The Song She Heard

Correction from my last post: I’m going to try to post something whenever I can. :) School just started again, so I shall continue to make time for the blog. No long, hibernation-neglect this time, but daily updates shouldn’t be expected. Although I will try. :D

So here’s the new one. A short story for now. It’s a dark-ish one, but I hope you like it. Read on. :)

 

 

It had happened again.

 

The tiny pebbles thrown by jeering children who felt the need to make their parents’ revulsion their own.

The whispers and murmurs among shopkeepers and traders and wives who never even bothered to hide their discomfort around her.

The laughter. The mocking. The stares. The disgust.Of course it had happened again. It happened everyday. It was routine. It was life. Her life.

And as usual, it was sheer torment.

She had only been staring at the children. Staring at their gleeful, excited expressions as they played and ran around the neighborhood and danced on the grass. Staring at their innocence.

She was fascinated. The happiness in their expressions seemed like something she’d never experienced before. It was a mystery.

Drawn in by their smiles, she had approached them. Slowly. Carefully.

And when she saw that they had taken notice of her,  her fascination had quickly turned into fright as she’d watched their own faces turn from joy to horror to menace and scorn.

Oh, how they’d recovered from their initial fear and had taken on expressions of glee as they started pointing and yelling and picking up stones.

Oh, how fast their mothers had come to their aid with wide eyes and sneers, whispering loudly among themselves and not bothering to tame their words.

“What does she plan to do with the children? Never know…”
“…Crazy, it’s obvious to anyone who…”
“Mama, why’s she like that?”
“Shh! She’ll come after you at night and…”
“Monster.“

 

She’d fled.

She didn’t understand why.

All she knew was that she felt a dull throbbing in her chest that hurt her so much more than the stones did.

All she’d wanted to do was play. To ask them how they could be so free. Why they didn’t seem to have chains on their wrists and ankles. How they could ignore the pain.

All she’d wanted was to have what she saw in the children. Happiness. But she’d only left feeling a hundred times more sad than before.

And she’d gone to seek refuge in there. As usual, it pulled her. Her special place. The only place in the world where she could shut out every other sound she heard that made her feel life was worthless.

Once again, she was running to the old bell tower.

The door opened at the touch of her hands with a loud wooden creak, and she sprinted up the staircase. She knew all its twists and turns, was familiar with every single crack on its surface– and yet every time she climbed it, it always felt like the first.

Even as she continued on upwards, she was already starting to feel the tower’s effect on her. Inside, the turmoil was vanishing with every step. Inside, her chaos was being replaced by a child-like anticipation of what was waiting for her upstairs.

And then there she was. At the top of the tower, in a small room just below the bells.She was in her safe place, her haven.

She was home.

As she walked into the room, the bells mysteriously started sounding in their cacophony, as they always did whenever she walked in.

For her. Only for her.

Comforted by the noisy clanging of the bells, she closed her eyes and grabbed a broom in the corner. The rhythm was a melody to her, and she swung the dusty stick around in circles, lifting her skirts in a pretend curtsy, and twirling around the room. Imagining.

She shut her eyes tightly and danced, enraptured by the music of the monotonous bells.

In them, she heard a song.

And when they stopped ringing, the song died. As well as something inside of her.

She went back to being herself, the she who was afraid of the jeering taunts and mocking laughter.

Exhausted, she padded towards a small bed in the corner, taking off her sandals and lying down. As she stared at the cobwebbed ceiling, she tried to imagine what the next day would have in store for her.

She thought of the next round of jeers and taunts and haunting laughter that tomorrow held. And she feared.

But then, amidst the chaos of her thoughts,  another rose up. Something that would drown the rest out in its simplicity, and yet, its power.

And so she shut her eyes and dreamed. She dreamed of the second the bells would toll again. For her.

Only for her.

On the 4th of June, 2013

No, this isn’t a poem or a short story. Yet. :)

 

This blog entry is all about today. Today, being an awesome day.

 

So… on to the enumeration of factors that make today something worth writing about:

 

1. I was able to reunite with my co- JENESYS (Japan East-Asia Network of Exchange for Students and Youths) friends from Baguio and Benguet. 

I went to Japan last May 2012 for a two week program in Japan called “JENESYS“. It was sponsored by the Japanese government and our batch had the theme “Disaster Risk Management and Prevention”, focusing on the Great East Japan Earthquake and the 3/11 Disaster. I learned so much from the whole experience. I’ll probably tell the whole story in another post. :)

 

“Fantastic Fukuoka”
Top row: Eduard Narciso, Topher Reyes, Patrick Angara, Florence Carolino, Mariz Canda Go, Fathma Minaga, Tina Adorable, Armie Gutierrez, Emil Lim, Kevin Carig, Jife Portillas, Brian Fabregas, John Paul Oira
Bottom row: Dave Alvarez, Trisha Esperanza (:D), Mark Razonable, Jenica Dizon, Cassandra Giselle Gaas, Ma’am Ging Darroca, Sir Dens Pena, Raxiey Adolfo, Justina Valeros, Angelli Estillore, Kissel Cablayda, Junesse Crisostomo

For the program, our batch of 98 students was divided into four groups. This picture is of ours, the Fukuoka group. We visited Fukuoka (of course, hence the name) and took this picture together in front of the Kyushu Museum. It was a chance to bond with youths from different universities across the Philippines, and in the end we were like one huge family. :)

 

“The Baguio-Benguet Youth Ambassadors”
Guys: Vince Navarro, Jayvee Dacumos, Kevin Bumahit, Rex Nario, Erjo Coscolluela
Girls: Trisha Esperanza, Marviguel Cayat
Missing (xD): Jasmin Tosay

This was the picture we (the Baguio-Benguet Youth Ambassadors– couldn’t think of a more original name) took together last year. I love these guys. Together, we were able to accomplish so much. Last year after we arrived back home, we started planning and conducting seminars and forums and even an exhibit, showcasing everything we learned in Japan. We were even recognized by JICE– a very pleasant surprise for us.

