fast

there was this girl.
she ran. and ran.
as if in a race.
she didn't hear what the others
were telling her.
their mouths moved.
but didn't mean a thing.
she ran and ran.
she didn't look at the road ahead.
she tripped.
she fell flat on her face.
and she didn't want to get up again.
because it felt fine.
to just lie there.

06/07/05

the sleeping pill

I did not take the sleeping pill but still i feel a little woozy. Staring ahead, going through his head and doodling in this chair is all the excitement this class could get. This room in this boring building has not enough doors to see outside -- people walking, interesting get-ups, cute faces. It has too high windows to count cars, passers-by or even sketch the trees outside.

His voice drones on in my head. Same lesson. Same words. No meaning. It's as if he's trying to brain wash us, with his thoughts of nationalism, the rich being the country's oppressors and all those things which really don't matter much to us. Instead of believing him, it makes me want to stick a finger down my throat and throw up. This class makes the fly on my desk more interesting to observe.

Glazed eyes go his way. It may not look empty but is filled up with things good than taking the sleeping pill.

Tired of all this talk makes my mind wander. Wander to the books I want to read, movies and shows to watch, even to the time when I'll meet and gab with my friends. Dreams are interrupted. The person in front of me wakes suddenly as her papers fall from her grasp, jolting her senses. The sleeping pill takes effect. It takes effect on her but not me. I have to control my senses.

It makes me contemplate. All I've heard in this class, I've heard before. It's nothing new, nothing learned. I wonder what he takes to make him the cure to insomnia nights.

Freedom is forty minutes away. I look longingly at the door, the key to my escape. The great insomnia cure even wears the same shirt on Mondays. Maybe he has a Monday shirt. And a Tuesday shirt. even a Saturday shirt. Zzzzz... an overdose of sleeping pills can kill. Could he kill us with all these things he tells us? Makes me want to drop dead before he does do us in. But I haven't had a taste of the pleasures of life yet. Do I call it foul play? with intent to kill? Please put stilts before my eyes.

I must swallow this sleeping pill. But not much. I want to be awake to take the other sleeping pill, my eyes wide open.

an unearthed composition of a very bored 19 year old Patricia, during her rizal class in UP circa 1998.

time space warped

names have been changed to protect the innocent. *bleh*

the saga of shaider and annie part eleven

dear shaider,

i know we have been colleagues for so long. we've shared about a hundred coffee cups from the vending machine across the hall. we've watched reruns of king kong vs. godzilla over and over again while waiting for fumalear to strike again in the lounge. you held my hand while i cried over spilling bleach on the team uniforms. we've talked about anything under the sun, from my skirt being vertically-challenged (and my love for pink undies) to how you like smelling your boots in the morning.

but then again i have been having these secret feelings for you for so long too...i dunno if keeping it would be as painful as you not returning it. but as adelaide, our robot has adviced me, regrets are like choosing new oil for your engine instead of the usual. your engine might run 'nice' for a while but it won't last as long as your usual oil. without the usual your engine will rust and eventually have holes.

so here i am writing you this stupid letter. i like you really. maybe even love you. more than our cappucinos in the morning. or that drama i wait for at night. but then who am i to have your undivided attention? there are girls prettier than me. or maybe more experienced. in our field that is. it's scary that you have a big heart. because i might be reading more into how you are treating me. yet i am too still hopeful that in that big heart of yours, there might be a wee bit of a space for me.

i do wish you would reply in whatever manner you want. i am afraid to lose the friendship yet i think i am more afraid to lose the love. i am giving you space to think about the things that i have said. i'll be asking our general to assign me to distant g-10 in the dirdron galaxy. i will miss you.

sincerely,



annie






dear annie,

i had a sinking feeling you would be bringing up this subject soon enough. i felt it eversince that incident, when fumelear stepped over my boots and ruined it. you were so worried that we won't ever find its replacement.

i really don't know what to say. i value our friendship a lot. you are the only person i know who loves king kong vs. godzilla like i do. you are an exceptional girl, annie. you're very special to me. but then i'm still not ready to go into a relationship, especially now that fumelear's forces have moved into planet zorko. the general has assigned me a special roving task, i have to monitor it almost 24/7.

you're leaving me? who will replace you in the control booth? there will be no other control girl like you annie. not even alibaba, who can open doors with a snap of a finger. or was that wave of a hand? uh. whatever that is, we have chemistry. no other team can beat us. but if that is your decision, then i can't do anything about it...

can't you wait for me?
i will miss you sorely.



shaider

02/01/06

waiting for a cab

by the gate we stood
in the silence of morning
fleeting happiness

6/21/2005

the frog prince

nce upon a time in a kingdom not so far away there lived a princess, who was living a simple yet complicated life. she was often times heartbroken and would go to the small stream behind their castle to rant. the princess would cast her pains and sorrows to the stream, talking to herself, letting her tears create small ripples in the water.

one day as she was procrastinating, a frog suddenly jumps on a lily pad and starts talking to her. he wondered if they'd get along. they talked and talked about anything and everything. amazed at the wise words that the frog conveyed to her that the princess would now visit the stream hoping that she would be able to talk to him. the frog answered her questions and would console her, took her tortured heart by the hand and somehow healed her. finally someone who understood.

then out of the blue, during one of their talks, the frog asks for a kiss. though a bit taken aback, the princess obliges. after all they were friends now. the princess kisses the frog (or was it the frog who kissed the princess?) and he turns into a handsome prince. the kiss somehow changed the way things are with the princess and her newly found prince charming. they were still friends yet there was something building between them which got the princess confused.

prince charmings usually save the damsels in distress, and the princess felt like he did save her from misery. but suddenly things changed yet again. the prince after a while became busy with princely duties and 'man stuff' that he didn't have time for the princess anymore. they talked less and less. until the princess wondered if he still thinks about her. or even remembers her. and he disappeared without much of an explanation.

so the princess was lonely once again. she thought that maybe the frog prince would be different but in the end he was not. he was just the same as the prince charmings, who came and went, the ones that left scars on her heart. and this scar was deeper than the others. because she missed their talks. she missed their friendship. but it was too late now. the deed was done.

now the princess sits by the stream once more, creating small ripples in the water with her tears.

the end.

moral of the story:
princess
1. don't talk to strange frogs.
2. don't kiss frog princes. besides being warty they are still male.
3. the princess should hang out at other streams. or maybe just go to the town country fair.

frog
1. don't talk to broken hearted princesses. they are still vulnerable.
2. smart frogs should just remain friends with princesses who give them kisses.
3. frog princes should ask kermit the frog some pointers on being a good frog.

5/16/2005