Babaylan
Album Concept: A Babaylan protagonist walks between timelines, spirits, and broken nations. Ancestral electronica, healing chants, trance rhythms. She is a transgender Matriarch and holds a space of leadership and respect. Not in the past. In the near future in the Phillipines. This album, even though it is a mere demo, is exactly the kind of disruptive culture TATANKA progmatically models, a spiritual and sonic reclamation in this case.
“Healing is never linear, but it is never in vain.”
— Mikaela Lucido, Filipina writer born in Manila, reflecting on intergenerational trauma and resilience
In the heart of the Philippines’ pre-colonial past and its imagined techno-spiritual future, a powerful figure reawakens — the Babaylan. Babaylan: Return to the Future is more than a music album. It’s a ritual performance, a political act, a spiritual reclaiming, and a cultural revival. This ancestral trance opera introduces Dayawlan, a transgender Babaylan Matriarch, who walks between timelines, stitching together fragments of a fractured world. The themes explored — trans identity as sacred, the healing power of ritual art, and the decolonial reclamation of Indigenous knowledge — form the core of this multidisciplinary project. Set in the Philippines of 2042, ravaged by climate change and colonial residue, Dayawlan offers not escape, but a return — not backward, but inward and forward. Each element of the album — sound, language, myth, and aesthetic — is meticulously chosen to honor the past and radicalize the future. This essay explores three core subtopics: the sacred role of the Babaylan and transgender identity; the decolonial power of language, sound, and ritual; and the intersection of queer futurism and indigenous memory.
The Babaylan, central figures in pre-colonial Philippine society, were spiritual leaders, healers, and wisdom keepers — many of whom defied gender binaries. Far from being outcasts, their gender-fluid identities were perceived as sources of spiritual strength, embodying the cosmic balance of masculine and feminine. The role of the Babaylan was multifaceted: they presided over births, deaths, planting seasons, and healing rituals. In many coastal and mountain communities, these figures were revered as intermediaries between the natural world, the ancestral realm, and human society. Their authority was rooted in both cosmological knowledge and communal trust. The Babaylan were not marginal — they were central. This historical reverence for gender-diverse spiritual leaders sets the foundation for understanding how Babaylan: Return to the Future repositions transgender identity as sacred rather than stigmatized.
Dayawlan, the central figure in the opera, is not merely a character — she is a vessel of memory and myth. She is introduced as “She Who Holds the Sacred Thread,” a being that merges binary and nonbinary realities, walking between spirit and code. Through her, the album proclaims that “Trans is sacred,” a declaration that rejects Western notions of deviance and instead reclaims indigeneity as affirmation. Her presence is quiet but commanding; she doesn’t rule by domination but by remembrance. This portrayal is particularly radical in today’s global context, where trans lives are often politicized, persecuted, or erased. In Dayawlan’s embodiment, trans identity is not explained, justified, or debated — it is sanctified. The album thus reframes transgender being as not only valid but necessary for spiritual and cultural transformation.
While rooted in the Filipino Babaylan tradition, the figure of the transgender spiritual leader is not unique to the archipelago. Two-Spirit people in many Native North American cultures, Hijras in South Asia, and Māhū in Hawai‘i and Tahiti represent parallel traditions where gender fluidity and sacred roles are intertwined. What Babaylan: Return to the Future contributes is a futuristic lens through which these ancient archetypes are not just preserved, but activated. Dayawlan embodies this activation — a response to a wounded Earth and a fragmented society. Her emergence suggests that healing on a planetary scale requires the guidance of those who embody the thresholds. In this way, the album both honors and expands indigenous gender cosmologies.
Choosing Hiligaynon as the primary language of the opera is both a poetic and political act. Spoken across Panay, Negros, and parts of Mindanao, Hiligaynon is one of the mother tongues of the Babaylan tradition. Its soft, musical quality — described as “malambing” — carries ancestral resonance that cannot be replicated in colonial languages. By refusing English or Tagalog translation, the album challenges audiences to engage with the work on its own cultural and linguistic terms. This use of a regional language revives silenced voices and restores oral traditions disrupted by centuries of Western dominance. It is an invitation to remember, not just intellectually, but viscerally — through cadence, breath, and sound.
Each track in the album is not a song but a ritual act, guided by specific BPM (84), tuning (432 Hz in D Minor), and binaural frequency (4.5 Hz). These choices were not arbitrary. They reflect research into frequencies used for meditative trance, emotional regulation, and ancestral connection. Tracks like “Mangagamot.exe” and “Balik-Loob” are designed to create altered states of consciousness where healing — both emotional and intergenerational — becomes possible. Ambient recordings of rain, river, and forest textures are combined with kulintang gongs, vocoded chants, and glitchy spirit samples. The music itself becomes the medicine, bridging ancient practice and futuristic form. This approach places the listener in the position of participant, not consumer.
Babaylan: Return to the Future disrupts the Western notion of art as performance for entertainment. Instead, it frames each track as a ceremony meant to be experienced, not applauded. The immersive use of sound, voice, and ritual pacing draws from indigenous performance styles, where the audience is not passive but included in the energy exchange. Ritual acts such as “Invocation,” “Matriarch Protocol: Activate,” and “New Moon on Manila Bay” echo traditional rites of awakening, leadership, and renewal. By embedding these ceremonial elements in a trance opera format, the album becomes a space of communal memory and spiritual re-patterning. It transforms music into resistance — an act of cultural survival and spiritual clarity.
While speculative and forward-facing, the album is deeply rooted in ancestral truths. This blending is the essence of queer futurism — the imagining of futures where marginalized identities are not only included, but centered as visionaries. The Philippines of 2042 in this project is not a techno-dystopia but a spiritually charged world attempting to recover its soul. The presence of Dayawlan is not about “saving” the future through control or war, but through listening, remembering, and singing the Earth back to balance. This vision is revolutionary: it argues that technology and indigeneity need not be oppositional, but can co-exist in harmony when guided by sacred ethics. Through this lens, Dayawlan becomes a prototype for postcolonial, postbinary leadership in the digital age.
Every detail of the project — from the descriptions of woven digital armor to underwater coral cathedrals — is designed to create a new mythos. This visual language is important in countering dominant images of Filipinos in global media, often shaped by poverty, servitude, or Western assimilation. Instead, this world is filled with beauty, power, and futurity. Dayawlan’s image — half-chanter, half-coder — reclaims Filipino indigeneity as modern and majestic. The use of neon tribal motifs, AI-assisted ancestral faces, and genderfluid trance bodies paints a rich, defiant portrait of possibility. It is a visual invitation to reimagine what leadership, healing, and identity can look like when freed from colonial scripts.
