GASTRONOMY by Joy: Designer Blooms Cafe: First Fresh Flower Shop Cafe...

GASTRONOMY by Joy: Designer Blooms Cafe: First Fresh Flower Shop Cafe...: It may be a cliche to rede - take time to smell the roses.   This idiom means to take some time to slack of and enjoy the surrounding.   ...

I Love You (A Short Semi-Horror Story)

There were once lived a girl named I love you. She was once cherished and adored like a Chinese piece of art by her parents, brothers, girl friends, mates, neighbors and strangers she passed by the streets. She had an easy smile that pulled people into her. They were longing and seeking and sipping comfort in her vibrance. 

                                                                        

The next day, this was when the madness started: the people seeking comfort in her woke up feeling happy with a persistent beating in their hearts that says, "I want to see more of her. I want her to be part of my body; to own and taste every part of her is a longing I need to have. I want her smile on my face..." on and on it beat with absurd chaos. At random, a crowd started piling up outside her house. Banging the whole goddamn house in a riot and screaming "I love you, I love you! I love you. I love you...." repeatedly.

                                               

The whole family presented i love you to the crowd with the innocent and not-so vibrant look on her face. And a bit taller. And not a bit too young; with long limbs. Everyone got dismayed and started pulling back, crying. They can't accept that she had grown up.

From then on, people began to treat her with indifference. She was becoming an awkward human being to the society. She was lost, to god knows where. At school, she had few friends. And these few friends get to decide when to talk to her. Which left her distraught.

Life had meaning to her again the day she met the man she fell in love with. And that was also the day she realized what her name meant to her and to everyone around her; why everybody seemed to like her in the beginning and hate her in the end.

Heartbroken was his name. A cool guy with mysterious appeal. She followed him around and outside school until they've become friends, buddies.

The day when heartbroken said to her, "sorry, i love you..." everything shattered and what is left was a name without a soul; short semi-horror story with I Love You as its title.

He who thought...

He finds solitude, peace, and safety in a place where the Son, the Father, and the Holy Spirit live. Where it holds many capitals. Where a story is a Story. In this place, he experienced obedience by way of kneeling; his hands reconcile themselves by touching each other in an act which an outsider would think as very bizarre like. He learns to talk without opening his mouth. This is the only place where he let his defenses down, and let himself say "peace be with you" to people he merely know. Something on him cracked, it's a smile coming from his lips. "I've finally found a place where I could take out my piss and shit whenever I want to" he thinks. So on he goes shitting and pissing out whenever he wants to. Until one day, after getting so used to the routine, he allows himself to be confused and works his mind to wonder: "I could only shit so much shit, and piss so much one at a time, I could barely fill the demands of this place. And I don't even know who I'm bursting my shit and piss to? This a grand place. A palace. A fixed palace. I'm not even sure where my shit and piss go. Everything in this place is gold, bright yellow, scarlet blue, blinding white, melancholy violet, bruised red, and darkness combined. Everything I see is staring back at me deadpan. Only me and the candles, I mean Candles, we are two in this place living and shitting and pissing. This is where peace and confusion meet and gather and laugh and sing and smile and merry and be... faithful"

Made-up Lovestory

I've been loving you for so long. From a distance, I whisper to the wind what my heart is shouting. It's beating "I love you, I love you, I love you" just like your favorite song playing in a repeat mode. We are friends, we laugh together, joke and fool around. There are awkward moments because society says you're a man and I'm a woman. Meant to be together, not to be keep apart. There's one moment where I see a glimpse of hope of "us", "we", being one together, sharing the same noun with a single verb in a sentence, in a paragraph, in a story, creating a life, breathing the same air. During a class discussion, I always raise my hands to feign intelligence. I have to endure the embarrassment and humiliation when a teacher calls me for recitation. I am a stammering freak. I hate her, she should know that I am feigning. Maybe I could forgive her if one day she'll ask me"what is love?". I'll point you without much hesitation. Very cheeky perhaps but that's what you are to me. In Geometry, we sit apart, you sitting in front of the row, while I'm contented sitting at the back, staring and glowing at the mere sight of your back, the shape of your ears, your tousled hair, that tiny mole on your nape that's mocking me. Mindless to the teacher whose asking the class to compute the speed of car B from car C and A and all those shit that makes the world a complicated math world. You barely notice me because you are happy. I hold my breath as I see you look on your right. Sitting beside you is the woman you love. You look so perfect together, from the back of my mind, an evil thought says "ruin that perfection". But, I just watch silently from behind, murmuring from within that it's alright, I'm not hurting. This thing go on as we enter to other school ground called college, we remain friends. I say, I am dying. I could not hold on to you any longer. Waiting is a disease burning deep within me.

