Which is which? (What would I really be?)

Choosing between things I really wanted to do (or what I am really good at, I suppose) and things I am bound to do (or things which I did not wish to do at first) is very hard. I guess many people have been into this kind of dilemma, too.

But, the mere thought of choosing is already a pain in the ass – more when each weighs the same, though at different aspects. It’s like deciding whether to spend a lump sum to refurbish a mansion passed on from ancestors or to buy a brand new condo to live on. Both have advantages and disadvantages on the traditional and practical outlook, though.

It was when I step in college that choosing turned into a tight spot. My interests and not-supposed interests got mixed up. I wanted to study B.S. Accountancy but I ended up studying the simulation and programming of computers. Actually, I don’t have the pursuit on dealing with computers. Circumstances only brought me into this field.

What baffled me lately was the fact that the study I am into now offers lots of opportunities and probably breakthroughs. Rationality is slapping me straightly while my heart eagerly tells me to listen to her. I still have an option, though. But, am I really for banking or for technologies?

Aside from that, there is also this intense craving inside of me – to be an artist. Yes, I do really love sketching a lot of things and it makes my heart jumps whenever I expressed myself through it. Such fun and bliss would I feel whenever I do so.

Honestly, I have dreamed – and still dreaming on this very moment – to be a mangaka. Yes, I even already reserved my very own stories and characters for this dream. This inflamed more when I learned that my ever so notorious favorite band (My Chemical Romance) members are comic book artists. I do hope that I would turn out like them. So successful.

Up until now, discerning what I will become after ten years or so is hazy. I do not know. I might become somebody who I, or perhaps my family, would never expect me to become. I might end up the least I could be. Or perhaps, I might find myself in a quiet corner. Whatever it may be, I’ll gladly accept my fate. For sure, when that day comes, I’m mature enough to handle everything.

Not the Times of Yore

The rays of the sun kissed my cheeks and the hen’s cluck buzzed to wake me up. Time is telling me to get my back off the bed. I then went out the room to check what’s for the day. My mother is busy preparing our breakfast – fried rice and some scrambled eggs.  My sister is still asleep in our room so as my brother in the other room. My father is not there – even his shadow.

It’s 6:30 in the morning, a Sunday morning. This is a great time to start a whole day of relaxation after a week of sleepless nights, laborious projects, and hostile instructors. Thinking of the following week’s activities and more accountability makes me want to go back to bed again then sleep 24/7. But doing this for sure will give me the assurance to work three more times than the usual. Today is Sunday, the only rest day, so I must restrain myself from thinking draining toing and froing.

The T.V. programs are not yet that interesting for me so I sit near the window next to where my mother is cooking. I then look outside. A girl catches my attention. She looks pale. She is not playing with the other kids in the neighborhood. She is holding her ragged doll. I wonder why she is only standing next to the kids who are busy playing early in the morning.

A kid goes near the girl and invites her to play with them but she refuses. Another kid invites her but she refuses again. What’s wrong with her? This suddenly comes out my mind. I want to go to her but I can’t.

The kids in the neighborhood stopped playing then approach her. They are somewhat talking to her. I can see those in their mouths – moving slowly and taking some quick smiles. After a while, a boy offers her his hands and holds her. She squirms and neglects the boy’s attention. Her eyes are glowing hot. She is cussing the kids. I can clearly see it. She knows those kids are only pretending to care for her. The truth is they are parasites like lice in those abandoned dogs in their community.

The kids are slowly leaving her – one by one. She is alone again. What’s wrong with her? I ask myself for the second time. I want to speak with her. I want that ragged doll to be thrown away. I want her to smile even for a second. I want her to speak out. But I can’t do anything. The scene is crushing me. The girl is still holding the doll. Throw that doll away!  She can’t hear anything I say. I hope she would hear me saying those words soon.

The kids are going home one by one. The girl is left alone standing on the other side of the street. I know she is waiting for someone – someone who is a once part of her life. I know she wishes to bring back the times that have passed. I know her entreaty to change the past.