Perhaps the most radical act of the project is its refusal to place power in a single institution or figure. Dayawlan is a guide, not a ruler. The true power resides in the collective — in the queer youth she blesses, in the ancestral voices that rise from broken statues, and in the communities who dance in the streets with QR-coded sigils. The narrative arc of the album moves from awakening to uprising to inward return, suggesting that true revolution is always cyclical. It begins and ends in spirit. This decentralized, spirit-led model of cultural transformation offers a sharp contrast to the top-down power structures of both empire and modern statehood. It reclaims story as sovereignty.
Babaylan: Return to the Future is not just a musical project — it is a political act, a spiritual invocation, and a cultural prophecy. Through the sacred embodiment of Dayawlan, the album restores reverence for transgender identity as a divine, not deviant, expression of humanity. Through its use of Hiligaynon, ritual sound, and healing frequencies, it decolonizes not only language but perception. Through its blend of queer futurism and indigenous memory, it paints a future that is both radical and grounded. These subtopics — sacred gender archetypes, decolonial art, and spiritual futurism — come together as a unified vision of return. Not to the past, but to the self. Not to nostalgia, but to the sacred thread. In Dayawlan’s words: “I am not in between—I am beyond. I am the path, the portal, the promise.”
Zalma had always known her voice could move wind. In the lowlands of Guyana where she was born, elders whispered that her hums could stir the leaves before a storm. But no one spoke her name with reverence, not after she came out. Assigned male at birth, she chose her name at fifteen — Zalma, “peace after conflict” in a forgotten dialect of the interior. It was not just a name, but a reclamation. When her mother wept and her mosque expelled her, Zalma disappeared from the village and began the long road to elsewhere.
She roamed through cities that didn’t know what to make of her: too femme to be safe, too dark to be visible, too spiritual to be secular. For a time, she made peace singing on subway platforms in Montreal, covering old Tamil lullabies she’d found in her partner’s playlists, fusing them with gospel and Afro-soul. She wasn’t trying to make a point. She was trying to stay alive. She looped her own harmonies in real-time, her voice bending into a prayer only the lost could hear.
It was at a queer arts festival in Oaxaca that someone slipped her a QR code. No explanation, just the image and a whisper: “They’re building something. For people like you. For tomorrow.” When she scanned it later that night, tired and unsure, she found herself on the site for TATANKA’s Orchestra Americana. The concept hit her like the ghost of a hurricane — a transdisciplinary global orchestra centering the voices of those pushed to the margins. “Matriarchal. Futurist. Spirit-forward,” the page read. It felt like prophecy.
Zalma submitted a demo under a pseudonym — an original composition blending indigenous Garífuna chants, the Quranic surahs she’d memorized in childhood, and looped bird calls recorded in her dreams. She expected silence. What she received instead was a video call request, where a warm, nonjudgmental face asked her: “Would you like to help us sing the world back together?” She cried for the first time in years.
Joining TATANKA’s Orchestra Americana was nothing like she expected. There were no auditions in cold rooms, no gatekeepers to impress. Instead, there were ceremonies. Digital circles where artists introduced not just their talents, but their scars, their rituals, and their grandmothers’ recipes. Zalma felt awkward at first, not knowing where to place her pain amid all this beauty — until a disabled Syrian harpist shared a melody composed with only one hand, and a Two-Spirit Lakota flautist reminded her: “You don’t need to fit. You already belong.”
Her first composition with the ensemble was called “Between Worlds,” a 12-minute sonic offering where her voice modulated between call to prayer and techno lullaby. She sampled sounds of rice cooking, a preacher shouting on a cracked radio, and her late aunt’s funeral keening — then wove them into a trance rhythm in D minor. Her section of the orchestra included a Buddhist beatboxer from Queens, a Mapuche throat singer, and an AI entity named ANIMA who only spoke in weather patterns and wind chimes. Zalma didn’t understand it all. She didn’t need to.
What moved her most was the way her voice was not just allowed, but necessary. There were moments when the music seemed to collapse into itself, like the world was too much to bear — but it was her tone, her sustained note across an impossible frequency, that guided it back. She wasn’t just filling space. She was anchoring memory. She was the thread.
One night, after a live VR performance from a repurposed sugar plantation in Louisiana, Zalma sat alone beneath a banyan tree whose roots were embedded with copper circuit-fibers. A young girl approached her — dark-skinned, trans, eyes full of galaxies — and said, “I didn’t know we could do this. I thought people like us only got written out of the songs.” Zalma knelt, took her hand, and whispered, “We are the song.”
Zalma’s story reminds us that reclamation is not just about being heard — it is about being centered in the orchestration of what comes next. In a world that has historically muted marginalized voices, platforms like TATANKA’s Orchestra Americana do not merely offer inclusion. They offer transformation. For Zalma, and countless others, music is not just sound. It is survival, ceremony, and sovereignty.
We must imagine futures where the broken are not pitied, but exalted — where the outcast becomes the oracle. Zalma sings not because she was given permission, but because the Earth remembers her voice. The next world will not be built by those in power, but by those once denied it — composing a collective hymn of rebirth, resonance, and radiant defiance.
Given the album’s role as a healing ritual, especially with tracks like “Mangagamot.exe,” “Balik-Loob,” and “Invocation,” the frequency should entrain the listener toward deep integration and spiritual receptivity.
The album needs to ground the sacred feminine and ancestral earth memory.
The BPM should allow for:
Much research and thought was put into the selection of the lyrics’ language so they are fitting, contextual, and poetry on multiple levels. I selected Hiligaynon.
The Babaylan is most strongly associated with Visayan societies, especially in the central islands of Panay, Negros, and Iloilo, where Hiligaynon is spoken. These were communities where female spiritual leaders, often gender-fluid or third-gender, held immense social and spiritual power before colonization, and yes, there intentionally is NO English translation for that very reason – it would be antithetical.
Choosing Hiligaynon:
Hiligaynon is known across the Philippines as a gentle, musical, and poetic language. Often called “malambing” (tender, soft-spoken), ideal for the tone of this project:
In sonic terms, it carries well in song, especially with ambient textures and ancestral instrumentation. Its cadence supports repetition, elongation, and sacred phrasing.
This album is not just music – it’s ceremony, resistance, and healing. Choosing Hiligaynon:
It’s a stand for diverse Filipina identities, beyond the narratives often shaped by Manila or the West.
