Posted on Aug 8, ’09 12:43 PM
I never realized how things could suddenly change so fast until now. One minute we’re affectionately cuddling and exchanging sweet nothings and on another, we squabble. I hate squabbles. It drains my energy and it’s so hard to replenish lost ones. The feeling beckons me back to my old dark self. I hate the darkness. Believe me. I’ve been through hell. Please don’t shun me back.
I know you have questions. Lots of them in your pretty little head. And though you know the answers already, you still throw them at me. And I know the best thing to do is to answer.
And then another blow hit me right on the face. Didn’t I just answer that? Or do you want me to tell you an answer you so wanted to hear?
It won’t do any good to add insult to the injury. I can’t tell you a lie. Can’t you just believe me and get it over with? Can’t you just leave me be? At peace, yes, at peace.
I kept quiet.
Yes, the next best step is to keep quiet. Please. It’s been years. We’ve been through this many times already. Aren’t you tired?
Posted on Aug 1, ’09 10:56 AM
Slept with my stomach full yesterday. I know it’s not good. Spare me the lecture. But it’s not all that bad either. I mean, okay, whatever. So I had a dream. It’s so cool that my mind begged me not to leave it on my pile of forgotten memories.
• Sheila AKA geékachü
• A prisoner
In an unusual prison cloaked in a grey canopy-like rock mass. The sun was just setting.
No. I wasn’t a detainee but an onlooker. As to why I was there, I don’t exactly know. Maybe my unconscious self had a small talk with my other self about the Cebu dancing inmates and how I was invited to come watch them and then cancelled on the last minute. I know. I’m sorry. So yeah, the story began. It was in the outskirts of the city. It didn’t look like somewhere near the city, what with the cave and rock masses surrounding the prison. And to have you a better picture, it’s not a big one. It only consists of a single cell with one person. I don’t know him at all. A complete stranger. And again, I don’t know why I was there. Dreams can sometimes be so mysterious and weird. The weirder part is what’s on the other side of the cell. A huge, fierce, and hungry tiger. Seriously! As you may have predicted already, the action commences.
It was all because of that egoistic prisoner. He somehow managed to break himself free from the shackles that bound him and rip open the iron bars using only his bare hands. And then as if in a snap, he vanished. Picture this. Me, cell with the prisoner, tiger. So I and the tiger were on opposite sides of the cell. He wouldn’t have reached me if not for the stupid maniac in the middle who tore the divider and opened a gateway for the tiger to set his eyes on me. I was trembling. I learned when I was a kid to not move a muscle when a dog tries to chase. I mistook the tiger for a dog. I never moved a muscle. But the tiger did not seem amused. He made a weird gesture. (Was that a snicker just now?) And then moved one step closer to me. I mimicked him and tried, to the very best of my ability, to move stealthily away. I was successful for the first few steps but not for long.
He started to lunge directly at my face. I dodged it. I ran and ran and ran. I was breathing hard. Panting. The next turn of events had me fighting for dear life as the tiger was so adamant at having me for dinner. It was obvious he hasn’t eaten for days or even months. Is he the warden in charge of guarding that prison-breaking hulk? Maybe he’s a human taking only a monster’s form. But I didn’t have the luxury of time to accommodate these thoughts. I just had to keep running. I could no longer feel my legs. I swerved in a miniscule crook. I couldn’t continue running. I hid there. For a moment, I was sure I was safe. I quietly heaved a deep sigh of relief. But in a matter of split second, he was there again! I couldn’t move. I was so afraid. The tiger knocked the lights out of me.
There’s a ringing. It gets louder and louder it hurt my eardrums.
Oh, it’s the alarm. Time to wake up!
