who gonna dig the tunnel ???
|
Posted:Sep 11, 2008 6:29 am
Last Updated:Jan 11, 2009 2:46 pm 8719 Views
|
When I was about eleven-twelve years old, I dreamed of having my very own house, and since my taste that time was not refined yet and my knowledge of the world somewhat limited; it will and shall be none other than -a nipa hut. At least that’s how it started. A beautiful cute one bedroom place made of bamboos and grass.
While I was lying down each night pretending sleep so my father will not tan my hide, the blue print of my precious was taking shape in my young brain. There it was, the house, sitting in the middle of a small garden surrounded with gorgeous greener than green plants and multi-coloured flowers. Rare wild orchids (which btw I handpicked myself from far away jungles and mountains during one of my so many dangerous adventures and quests) were hanging lusciously in the cosy balcony making love with the wind.
But wait a minute… I’m all alone, I need to protect myself, I’m a girl after all (therefore more prone to danger than boys ha ha) and brittle bamboos and fragile grasses will not do the trick. How about sandwiching bricks between the outer and inner walls? Well, that is seems a good idea. And since I’m at it already, how about reinforce my fort? I am living a dangerous life after all. Okay… bullet proof windows would be suitable, so nobody could touch me in my sleep. Talking about sleep… how could I know that someone is sneaking at me while I was deep in my slumber? Think! Think! Okay… surveillance cameras! Monitors at the foot of my bed, control panel on the headboard for easy access, done! I could finally sleep.
But wait… what about escape? In case? I bolted upright! I have to design an escape route in case my enemy managed to get in (or better, before they can get in) A tunnel, (heading out to the sea = I don’t know why the sea! = where my whatever was park) the entrance hidden under my bed which by the way can flip over to be replace by an identical bed so nobody would notice that I was gone. That would certainly buy me sometime to head somewhere far. Okay, that would do it. I will sleep now, over and out.
But who gonna dig the tunnel? I could not possibly dig it all by myself! And since I’m not an engineer and nowhere near an architect, someone has to design and build it for me. That’s a bit dangerous no? I have to keep it a secret, nobody must know it exists! Or otherwise I will be in great danger! And the only way to keep it hidden is… if I get rid of them all! That’s an excellent idea - if I’m a murderer, but since I’m not and never will be (I hope) I better give up the idea of building my precious.
And that is why I didn’t end up living in a cute and simple, peaceful nipa hut.
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
Hey...
|
Posted:Sep 9, 2008 6:57 pm
Last Updated:Sep 15, 2008 2:27 am 9685 Views
|
Come on over here and show me what you got.
|
|
|
1
comment
|
|
R
|
Posted:Sep 8, 2008 7:33 pm
Last Updated:Sep 22, 2008 5:42 am 12673 Views
|
A bimbo walks across the road
Turning on her bitchy mode
Blond hair, blue eyes
Thin pole that are really thighs.
There comes a surfer bloke
Tough buff Australian folk
Striding with his surfer board
Walking towards his silver ford
The bimbo spots the pair
One silver one fair
There she goes, strutting her legs
Her perfume reeks, get some pegs
“I want a ride!” she screeches
The bloke checks out her features
Hand on hip, she stomps her foot
The guy really doesn’t give a toot
“listen honey” he starts
“I’m not into breaking hearts
But I’ll tell you this today
I’m actually a gay”
|
|
|
2
Comments
|
|
colourful
|
Posted:Sep 7, 2008 4:17 pm
Last Updated:Sep 16, 2008 6:54 am 10933 Views
|
It’s one of these days again… feeling like a caged animal, trapped, restless; literally climbing the wall, wanting to be free. There is this itch, don’t know where so, cannot scratch it. Probably in the brain, not sure of. Eating itself inside. Nothing works! Not even colourful pills. Sh*t!!! Don’t know anymore!
|
|
|
2
Comments
|
|
unwashed
|
Posted:Sep 4, 2008 7:13 pm
Last Updated:Sep 24, 2008 6:52 am 28419 Views
|
I swim sometimes. Especially early in the morning when there are no people yet and the water is still clean. But because I used to swim in pure natural spring water (falls in the Phil. Swimming pools feed by running water fresh from the mountain etc.) I have something against liquid full of chlorine where a lot of un/washed bodies are dipped in. So, even though I love swimming, I rather not…
M. and I will never become best of friends (as if I can be a best friend to anybody ha ha) Too much differences. One of them is shallowness. The rest is because she’s a woman with typical women’s characteristics. Scary. But it didn’t stop us from swimming with each other from time to time. (Better than being alone with those un/washed mostly white bodies) We didn’t share a cubicle before that one and last time. Usually, she came earlier or later than me. But that one single time, we arrived simultaneously and I didn’t remember anymore the reason why we decided to undress in the same space. Probably, all other dressing corners were occupied. Anyway, we ended up in the same room. And guess what happened next?