That girl on the other side of the street…nobody would understand her. Nobody took the chance to know her feelings, her inner thoughts. Nobody will because nobody has the courage to be au fait with her – even her dearly loved family.

I wish to hug her for a second to let her know that someone from her future has cared for her. I then take a last look at her and the ragged doll on her hands as she fades away.

My mom suddenly patted my shoulder and signaled that breakfast is ready. Before I could set myself for my morning meal, I went to my room then stood at the door. Memories played in my mind. This was the room where I used to play with my doll nine years ago.

Dear Myself,

Look at you. I can tell you’re so down right now as always. You have been like that for these past nineteen years. Haven’t you gotten tired of yourself already? I suppose that’s how you really are. More than anyone else, I’m the only one who knows you that much. Your inspirations, your sophistications, your miseries, your suppressed happiness, your wickedness – I’m your sole comfort and confidant for all of them.

But, for this once, I beg of your apology ‘coz I’ll be treacherous. I know you’ll despise a part of me after this but you should be considerate ‘coz I am bound of doing this task. I know how much you really hate it when somebody talks about you but there’s no other way to work things out. So, from here on, I’m gonna set off to end this traumatic blog.

I know there’s no point in predicting who you’ll be in the future and talking trashes about you past ‘coz you believe that everything happens just the way it is and who you are now makes up both of them. Though, you believe that what you are now is not who you really are inside. I can say this is the reason why you fail. You don’t fail ‘coz you can’t do any better; you fail ‘coz you intended to. (I hope, someday, you’ll be able to do things the way you wanted it to be.)

But still, I’m proud of you. You really got amazing goals. (I guess they’re that amazing for both of us.) To what age may it become possible, you are confident that you’ll live in Europe (in Italy or in England, perhaps) and see Vatican city for yourself then visit Harry Potter. Part of your goals, too, is to pass Quezon city first and meet 6cyclemind; then, go to California to rock My Chemical Romance and babysit Bandit Lee Way for a week. But, beyond those, you really got this ultimate goal in life – that is, to create your very own mangakas out of those dreams you had when you were seventeen and dreams that you’ll possibly have in the years to come.   

I am also proud of you ‘coz, even if you dreamed of living in Europe, you still love your motherland. I can clearly remember how you drew on your notebook the floor plan of your desired mansion that you planned to put up on a hill in Bogo city.

Before I end this blog, I’ll disclose a certain part of you that even your family don’t understand. You’re the type who isn’t interested in getting married nor being in a relationship. You despise being with a partner and you even dislike watching movies and animes with genre of pure-love-story. In short, you’re asexual. However, you still love and that love is only reserved for your family and friends. You really like yourself that way.

I bet, with this shocking revelation, others will finally understand you. Somehow. I know you really have a hard time expressing yourself to others. So, I guess you should thank me for this great favor.

Lovingly,

Your Alter Ego

P.S.

Dear myself, please remember every details (especially your goals) that I have written about you in this blog ‘coz all of these make up the whole of you. Be reminded that wherever you go and whenever you may be, you are still you and nothing will change about you as long as I am inside you. Though, this time I happen to betray you, but I will still stay by your side and be your sole confidant.

The Red Rose Victim

The kingdom is in great mourn.

The death of the king has divided the House of Lords and the House of the Commons. Even the servants of the royal family have separate views on whether the suspect is to be blamed or not. How could there be no division if the prime suspect of the king’s death is his only child, Princess Jezebeth.

Now here she comes. On her side are the king’s soldiers. Poor Princess, her beauty is now hidden in her tattered regalia. She hardly walks because of frailty. She restrained eating for weeks because she knows more than anyone else that she will finally return to her father’s arms.

The princess then settles herself inside the court room. This would be the last day of the princess’ trial.

The lawyer begins the trial by asking the princess in loathing tone, “Why did you kill the king?”

