Call of the Blood
To document is to die. To document is to star in a Death Wish remake. To document is to be castrated by a blunt tool. To document is to be put in an ostracizer. To document is to be a born again Moslem. To document is to be hard-boiled. To document is to be a rotten egg. To document is to carry an egg till you’re bloated. To document is to carry rat eggs. To document is to catch rats for two hundred pesos a pop, dead or alive. To document is to be weighed and found wanted. To document is to be lost. To document is to be lost again. To document is to be assisted by ghosts. To document is to find an accomplice in a suicide taxi. To document is to be confused with enlightenment. To document is to be judged by your first and last frames. To document is to suffer mediocrity every day. To document is to behead the enemy tribe. To document is to swim in fatty mayonnaise. To document is to misspell exit. To document is to wear your underwear on your head. To document is to crucify and be crucified. To document is to be in the wrong place at the right time. To document is to spew blasphemies at all the gods. To document is to copy all the copiers. To document is to be unoriginal at all costs. To document is to ride the wayward cloud. To document is to sink in maggot cheese. To document is to kill baby roaches in one slap. To document is to fictionalize, To document is to fantasize. To document is to fabulate. To document is to masturbate. To document is to reinvent the wheel. To document is to falsify your passport. To document is to plagiarize. To document is to graduate with a fake diploma. To document is to exercise futility at every corner. To document is to prove yourself over and over again. To document is to prove yourself wrong. To document is to repeat rinsing until you run out of soap. To document is to stare at your dripping blood. To document is to pretend music does not exist. To document is to be banned from breathing. To document is to hack at jungle shadows. To document is to mythologize. To document is to fuck lore. To document is to to play in saxophone heaven. To document is to be a brainless typewriter. To document is to lose your dignity like the best whore. To document is to not kiss on the lips. To document is to predict the next line. To document is to fail without faltering. To document is to succeed in endings. To document is to have faith in the overrated. To document is die for the underrated. No one has to see anything. The sea murmurs for you to come near so it can drown your little head in its embrace. Brace yourself. The great void is overwhelming, like never before, like always. Nothing is still new under the red sun. A loop awaits you at every turn. Blind murder of stale blood. Nosferatu barfs on your porcelain face with doll semen. If you can’t understand everything, don’t explain anything. This is savage futurama. This is barbaric vastness. The concrete and the abstract are the same tropical banana. Buy now, cryptocurrency to the moon. Blood is thicker than the soup of the day. Soup number six six six. Russian roulette is the dance of the year. Calamari deepfried in buffalo intestine. The long and low of it. A trash bag full of holes, dripping integrity by the second. Lost colors stomp, strong, skronk. Lick those rib bones with your cannibal fetish. Gaming is a dead skate. Mythologique fantastique featuring crabs versus corn. Empty is full is half is a quarter thigh. Lethargic garbanzos looking for misplaced cables. The unconverted converters of the electric church that chicken built on sand posts. Don’t stop till the mad doctor says Achtung, Gesudheit, Heil stones squeezing your balls. Halt! Dry as malt. Stand up to be a discounted comic. Prayers for the last day. Dress your best for the audience underneath the earth. Always falling. Always failing. Up always looks down and vice versa. Still can’t breathe properly. Bubbles salivating upwards. Smash the academic aquarium with your bare fists. Bring back Bruce Lee from the dead. Unique is an abused selling proposition. Everything is old under the moon. The sun has been dead for billions of years. Meanwhile a boy cries. Food is a luxury. Our government is full of fools. The country never gets what it deserves. Frame by frame, things don’t change. Fate has left the building. An apple a day teases worms away, sharpening their teeth every day. A columbarium for your thoughts. Another page of wasted words. Drink ink to lose weight. Still can’t pronounce certain letters of the alphabet. Create your own letters. Different words for the same meaning. Clash of sound and image. Clash of intent and effect. Clash of wisdom and teeth. Birdbrain. Oxbrain. Monkeybrain. Exotic food for your epiphanies and malnourished dreams. Type with your bare knuckles. Decipher the aorta of your love. Longer is better. And you hit the right note without meaning to. The world applauds before crumbling. One stone for each tome. A library of storms for the illiterate. Cinema reclaimed for big businesses. Better to sink in the deepest sea. How to be God’s greatest whore. Capture the moment as it is. Manipulation as sin. Priests named capital and venial. Everything is a love poem. Everything is a horror story. Everything is a whodunnit. A documentary is nothing. It deals with the Great Nothing. Accept it or die. Reincarnation is for vermin. Choose your favorite pest. At this point meaning is unnecessary. The most important question to answer is where the nearest toilet is. Gravel for your wine. The secret is in the structure.
To secrete is to suck, last words of the vampire.
Khavn De La Cruz (also known as KHAVN) is a Filipino poet, singer, songwriter, pianist and filmmaker. He is the founder and festival director of MOV International Film, Music and Literature Festival. Considered the father of Philippine digital filmmaking, Khavn has made 47 features and 112 short films since 1994.