The moment she removed her clothes, I smelled it. C’mon, we all know what is the smell of an unwashed v*gina. Men know it, women most of all. We (ladies) carry the source all the time. I am a very clean person. Cleaner than usual. But once and a while, especially when I’m travelling(I know wipes exist) or whatever, there are moments that I don’t like the smell of myself (even it’s only a feeling of) And if someone would tell me, it never happened with her, she’s definitely lying. We all experience it from time to time.
But it never happened that it comes to the point that another human being can smell it from a distance, I’m sure of it. But I smelled her. Even without removing her underwear yet. I was perplexed. I thought WE Filipinas are clean. In fact, I was really, really convince that we are the most hygienic people here on earth. Especially about our own person. We wash each time we visit the little room. We changed under pants at least twice a day or more. We avoid putting on the same garments twice without washing them first. Name it. I know we’re clean! That’s why I’m shock!
Since then, I noticed that the smell is always present when she’s close by or in the neighbourhood. I thought I was imagining it. So much so that to convince myself, I gather all the courage and opened up the topic with a common acquaintance. (One must be special enough to be qualified to call her “friend” And surprise, surprise!
I’m not the only one! She didn’t only confirm my suspicion; she said that others smell it too. I was so relief. Imagine… if it’s me I smelt instead of her.
None of us has the courage to bring the subject to her attention. Not even me.
Since I’ve met D. and moved to another city, I never see or hear anything about her anymore. I hope she learned to take better care of herself not only for her own good but for the people she’s socializing with and her swim-mate(s) because since that incident in the shower stall, I never swim with her again.
And I keep thinking what her husband must say about it…
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
So F*CK you anyway
|
Posted:Sep 3, 2008 9:37 am
Last Updated:Sep 7, 2008 6:30 am 8545 Views
|
To that D.O.M of blogsville. I MEAN IT.
There's a look on your face I would like to knock out
See the sin in your grin and the shape of your mouth
All I want is to see you in terrible pain
Though we won’t ever meet I remember your name
Can't believe you were once just like anyone else
then you grew and became like the devil himself
Pray to God I think of a nice thing to say
But I don't think I can so f__ you anyway
You`re a sc*m, you`re a bum and I hope that you know
That the cracks in your smile are beginning to show
Now the world needs to see that it's time you should go
There's no light in your eyes and your brain is too slow
Can't believe you were once just like anyone else
Then you grew and became like the devil himself
Pray to God I can think of a nice thing to say
But I don't think I can so f___ you anyway
Bet you sleep like a with your thumb in your mouth
I could creep up beside put a g*n in your a$$
Makes me sick when I hear all the sh*t that you say
So much crap coming out it must take you all day
There's a space kept in hell with your name on the seat
With a spike in the chair just to make it complete
When you look at yourself do you see what I see?
If you do, why the f___ are you looking at me?
There’s a time for us all and I think yours has been
Can you please hurry up cos I find you obscene
We can’t wait for the day that you’re never around
When that face isn’t here and you rot underground.
Can’t believe you were once just like anyone else
Then you grew and became like the devil himself
Pray to god I can think of a nice thing to say
But I don’t think I can so f____ you anyway!
|
|
|
1
comment
|
|
the perfect road
|
Posted:Sep 2, 2008 3:16 pm
Last Updated:Sep 11, 2008 6:36 am 11594 Views
|
I am not a soft country road,
I am a long hard highway,
I’m not your true love,
But your amusement of the day,
I am not your fellow traveller,
I am the road you pound,
I am not your blue-sky heaven,
I am the darkening clouds,
I am not the gentle grass,
I am the tall dead wheat,
See you give me false compliments,
And love incomplete,
I am not the gorgeous scenery,
I am the barren ground,
You tear me like tires tear grass,
Leaving wasteland all around,
You say I’m a roadside flower,
Wild and perfect, with not a rip,
But I’m just another pebble,
You run over along your trip,
I am not the sun that warms you back,
I am the rain that hits your hood,
You say I am your perfect light,
But you misunderstood,
I know I’m not your gentle trip,
For you never mean what you say,
So just stop calling me the perfect road,
And watch me drive away.
|
|
|
3
Comments
|
|
N
|
Posted:Sep 1, 2008 4:58 am
Last Updated:Sep 13, 2008 2:34 pm 10411 Views
|
I have a mercurial temper I know it. I can flare up over mundane things like if someone use my personal pen and shrug my shoulder about crucial incident like losing 2,000 euro in a public restroom between Manila and Bicol. But I never seriously harm someone in my life. Except on one occasion, and it was self-defence.