Before the princess could answer, a red smoke appears at the entrance of the courtroom. The princess can clearly see its red tail. The smoke, in its seemingly creature form, begins to murmur, tell them the truth…tell them the queen’s secret. The red smoke then slowly moves upwards the ceiling.

“I can’t answer your question Doctor Scratch be-because I am…I am not the king’s daughter.” Princess Jezebeth asserts her words with lowly eyes. The entire courtroom is flabbergasted of what they heard.

Doctor Scratch faces the audience and declares, “Our princess is telling us at this crucial point of her trial that our queen cheated our king all throughout this time.  And that, Princess Jezebeth killed the king to take over the kingdom because our princess knows that the kingdom would never be hers!”

“No, you’re wrong! The princess would never wish to own the kingdom for herself,” the queen interrupted.

“My Majesty, please take your seat. This trial won’t allow any interruptions even from you, Your Highness.” The Lord Chancellor has taken his authority inside the courtroom.

The queen sat down uneasily and was stunned, too, of what the princess has said. She now looks straight through the princess eyes. A lot of thought have gone into the queen’s mind. My princess. My poor princess would never wish to own this kingdom because hers is greater than this. How did she learn the truth? No… she must not. The truth will destroy the kingdom.

The Lord Chancellor turned its way back to the princess’ case. “Doctor Scratch, you may now proceed.”

“Thank you, Lord Chancellor.”Doctor Scratch moves towards the dock and looks at the princess with hostile eyes. “Princess, we all know that this is the last day of your trial. But, before this day ends, we want to know the truth of the king’s death. Let me ask you once again, why did you kill the king?”

The princess was calm – unlike her past 29 days inside the courtroom. She looks at the queen again and said, “I do not wish to answer your question, Doctor Scratch. Rather, I would like to correct what you’ve accused the queen earlier. The queen did not cheat the king because the queen could not bore a child.”

The queen was stunned this time. This is the end of all. The crowd begin to babble.

“Order in the court! Order in the court!” the Lord Chancellor shouted as he rapped the gavel. After a while, there is silence inside the courtroom. The Lord Chancellor, with shaking voice, then says, “Doctor Scratch…please, proceed...”

“Yes, My Lord.” The Doctor Scratch then proceeded to the interrogation. “Thank you for making this trial easier, princess… Oops, my bad. I mean, Jezebeth.” Doctor Scratch leans in the dock. “Jezebeth, I would like to remind you that this trial is not about your existence. What we need to find out is the truth about the king’s death.” Doctor Scratch is more desperate this time to end the trial. “Why did you kill the king!”

“I did not kill the king,” the princess answered directly with no doubt in her eyes. She turns to the crowd. The red smoke is only a meter away from her.

“But, you were the only person in the king’s room where he was found dead by the king’s servant.” The trial is now getting hot. “I’ll ask you for the last time. Why did you kill the king!”

The princess pauses for a while as the red smoke kisses her cheeks. She then answers the question. “I was…I was there because…because the king was trying to kill me.”

“You are not telling the truth! The king could not cause you any harm because he was already bedridden for a month before he was killed. And, the entire kingdom knows about this truth.”

The princess suddenly stands up and exclaimed, “The king was bidding me from going home. The queen was aware of this because she was doing the same. You have given my father no other choice but to kill the king.”

“Why are you blaming your crime to a person who never....”

Clunk!!! The chandelier fell from the ceiling. The trial was suddenly stopped. Then, all of the people inside the courtroom began to run wild when a red smoke began to appear on the ceiling.

A woman from the crowd rushed towards the princess and spanks her causing the princess to kiss the ground. “This is your fault! Cast away your curse in this kingdom…”

As the princess looks into the woman, the red smoke in the ceiling turned into a huge dreadful creature. It has no body. It’s only a hot-red head with two horns on top of it and a tongue as red as its face. Upon seeing this horrible creature, all of the people inside the room rushed outside of fear. The creature is restive and is looking for someone. It had move for so many times around the room for two meters per second. Its groan covers the courtroom making the place a horror.

