Daily Prompt: Set a timer for ten minutes. Open a new post. Start the timer, and start writing. When the timer goes off, publish.
Let me introduce you to this little fella who is keeping me away from bed and in front of this computer and rendering overtime here. It’s almost half-past 10 and I’m still here. He’s a bit overly attached.
So for the fix, I’m gonna try to comment out this part.
Hmm this part too, maybe. (more…)
‘She’s definitely not 21′, the first thought that came into my mind the moment she pushed the glass door of the restaurant. Her black curly shoulder length hair was in disarray, lipstick stain on her lips and a hint of green eye shadows and an overly applied eyeliner made her eyes bigger. Her dark almond shaped eyes was examining the restaurant with curiosity that belongs to a child. She tilt her head sideways and put her hands on her hips. A dying cigarette on her hands. She’s wearing a black silky tube and a leather jacket (it was a bit hotter that night so I’m not really sure if she’s comfortable with it) and a mini skirt. A knee length boots to go along with her outfit.
She puffed one more time into her cigarette before tossing it into the nearest trash can beside the counter and approached the nearest table to the door, sat down in one of its couch-like chair. She crossed her leg and put her hands in the old brown table in front of her. Strumming her hands in the table to make her look cool (I guess) or maybe, she’s a bit bored of waiting for someone. The waiter in all white approached her but she said something to him and he went back on his way, a bizarre expression plastered in his face and scratching his hair.
I stood up, put on my hat and went to her. As I drew near her, she put her face between her hands revealing the luscious red nails– complementing her fair complexion and her eyes. She pouted for a while and stared into me, as if swallowing me into her whole world, and smiled. The flick in her eyes was instant– there was some kind of potions or whatever magic it was that made her look older, prettier. I almost took a step backward at that instant. She almost laughed at my reaction and fired her deadly question that sealed the event that night: “How much dearie? How much Mr. Donnovan?”.
First try for the Writing Challenge.
Daily Prompt: Read the story of Richard Parker and Tom Dudley. Is what Dudley did defensible? What would you have done?
I will always pray that I will never be in that situation. Never.
With the question of the actions of Dudley, I would definitely say that ideally it is wrong. Eating one of our own is one of the oldest taboo in human history along with the case of incest. But definitely, this act is not new to us; take for example the existence of the cannibals. Ideally and with all the moral related issue that we have learned from the society– this is an act that is not acceptable. But definitely, there is another side in this story. The issue of the survival of the fittest and the like– and the practicality of what to do in this situation. In my own honest opinion, it is not acceptable to kill the young Richard Parker because he has no wife and children and because he was weak. They should have done a draw lots for equality.
If I will be in that situation, I will definitely try my best not to resort into eating human flesh. Even though according to some that we are the most clean and definitely the most delicious meat in this world, eating one of our own is not just me. Maybe, I’ll starve myself to death. Maybe. I will never know and I don’t want to know.
Daily Prompt: If you could choose to be a master (or mistress) of any skill in the world, which skill would you pick?
If given this chance, I will definitely pick something that I’m lacking as of now– the skill of reading a map and setting up my direction. I am a direction failure person, I can’t remember where to turn to get to a certain place. I have this direction-problem ever since, not sure if it’s really true that women has this problem (I’m not an embodiment of the whole clan so don’t you ever generalize using me as one of your sample data).
If you have the power to give me this very useful skill, pretty please I’m begging you– give me the power to get me from one to place to the other without being lost in between.
There are always differences when people view what is perfect and what is not. Sometimes, it is the embodiment of the things that we can’t do or on other times, an upgrade of what we have right now. As for me(a little disclaimer: at this time),I will introduce you to my fantasy of the perfect life for Bunny.
This is Bunny by the way. He’s a 2-year old stuffed toy that my Mom got from a garage-sale-like-store. I think Bunny got a good glimpse of the world before meeting me. He maybe from the war or some sort of tour around the world and I’ll never know. Since he is mine now, so he will have some sort of my adventures.
This is the life of Bunny, a perfect little one in his own ways.
He sleeps until the sun’s up. He sleeps at night. He loves sleeping. And he sleeps whenever he wants to. Sometimes, he sleeps at noon, after long hours of playing. Bunny believes that sleeping is the answer to any problems that is related to health and beauty. And it always take away the stress. So on some stressful days where the sun is not up in his world, he sometimes turn to sleep to cheer him up. After a long and satisfying sleep, he can think clearly of solutions to his problems. That’s it.
He oversleeps sometimes but it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s a perfect world; so, he can do anything he likes. (more…)
He slammed the door as he left. The harsh thud it made echoed inside the room. I lay still in my bed. Staring into the wall as if it can give me all the answers to the questions I never had the chance to ask. I lay there as the time passed by. How long was it? How long will it take before he can forgive me? Or, even the chance of me forgiving myself? He told me it doesn’t matter anymore; that we still have each other and that is still a good thing to hold on.
But I can’t help to notice how he always try to fake a smile when his friends would come over for beer and they would start talking about how their cute little Junior had his first step, his first set of teeth and the like. And silently, I’m dying inside. It’s like reopening a scar over and over again– intensifying the pain over and over again. (more…)
I don’t like this or that.
Your shirt makes me wanna cry.
I don’t feel like eating and I’m hungry as a pig.
I don’t know why I’m angry.
I just wanna cry sometimes. Please don’t let me explain. Just let me cry.
I’m kinda lonely.
Nobody understands me.
I don’t even know what I want. Don’t ask me that question.
I hate myself.
I’m ugly. I hate being me.
Worse comes to worst, women of all ages has that particular week or days in a month that we don’t know what we feel. So don’t ask questions. You can do the dishes to make us feel a little better or maybe hug us tight. But a big NO NO with the act of asking: what’s wrong? Because sometimes, it’s not really you it is us. And we don’t have the slightest idea of what really is wrong.
Sometimes, we just woke up in the morning and everything is really wrong inside our heads. So don’t ask, okay? You can give a tight hug or whatever but please don’t ask why; this is part of my genetics.
I don’t really remember the scene or the time it took place but I still remember the words. Sounds like an introduction from a love story, right? But this is something more. I learned how to deal with life’s greatest and numerous problem. And it was from my junior adviser, she told me how to deal with the irritation that I usually feel when I need to do the dishes or the laundry or my homework.
“If you want to do something then do it, if not, then don’t do it. As simple as that. No need to feel the irritation for being forced to do something.”
And with that, I had been facing life quiet well ever since. It made me realize that everything is nothing but a choice. My happiness. My bitterness. My heartaches and even the things that will make me better or worst. Life is more about choices and not some well-defined destiny. It is your choices and my choices that is making this world as it is. Don’t blame the Man out there when something bad is happening. He gave us one of the most effective and powerful tool among all the organisms inhabiting the world– we have a free-will.
So don’t let anybody do it for you.
Choose when given the chance.
Choose when you need to and when you ought to.
You have one life. One shot at it. Don’t waste it with sadness and regrets. You might have heard about this for the hundred times now, but believe me they were right.
I choose the things I am now. And I choose to be happy with those choices. And I am happy that some people are also sharing it with me– we choose to talk rather than to fight.
I’m not the best giver of advice in this world but I had my fair share of life’s happiness and sadness and the roller-coaster twist that it can offer. I have some pieces of advice and it’s your choice to believe me or not.