When N. came to Belgium, I was the first Filipina she met, and it was (not) a coincidence. Her fiancé was not only a friend of my ex, he’s the brother also of my ex long time girlfriend during his teenage and early adult period. Plus we’re living almost in the same area.
N. is older than me, a civil engineer and a vice ‒mayor somewhere in Negros and a direct Chinese descendant, her family name and looks says it all. But it doesn’t give her an excuse to look down on her fellow Filipinas whom according to her are all wh*res. After all, most of them like me, was married in our country before they even set foot in Europe, unlike a decent girl like her who came here to live with a factory worker whom she had never meet before in a desolate caravan in the middle of nowhere. She said he is just a stepping stone. I asked her: to where?
N. civil engineer as she is picks strawberries for years to earn some money to help her husband financially. You see, here in Belgium it doesn’t matter who you are where you came from, they are not honouring any diploma because of the language. You go to school first to learn it, then after five years you can apply for nationality, if you pass the interview you will be granted a citizenship, but not before. And I think it frustrates her that her dreams and goal whatever they are for coming to Europe didn’t come true and it looks as if it will never happened, so I guess she’s dumping it on us.
We had several arguments already about these things. She said she will not socialize with common wh*res. I said to her then go find your sort, coz at least this common wh*res made a giant leap when it comes to improving their lives, unlike her who has to take several steps back on the social ladder. And if I’m in her shoes, I would stay in the Phil. Then I stop speaking to her and ignored her for a year. If I saw her I did as if there is no one there, even we’re in the same party or sitting next to each other. And she cannot stand it. You see, she wants that because of her education and upbringing, every Filipina has to acknowledge her superiority and therefore must bow. But not this one. For me, everybody is innocent until proven guilty. Meaning I don’t care who and what you are, if you’re good to me, in my eyes you are a decent person and must treat accordingly. I do not prejudice. She said sorry afterwards and kneels on my front. I just looked at her.
She must have regretted the gesture because she changed so much beyond recognition the next few times we encountered each other again. She became so hostile and war freak, as usual I tried to ignore her; till that one occasion before the fatal episode.
We were in the house of a common friend and it goes like this.
When I came, she just stepping out of her car, (by that time I heard already strange stories about her putting a knife against the throat of somebody just because her balikbayan box arrived later than expected) So, I did what I always do ignore her.
Inside I was reading a local newspaper when she said:
“Cherrilyn, what have you been saying to Melba?” I look up where she’s standing like a female Zeus and said:
“Which one? I said a lot to her.” And continue reading. She grabbed the newspaper away and threw it on the floor, so I said calmly to her:
“And you called yourself educated?” she went berserk, words tumbling out from her mouth. Conversation went like this.
“You’re nothing but a low-class ”
“Oh, you’re jealous? Try it sometimes maybe you will not be this uptight. Who knows you may even like it,” I said winking at her.
“I don’t have so many boyfriends like you. I have only one man.”
“It’s not my fault that there is only one person who is interested in you.”
“I know that you had pregnancy test in the Phil.”
“For someone who cannot even afford a ticket to go back there, you surprisingly know a lot what I’ve been doing. I don’t know I’m that important to you.”
“I will call your husband! I will see to it that he will divorce you! Etc. etc.”
“Do you know his phone number? Wait, I will give it to you. And if you can make him divorce me, I will forever be grateful to you I will lie at your feet and kiss your toes. Deal?”
Then she starts pointing at me that I get so irritated I throw her out (even I was not in my own house) I said to her: if you really are as educated as you said you are, I advise you to use it sometimes. Scene closed till the following day.
When I came in the canteen, she was already there. Her opening sentence is:
“Go, away! Can’t you see I’m eating?”
“Since when did you buy this place?” I said sitting down. She stood up grabbed a fork and pressed against the side of my neck. I asked:
“Are you going To stand there whole afternoon? Get it over with.”
And I tilted my head to the opposite side to expose my neck even more to give her easy access. What she did was swept the food off the table, grabs a glass and threw the thing at me. And I thought: “You f*ck…” I picked up a mug and slapped her as hard as I could. I saw that the side of her face was already bleeding. So, I said:
“N. look, it’s enough. Look at you. Just stop this nonsense.”