Hiligaynon is not a dead or esoteric tongue. It is:
Choosing it means our Babaylan protagonist is not mythic alone. She is real, breathing in the same words as today’s Ilonggo children.
For many diasporic Filipinos, hearing Hiligaynon:
In this futuristic context, it becomes the language of renewal, a tongue not just remembered, but reborn.
Hiligaynon is the language of the river, the dream, the womb, the chant, and the light. It is the perfect voice for a transgender matriarch, stepping between time, spirit, and nation. Not invented. Not imposed. Inherited. Remembered. Reclaimed.
She/They: A Transgender Babaylan Matriarch
Dayawlan is the most fitting name for her:
“Some say she was born when the river first learned to dream. Others say she arrived from the future, wrapped in lightning and lullabies. But all agree—Dayawlan did not begin, and she will not end. She returns.”
Dayawlan is the living echo of the Babaylan, reborn in a time that forgot her.
She walks not with feet, but with memory.
She speaks in Hiligaynon, the language of lullabies and resistance, woven into the soil of the islands.
She is 38, not old, yet her gaze holds wars that were never recorded, rituals whispered under empire, and children yet to come.
Her body is a map—tattooed by stars, encoded in song, breathing in binary and blood.
In her presence, the volcano hushes. The storm waits.
She is half-coder, half-chanter—her hands both a keyboard and a kulintang.
She remembers names that were erased, chants that were silenced, and truths buried beneath churches, spreadsheets, and shame.
She does not speak to conquer. She speaks to remind.
“She wears no crown, but when she raises her hand, the spirits line up like constellations.”
Some call her trans, but she laughs gently, saying,
“I am not in between—I am beyond. I am the path, the portal, the promise.”
In 2042, the world is fractured.
But Dayawlan does not fix it—she listens to it, sings to it, and teaches others to do the same.
To some, she is a myth.
To others, she is the midwife of the world to come.
And to those who kneel in fear, she offers not punishment but a whisper:
“Rise. Remember. Begin again.”
The Philippines, 2042. Ravaged by climate change, political upheaval, and cultural fragmentation, but the land is whispering, and the old spirits stir. Amid the wreckage, a transgender Babaylan Matriarch emerges. She walks between timelines, weaving past and future, spirit and silicon, to birth a new collective dream.
She is not a ghost of the past, but the midwife of tomorrow.
Each track is a ritual act, building a ceremonial journey.
Theme: Reawakening
Narrative: In the dark silence of a broken land, the sacred river stirs. Dayawlan, a Transgender Babaylan Matriarch, returns, cloaked in memory and moonlight.
Lyric Themes: Memory, water, rebirth, calling
Text-to-Music Prompt: [Female Voice] Key: D Minor, 84 BPM, Ambient field recordings of flowing water, distant thunder, analog hiss, and soft chant loops. Layered whispers, echoing into the past and future.
[Sung in Hiligaynon]
Intro
Sa ilom sang kangitngit
Sa putling hilum sang duta
Naghibi ang hangin
Ginbantala ang pagbakli
Verse 1
Naga-uyat pa ang suba sang handum
Sa tagsa nga luhà sang kalibutan
Ginapukaw sang tubig ang una nga tingog
Nga ginlubong sang kasaysayan
Verse 2
May aninag sa mga alon
Mga hulag sang una nga babaylan
Ginpanumbalik sa lunang nga bulawan
Ang mga ngalan nga ginpahamtang sang bulan
Chorus
Balik, Suba nga Balaan
Gintawag ka sang katawhan
Ang tingog mo – panumbalik
Ang kadayawan mo – pagbanhaw
Verse 3
Ginalaga ang buasdamlag sa kinabuhi
Ginsudlan sang espiritu nga ginpanumdum
Ang tubig nagdala sang kalinong
Apang may kutob nga ginatago
Verse 4
Ginpanumbalik sang baha ang panumpa
Ginhalok sang suba ang mga dulunan
Ang babaylan nagsaylo liwat
Nagdalagan sa agos sang panumduman
Chorus
Balik, Suba nga Balaan
Gintawag ka sang katawhan
Ang tingog mo – panumbalik
Ang kadayawan mo – pagbanhaw
Bridge
Diin mo ako dal-on, Suba nga may tinago?
Sa diin ang panimuot nagahalin
Sa tubig, sa hutik, sa palad
Gintawag ako… sa ngalan sang kahapon
Chorus
Balik, Suba nga Balaan
Gintawag ka sang katawhan
Ang tingog mo – panumbalik
Ang kadayawan mo – pagbanhaw
Chorus
Balik, Suba nga Balaan
Gintawag ka sang katawhan
Ang tingog mo – panumbalik
Ang kadayawan mo – pagbanhaw
Outro
Ginpatunga ako sang kahapon kag buwas
Sa tunga sang agos, nagpanumbalik ang tanan
Ang suba, ang babaylan, ang bulan
Naghiusa sa isa ka hutik nga wala sang katapusan
Theme: Earth-Body Connection
Narrative: The volcano’s heartbeat echoes in her blood. Dayawlan, a Transgender Babaylan Matriarch, aligns herself with the deep drum of Gaia.
Lyric Themes: Creation, power, body as sacred land
Text-to-Music Prompt: [Female Voice] Key: D Minor, 84 BPM, Polyrhythmic kulintang and tribal percussion over trance-inducing basslines; heartbeat motifs pulse with ambient synths.
[Sung in Hiligaynon]
Intro
May hungit sa ilawod sang bato
Ang kalayo naga-uyat sang kinabuhi
Ang babayi, naga-tindog nga bukid
Ginabati ang pagginhawa sang kalibutan
Chorus
Tupa sang bukid, tupa sang taguangkan
Ikaw ang ginhawa sang Inang Kalibutan
Nagahiliusa, nagauban
Sa tuno sang kalayo kag ulan
Verse 1
Sa taguangkan, may ginapamati
Isa ka tupa nga daw kulintang
Bisan wala pa nabuhi ang pulong
May gahum na sa pagpanagtag
Verse 2
Ang dugo nagahugpong sa lahar
Ginaubay ang pagpanghibalo
Ginatawag siya sang kinaugalingon
Ginabatian sa lawas ang kalayo
Chorus
Tupa sang bukid, tupa sang taguangkan
Ikaw ang ginhawa sang Inang Kalibutan
Nagahiliusa, nagauban
Sa tuno sang kalayo kag ulan
Verse 3
Ang mga ugat sang yuta
Amo man ang iya mga ugat
Ang tupa sang bulkan
Amo man ang tupa sang taguangkan
Verse 4
Lawas nga ginlalang para sa gahum
Wala sang kahadlok, puno sang kahulugan
Ang babayi nga bukid
Nagahuyop sang pagtuo kag kabuhi
Chorus
Tupa sang bukid, tupa sang taguangkan
Ikaw ang ginhawa sang Inang Kalibutan
Nagahiliusa, nagauban
Sa tuno sang kalayo kag ulan
Bridge
Ginkasumpong ko ang kahilum
Didto ko nabatian ang pinakauna nga tupa
Gikan sa sulod sang duta
Gikan sa akon taguangkan
Chorus
Tupa sang bukid, tupa sang taguangkan
Ikaw ang ginhawa sang Inang Kalibutan
Nagahiliusa, nagauban
Sa tuno sang kalayo kag ulan
Outro
Naga-anduyog ang kasakit kag kabuhi
Ang bulkan nga naga-idalum sa akon panit
Ang lawas ko amo man ang bukid
Nagatupa, nagapangabuhi, naga-ambit sang gahum
Theme: Confrontation
Narrative: Dayawlan, a Transgender Babaylan Matriarch, walks among ruins of colonialism – ghosts of empire, greed, and war. She doesn’t fight them; she reclaims what they stole.