The woman who had beaten the princess was now half-way the entrance. But, the creature won’t allow her to escape from its wrath. After it devours the flesh and soul of the woman, the creature puffs back into a red smoke and then it vanished.

Everything is destroyed inside the courtroom and it’s filled with horror. Only the Lord Chancellor, the queen, Doctor Scratch, some of the king’s soldiers, and the princess are left inside the room.

“Arrest the princess!” the Lord Chancellor commanded the soldiers without any doubts. “Execute her!” The soldiers then escorted the princess to the Execution room.

“Stop!”It was the queen trying to speak despite the deep wounds she got after the mayhem. “You’re worsening the situation.” Nobody listens to her plead. The queen has now lost it all – this is the end of the kingdom. She slowly falls down on the floor facing the entrance of the room. She sees the ruthless soldiers forcing the princess to go with them. Thoughts play in her mind again. I should have not stolen you from the Witch cave. I should have taken the red rose, instead.

The red smoke began to appear again.

Note: This is an original story by Red Phantom.

Muling Pagtibok ng Puso

Pauwi na noon si Andag mula sa kabilang bayan. Katatapos lang nyang makipagkalakalan. Ngunit mabigatbigat pa rin ang dala ng kanyang sinasakyang tila karwaheng walang bubong sa likuran. Hindi naubos ang ikinalakal nyang kopras.

        Biglang lumakas ang ihip ng hangin. Nagsimula naring magdilim ang paligid. Bumagsak ang pagkalakaslakas na ulan. Dumulas ang daang tinatahak nya. Hindi na mahagilap ni Andag ang patutunguhan. Binilisan na lang nya ang pagtakbo ng sasakyan nang sa gayon ay maiwasan nya ang muling paglakas ng ulan. Subalit biglang bumitaw sa pinagkakabitan ang gulong ng kanyang sinasakyan. Dumahilig ang kanyang ito at sumunod ang isang malakas na hiyaw. Nagdilim ang paningin ni Andag.

        Naaninag nya ang isang liwanag. Dahandahan nyang inimulat ang mga mata. Dagli syang bumangon. Hindi nya ang alam ang kanyang kinahihimlayan. Nasa papag sya ng isang hindi kilalang bahay. Bumukas ang pinto ng silid ng kanyang kinalalagyan. Pumasok ang isang dilag. Maamo ang kanyang mukha.

        “Nasaan ako?” usisa ni Andag. Hindi sumagot ang dilag. Sa halip ay inilapit sa panauhin ang dalang pagkain at pamunas. “Bakit ako nandito? Anong lugar ito?” tanong muli ni Andag.

        “Huwag kang mag-alala. Ligtas ka na. Mabuti pa ay magpahinga kang muli nang sa gayon ay mabawi mo ang iyong lakas.” Kinuha ng dilag ang tela. Inilublob ito sa tubig saka pinuga. Pinunasan nya si Andag.

        Iniwakli ni Andag ang kamay ng dilag. “Anong ginagawa mo...teka, sino ka ba? Bakit mo ako pinagsisilbihan ng ganito? Ni hindi mo alam kong masama akong tao,” paalala ni Andag sa dilag.

       “Bakit ako magdadalawang isip na tulungan ang isang taong nangangailangan ng tulong ko. May sugat ka pa. Hindi mo pa kayang umuwi sa inyo...” Inilapat muli ng dilag ang tela. Hindi na umayaw si Andag. Pinabayaan nya ang dilag na punasan ang mga sugat nya. Kinain rin nya ang pagkaing inilapag ng dilag sa kanyang harapan.

       Pagkalipas ng ilang oras sa silid, nagpasyang lumabas na ang dilag.

       “Kung may kailangan ka, tawagin mo lang ako...” Binuksan nya ang pinto. “Sya nga pala...Mansiginao ang pangalan ko...tawagin mo lang ang pangalan ko at pagsisilbihan kitang muli Andag.” Ngumiti ang dilag at saka lumabas ng silid.