8 Things You’d Most Likely Do While Watching TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN
Posted on Jul 5, ’09 3:42 PM
Sunday. Redh’s birthday. I finally raised the white flag of surrender about not watching Transformers in the big screen. It’s his day, okay. Plus it’s his treat, which is why I obliged in the first place. (Shush! I love you, Dear.) As my fingers were intertwined with his, head slightly leaned to his side, my mind began scribbling random thoughts of its own accord. Unable to quell such quenchless desires, the nerd in me (He teases me “nerd” although I prefer to be addressed as a “geek.” No other special reason than I just like the sound of it, geek.) dominated for a while, and he most likely succeeded for this blog would have been nonexistent. If you’ve watched the flick, you most probably did one or two of these things. And if you haven’t yet, you most probably will.
1. Scream “Run, Shia, run!” I sometimes wonder if a stuntman could have done better in most of his recent roles because that’s just what he does all the time—run, chase, run. It’s the common denominator of movies he’s done so far. If you didn’t take notes, in no particular order, he kept running from the authorities in Eagle Eye; he plunged into extensive chase scenes in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull; and, of course, you know what happened in the first Transformers movie. I know he can do better than that.
2. Realize that beauty and brains seldom mix. Look at Megan’s role. Aside from running with Shia, I don’t remember any important lines she’s said so far. Like, okay, you’re an eye candy. And then what? If she had been a blondie, it could all add up. Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against blondies. I love Madonna and her diabolical image. But you know the joke, right?
3. Get enthralled by Megan’s ridiculously foxy lips. Has anybody told her that it gets annoyingly distracting sometimes? Maybe it’s too much lip gloss. Maybe it’s her pouty lips. Or maybe it’s just me? It’s distracting all the same.
4. Hum to Greenday’s “21 Guns.” I love Greenday, no question to that. They’re on top of my fave list. Well, one of those on top. And I’m in the process of memorizing the song’s lyrics as we speak. I’m just bothered with the line “nothing’s ever built to last” though. Well, Optimus Prime did, didn’t he? (spoiler!)
5. Cry to the point of laughing. I know you’re not a lunatic. I’m not either. And even if I were, I’m not crazy enough to admit. Duh! Made sense so far? Well there’s this one (or maybe two, but for me one) moment where you realize how Transformers could be a real tearjerker. Awww… But there goes my seatmate again, blowing my sentimental moment. What else could I do but laugh? Or maybe smile and then laugh. I just hate it when he does that. I mean, I’m a crybaby dammit, and I usually like a movie when it touches my heart to the point of crying. Well, I forgive you, Dear. Don’t get spoiled though.
6. Laugh to the point of tears. That happens to everyone. Self explanatory. Besides, what good is a movie without a good laugh?
7. Sing to Linkin Park’s “New Divide.” Glad Chester decided to quit screaming and belting high notes for a while. Cuz it would have been a bit wearing. Jus’ like when we hear Papa Roach, what’s the first thing that comes to mind? They’re a hard rock band so you expect close-to-metal music. But they managed to send the message across that they can be versatile too. That’s when they gave us a different flavor in the song “Scars,” which was a big hit. And I love it! I’m pretty sure I’ll love “New Divide” as well.
8. Gape in astonishment. No words, just gaping. Oh wipe that moist forming and starting to cascade from your mouth, will yah! Gross!
I’m hungry. (See how I somehow unconsciously connected those two words? Gross and hungry. Well, it seems I’m not all that squeamish now.) There’s still leftover from the night before. It’s 2:40 in the morning. Gotta go eat. Later!
Web Content Copywriter
Posted on Jun 26, ’09 9:55 AM
I am a graduate of Commerce major in Accounting Management and I’m applying for a writer post. Sure, that doesn’t sound like a good equation. Well, I suck at equations so I’m trying to make amends with words… and paragraphs. Had it not been for the scarcity of course choices where I came from, I might’ve been a pro writer right now. S’what happens when you end up in a course you hate, not even not like. So there. And I miraculously made it to the end of the puddle-laden dirt path. Thanks to friends and classmates who donated some of their brain cells just to keep mine fired up. (This is the part where you try to read the in-betweens.) I especially can’t dismiss some chapters of student life that offered a barrage of mind-blowing problems when I clearly had enough on my plate:
1. Long short quizzes – Just like short stories. Seriously, where did this idea come from?
2. Open-notes quizzes – My favorite. Not when the answers aren’t on my notes because I didn’t have notes to begin with.
3. Problem solving – The time to make friends. Please, don’t judge me just yet. I’m friendly, okay. (What few people say, at least.)
