Tag Archives: story

Child Story

When I was about four or six–somewhere in that age, I was wandering around the marketplace, hanging around the stalls when I was approached by this woman who sells slippers in her own stall. She asked me about my personal life. She wasn’t a stranger at all. Nobody was, because every store owner knew each other there.

Now, this lady, she was so interested about my life and she was asking a lot of question about my family. Eventually, she started to annoy me as our supposed conversation, like any other conversation between an adult and a child, became an interview. And then I wondered how far our little chat could go if I twist my stories into ridiculous lies.

For a start, I lied about how mom wasn’t really my mom. And that she really my aunt and that my real mom died when I was very young. That’s when the lady’s eyes widened as she straightened her back and craned her neck towards me. That’s also when I felt how good it was when someone is suddenly becomes curious about something you know (even if it was a lie). I felt important. I felt mysterious. I felt powerful over someone begging for information. But before I went on expanding my soap opera life story, my mom came to take me home. And well. The lady asked, as carefully and politely as she could, about all the outrageous stories that I told her. My mom, after giving her a look of confusion and shock, denied them all.

I never knew how my mom explained to her the real story. I doubt the lady ever believed my mom’s version. People tend focus on the intriguing stories and they sort of put aside what is real. Also, I think she was the type to believe in the phrase “Kids don’t lie.”

Now, you may think that I was this psychopath kid who would grow up to be an evil human being about to take over the planet. But I just want to tell you that I felt guilty after that. And I felt guilty all the way home. And I still felt guilty when my mom scolded me and gave a long lecture about honesty. Although, at this very moment I look at it as a funny story, it was very curious how wild I would go to make myself feel high and mighty.


Wasted Skins


We relived our childhood awhile ago and played around with fake tattoos. In all fairness, it looked kinda rad in the picture.

Updates on what’s happening: We are at the Second Wave of our Senior Production 1.  I’m done with the Animated TV Commercial and it’s time for making the music video. Damn. The Post-Prod now serves as a common room for me and my peers.  It’s now a sanctuary for the frustrated and the sleep deprived and the uncontrollable hyper and violent physical urges.

I realized I hadn’t talk about what happened after the submission of the ATVC and the prelims exam in Advanced Animation. Well, we were pretty worn out so we kinda needed to freshen things up. Luckily it was my friend’s 20th and she invited us over her place (which was convenient because it was a few minutes from my house).

There, we poured our frustrations and stress on the karaoke machine. As the night grew deep, madness ensues until we couldn’t tell what we were drinking anymore. Some were punching each other on the arm (which was evident the next day because of the bruises we had). Some lay down on the side of the road and watched the stars. Some just didn’t give a single fuck and kept singing the karaoke even after they vomited. The place was covered with cigarette smoke and vomit. And I have no idea how I got to where I was sleeping that night.



In those long afternoons walks I wish our destination was farther or never to be reached at all. I love hearing your stories. It interests me no matter how simple and ordinary they may be. I like seeing your eyes glisten as you speak you heart out. And the sound as you catch your breath in your hurry of finishing the story. And those taps on my shoulder whenever you need my utmost attention because you were trying to make a point. 

Although it makes my heart skip beats when you cling onto my elbow whenever there’s a car around as we cross the street, I kinda wish you’d never let go. If given the chance, I would have interlaced my fingers around yours and hold it for as long as the situation can. 

And I shall never waste a single millisecond as our every step takes us towards wherever this whole moment should stop. 

because nothing feels more peaceful than doing your favorite thing with your favorite person. 


Nobody had any idea how they end up sitting together by a lake. In fact, both have no idea who each other was yet both felt the same comfort from each other’s presence as if they knew each other for a long time.

The girl offered the boy a pack of cigarettes. She knew she’s been smoking for awhile. And yet she can’t remember since when.

“Thanks. ” says the boy as he took one. As he was putting it in his mouth the girl took out the lighter from her pocket.

“Oh no, I’m good.” says the boy quickly.

The girl raised an eyebrow but put the lighter back anyway. And then she smiled.

“Is that supposed to be a statement or something?”

The boy smiled back. He shifted his position and gazed at his cigarette as he held it between his fingers. “It used to. But I suppose, I just grown quite accustomed to this habit even if that statement doesn’t matter anymore. Also, I never really liked smoking.”

He glanced at her packed of cigarettes. “No offense.”

“None taken. I’m not really that passionate about smoking. People think about me that way, but it’s not true at all. It’s like…breathing, you know. You don’t love it but you kinda need it and so you do it and you don’t think about breathing that much. ”

“I knew someone who thinks about breathing that much.” he quietly replied.

