh woman 03.23

2012


suppress 10.23
perks 08.17
Life 08.03
moving colors 06.27
no rhymes 06.09
beads of light 05.25
soliloquy 05.25
hunger dreams 04.30
white steed 04.12
condition your mind 02.27
time 02.20
Home 02.18
as i read the house of leaves 02.12
cracked 01.27
a litter of metaphors 01.24
!cutter 01.24
here’s how 01.13
a note on style 01.10
about Facebook 01.08
feet on my hands 01.06

2011


on technology 12.30
red tape 12.30
!ideation 11.02
edge of desire 07.14
dome of blue 06.15
hermit confessions 05.18
infidelity 05.09
keep the faith 04.29

2009


monologue i 11.01
if only 10.31
the price we pay 10.28
please be safe 10.26
bipolar 10.20


hermit confessions

To the people I left behind.

It’s in moments like this that I fancy all the memories I had of all the other people in my life, other than the one solitary figure I’ve resigned myself to sticking with, these past months. The people I call my friends I admit I’ve now lost. I knew it was all coming down to this. No other ending could have been granted to continual dismissal of communication or any signs of concern. It’s not that I’ve stopped caring. It’s not that I suddenly couldn’t remember. At random times of the day I still do happen to reflect on some names and adjectives and mistakes and a few shared jokes. It usually feels like catching fleeting glances at windows into oddly familiar territories that you pass by on languid bus rides. But it feels too much like looking at a stranger’s life’s reruns. Other times, though, I allow myself to dwell longer in those cesspools of old acquaintances and lost ties. It’s a strange feeling, knowing how different life was back then. The spontaneity of it all. The life I had before I chose to build the invisible walls. It was a long process and I didn’t think I could make it, but I guess I already had it in me to be able to survive without having a safe number of people around, and that was what I quickly found to be true. Trust me, though, when I say that muting myself out from substantial friendships isn’t as easy as I seem to be showing. But the choice that won over me was one that didn’t involve other people becoming too disappointed at my lack of consistency for showing any regard. I’ve always had trouble keeping close contact with people. Any signs of a growing emotional connection is something I never learned to deal with, which is why all the friendships I’ve ever had were all maintained by alternating bursts of openness and withdrawal. I know where it comes from but that’s another story. The point is, having someone I need to be committed to requires a lot of struggle. I couldn’t possibly be committed to someone because I keep changing my attention to different people. And I’m trying to make amends with that fact by reducing the number of people accessible for giving attention to, into just one. I am able to make this choice by knowing that I am not something to be missed. Removing myself from the map does not mean that I was repulsed by it, only that I wish to be left out of the drama.