Loneliest

There we were
stuck in a busy street
everything around us
moved ever so swiftly

But not us,
we just stood there
not a flinch  —
motionless

Noisy as the avenue was,
the only sound I could hear
was the silence between us —
ear-splitting, deafening

I wanted so much to scream
but I couldn’t even utter a word
as I was already drowning
in my own thoughts,

Lost in the conversation
we were having inside my head.

Choke

About to say somethin’
but faltered
eyes swollen,
red and tired!
What has become of us?
Oh, thought this would last!
Loving you
I, dying
Anger inside!
Lump in my throat
Burn in my eyes
Stab in my heart
Emptiness of your love!

One day, I won’t give a damn to what you feel.

I wish I could tell you how I really feel. I’m used to concealing my feelings no matter how heavy they are. I used to love the pain. No, I didn’t ignore the pain, in fact, I embraced it. But this time, one of those rare moments, I just don’t know how to handle it anymore. I just want to blow. I need to let this out, but there’s no sense in doing so if you’re not telling it to the person you have an issue with. Which actually makes it worse, because I don’t have the courage to confront that person. I’ll feel guilty if I do. Thus, I always resort to just keeping it all to myself.

I always end up as if I’m the bad person, which is not the case. I am the one being oppressed and stepped on here.

I wish I could just one day not give a damn to what others might feel just as long I could let this all out.

Pandora’s Box

In my literary criticism class, our teacher asked us to right the line “It was a dark and stormy night when ____ went out to the kitchen and _______.” He asked to fill in the blanks. After we did, we passed our paper to the person next to us, then that person will write his/her own sentence, then pass it to the person next to him, who will, again write his/her own sentence, and so on …. there were more than 30 of us! When I got back my paper, I tell you, it was hilariously funny! It was a disaster but a fun acticity. I should have copied what was written there. Anyway, so our teacher asked us to write another story based on what was written on our paper during the activity. We could change the story a little bit, but make sure that we it will still stick to theme of the original paper. So here’s how I fixed my hilarious paper.

Pandora’s Box

It was a dark and stormy night when Pandora went out to the kitchen and scribbled some words on her diary. An hour had passed and she still didn’t have any inkling what to write. So, she went to the bathroom instead and took some drugs, Xanax and Exerox. Then she went to her room and slept.
Pandora woke to a sudden jolt when she heard a loud thud outside the house. She was petrified when she peered through the window and saw an eerie thing that crashed into her dog’s house. Holding her revolver, she went to the garden. She shrieked when she found Spark, her hound, lifeless, laying on its own pool of blood.
Pandora stopped crying when she saw the thing that smashed and slayed Spark in an instant. She was frightened when she saw a green, mucky fluid coming out of the machine. It was a huge metal object, the same size as Spark’s doghouse, but looked much heavier. She hesitated at first, but was curious enough to see who or what was inside it. To her dismay, there was no one there – or should I say nothing was there. She anticipated seeing a something extra-terrestrial, or a Martian. She decided to go inside the house to call the cops, but she heard screeching sounds from that weird thing. When she turned to look at the machine, a flying green light hit her. She fainted.
Three days after, Pandora finally awakened. She was feeling great, energized. She went straight to the mirror. She was uncertain of what she was, but at the same time amazed. No, she her skin didn’t turn green, but her hair did, and her eyes looked like emeralds. Other than that, it was still her face but prettier … and no more zits.
She remembered the machine, so she hurried to the backyard her surprise, it wasn’t there anymore, and so was Spark.
Days passed by and Pandora got used to the changes. She felt stronger. She didn’t have to wear glasses because her vision was crystal clear. She could write a thousand stories in a day. She did everything in haste and accuracy.
Thirty days after the incident, a man came to Pandora’s house. He introduced himself as Peter Parker. He asked, “Do you recognize this?” Pandora denied. He told Pandora that it struck his house about a month ago, and something uncanny happened to him after a red flying thing hit him. “How many are we?” she thought to herself, “but how did he find me?”
Reading her thoughts, Peter explained that he works in NASA. They actually spotted five unknown flying objects that night, but authorities never found where it landed. “So, there are five of us? Do they know about you?” Pandora asked. Peter answered, “No, I didn’t tell them. See Pandora, after that night, I felt somewhat … strange and powerful.” Peter talked about all the changes in his body. And so did Pandora talked about hers.
After a long talk Pandora asked, “What should we do, Peter? I never felt this great in my whole life, but I’m scared. What if the wrong people find out about us? What should we do?” Peter replied with great enthusiasm, “Don’t worry, Pandora. You are not alone. We will help each other. We will find the others.”
Without a second thought, Pandora moved in speed and packed her things. A minute after they were inside her truck. Before she turned on the ignition, she took a deep breath. “I hope we are doing the right thing, Peter. I hope … I hope nothing bad happened to the others.” Peter touched her hands and said, “Look. Nothing bad happened to us. I’m sure the other three are okay, too.” Pandora smiled and started the engine.
“So, where do we head first?” Pandora asked as she drove the truck out of her garage.