4. Recitations – Piece of cake. You know when you just speak like a fluent bird from the West and then flash some charm, that most of the time does the trick. They don’t care if it’s the wrong or right answer as long as you say it in a way they can’t. Try it! It works!
5. Assignments – Picture a child who can’t find his all-time cherished toy after winning a game in hide-and-seek. (Did that even make sense?)
6. Prelims – This leaves me with an empty pocket. Photocopy here, photocopy there. A price you pay for not paying attention.
7. Midterms – When library cards are especially helpful. If only I had one.
8. Semi-finals – An eventful time. Probably because I was out working with the school publication guys that I forget I have exams the same week.
9. Finals – Finally, the archway of completion nears. Throwing of graduation hats makes you feel you’ve done it. Then a strand of your mind flickers. What now?
Expectedly, I shifted from one craft to another and decided to call myself a shifter (just because jack-of-all-trades has been widely used and abused many times already). I realize I’m not supposed to give away my resumé here so I won’t talk much on that regard. I know you won’t mind.
Another thing I know is I love to write. I was born to write, and more. I can’t stop now, can I?
When Day Turns to Night
Posted on May 16, ’09 10:11 PM
For nocturnal blood, it becomes normal to nod off at any time of the day. For the most part, it’s because nighttime is when they’re most active while daytime is, well, when they go to sleep. This isn’t about vampires, no. (I’m not used to spoon feeding these days so try and get the hint.) Well yeah, sleeping when everybody else is awake and keeping yourself awake when everybody else is enjoying their time in dreamland has somehow become a culture for most of us. Dinner becomes breakfast and lunches happen during midnight. Like you live in a totally different world under the same sky.
As usual, I was dozing off at a familiar time of the day until after around 3 hours of oversleeping. When suddenly I unconsciously heard myself sobbing. That happens all the time but this one’s so freakin’ out of the ordinary. Usually I dream about being chased by a killer, or falling off my bed, or screaming at the top of my lungs with no voice coming out. But this time, it seemed as if I was being mocked by death itself. Not a big deal if it was me dying, but no, it wasn’t. It was my father no less! You see, losing one parent when you were only about 6 years old is already problematic.
As I awoke with morning breath (note: it was 6 o’clock in the evening), I fumbled through the clutter on my bedside table and, after spilling and dropping a thing or two, found my cell phone in between my two trembling hands. I hurriedly input the five-digit lock code and the LCD started to light, which harshly hurt my eyes. After scrolling contacts, I finally found his number and pressed Call. It seemed like forever until I heard a familiar voice on the other end of the line. It was my younger sister. I know my voice doesn’t sound so me on the telephone (plus the fact that I just woke up) so she asked who was calling. I didn’t have time to answer her and instead blurted out with “Asa si Papa?” She seemed to understand the urgency in my tone so she handed it to him in no time.
Mai? (They call me Mai-Mai at home.)
O, tawag man lagi ka?
Aw . . (heaving a big sigh of relief) Ugma nako padala nimo ha.
Ug unsa? (He sounded clueless of what was going on. Christmas was the last time we spoke so he probably forgot, but I promised to send him money every month, which I haven’t really been doing for some time now. I felt like slapping myself but thought better of it.)
Kwarta . . . (Voice starting to break.)
The conversation continued for only a few minutes then the line got cut. A great timing because by that time, I already lost the capability to pull myself together and reflexively broke down into tears. I thought of going to the nearest store to buy load and then my thumb started pushing letters on the keypad. Sent.
I was back in my dark room. I didn’t have time to switch on the light and the whirring of the electric fan didn’t occur to me until I got up and began clearing my thoughts. I remembered I didn’t say a prayer before I went to bed earlier that day, which is when nightmares haunt me. I’ve realized that so many times already but you know how stubborn I am (or just forgetful).