Nap Time Rocks!

untitled continued, #5: Desire, quite different from the one in Gaiman’s imagination, was someone.

She breathed and lived and did things a normal girl would do. And she felt. It was her very nature, one that is governed by things immeasurable and incomprehensible. At times she scared even herself.

I remembered. I still sat where I remember sitting, I still heard the same sounds. But something was different. She’s here.

She was chasing me and I ran. I ran until I couldn’t, until she finally caught up and said, “You can’t run from me forever, miss. I have something for you.” She delivered a package. A package, for me? I didn’t think anyone even knows me. “Yes, it’s for you. Go ahead and open it.”

The wrapper was a bit worn out presumably because of all the chasing. I was battling between opening it and keeping it as it is until I was alone. But curiosity got the best of me and I tore open the wrapper (which was quite ordinary in nature) and stood awestruck at the thing before me. It was she who stopped me reverie.

“It’s for you miss. You wished for it.” And with those words, she left me in peace. It wouldn’t be the last time that I will see her.

I could not, for the life of me, recall when and where I wished for such a thing. Maybe somebody remembered my birthday and sent me a gift. But surely that someone is important. The gift could not have been bought at any price imaginable. A note accompanied the gift. It read:

“For you. Accept my gift as a sign of my steadfast love.”

It was signed with a name that was familiar but I could not recognize.

untitled continued, #4: I opened my eyes and inhaled the dusty air of the old room.

I’ve been running for quite some time now, sometimes stopping to catch my breath. It had been brighter outside when I stopped here. Now I could only see my shadow cast by the light outside.

He stopped to buy something from that man, some food I think. He’ll spend the night here.

The dancing lights came back, but this time there was loud music. It was joyous, festive, a certain sign of a celebration nearby. I had to go out and see. Surely, he’d be there too.

People were dancing. They were talking. Eating, singing, and telling jokes. I had no one to chat with, so I wandered about, hoping to catch a sight of him. Being here alone takes the pleasure away of mingling with these strange people. And I am quite preoccupied looking for him. I’m growing tired already, so I sit down in a corner and amused myself by watching the people around me and listening to their conversations. I tried remembering why I was there.

The princess’ name was Desire. She wanted to draw and so she did. She wanted to dream, and dream she did. She wanted to love, and so…

untitled continued, #3: In the dark there are dancing lights.

Go ahead, close your eyes and feel them. Don’t look, just feel.

Away in the moonlight they’d often walk, she and him. They were always together in that dark, furtive place no one can define. Not even the King’s wisest wizards can figure out the mystery of that place. It is the realm of creatures like fairies and dwarves, of monsters and magic.

He called out her name.

“Princess,” it was an unnerving calmness.

“But it isn’t time yet. I don’t want to go back,” But she didn’t know there are quite dangerous creatures in that place. They eat the unseen, feeding on sanity. Sometimes, there are things that play with the reasons of the heart.

“Princess,” he called out again, in a more imploring manner. The dancing lights begin to fade.

untitled continued, #2: Shades in red

“Mom I want to be a news writer.” So began her dream. Pieces of pad paper conspired to be the broadsheet of the day. The headlines would read different stories; happening in a world she hardly is acquainted with. School, her home, and the Church were her entire world.

The little princess built her dream castles in a few pages of Yasaka writing paper, sometimes Mead if and when mom would buy them. Local writing pads were much cheaper, though.

Actually, the little princess wanted something more. She wanted to be an artist just like her dad. But during those days being a doctor or a pilot would be a more appropriate ambition. Nevertheless, her dad bought her the Crayola 72-color set. For the meantime, these pieces will do. In time passing, these colors would be replaced by a new peculiar shade of red.

“I think I like him,” the princess tells her bestfriend. “He makes me smile.”

© 2004

There you go… it took me quite a while to figure out why the links wouldn’t show up.

I’m still wating for the mood to hit before I write the susunod na kabanata. No, it’s not a love story, although I wanted to write it that way originally. Can you give me something to work on?

alright, it’s valentine’s day, and i choose the best day to start my own spot.

ahh finally, i just jumped into the bandwagon of my friendsters and blogger friends. it’s amusing, really. how else do you waste someone’s time and talk (or write) about just whatever you want? hehe.

isn’t the world such a weird place? i mean, there’s just so much love on valentine’s day that makes you wonder, where does it all go the day after that?

untitled #1

It was there I saw him. He had knelt in the dark, in the ignorance of the toxic feelings that surrounded him. I longed to be nearer.

I waited in the shadows and closed my eyes.

This is a story about a familiar place in my life, which could also be in yours. You see, I’m not really a writer, nor am I a story teller. But I have feelings and a pretty dramatic imagination, just like you, and I wanted to make it a little more interesting than simply writing down “I am depressed today” or “I am really happy today” on paper. And for the cynic in you, whatever it is you choose to loath, go and loath some more. I know, I’m a cynic myself. I hate clichés but what I’m about to write, which is actually a part of my life, is also one big formula.

Every little girl wants a Barbie. Maybe even a Lego set. I wanted the gold Toyota Camaro Matchbox from my brother’s collection. Then she wants a pretty dress to wear on Sundays, when they go home to pay a visit to Lola, when it’s her friend’s birthday party (who happens to be the only other little girl in the street), and every other special occasion in between.

Give or take a couple more years and she wants more coloring books with more drawings and figures to color in. Throw in a complete set of Crayola 72-color set. And maybe some paintbrushes and those Barbie coloring books that you only need water to color it.

Early in her life, the little princess got nearly everything she wanted. It was the pursuit of the desires that she came to know and soon, to love.

&copy 2004