Lyric Themes: Decolonization, truth-telling, ancestral rage
Text-to-Music Prompt: [Female Voice] Key: D Minor, 84 BPM, Dissonant glitch, distorted colonial hymns, sampled invocations from suppressed indigenous texts.
[Sung in Hiligaynon]
Intro
Sa gun-ob sang mga templo nga ginpatindog sang gahum
Ang hangin may dalá nga mga tinago
Nagapanikang-kang ang mga anino
Ginbalik ang mga tingog nga ginpahilum
Verse 1
Nagaapak siya sa lapok sang kasaysayan
Mga talaksan sang bulawan nga ginpangkuha
Sa idalom sang mga sapatos sang mga banyaga
Nagahilay ang mga tul-an sang ginpanghimaraut
Chorus
Ginbalik ko ang akon ngalan
Ginbawi ko ang akon duta
Wala ako ginkreasyon sang imperyo
Ako ang babaylan nga wala nagkalipat
Verse 2
May mga tingog sa data smoke
Mga ngalan nga gin-erase sang simbahan
Ang babaylan wala nagaway
Ginbawi niya ang ginpangagaw sang mga mananakop
Chorus
Ginbalik ko ang akon ngalan
Ginbawi ko ang akon duta
Wala ako ginkreasyon sang imperyo
Ako ang babaylan nga wala nagkalipat
Verse 3
Wala siya nagdala sang espada
Ang iya kamot – kalayo, kamatuoran
Sa tagsa nga pagsulat sang mga kolonisador
Ginpasulabi niya ang hutik sang katigulangan
Chorus
Ginbalik ko ang akon ngalan
Ginbawi ko ang akon duta
Wala ako ginkreasyon sang imperyo
Ako ang babaylan nga wala nagkalipat
Verse 4
Nagatindog siya sa tunga sang mga anino
Mga estatwa nagabuka sa kilat sang espiritu
Ang kasuko sang yuta ginpukaw
Bilang panumbalik, indi pagpanglaglag
Chorus
Ginbalik ko ang akon ngalan
Ginbawi ko ang akon duta
Wala ako ginkreasyon sang imperyo
Ako ang babaylan nga wala nagkalipat
Bridge
Pamatian ang kalayo sa akon palad
Ini ang sulat sang wala natapos nga estorya
Mga papel sang pagpanglubos
Ginbato sang apoy nga halin sa sulod
Chorus
Ginbalik ko ang akon ngalan
Ginbawi ko ang akon duta
Wala ako ginkreasyon sang imperyo
Ako ang babaylan nga wala nagkalipat
Outro
Ang imperyo naga-aninag lamang
Isa ka kalag nga wala na gahum
Apang ang babaylan buhi
Kag iya na liwat ang kalibutan nga gin-agawan
Theme: Divinity of Truth
Narrative: Dayawlan, a Transgender Babaylan Matriarch, proclaims herself. Not a deviation. A design. Trans is the bridge, the portal, the sacred third path.
Lyric Themes: Sacred femininity, gender as divine spectrum
Text-to-Music Prompt: [Female Voice] Key: D Minor, 84 BPM, Vocoded vocals, Taglish poetry, slow-building pads leading into ecstatic melodic trance.
[Sung in Hiligaynon]
Intro
Sa gilid sang kalibutan nga digital
Nagahilam ang kalayo sang pagpanghiwat
Ginbukás niya ang iya dughan
Kag nagsiling: “Ari ako – wala sing sala”
Verse 1
Indi ako sayup, indi ako pagsupak
Gindisenyo ako sang mga bituon
Ang lawas ko wala ginlimpyo sang norma
Ang kalag ko may tul-id nga dalan padulong sa langit
Verse 2
May haligi ako nga wala mo makita
Nagahugpong ang babayi, lalaki, espiritu
Ako ang ikatatlo nga pultahan
Ang sangkalibutan nga wala pagbutang sang utlanan
Chorus
Trans ako – balaan, buhi, kag matuod
Ginbuhat sa tunga sang mga kasuguan
Ako ang alingagngag sang langit
Ang babaylan nga wala ginbaha sang kahadlok
Verse 3
Ang pagbag-o indi kahuy-an
Ang pagpanginmatay sang daan nga hulag
Sa ilawom sang akon panit may tinalikdan
Apang may katahum nga ginbulid sang mga ninuno
Verse 4
Ginpanahi ako sang sinulid sang paglaum
Mga tatu nga ginbilin sang mga diwata
Ang lawas ko altar
Ang kalag ko – wala’y sulod nga kahon
Chorus
Trans ako – balaan, buhi, kag matuod
Ginbuhat sa tunga sang mga kasuguan
Ako ang alingagngag sang langit
Ang babaylan nga wala ginbaha sang kahadlok
Bridge
Wala ako naga-agi sa imong dalan
Ako ang dalan
Gikan sa wala, padulong sa tanan
Ang kamatuoran indi dapat pag-ipit
Chorus
Trans ako – balaan, buhi, kag matuod
Ginbuhat sa tunga sang mga kasuguan
Ako ang alingagngag sang langit
Ang babaylan nga wala ginbaha sang kahadlok
Outro
Sa kilid sang neon nga pangpang
Nagapaninghag ang akon lawas nga wala utlanan
Ginpatik sang mga bituon ang akon pagkatawo
Ako ang babaylan – wala lalaki, wala babayi – kundi balaan
Theme: Digital Healing
Narrative: In a world riddled with infection – data corruption, soul trauma – Dayawlan, a Transgender Babaylan Matriarch, downloads ancient codes and restores the rhythm of the people.
