Truth Behind the Lies

We need to talk he said.
I stared back to my laptop idly reading random things. I knew what was coming. I knew that talk was coming. I was hinted when he, my step-father texted minutes ago. But I just let him to come into my room. He sat on the other bed staring at the other side of the wall. I was silent waiting for him to speak and to receive that glaring question that I never wanted to hear. And then he finally spoke, “Are you okay? Are you depressed? Is there something wrong with you? Are you sick?”

How To Kiss A Butterfly: A Night Filled with Silence

That fateful night...
...when the noisy streets of Manila lay silent after Election Day.

Its past 2am, I stare at the window while I sit on the upper bunk bed -- my younger brother, now sleeping below me); his dog, Bran, a shitzu, half-awake somewhere in the room -- as the dead silence should've set me to sleep, moreover the time (for its way past my bedtime LOL) but I'm not sleepy yet.

The Awkward Book Excitation

Today will be another hot weather, at least from what it seemed; or probably I'll be talking about a different kind of hot matter or something to that effect but who's speculating?

It was past 6 am, I glanced at the window of my brother's apartment in Manila (of which I'm staying for the mean time while I look for work or something interesting to do with my life :D ). So I just lie there, on the bed thinking, what in the hell should I do today? Half-asleep I scrambled to get my cellphone, there was no message. A friend and colleague of mine, Mitch is still flat on her bed sleeping nearby. So I close my eyes instead.

How To Kiss a Butterfly: The Letting

Note: This is the continuation to my previous blog which is The Forgetting (click link here)

She was hesitant to open the door, in whatever that lies behind it -- in whatever shaped shadow that lurks beyond that passage -- this frightens her. She must contemplate and fight the emotions she had. She just stood still as the adrenaline rush deliberately fills through her but all she can feel were gone.

She's bruised from smashing the cracked mirror long ago. Her knuckles are sore and red but she barely feels the pain or anything for that matter. Some necessary foresight is abound, a downplayed clarity hence the sensitivity of the matter is truly a reckoning. Moreover, judgement for those who are herewith and whom has spit fire shall pay.

How To Kiss a Butterfly: The Forgetting

She remembers looking at innocence and watching as it slowly breaks. As the light in her small room -- a gentle quaint soul of a young at heart -- shaken by the unconventional, shapen by the world she's in.

Her silence was a masquerade for she was in the darkness; shattered. And there are days where you just need to be you; so shove your mouth and think profoundly. She's speechless, humming out of tune.

How To Kiss A Butterfly: Life on Ice

I would try to come out laughing, watch my coffee turn cold; the fizzle in my eyes gone. As I stare at my half-empty cup like a weary kid, stuck in some kind of unresolved dilemma (only known to oneself).

It is like finding beauty to what lies ahead, this I said to myself.

I turn my head to the opposite direction and watch whatever unfolds in the horizon. Time goes by, in a blink of an eye, momentary still pictures circle in my head; my wordings are abit dry, wishing I could have said something unusual instead, but I never did.

The Birthday Song (Good, Better, Best)

Question: What do people sing on birthdays, when the actual Happy Birthday To You Song wasn't composed yet? I mean back in the olden days since this song was made in 1893.

Any takers?