For some reason, the girl understood that whoever that was, he was longing for that person. She reached for that lighter in her pocket and gave it to the boy.

The boy gave her a smile and took it. She leaned on his shoulder and they silently looked back at the life they had.


I kinda made a story of this idea I had awhile ago of Augustus Waters and Alaska Young having a conversation about cigarettes in their afterlife. This would probably my 3rd “fanfiction” in my lifetime and no I don’t even want to talk about the first two (I co-wrote them with a friend when we were 15).

The Mysterious Girl In A 10 year-old’s Drawing


I was going through my stuff awhile ago and found a scrapbook where I used to post my drawings back when I didn’t have the commitment of owning a sketchpad. I used to draw in every back page of any used paper because my mom told me it’s a waste of paper if I used blank pages. There came a time when I realized I’ve been drawing too much and I was quite fascinated with how awful some of the drawings were so I decided to put it on a scrapbook thus, this particular page I posted above.

When I was in fourth grade, there had been a big talk of this anime called Naruto in my class. It’s been popular mostly to boys because it’s of the action. It’s also popular to girls because of Sasuke. BUT, before anything else, that statement was just my observation in MY class. That does not generalize how girls and boys see things, okay? I just needed to say that because the talk of feminism is hot right now and I myself is a feminist and I want everyone to know that that statement was based in MY observation in MY class and I believe that anyone can love it for whatever reason they have regardless of their gender. Okay?

Okay, moving on.

So this show is about this kid named Naruto who goes to a ninja school and that’s probably the main reason why everyone loved it. I mean c’mon who wouldn’t want to study in a ninja school? In my long experience of school, students, especially kids are not really that excited with Math, Science and English. I mean, sometimes they’re fun but you don’t really see kids wishing, “Oh man, I wish I was in a Math School. Where I get to enhance my fraction skills and I master getting the square root of this and that 24/7. That would be really awesome!” 

Yeesh. Typing these words just gives me chills because, you know, me and Math, we go way back. And I’m telling you, throughout the years we’ve been together, not pretty (See this entry I made to know my feels about it). So yeah, Naruto comes along making every kid jealous of him because he get to study in this really fun and dangerous (because seriously, kids are taught to kill each other) academy and he get to have these weird but cool mentors and all his adventures where he always gets to fight someone and it went on for years. It just had its finale last November, I think.

So yeah, in that year, when I dreamt I myself was a Ninja on training from the hidden leaf village of Konoha, I made a sort-of fanart. I guess I kinda nailed it without using any reference. But there’s this one character that really bothers me because I can not recognize her at all.


Who is she? What is she doing here? I’ve been racking my brains and I still don’t remember what is her purpose in this drawing. Could it be possible that someone deliberately put it in there when I was not looking? Or was I experiencing hallucination like in the movie Oculus where the character doesn’t remember doing a particular thing and she would suddenly get surprised when she realized she had done it?

Or she placed herself in there?

Did she wanted so badly to belong somewhere that she forced herself in a drawing of a 10 year-old? Knowing that she cannot be remembered by the creator, knowing that no matter how hard she try to blend in, she can never be part of this world. Of any world. So she silently swallow the pain. And behind her vacant eyes and sly smile, she pretends she’s part of something.

The Free Ghost


I just got home from my friend’s place after watching The Exorcism of Emily Rose. Now, I’m not here to make reviews about it but I have to say it’s highly recommended because of its cool courtroom drama and terrifying belief on the curse of waking up at 3 in the morning (which didn’t really affect me anymore because I’m used to staying awake until that time whenever I do school activities and no scent of burning, no contractions of the body and no Latin phrases occurred during that period).

I’ve watched the film for so many times that my stand on the fear scale in horror movies is getting lower every time. That being said, when I participated on the film viewing just to scare ourselves, I was more entertained in watching my friends shriek, bury their faces on pillows and cover their eyes every time suspense is on move. Man, their faces are priceless.


My friend and I had just had our first real talk after almost a year and a half of being too casual to each other after the shitty things that has happened to us that made us drift away from each other. Back then, we were almost inseparable. We always had each other’s back when things fail at school or people are just full of shit. We were friends.

And then I fucked up. And so things started to fuck up. And everything got awkward after that even though we both said we’re sorry and we’re okay. We just became these two people who says polite “hellos” to each other every time we cross path. And I can’t help but feel regret to every moment when she goes one step further and I miss one lesser known fact about her life until we become two different people and we haven’t got any idea who we are anymore. I regret every moment of those.

I never thought she’d come back. I was so close of accepting the fact that things have changed and these are the ripples of effect from the crappy decisions I made. But still, we were a given chance. And that’s all I’ve ever hoped for and there it is.

Time to catch up.