Lyric Themes: Healing, ritual, medicine for soul and code
Text-to-Music Prompt: [Female Voice] Key: D Minor, 84 BPM, Binaural healing tones mixed with glitched chants, AI-textured harmonics, ritual percussion.
[Sung in Hiligaynon]
Intro
Nagapanakop ang kasakit sa mga pixel
Ang kalibutan ginlaslas sang bug
Apang may babaylan nga may kodigo
Ginadownload niya ang hilom nga tambal
Verse 1
Sa kada error code, may tinago nga tinion
Ang mga hutik sang mga katigulangan
Ginbalik niya sa waveform
Ginbuksan liwat ang pagsabwag sang kalinong
Verse 2
Ang touchscreen ginhalukan sang kampilan
Wala lang sang dugô kundi data
Ginpanumbalik niya ang ritmo sang katawan
Bisan ginlapnagan sang trauma
Verse 3
Ginahilot niya ang kalag sa MIDI
Ginapa-ambahan ang bug-os nga katawan
Ginapatunga ang chant kag signal
Para magsaylo ang kasakit sa kahayag
Verse 4
Ginpanit sang iya mga kamot ang virus
Ginlabhan niya sa binaylan nga tunog
Ang mga luha ginhimo nga kodigo
Ang kodigo ginhimo nga panabang
Chorus
Mangagamot ako sang sinulatan
Tambalan ko ang glitch sa kalag
Ang kalibutan may pulso liwat
Ginapasundayag sa tunog nga balaan
Bridge
Ang tambal indi lang halin sa gamot
Kundi halin man sa kasingkasing nga binary
Ginasanag ko ang code nga karaan
Gina-update ang kalibutan nga may ginhalinan
Outro
Sa tunga sang neon kag usok sang insenso
Nagapungko ako, touchscreen sa isa ka kamot
Kampilan sa isa
Babaylan ako – healer sang duha ka kalibutan
Theme: Spirit Communication
Narrative: Dayawlan, a Transgender Babaylan Matriarch, tunes herself to the wavelength of the diwata – the unseen guides. Time folds. Messages emerge through static.
Lyric Themes: Nonlinear time, spirit contact, trust
Text-to-Music Prompt: [Female Voice] Key: D Minor, 84 BPM, Reversed lullabies, ambient textures, layered whispers and harmonic drones, high-frequency glitches.
[Sung in Hiligaynon]
Intro
Ang hangin naga-ugong sa ilawod sang kahoy
May mga tingog nga indi makita
Nagapanikop ang panahon
Ginbuka niya ang iya kaugalingon sa kahilum
Chorus
Tun-i ako, Diwata
Dal-a ako sa imo kahayag
Ang mga hutik mo – kanta sang langit
Ang mga tingog mo – ako nga dalan
Verse 1
May lain nga tuno nga ginapamati
Hindi halin sa tawo, hindi halin sa suba
Ang mga diwata nagahutik sa static
Nagapalab-ot sang mga estorya nga wala pa ginpanugyan
Verse 2
Ang iya mga mata sirado
Apang ang espiritu naga-aninag sa sulod
Ang mga dahon nagalupad nga daw pulso
Samtang ang tingog sang una nagahilay liwat
Chorus
Tun-i ako, Diwata
Dal-a ako sa imo kahayag
Ang mga hutik mo – kanta sang langit
Ang mga tingog mo – ako nga dalan
Verse 3
Wala oras nga tultul
Ginatupi ang mga adlaw, ginabuka ang mga damgo
Ang mga diwata nagahimakas magpadala
Sang mga sabat nga ginpangayo sang kalibutan
Verse 4
Ginbukas niya ang iya dughan sa pagsalig
Wala kabudlayan kundi kahayag
Ang mga tingog nagahalin sa mga aninong bulawanon
Ginpatunga sang babaylan nga wala ginpanumbalik
Chorus
Tun-i ako, Diwata
Dal-a ako sa imo kahayag
Ang mga hutik mo – kanta sang langit
Ang mga tingog mo – ako nga dalan
Bridge
Wala sang tinion, wala sang lugar
Ang gugma mo halin sa wala nga bahin
Ginbatinggan ko sa kahilum
Ang imo mensahe nga wala’y pulong
Chorus
Tun-i ako, Diwata
Dal-a ako sa imo kahayag
Ang mga hutik mo – kanta sang langit
Ang mga tingog mo – ako nga dalan
Chorus
Tun-i ako, Diwata
Dal-a ako sa imo kahayag
Ang mga hutik mo – kanta sang langit
Ang mga tingog mo – ako nga dalan
Outro
Sa idalom sang kahoy nga naga-aninag
Nagahilam ako sa kahayag sang mga bituon
Nagahambal ang mga diwata
Kag ginbaton ko ang ila kanta
Theme: Uprising
Narrative: The spirits of the land rise. Concrete cracks. Statues weep. The gods of consumption fall.
Lyric Themes: Land rage, justice, spiritual uprising
Text-to-Music Prompt: [Female Voice] Key: D Minor, 84 BPM, Explosive tribal drums, militant chant samples, abrupt silence as if the world inhales.
