Serena
I couldn't tell my mom. I tried, and I just couldn't. What's worse, she didn't try to make me.
**************************************************
Later, I had cried out every tear I had, but it wasn't enough.
Just as I'd parked my car outside the complex where I now lived, a spark of hope flared inside me.
No one ever would know.
I sprinted up the stairs, I just couldn't handle the idleness of taking the elevator. I needed to run.
I burst through the door and immediately headed for the hall closet.
I pulled out a large suitcase and stuffed as many of my clothes as I could in it.
**************************************************
Finally, I was packed. But I still wasn't done. There was one last thing I needed to do.
I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a pencil and pulled a pad of lila paper out from under the phone.
I knew who would come looking for me first.
Shaun, I wrote.
I'm leaving. Please, please, don't tell anyone why. Pretend you don't know. Act like I never existed.
Don't come looking for me. I want you to finish college, and ilipat on. You deserve happiness, which I can't ever give you, no matter how much I wish I could. And don't blame yourself. It's my fault. It's entirely my fault.
I still pag-ibig you, and I always will.
Serena.
A small tear fell onto the page. I turned my head, and ripped the page from the pad.
I pinned it to the door of my bedroom.
I glanced back over my shoulder one last time, as I closed the door of my apartment, and closed the door on everyone I'd ever known and loved.
I couldn't tell my mom. I tried, and I just couldn't. What's worse, she didn't try to make me.
**************************************************
Later, I had cried out every tear I had, but it wasn't enough.
Just as I'd parked my car outside the complex where I now lived, a spark of hope flared inside me.
No one ever would know.
I sprinted up the stairs, I just couldn't handle the idleness of taking the elevator. I needed to run.
I burst through the door and immediately headed for the hall closet.
I pulled out a large suitcase and stuffed as many of my clothes as I could in it.
**************************************************
Finally, I was packed. But I still wasn't done. There was one last thing I needed to do.
I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a pencil and pulled a pad of lila paper out from under the phone.
I knew who would come looking for me first.
Shaun, I wrote.
I'm leaving. Please, please, don't tell anyone why. Pretend you don't know. Act like I never existed.
Don't come looking for me. I want you to finish college, and ilipat on. You deserve happiness, which I can't ever give you, no matter how much I wish I could. And don't blame yourself. It's my fault. It's entirely my fault.
I still pag-ibig you, and I always will.
Serena.
A small tear fell onto the page. I turned my head, and ripped the page from the pad.
I pinned it to the door of my bedroom.
I glanced back over my shoulder one last time, as I closed the door of my apartment, and closed the door on everyone I'd ever known and loved.
Diem Mirabilis
Morning:
for Morning is made
of mysteries and uncertainties
the hopes of beginnings
the risks of unknowns
the potential for greatness
or failure
Midday:
for Midday is the height
of the glory of the sun
the climax of twenty-four hours
the brightness that blinds and clarifies
the sagot once hidden
now unveiled
Sunset:
for Sunset arrives
with the final shift of the sky
the afterglow of the triumph
the sweetness of the last drop
the closing chapter of a story
and the beginning...
of a new one.
as if you gave me a choice
everything about you i loved
all other feelings aside i shoved
on your every word i hung
and even among
a crowd, only you i see
nowhere else i would rather be
these feelings for you, that are kept inside
i can no longer hide
everything about you i admire
you are all i desire
so kind, so sweet, so passionate
everytime our eyes met
my puso would race
while looking at your smiling face
full of buety, life, and joy
with my emotions you play like a toy
like a wild beast, my emotions cannot be tame
and i don't even know your name
Courtesy of the cartoonist, Clangnuts
All authors want to be original. If someone even mentions that a writer's work reminds them of someone else's, the writer tenses up. "No, no, no, I'm nothing like him," he says swiftly. "I've never even read him."
"Yeah, but it's kinda like him," the reader persists, believing she is giving a compliment rather than an insult. "He's incredible, you should read him!"
The thing is-- it should be a compliment when a reader compares your work to...
