A Geisha In A Past Life

I've been keeping these notebooks for more than 20 years. They contain my pre-desktop comp/laptop stories. I used to bring a spiral notebook everyday so I can write wherever I go. Most of the time, the biggest and greatest ideas catch us off guard and come to us during the least expected moments. They used to be 50 +, but they're down to 26. I've thrown the others due to personal reasons. I still read them sometimes and the stories I've written still affect me big time. :) The stories inside these notebooks matter a lot to me, but what matter most are the memories and inspiration attached to these stories. Sometimes, when I read them, I am still astonished that I managed to write them. And then I remember what pushed me to do so and it won't come as a surprise anymore. Indeed,  memories and feelings  matter so much to a writer.

Nang mahulog ako sa’yo, kumuha agad ako ng ballpen at papel. Ganun ako kapag inspirado. Magsusulat. Bubuo ng isang magandang istorya dahil lamang sa isang pangyayari sa buhay ko. Sinimulan ko ang istorya natin nang nagsimula ako maging tanga. Nag-ubos ako ng oras. Ng papel. Ng utak. Para lang maganda ang kalabasan ng istorya nating dalawa. Siyempre naman, ikaw yata ang una kong pag-ibig. Gusto ko, perpekto ang lahat.  Unang beses ko makaramdam nang mabilis na pagtibok ng puso na walang kinalaman sa pag-inom ko ng kape.  Unang beses ko makaramdam ng pagsakit sa sikmura na walang kinalaman sa paglalabas ng ‘sama ng loob’ sa banyo. Iba ang naramdaman ko sa’yo. Sa unang pagkakataon, nasabi ko sa sarili ko na “Sa wakas, nagmahal din ako.” Pero alam mo, nararamdaman ko naman na hindi talaga puwede maging tayo. Kung ang love story ko para sa akin at sayo ay isinulat ko para gawing pelikula, malamang hindi papatok. Lalangawin sa sinehan. Sayang ang gagastusi...

Note: Yes, it's a catharsis. So if you have little patience for cathartic attacks, then don't read. 10- The Hitlers of my life My number one excuse, even though I think it isn’t really the number one cause. But yeah, it contributed a lot. How can I meet guys when I was expected not to have a boyfriend until I finished my college years? How can I meet guys when my curfew is 6 pm (was adjusted when I had a 7 pm class)? How can guys be attracted to me when every time they even try to bat an eyelash at me, my mom’s throwing them spear eyes? How can guys have the guts to court me (if they really want of course) when every time I talk about a guy in front of my parents during my peak years (college years), my dad always says, “Pang-sampu yan.” (Pang-sampu sa bibitayin niya and it keeps on adding and adding and adding.) Right now, I think it’s “Pang-labimpito” na. Dads. Moms. 9- When guys look into my eyes, they see my...

Isang oras. Ang sabi mo, isang oras lang ako maghihintay sa'yo. Manggagaling ka pa kamo sa malayo. Traffic. Wala kang masakyan. Samu't saring mga dahilan, sige tinatanggap ko. Basta isang oras. Isang oras lang. Uupo lang ako, magmamasid, sisipol, kakanta. Kahit ano'ng pampalipas oras gagawin ko. Matagal tagal rin ako'ng maghihintay. Langgamin man ako. Papakin man ako ng lamok. Sige, iindahin ko. Basta maghihintay ako ng isang oras. Isang oras ha? Dalampu't walong beses na ko tumitingin sa relos ko. Tila kay bagal ng pagtakbo ng oras. Sa bawat paggalaw ng mahabang kamay ng orasan, naririnig ko. Dahil kada segundong lumilipas, bumibilis ang paghinga ko. Papalapit ng papalapit ang pagkikita natin. At kahit nauumay na ko panuorin ang magkasintahan sa gilid ko na kanina pa nagpapalitan ng laway, sige kakayanin ko. Basta maghihintay ako ng isang oras. Isang oras... daw. Nagdududa na ko. Parang napakabagal talaga ng pagp...

You're the worst dream that ever grazed my psyche. Cause for the first time in my entire lives and loves; I thought you were real. That I will be able to paint you and turn you into reality. But no. I wasted my canvas, my paints, my time, my efforts, and my attention. You're just another one of those dreams that fade into nothingness after giving me a very short time to be happy. Your silence was the worst way of ending it with me. It was the deadliest weapon for emotional blackmail. Goodbye may be stronger than I love you, but saying goodbye (specially abrupt goodbye) without saying I love you is the coward's way out. Goes to show what you are-- you've chosen that path. You are Ares personified-- murderous and bloodstained (mythnet)--yes you are; handsomest Greek God-- yes you are; a coward; INDEED you are. Damn you for making me feel this way. Damn me for letting you make me feel this way.

Have you ever experienced trusting someone then finding out your own blood you suddenly saw on your body came from the stabs he has driven right at your back during the time you do not know when? I did. Traitor. Murderer. Killer. Been a victim for several times now. Think it had made me immortal. Immortal yet not invincible. Doomed. Died. Pained. Dumbstruck martyr in her own pool of blood. Rest in peace.