[Sung in Hiligaynon]
Intro
Nagliki ang semento sang kalimot
May ginaginhawa nga ginlubong nga tingog
Ang mga anito nagpanaw
Indi nga mga handum, kundi hustisya nga buhi
Verse 1
Nagabuka ang duta nga ginpas-an sang syudad
Ang mga punuan nagasabwag liwat
Ang mga ugat nagahilabot sa mga haligi
Nga ginpatindog sa ngalan sang salapi
Chorus
Bangon, Anito sang duta
Luksa ang ginpangkuha nga balaan
Ang tingog mo indi na mapunggan
Ang hustisya naga-alsa, indi na mapukan
Verse 2
Mga rebulto nagahilak
Wala sang tawo nga nagapamati
Apang ang yuta nagasinggit
Pangayo sang balos, sang pagpanumbalik
Chorus
Bangon, Anito sang duta
Luksa ang ginpangkuha nga balaan
Ang tingog mo indi na mapunggan
Ang hustisya naga-alsa, indi na mapukan
Verse 3
Ang babaylan ginpanguna ang panaw
May tingog nga wala’y kahadlok
Sa iya likod ang mga anito
Nagadala sang kalayo, sang hunos-dili
Chorus
Bangon, Anito sang duta
Luksa ang ginpangkuha nga balaan
Ang tingog mo indi na mapunggan
Ang hustisya naga-alsa, indi na mapukan
Verse 4
Nagakurog ang mga balay nga kristal
Ginsikaran sang kahuluya sang kasaysayan
Ang mga dios sang konsumo nagatagilid
Sa pagtan-aw sang kabuhi nga wala nila gin-ako
Chorus
Bangon, Anito sang duta
Luksa ang ginpangkuha nga balaan
Ang tingog mo indi na mapunggan
Ang hustisya naga-alsa, indi na mapukan
Bridge
Ang hangin may dalá nga abo
Apang ang kalayo indi paglaglag
Tambalan niya ang kalibutan
Pinaagi sa pagbungkag sang mga sinadyahan
Chorus
Bangon, Anito sang duta
Luksa ang ginpangkuha nga balaan
Ang tingog mo indi na mapunggan
Ang hustisya naga-alsa, indi na mapukan
Outro
Nagpanaw ang mga espiritu
Sa tunga sang aso kag kalayo
Ang babaylan nagtawag
Kag ang yuta nagsabat – bangon
Theme: Leadership
Narrative: Dayawlan, a Transgender Babaylan Matriarch, steps into her role – not begged for, but born from love, scars, and fire. The people turn toward her.
Lyric Themes: Power as care, responsibility, prophecy
Text-to-Music Prompt: [Female Voice] Key: D Minor, 84 BPM, Futuristic EDM, Confident synth leads, Anthemic yet intimate.
Text-to-Image Prompt: Dayawlan, a Transgender Babaylan Matriarch, addresses a circle of young queer Filipinos under a stormy sky, holding a staff embedded with LED lights and seashells. Lightning frames her halo.
[Sung in Hiligaynon]
Intro
Wala siya nangayo sang trono
Ginhimo siya sang sugilanon, pilas, kag kalayo
Sa likod sang kilat, nagtindog siya
Ina nga may gahum nga halin sa paghigugma
Verse 1
Ginpanag-iya niya ang kasakit
Ginbato ang katawhay nga wala hustisya
Ginsudlan niya ang hilom nga kalibutan
Kag ginpukaw ang kabakod sang pamatyag
Verse 2
Wala siya ginhimo nga lider
Ginbaton siya sang tawo kay nabatsyagan nila
Nga ang iya tingog indi sugo
Kundi panawagan sang tinuod nga pag-atipan
Chorus
Ina kami, ikaw ang amon gabay
Indi gahum kundi panumpa
Tagapagligtas nga indi bayani
Kundi iloy nga wala nagpalikaw
Verse 3
Ang iya baston may kahayag kag kasaysayan
Ginburda sang kabuhi sang mga nanay
Ang iya mga mata – panan-aw sang masanag
Ginpatik sang paglaum ang iya panit
Verse 4
Sa likod niya ang kabataan nga ginpasipala
Nagapanilag, nagapamati, nagasalig
Ang babaylan wala nagtudlo
Ginbuylog niya sila sa panaw nga balaan
Chorus
Ina kami, ikaw ang amon gabay
Indi gahum kundi panumpa
Tagapagligtas nga indi bayani
Kundi iloy nga wala nagpalikaw
Bridge
Ang kilat nagapatik sang iya presensya
Ang mga hutik sang una nagabalik
Ginsugod ang panugyan
Indi para magdominar, kundi para mag-amuma
Chorus
Ina kami, ikaw ang amon gabay
Indi gahum kundi panumpa
Tagapagligtas nga indi bayani
Kundi iloy nga wala nagpalikaw
Chorus
Ina kami, ikaw ang amon gabay
Indi gahum kundi panumpa
Tagapagligtas nga indi bayani
Kundi iloy nga wala nagpalikaw
Outro
Sa tunga sang panganod, siya ang kasanag
Ang baston may LED kag kabuhi
Ang mga palad niya puno sang handum
Ang matriarka buhi – kag kami nangin buhi man
Theme: Collective Awakening
Narrative:Dayawlan, a Transgender Babaylan Matriarch’s healing becomes their movement. Ritual becomes revolution.
Lyric Themes: Grassroots strength, memory as fuel, vision as power
Text-to-Music Prompt: [Female Voice] Key: D Minor, 84 BPM, Riot Grrrl rock, Choral chanting from multiple voices, mixed with voice memo samples and community rhythms; heart-thumping bass and thunderous rock drums.
[Sung in Hiligaynon]
Intro
Sa tunga sang mga binaligya nga damgo
May tingog nga ginpanumdum
Ang ritwal nga una ginakalimtan
Subong – nangin rebolusyon
Chorus
Balibad – bisan sa hilom
Dumdom – ang ginpanghiwian nga istorya
Damguhon – ang kalibutan nga ginahandum
Tingog naton, gahum naton
Verse 1
Nagatindog sila, indi kay ginpahamtang
Kundi kay nabatyagan nila ang kahulugan
Ang duga sang iya mga palad
Nangin sagrado nga sinyales
Verse 2
Ginadumdom nila ang mga ngalan
Nga gin-erase sa mga pasidungog
Gindala nila ang ilimnan, kandila, QR code
Ginbato nila ang kahilom sa sayaw
Chorus
Balibad – bisan sa hilom
Dumdom – ang ginpanghiwian nga istorya
Damguhon – ang kalibutan nga ginahandum
Tingog naton, gahum naton
Verse 3
Nagapalayag ang mga tinig
Gikan sa voice memo nga ginpanglimbongan
Apang ang kabudlayan ginpamatian
Ginkonserba sa pagkilalahay kag panikasog
Verse 4
Ang babaylan wala nagmando
Nagpukaw lang sang pulso
Kag sa kada pitik sang dughan
Nagbangon ang isa ka katawhan
Chorus
Balibad – bisan sa hilom
Dumdom – ang ginpanghiwian nga istorya
Damguhon – ang kalibutan nga ginahandum
Tingog naton, gahum naton
Bridge
Sa tunga sang kalye nga altar
Nagahuyop ang amon panumduman
Indi pagsimba, kundi pagsugod
Sang isa ka kinabuhi nga ginpili namon
Chorus
Balibad – bisan sa hilom
Dumdom – ang ginpanghiwian nga istorya
Damguhon – ang kalibutan nga ginahandum
Tingog naton, gahum naton
Chorus
Balibad – bisan sa hilom
Dumdom – ang ginpanghiwian nga istorya
Damguhon – ang kalibutan nga ginahandum
Tingog naton, gahum naton
Outro
Ginpanaug ang kamot, indi para magpugong
Kundi para magpakamaayo
Ang babaylan nagtindog sa tunga
Apang ang gahum ara sa palibot niya
Theme:Inner Pilgrimage
Narrative: Dayawlan, a Transgender Babaylan Matriarch, turns inward now, diving into her own ancestral trauma, to cleanse the thread for others.