Clout

You used to be my every little thing.
You were my milky way,
My moon, my sunshine, you made my life gay,
And now you’re nothing.

Don’t hate me for moving on,
After all the pain that you’ve caused me
I’ve finally opened up my eyes, and now I see
That you never loved me, I reckon.

Seeing you again is the last thing I’d want,
So stop bugging me and just leave.
There’s nothing you can do now, but sigh, heave
Because forgiving you, I just can’t.

And if you ever see me somewhere,
I recommend you just go ahead and flee
For your face is a sight I loathe to see
So don’t you even dare!

By the way, I’ve told all your friends what you really are
A scumbag, a douche, most of all a phony.
No, don’t think that I’d ever feel sorry
Remember, it was you who gave my heart a scar.

Lastly, there’s something I need you to know.
I’m better and stronger,
You can’t ruin my life now, not ever.
I can no longer stoop on your level, it’s just too low.

Let Altruism Prevail

Living in this era, it’s hard to abnegate myself from worldly things. Temptation is everywhere, and denying me from one is not that easy. This generation is a cohort of people with crab mentality. Sadly, it triumphs over selflessness.

However, if you don’t mind being the underdog and be selfless, it’s not really that hard. In fact, it’s easier than being egocentric. One is not required to do a massive change in the domain to consider him as noble. Great things start from small ones. One simple act makes the world a difference.

I couldn’t really tell you anything about a time when I was being selfless, because with selflessness comes humility. If I tell you about an instance I was noble, I think that it would lose its essence. I don’t even consider myself as self-sacrificing, because when I do things, anything, I don’t think of myself as being unselfish. I just do whatever it is that I think is right, and I’m not being prude or anything.

Maybe I’ve done such selfless acts in my life, but for the past few days that I’ve been drilling my mind about it, not one thing popped into my mind. So, maybe I could tell you about my ultimate dream that, I think, involves selflessness in a hope to save the future generation.

My heart goes out for kids, especially the less fortunate, the street children to be precise. I want to help in educating them the basics of life like reading, writing, math, and of course, values. I don’t have the money to build an orphanage or send one to school, but that’s one of my dreams. It might take me a lifetime before I could build a small school for them, so I’d settle for less, for now.

I want to be able to build their dreams, give them hope, and guide them to the right path. I am disgusted whenever I see parents pleading for money in the busy and filthy streets tagging their little kids with them! That is a sight I always dread, and I hope to one day help in resolving that issue in one way or another.

I adore who people who have big and kind hearts, who go out of their ways to educate the less fortunate, and one day, I know I will join them in their drive to save the kids from their unknown future.

Obsessed

She’s perfect, fine and dandy
Yet praises won’t ever suffice
To show how much I adore her.

Her soul is free from cruelty
She could be an angel in disguise,
a delicate flower.

Little lassie is such an eye candy,
These are not lies
I’d kill to be her lover.

At night, I dream of her naked body
Oh, that would be a great surprise
To sleep with her, I’d shudder.

One day, it will be a reality
I’ll hold her until my demise
Forever in my heart, I will keep her.

Hermit

I’ve lost everything and knew it’s the end of me
I feel cynical towards living, the entirety.
I’m through pleasing people
What a thing to do, so trivial.

Being reclusive is now what I’m good at
No, I don’t give any crap
I mean, why would I?
I’d be alone when I die.

What’s the point of being with someone?
I’ll be on my own when they’re done.
No, I’m not asking for your pity
I don’t need it, not really.

I’m just tired of hearing people’s excuses
Behind you, they just make faces
It’s a world full of phonies
Yes, a shameful reality.

But, this I tell you
I’m not like them, true
Call me insurgent, or whatever
I’ll end this thing here.