Julian Canlas


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Creative Writing

Of that society

of fish-scaled rooftops, of houses as gold, of rusty shopfronts, of tattooed buildings, of matte surroundings, of retail mayhem in Christmas, of customers hanging their clothes inside-out, of customers who treat waiters like unshelled lobsters, of caretakers cleaning you-know-what, of teachers dealing with juvenile shit, of under-appreciated youth, of fishing for compliments, of train-watching from…

Creative Writing, OldVenue

Creative Writing: Drunken Liturgy

The process of drinking is like liturgy. The absinthe: 90% alcohol, the rest, a whisper within the liquid, ‘get drunk’. Whenever the church overflows with folks recently churned out of the city-belly, you sit by the candlelit bar drinking dirty booze. You confess your sins to the bartender and the rumbling drunk. The alcohol courses…

Creative Writing, OldVenue

The Dream of Writing

The first word came out on a limb, its meaning perforating the paper like a hiss, the letters written in a drunken haze. The first word was not like the first stroke of a painter, who already has a vision of reality in their mind like a biologist buttoning on their coat to begin the…

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