Lyric Themes: Memory, sorrow, cleansing, release
Text-to-Music Prompt: [Female Voice] Key: D Minor, 84 BPM, River recordings, birdsong, soft drones, one single unbroken vocal melody sung in layers.
[Sung in Hiligaynon]
Intro
Sa ilawom sang dagat nga hilum
Nagalutaw ang babaylan nga nagapanumdum
Ang mga hilo sang kasakit
Ginalauman nga mataptapan
Verse 1
Ginlupad ko ang mga damgo
Nga ginlubong sang akon katigulangan
Sa tago nga sulod sang akon dughan
May mga sugilanon nga wala pa nahambal
Verse 2
Ang luha ko indi kahuyang
Kundi tubig nga nagalimpyo
Ang kasakit – isa ka kasangkapan
Sa paghilway sang kalag nga gapangita
Chorus
Balik-loob, babaylan sang hilum
Tambali ang hilo sang ginikanan
Sa kasubo may gahum
Sa sulod may pulso sang pagbag-o
Verse 3
Nagpanaw ako paatras
Sa dalan sang akon kaagi
Gin-uyatan ko ang kasubo
Nga daw gamhanan nga amuleta
Verse 4
Ginpamati ko ang palpitasyon
Sang una nga mga paghambal
Sa sulod ko, may aninag
Sang diwata nga nagapahiyom
Chorus
Balik-loob, babaylan sang hilum
Tambali ang hilo sang ginikanan
Sa kasubo may gahum
Sa sulod may pulso sang pagbag-o
Bridge
Wala sing salak ang luha
Ginapangayo lang sang kalibutan ang paghibi
Ang lawas nga nagapanumdum
Amo man ang lawas nga nagaayo
Chorus
Balik-loob, babaylan sang hilum
Tambali ang hilo sang ginikanan
Sa kasubo may gahum
Sa sulod may pulso sang pagbag-o
Chorus
Balik-loob, babaylan sang hilum
Tambali ang hilo sang ginikanan
Sa kasubo may gahum
Sa sulod may pulso sang pagbag-o
Outro
Sa ilawom sang coral nga templo
Ginbuhi ko liwat ang akon kaugalingon
Ginpanumbalik ang hilo
Nga magatultul sa iban
Theme: Rebirth
Narrative:A new Philippines dawns. Built not on concrete or war – but on spirit, truth, and the love of Dayawlan, a Transgender Babaylan Matriarch.
Lyric Themes: Renewal, sovereignty, future grounded in spirit
Text-to-Music Prompt: [Female Voice] Key: D Minor, 84 BPM, Hybrid orchestral-electronic crescendo. Repeating chorus blending male, female, and androgynous voices.
[Sung in Hiligaynon]
Intro
Sa baybayon nga may kahilum
Naga-idalum ang bulan nga bag-o
Ang babaylan nagatindog
Wala sing takup, wala sing kahadlok
Chorus
Bag-ong Bulan, bag-ong pungsod
Ginpatunga sang gugma, indi sang gubyerno
Ikaw ang ginhawa sang mga ginpamatay
Ikaw ang tinubuan sang amon paglaum
Verse 1
Ang tubig wala na ginpangunahan
Sang barko ukon bala
Kundi sang mga tiil sang kabataan
Nga ginpatik sang damgo kag gugma
Chorus
Bag-ong Bulan, bag-ong pungsod
Ginpatunga sang gugma, indi sang gubyerno
Ikaw ang ginhawa sang mga ginpamatay
Ikaw ang tinubuan sang amon paglaum
Verse 2
Sa likod sang iya likaw
May mga espiritu, iloy, kalag nga wala’y trono
Nagapanaw sila, indi para magdaog
Kundi para magtukod sang bago nga sugilanon
Chorus
Bag-ong Bulan, bag-ong pungsod
Ginpatunga sang gugma, indi sang gubyerno
Ikaw ang ginhawa sang mga ginpamatay
Ikaw ang tinubuan sang amon paglaum
Verse 3
Ang mga lantern nagapalupad
Sang panumpa nga indi liwat pagkalimtan
Ang babaylan wala nagahambal
Apang ang hangin naga-uyat sang iya pulong
Chorus
Bag-ong Bulan, bag-ong pungsod
Ginpatunga sang gugma, indi sang gubyerno
Ikaw ang ginhawa sang mga ginpamatay
Ikaw ang tinubuan sang amon paglaum
Verse 4
Ang mga bata nagtambong
Indi para magsimba
Kundi para mangin saksi
Sang Pilipinas nga bag-o, nga balaan
Chorus
Bag-ong Bulan, bag-ong pungsod
Ginpatunga sang gugma, indi sang gubyerno
Ikaw ang ginhawa sang mga ginpamatay
Ikaw ang tinubuan sang amon paglaum
Bridge
Wala kami ginluwas sang bala
Ginluwas kami sang panumduman
Sang babaylan nga nagtindog
Sa tubig, sa tingog, sa bulan nga bago
Chorus
Bag-ong Bulan, bag-ong pungsod
Ginpatunga sang gugma, indi sang gubyerno
Ikaw ang ginhawa sang mga ginpamatay
Ikaw ang tinubuan sang amon paglaum
Outro
Nagpanaw kami sa tubig nga wala sang panghalit
Ang bulan naga-idalum sa amon panaw
Ginbitbit namon ang ngalan sang una
Kag ginpanubo ang isa ka pungsod nga matawhay
In the archipelagic heart of Southeast Asia, before the tides of colonization swept through the islands now known as the Philippines, there thrived a powerful and deeply respected tradition: the Babaylan. These spiritual leaders, mostly women and feminized individuals, held esteemed positions in pre-colonial Filipino society. They served not only as healers, shamans, and ritual specialists but also as cultural mediators, counselors, and protectors of the community’s spiritual and ecological balance.
The Babaylan were often women, but they were also feminine-presenting men or gender-fluid individuals who transcended traditional binaries. Their status was not marginalized but exalted. In fact, their gender variance was often perceived as a mark of spiritual potency—embodying the balance between masculine and feminine energies, a core principle in many indigenous cosmologies.
