PerAdventure

The Lazy Boy and the Mocking Milk and Tissue

The day before yesterday was the laziest day of my life… so far. I woke up and, as usual, stayed on bed for a considerable amount of time… pondering, fantasizing. Then when I felt the need to get up, open my eyes wide (so I would be fully awake), I slowly sat on my bed. I was not sleepy anymore—as if it were a surprise!

The first thing I had to do was eat. You see, I am afraid of starving. I am afraid of acquiring ulcer or what. So I went to the kitchen, found something to eat and decided that it’s time I drank some freeeesh milk. I opened the fridge, one of my hands holding a bowl of rice and viand, and searched for this white plastic bottle. Ah, there it is! Behind a big cake keeper. I thought for a while, scrutinizing the container. I turned my attention to the counter just a meter away from me. I, again, thought.

Thud! goes the refrigerator door. Duuh! I could drink milk tomorrow.

A while later, (in my room) I just found myself staring again… at some facial tissue under my ‘Interview with the Vampire’ pocket book and my Logitech Revue controller. I might have been picking my nose, for me to be looking for a napkin. I did not recall that pocket books weighed like tons, and that the controller grew thorns, for I never moved and tried to get the tissue. Away, I just went. I felt like the fox in one of Aesop’s fables.

What the perdition happened to me?

I just dreamt of smooching a Korean star, whom I do not know, yesterday.

“It was wet.” -Harry Potter

Brennan

One time, I saw this article in Yahoo! about this young boy named Brennan. He has cancer. It is hard, for me, to imagine how it is for his family. I can’t imagine how they can cope up seeing the hardship of a family member.

But thank God! they have strong faith. And it seems like they are always in optimism. I am glad looking at them. So I made this picture in the purpose of minimizing the burden (if there is any) of the loving family. Glory be to God.

I am so hurt because of the criticisms I have received about my stories. I know, they are all a purple prose. I really did try to use simple words! I’ve got to edit them now!

The boy in tight clothing…

This drawing was actually inspired by me. I was watching myself in the mirror one time, naked. And then when I tried to draw using GIMP, my reflection flashed in my mind. Plus, I have always loved drawing bodies.

Bloody

I was going to draw a woman with pyrokinesis, but I chose to do this instead. It’s much easier, and appealing for me.

The Melting

I pulled the curtains aside and in came a blast of light. The room became all bright, and the letters on the book I’m holding clearer. Ah, better. I looked, for a moment, on the image behind the window. Most trees are bare, the road is quiet, and the soil is slowly showing up, but a great part of the image is white. It is lovely, the snow. It still is, until a few months of it, a few months of shoveling in the back deck, a few months of very low temperature. What’s lovelier is the thought of having no more snow.

I smirked at the thought. I smirked at the sight of the melting snow.

“Dong, don’t you want to eat that cake anymore? I’m going to throw it away now!” Mother loudly asked.

“No.” That cake, I could say, was the ‘longest-living’ cake mother baked. I am usually the one who finishes her cakes. They’re just so delicious. But this one was not quite tasty. I mean, it had the taste of those low-kind cupcakes sold in the bakery back in my old country, the taste you would not try getting again (not because it’s really bad, but because it’s just not savory). This cake, covered in yellow super-sweet pudding, had been staying for two or three weeks in the garage. (We have this freezer in the garage, but we put the cake on it, not in it. The cold weather outside cooled the cake.) Come to think of it, the winter season has some benefit at all.

But I’ve had enough of it! For now…

The Seeker and the Annoying Relative

I am going to share to you an entry in my really private journal. Here it is:

July 14, 2010

I was watching my favorite TV show in Studio 23, Legend of the Seeker. I was first to use the TV so I had complete control over it; I can turn to any channel I want. A misfortune to my other housemates, they cannot watch the Filipinos’ all-time favorite: Agua Bendita, which had the same time slot with LOTS. There I was, sitting alone in the living room, reading ‘Interview with the Vampire’, scanning the dictionary when I happened to stumble upon an unfamiliar word. Of course, I was watching the idiot box, too.

Jamilla (one of the relatives I told you about) came in the room and sat on the sofa across the seat I was on. At first, she was kind of fascinated by the show I was watching. Or maybe I just thought so for she had the sort of face that gleamed when it met a new experience, wonderful experience. I didn’t look at her actually, because I thought that was rude. Or maybe I thought it was awful to. I concentrated on the show, Kahlan now convincing Kieran (who was in Richard’s body) to free the man she loved. Oh, I was erroneous. It was still the time when Richard, Kahlan and Zed were opening a casket which contained Kieran’s remains.

At the part when Zed cast a spell on the skeleton (Kieran’s— so they thought they would liberate his bound spirit), there was this scene then when the wooden casket would shake full-force. Jamilla exclaimed with a painfully irritating remark, “Hala! Niuyog…” (Golly! It shook…) I can’t remember the exact words she said, but what I only have knowledge about was that I was clutching the arms of my seat, trying to ease my boiling blood. I focused my attention on the TV although I could see (that moment) my mind was full of disturbing thoughts. As the show progressed, an incident same with what I mentioned earlier—her commenting on obvious things—happened again, yet this time I absolutely was agitated.

It was a moan, I know, yet she spoke the question, “Di ba balik na man na, kuya?” (Isn’t that a repeat?) in a seemingly nice way.

“Dili uy,” (No, it’s not.) I responded.

“Dili diay na katong naay bata…?” (Isn’t that the one with a child…?)

What the hell is she talking about? I cannot recall her words anymore due to the aching of my head (not literally). There she was again, blabbering as though she knew everything. That is one thing I never liked. She sounded as if she were delivering a sermon about a thing I already knew a long time ago. My ears are starting to numb themselves because of the endless reverberations of her agonizing remarks… or voice, might be. No, it’s not her voice (for it doesn’t really break my sense of hearing when it conveys a message of awe and goodness and bearability—is that word correct?) So it was merely the remarks.

Sigh. I am kind of embarrassed by this writing… And my use of words.