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  • Hi! my name is Aiko. In this blog are poetry, and pastel, and pink cute things.


Introduction
Aiko Lactaotao is a rare fat Asian specimen, a writer with the artistic temperament of a sloth, and the world's youngest elderly lady. A sleep-deprived Law Student, she still squeezes in time to blog about her passions which include books, reading the Classics, Fin-de-Siecle, Decadent literature, modernist, post-modernist, post post-modernist, experimental fiction, poetry, creative writing, linguistics, lexicography, philosophy of language, phenomenology, philosophy of mind, philosophy of law, criminal law, constitutional law, torts and damages, intellectual property law, public international law, Biblical exegesis, avantgarde films, collecting obscure, foreign, (mostly European, Asian, and Latin American) words, learning modern and ancient languages, and traveling the world whenever she has the budget.

About This Blog
This is a creative writing blog by a law student who'd rather travel the world and be a full-time writer if not for reality burying its fist up her ass and telling her she's not rich and that she needs to get a real job. Hence, the journey of a reluctant law student towards obtaining the Atty. title. When she's not moping around about how miserable being in law school is, she writes literary works that so far garnered compliments ranging from "Are you on drugs?" to "I'd like to have some of what you're smoking." Still, she's hoping that these seemingly outlandish writings of hers will eventually be able to land a book deal. Aside from writing, she is a voracious reader, currently owning around 300 or so books. In fact, she is infamous around the post-office because every other week a parcel or package of books arrives there for her to claim. As of the moment there are still 175 titles on her wishlist. She will not stop reading and writing and dreaming, law school can survive on its own; whatever happens, the aim remains the same: to become a full-pledged author.

Favorite Books
Saturday, December 10, 2016 | December 10, 2016 |
Never Generation

Youth I am not
I said

a maudlin sentiment
in protest
of my generation

how their
vainglorious
look-at-me
garish ways
reflective of a
nincompoop

and their petty
maundering and
atrocious patois
rankles me so

never my generation
I refuse to be part of

rather am I
given
to my effulgent
dreams fraught
with hope for
dismantling
what this world
has come to
possess in the
form of
sporadic morals

basking in a
dicey outlook
for this
never generation
of which
youth I am not

my lips are open
not
lest I be met
with paroxysyms
of laughter
and how they
jeer and point out
and scrutinize
previous flaws,
inconsistencies,
failures,
and big old crapulous me

as they exhaust
their empty
badinage

but blind I am not
and it is
quite limpid

that behind
the flashing smiles
the love of conformity,
digital adroitness,

lies a godless
and funereal
ideology of
anti-individuality

and forced tolerance
towards what is
blatantly wrong

it is the
skeleton behind
the proverbial closet
of this never generation

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