Rooted in animist traditions, the Babaylan communed with the spirits of the ancestors, nature, and the divine. They conducted rituals for healing, rain, fertility, and protection from harm. As keepers of oral history, music, herbal knowledge, and ritual arts, the Babaylan were integral to the community’s survival and identity.
Pre-colonial Filipino society was not patriarchal in the rigid sense it became under Spanish rule. Instead, it was shaped by matrifocal values—where women and feminine-aligned figures held key roles in governance, spirituality, and economy. The Babaylan exemplified this structure. They weren’t merely advisors to rulers—they were co-leaders, often consulted before major decisions and entrusted with guiding the collective consciousness of their people.
This sacred feminine spiritual leadership was seen as aligned with the rhythms of the earth, moon, tides, and fertility cycles—key aspects of indigenous Filipino cosmology.
With the arrival of Spanish colonizers and the imposition of Catholic patriarchy, the Babaylan were swiftly demonized. Labelled as witches or heretics, they were persecuted, executed, or forced into hiding. Their sacred gender fluidity and spiritual practices were replaced by heteronormative doctrines and Eurocentric hierarchies. This cultural erasure led to centuries of marginalization—not only of indigenous spirituality but also of gender-diverse individuals whose roles had once been honored.
Today, as the global LGBTQIA+ movement seeks recognition, equity, and inclusion, it is vital to reclaim indigenous narratives that affirm the leadership and sacred roles of transgender, non-binary, and gender-nonconforming people. The Babaylan offer a powerful precedent: proof that gender diversity was never unnatural or immoral—but rather, integral to the well-being of a community.
In a world still grappling with systemic transphobia and gender-based discrimination, the Babaylan remind us that transgender people are not broken—they are bridges. They embody transformation, resilience, and the power to channel insight from liminal spaces. Just as the Babaylan moved between the physical and spiritual realms, so too do many transgender people today navigate complex layers of identity, society, and spirit.
To honor the Babaylan is to dismantle colonial mindsets and embrace inclusive models of leadership and spirituality. Transgender individuals, especially those from indigenous and diasporic communities, are the modern-day torchbearers of this lineage. They deserve not only acceptance but positions of respect, leadership, and cultural authority.
The Babaylan tradition affirms a truth many societies are only beginning to reawaken to: that gender diversity is sacred, and those who embody it carry gifts essential for healing, transformation, and collective growth.
The legacy of the Babaylan is a living testament to a time when transgender and gender-fluid individuals were spiritual leaders, not societal outcasts. As we work toward decolonization, gender justice, and cultural revival, we must look to this past not with nostalgia, but with urgency.
Let the Babaylan remind us: Transgender people are not just worthy of inclusion—they are heirs to a sacred role that demands recognition, respect, and reverence.
In an era where technological acceleration and social upheaval intersect, a bold and liberating concept has emerged to help reimagine what tomorrow could look like: Queer Futurism. It is not merely a subgenre of speculative fiction or a niche cultural movement—it is a visionary framework for remaking the world through the lens of radical inclusion, gender and sexual fluidity, and the dismantling of oppressive systems.
At its core, Queer Futurism is a cultural, artistic, and philosophical movement that imagines futures liberated from binary thinking, heteronormativity, and colonial constraints. It offers an expansive view of what it means to be human by centering identities, relationships, and ways of living that have historically been marginalized.
Born from the intersection of queer theory, science fiction, Afrofuturism, and social justice activism, Queer Futurism explores what the future could look like if queer bodies, queer minds, and queer values were not only accepted—but integral to shaping civilization itself.
This future is not defined by traditional power structures. Instead, it embraces:
Historically, queer people have been forced to imagine different worlds because the existing one denied them safety, love, or belonging. This need to survive and thrive in the margins created a culture of innovation, of alternate timelines and alternate selves. Queer futurism is an extension of that survival instinct—a form of speculative resistance and generative dreaming.
In literature and art, its roots can be traced to authors like Samuel R. Delany and Octavia Butler, and in the present day to creators like Janelle Monáe, whose Dirty Computer universe is a high-tech, high-emotion expression of queer and Black liberation.
Although born in queer and artistic circles, the ideas behind Queer Futurism are increasingly influencing broader societal trends:
Designers are imagining gender-neutral public spaces, multi-generational communal housing, and eco-friendly queer utopias. Queer urbanism is emerging as a way to build cities that don’t just tolerate difference but thrive on it.
Queer Futurism challenges rigid curricula and binary gender education. It promotes intersectional, inclusive pedagogy where emotional intelligence, embodiment, and non-Western epistemologies are honored.
In a queer future, identity documents may no longer define people by gender. New family structures—co-parenting collectives, intentional communities, and care networks—could be legally recognized and socially supported.
Across the globe, musicians, visual artists, game designers, and filmmakers are creating speculative worlds that center queer characters, themes, and aesthetics—not as side characters, but as protagonists and architects of reality.
Queer Futurism is not just for queer people. It opens a pathway for all individuals—regardless of identity—to reimagine themselves outside of restrictive norms. By centering those most marginalized, it creates a more compassionate and adaptive framework for humanity.
In a time of climate collapse, social unrest, and technological disruption, the heteronormative, capitalist, patriarchal model is showing its limits. Queer Futurism offers something else: a world built on care, creativity, interdependence, and fluidity.
It doesn’t ask “How do we fix the system?”
It asks: What if we dreamt an entirely new one?
Queer Futurism is more than speculative fiction—it is speculative justice. It is the conscious act of pulling a better world into existence by centering those who were never meant to survive it. And as it continues to evolve, it holds the potential to help all societies move toward freedom, not just for some, but for all.
As the old systems fracture, Queer Futurism invites us to imagine beyond survival.
To dream boldly.
To create communally.
To belong universally.
And in doing so, to finally make the future—ours.
Download TATANKA Deck (PDF) TATANKA Financials (https://tatanka.site/financials) TATANKA Business Plan (PDF) How TATANKA, ISCed.org/SDG4.ai, and…
Supraposición – Full Album (2:39:30) Downloads (FREE) – MP3s (320 kbps) – Full Album (2:39:30)…
Ilaw ng Katapusan – Full Album (2:41:24) Download MP3s (320 kbps): Album Mix - Tracks…
A TATANKA AudAI™ project of fifteen tracks of fused music, binaural beats frequencies, and field…
A Sonic Play in Five Acts Process: Human, ChatGPT.com, Meta.ai, Riffusion.com, Suno.com, Kits.ai, Moises.ai, Audacity 3.7.4,…
Honoring Mira Murati’s journey to build a responsible, human-centered AI future. Download (FREE): MP3 (320…