your silent cynicist

My aunt sent me a graphic novel

crispy-gypsy:

from the Philippines. She got her assistant to buy it, though, but I guess she told her “oh my niece likes drawing ‘n’ shit, get her some comics.” Anyroad, I really like the art, it looks like it has some kind of an awesome storyline, sort of grungy, urban fantasy mixed in with Filipino traditional folklore and slum culture. The only problem is?

It’s completely in Tagalog.

I was born in the Philippines but I can’t understand a damn word.

Tagalog syntax is really different from English, so Google translate isn’t much of a help either. I was complaining about it, and my dad, bless his heart, was like “read it out loud, and I’ll tell you what it means.”

I used the excuse that I couldn’t read tagalog properly (I can read the words decently, actually—enough tagalog karaoke helped with that, along with the fact that I think it’s a beautiful language, even if I can’t understand it). The real reason is because I don’t think I really want to read this sort of comic with my dad.

Like…seriously. I don’t have a relationship with my dad that wouldn’t make me feel awkward.

The art and text is freakishly familiar. I remember running into a Filipino comic book artist who was launching his own series about Filipino mythology; I believe the cover was red, black and white. Anyways; your aunt probably thought it is a good read, and it probably is.

You could at least try and hang with your dad. He is reaching out to you. Just try.

(Source: crispy-ghee)