Once in a yellow piece of paper

It was January 2012, when-- during her long dragging Spanish class, she decided to be brave and impulsive. This inspiration came from a close friend in college. She tore a piece of paper, and started scribbling down. As any normal letter, she started with "Dear", she paused, held the pen in a hesitating manner, stared out in a blank wall, took a deep breath and one by one, as though learning the alphabet for the first time, she wrote his name. And her pen broke a sigh of relief. Then came a complete silence, thinking, seeming, hoping-- she continued on. At random, with uncontrollable urge, she used her hands to pour out words and emotion her eyes and mouth cannot implore: "i love you to pieces and distractions..""please love me, i could wait forever if..""someday you'll see..""why? Why not me..?""if you are happy..""I hope all the happiness for you both..""forever ends here, I guess..""I'm letting you go... you were not mine in the first place""I am both happy and sad..""This is not easy as I thought it would be..." on and on she went until her hands'd gone so angry red she stopped. 

Another month dragged on. She waits. But deep inside her she already know. She waits. She cries every night. She waits. The long letter she wrote fades into silence. She waits. It fades. The pain. She cries. The long letter she wrote whispers to her every night: "why haven't you give me to him yet?" She waits. Teardrops can be seen in a yellow piece of paper where she wrote her love letter...

Doodle Writing

There's an animal farm growing in my head. It's keeping me awake at night. I hear them talk about politics, local and international showbiz, big events, north korea, scarborough schoal, jessica sanchez, how hot it is in the philippines, when's the premiere of the season three of the walking dead, how lousy the ending of city hunter was, why housemates of the latest season of pbb don't look like 14-15 years, and the latest world wide trending topics on twitter. They're growing fast! They're whirling in my head, the wild ones are biting, clawing, creeping, leaping, scathing. I heard one big crocodile shouts, "not enough exposure for us these days, huh?" My mind's about to burst when I feel that someone choke and strangled the crocodile back to the river deep within my brain. From the hissed, my guess it was the menacing snake. "Let's start a big riot!" screams the lizards in unison. That was then that the ever-peacemaker-chicken starts to cry his "taktakputak!" repeatedly. And it was another day again. Animal farm in my head can do nothing about it, as of now. X

The word metaphor is a metaphor

Hello! How have you been? T'has been days of utter silence. Try as I may, I couldn't work out a proper nonsense to talk about. It's as if my tongue's been pulled backward, and what do I get? A useless scrabble of alphabet. I am scribbling, trying to be vague as I can because this is the only way you understand and not understand me. Not too literal and less figuratives. There's no mirror here, have I ever told you that? But that doesn't make my world less vain, less doubtful, less conscious, less crazy, less insatiable. In fact it just made everything sinner, and more human. I am talking about the world! Can you just imagine? I am walking, I passed a couple of people, feeling and seizing, I stare at them straight to the eye just to see myself through their eyes, using them as a mirror to see who I am. I need to know who I am, who I was and who will I be through that couple I passed. They make the whole world. It is important. I am important, and I need to understand. Why I am making this so much effort? I can feel you snoring and breathing all the way here. It is useless talking to you. You are mad. All of you are nameless mad people. Your face's angled to the south, but your feet's turning and twisting completely north left while your finger's pointing east. What is your world? Can't you make up your mind. You do have it when you left, don't you? With mad sincerity, I'll end this and sign--the most sane person in the world of insanity.