But she was a woman possessed. She slapped me! I was quick but not quick enough. The tip of one of her fingers grazed my cheek and the nail must have scratched the side of my face for when I put my hand on the area, it came away with blood. And she keeps coming, and coming towards me. Note that this woman is a lot taller than me; I have a long hair which was unbound, I cannot let her get near me. So I said once more:
“N. back off. Back off or I will seriously harm you.”
The f*ck didn’t listen. She tried to kick me instead. One thing I could say is: N. fights like a woman. She tried to scratch and go for my hair. I kept backing off till I can’t go further no more. I lean against the wall where a big seascape painting was hanging above my head, and the mad woman didn’t want to stop. I remember holding both of her hands and pinning them on her sides, but she kicked me on the side of my leg with her pointed boots; so, I gave her a tick. Just a tick. But I saw her eyebrow splits and blood oozed down the side of her face, and still she keeps coming. What can I do? I gave her another playful punch which for me barely touches her lips, but I saw 3 teeth flying in the air in slow-motioned like in a film. And I was looking at it for seems to me an eternity. I was in shocked.
Someone came up, and what happened after was blurred. I know I went home, lay in bed for days shivering. I can’t believe I harm a human being. My ex told me that her husband called and threatening to sue but I wonder what happened because the threat never materialize, never paid for any damage either. Two days after, my ex and I went shopping and we saw N. at the wine section but she didn’t saw us. My ex said:
“God Cherrilyn, What did you do to that woman?”
I might say she looks quite pathetic with stitches and bandages all over her face. I felt worse than ever. And I didn’t get only a trauma from the incident; I was scared for years (even now) also to encounter her again. Because I know she will pull the same stunt once more, that’s her character. And I am very sure that if it happened, I will not only beat her up; I will surely k*ll her.
|
|
|
4
Comments
|
|
the mess i call my mind
|
Posted:Aug 28, 2008 9:29 pm
Last Updated:Sep 7, 2008 12:58 pm 7803 Views
|
I’ve learned to be paranoid
To feel utterly alone
It’s not that hard
When you aren’t there
I’ve come to see that love is painful
In any context
Even if the one you love, loves you back
There is always something inside
Scared of making the wrong decision
Even though it will never be regretted
I’m at the end of this rope
And so ready to be done
But I never will be
I’ll be refining my personality
And changing myself
For someone who will not ever know the real me
Will I ever open up?
Walking arrogant to cover up insecurities
Sitting up just to be ignored
Searching for love
That will never be found
Like a flower born wilted
Could/would someone save me
from the person I have let myself become?
From the friends I have let slip away
From the memories that have taken over
From the mess I call my mind.
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
age doesn't matter
|
Posted:Aug 28, 2008 9:22 pm
Last Updated:Sep 16, 2008 8:07 am 6646 Views
|
Dieting is easier when you don’t have an appetite.
Certain times of the year have just got cheaper. Yay for extra cash!
Since on average you fall in love every 9 years, you’ll only be 40 when it happens again.
You can do a huge spring-cleaning regardless of the season since half your stuff is now in the “memorabilia” category.
You get to experience what its like to be a depressed, tormented artist… just without the motivation or talent.
Crying at movies no longer makes you feel stupid, since it’s the only place where its okay to do it in public.
You finally get to learn how to delete a number in your cell phone address book.
The fact that your mobile phone now has 148 empty slots, gives you a new urgency in reconnecting with lost friends.
You get to experience a deep warm connection when the guy at Starbucks/KFC/Local Curry House says "Have a nice day!" and smiles.
You can do empirical studies on whether alcohol is actually a depressant.
You find yourself answering the question “How are you today?” honestly and at great length.
You get to finally reconnect with your pet.
You begin to wonder whether pets think in sentences and whether the words” i love you “ ever crossed their minds.
You get to look forward to dates where you catch someone else up on how many siblings you have as well as all the other mundane facts of your life.
You get to hone your marketing skills by attempting to sell “beauty on the inside” in noisy bars.
If you want to walk about all day at home in your undies, then by george it is your god given manly right to do so.
You can try to convince your parents that they owe you money considering how much they saved since you aren’t going to have another wedding.
Scrabble is easier to win when you play by yourself. You can cheat with words and make em up.
You get to rely on that killer instinct you used to have when choosing an outfit for a night out.
Watching your friends have temper tantrums no longer has the same ominous implications and returns to just being plain funny.
etc. etc. etc.
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