       Namangha si Andag. Hindi nya inikalang makakatagpo sya ng isang dalagang walang pag-aalinlangang tumulong sa kapwa. Iyon ang una nilang pagkikita.

       Pagdating ng bukas ay sinimulan na ni Andag ang pagkukumpuni ng kanyang sasakayan. Tinulungan sya ng ama ni Mansiginao, si Makalangan. Inabot sila ng hapon sa pagkumpuni kaya nasa tabi lang nila si Mansiginao upang maghandog ng makakain.

       Mula noon, sa tuwing makipagkalakalan si Andag sa kabilang bayan, hindi nya kinalilimutang puntahan ang dalagang minsan nang nagligtas ng kanyang buhay.

Note: This is an original story by Red Phantom.

 

 

The Rising Sun

Wary of what would tomorrow bring

A rubbish persona has begun his fiddly acts.

Everything would soon vary in million ways

Inside this green labyrinth.

Cries  are heard from here below

Many are frightened of his filthy game

Blubs surely make him fall down, laughing

While criticizing the poor souls in front of him.

We know, it’s only a hoax.

Still, it doesn’t make any difference.

All of the wrongs made are done.

It’s payback time for him.

Then after he draws his daggers on the offenders

They will all vanish like a mystery

‘Til  the time everybody realizes the errs

Up to the time when everybody sees

The next Rising Sun casts its rays.

Note: This is an original poem by Red Phantom.

Graveyard of Hopes

Big trucks with mucky loads are my morning and evening alarm clocks. Each time they passed by me, I am warned to back off. I couldn’t do anything but stand still and witness the aftermath.

Those trucks would then start to fall in line as if giant ants gathering food for the colony. If they could have been real ants, I would be bliss by now. Those trucks would recklessly throw out their loads as if it were too much of a burden.

Every day…those cold-hearted trucks are doing the same. It’s as if they don’t notice the mess they are putting up every time they throw out their loads here. How can those trucks carry the same large amount of loads every time they come over this place?

It’s getting worse. They’re throwing out too much – too much that I cried witnessing how sickening it have become here.

They’re creating a monster. A mount of monster. It’s getting taller – four times taller than I am now. It’s getting wider – too wide enough to turn into a grave of thousands of citizens. How can they let this happen?

Now, I am starting to believe that grandpa has deceived me when I was little. He used to tell me that living in this world is the nicest thing that would ever happened to our likes. But now, where is the cool flowing river that we used to root minerals? Where is the gentle fresh breeze of wind that used to sway our leaves? Where are the green grasses that were supposed to surround us with delight?

Even though I say that I’m getting use to this adverse scenery, it still hurts.

If only those trucks had only brought here the decomposable wastes in the beginning, I would have helped them. But, it’s too late now. This place is hopeless. Even if they’ll stop bringing here plastics and styros, even if they’ll shut this place down, the damage made will never be repaired.

Those ecological wastes that they are starting to feed in this place are useless. My roots will never be able to reach and grab them anymore.

This literary article is dedicated to Cebu City’s Inayawan dumpsite.  

Inconceivable Fear

I have treated you way more than kins

Have been submissive to your wishes

Have heeded to your cries

Have given you almost my everything --

My love, my self-respect.

I have forgiven you

Once, twice, thrice

A hundred times.

Never denies your disgraceful

apologies

Given you  worth more than a diamonds

But still

You mashed my pride

You slaved me to death

Crashed down what is left of me

Showed to me what grave is like

While I am still breathing.

You have buried me alive --

Countless times already.

Now, I want to let go of you

And have some self-pity of myself.

I want to erase you entirely in my life 

Even for once, even for this time only

Even for this day

But I can't.

I can't dare not to talk.

I can't pretend and shout, "I don't care!"

Even though you caused me blood of tears,

I still can't ignore you 

'Coz I love you so much

More than the worth of my life.

Note: This is an original poem by Red Phantom.