Pompous

I. I am. I was. I have. I had. I do. I did. I will. I shall. I become. I feel. I saw. I hear. I touch. I thought. I say. I swallow. I love. I hate. I cry. This. These. That. Is me. Never you. Never he. Never she. Never them. Never you and me. Just simply. Mine. I belong. I own. I collect. When. What. Where. How. I shit. I puke. I fuck. I piss. I... Am... Self... Important...

HBD :D

Ito ay para sa aking munting kaibigan na si Charmaine Lim Gabriel na nagdiwang ng kanyang kaarawan kahapon. Walong taon na rin kaming magkaibigan, sa nakalipas na mga taon, medyo bilang ko kung ilang beses lang kaming nagkita, nagkausap at nagbonding. Alam ko naman kasing di talaga sya maaasahan sa mga ganung bagay hahaha ayaw nya kasi ng shit, pero di yun dahilan para mawala ang ang nabuo naming samahan. May minsan na aksidenteng kaming nagkakasabay sa bus, at dun namin nagagawa ang tinatawag na "catch-up". Kapag naubusan nang mapagusapan,pagtsitsimisan namin yung mga kaibigan rin namin nung highschool. 

Isang napakasipag na nilalang sa pagaaral, kahit anung pagyaya ng kanyang mga kaibigan, 'di sya papatinag. Minsan nga nakakatampo na rin, pero sa pagdaan ng mga taon nasanay na rin kami :)))) mahal nga naman ang tuition fee sa Letran.

Hindi ako makahanap ng picture na kaming dalawa lang :))) kaya yan na lang. sabi ng iba masungit at suplada daw sya, totoo naman talaga hahaha di ko nga alam bakit naging magkaibigan kami nito eh. Ang alam ko lang parehas kaming maganda na wala pa ring boyfriend hanggang ngayon :)))

I love you Cham! Mwah mwah tsup tsup! Gamitin mo yung binigay ko ah? Alam ko sisikat ka! hahaha suportado kita jan :)))

ANG WAITING SHED

Ayan.Ako na lang ang taong gising. Gagawa na naman ako ng napakawalang kwentang pagnanakaw. Magpupuyat na naman ako para sa isang walang napakawalang silbeng bagay. Kapag nakakakita kasi ako ng waiting shed, di na maalis sa isip ko. Katulad kanina meron na naman. Kailan ko nga ba nadiskubre ang waiting shed? Nung bata yata ako nandyan na yan, gamit yan ng nanay ko, tatay ko at lahat ng uri ng tao. Ang tingin ko sa waiting shed pag sa malayo parang ang laki! Napawow pa nga ako nun! Di ba ganun naman talaga tayo kapag bata? Tingin natin sa isang bagay ang laki laki. Inisip ko rin nun kung ano ang importansya ng waiting shed sa isang tao, at hanggang ngayon patuloy ko pa rin tong iniisip. Nagulat kasi ako nung paglaki ko, parang naging uso pa lalo ang waiting shed! Sabi ko dapat wala na to sa panahon namin kasi makakahanap na ng ibang trip ang mga tao. Hindi pala! Mas nagulat pa ko nung lumaki pa lalo to! Naging bongga na ang mga waiting shed! Kakaiba na! May mga advertisement na iba't iba ang mga kulay ang nakasuot sa mga to! Sabi ko sa sarili ko ang hanep ng bonggang bongga! At mas nagulat pa ko lalo nung nakita ko isang araw sa isang kanto na puro lalaki ang nakisuob sa waiting shed na pagkalaki laki at balot ng iba't ibang klase ng palamuti! Kakaiba talaga. At nung minsan pa, di ko rin naiwasang pansinin yung katabi ko sa bus na lalaki na di mapakali at panay ang tingin sa kung saan. Dahil chismosa ako, sinundan ko yung tingin nya.. At natulala ako sa nakita ko! Waiting shed sa loob ng bus! Panalo db? Di ka makapaniwala nuh? Ako rin nung una...