 

Together Again :D
Jasmin, Erjo, Rex, Vince, Trisha, Jayvee, Kevin
Missing: Marvi (Miss you! ^_^)

And then there was today. We met and talked and laughed and reminisced and spent time catching up on each other’s lives. We ate pizza and pasta and drank mango shakes, then went to an awesome Book Cafe  and had mint chocolate shakes and coffee and stuff. After not seeing each other for so many months, it was just so good to be with them again. :)

Also, because of our conversations– which ranged from the economy of the US and Japan to coffee beans to some orange dude to leftover pizza– I realized I want to continue applying for more programs. I guess learning about people and cultures is just one of my passions. ^_^

 

So we’re done with the first factor. Now on to the next:

 

2. It is the 19th wedding anniversary of two amazing people.

Said people and their daughter :D

Happy anniversary to my awesome parents! <3

 

They’ve been together through thick and thin (and me, of course– probably worse than thick and thin combined xD). Wait, I just realized that afterthought didn’t really make sense. Thick and thin combined?

Well, anyway.

They are amazing parents.

I am so blessed by them, and every single day I thank God for letting me have them as my parents. I have no idea how to ever pay them back for everything they’ve done for me.

*Pretend “You Raise Me Up” is playing in the background right now*

:D

Really, though.

 

Flashback. With hair. Ha. :D

I love these people so much, and I’m so happy they’re mine. (Evil laughter: you’re mine!) xD

 

They’re mine, and I’m theirs. <3

 

So yes.

That’s it.

 

Thank you Lord, for this wonderful day.

 

Soli Deo gloria.

Pages

Hi again, everyone :) It is now my goal to post something new everyday to make up for all the lost time. I just realized I miss writing so much. There’s just something about words that entangle me in their universe. So… here’s the new poem. I particularly love this one, and I feel really attached to it for some reason. Read on, and enjoy :)

Tear the pages off
And keep them in your heart.
Swallow up the words
So they never melt apart.
Catch them with your teeth,
And taste them on your tongue.
Breathe them in so deep
That they invade your lungs.
Feel them pierce your soul
And permeate your all;
Fill you with their tune,
And into your senses crawl.
Tear the pages off
And never let them go.
Cut them in your skin
Until their blood begins to flow.
Tear the pages off,
Don’t let them fall apart.

Tear the pages off
And keep them in your heart.

Love

Hey everyone. I’m back! The writer’s block is finally over. I haven’t been writing or posting for almost a year already so I’m pretty sure my writing has gotten kinda rusty. Please forgive the rust :D I just thought of this last night. I typed it all down first into my phone’s Notes app since I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Hope you guys like it. Enjoy. And thank you so much :)

Reaching out for love by Kjherstin

Her name was Love,
And she
Gave herself away
To everyone she could
Reach
With her strong, fragile
Arms
And her beautiful, white
Wings.

She gave herself
Away
To the old
And the young,
To the rich and
The poor.

Love loved
Like a storm:
Crashing and
Raging.
She loved
Like a whisper:
Soft,
Soothing,
Gentle.

She loved like a
Breath–
Light and
Fleeting;
A rock,
That was
Firm and
Enduring.

She loved all
That she could,
And she always
Had more left
To give.

She loved
To love.

She lived
To love.

She loved
To live
A life
Of endless
Love.

She fell
To such depths,
And rose
To such
Heights.

She sighed,
And wept,
And fought,
And cried
Tears of great
Sorrow
Each time she was
Thrown,
And pushed
Aside
By countless people,
And broken
By people who
Used her
And drained her.

But she picked herself up
Each time,
And continued
To love
Unselfishly,
And care
For others
The way
She always had–

With everything
She was.

Love loved
To love.

It was her nature,
For she was
Love.

Book Captive

Has this ever happened to you before? To be so immersed in the story inside a book that you forget your own? I love it when that happens. :]

On another note, I apologize profusely for my long period of hibernation. Just finished with finals and now enjoying a two-week long break. In other words, two whole weeks of reconciling with my beloved words. Yay. <3

Here’s the first of many this October. It’s really short, but I hope you like it. :)

____________________________

Standing. Surrounded by swarms of people: the world racing by me, headed in all directions, pushing past me and bumping into others, too immersed in the hectic rhythm of their own busy lives to pay attention to anything else. I pay no heed to them. My eyes are drawn only to the words in front of me, my mind focused on the book in my hands. Only one thing distracts me: a drop of water that has suddenly appeared on a word I just read a second ago.

I look up at the sky to see if it’s raining, automatically clutching the book to my chest to protect it from water; my thumb inside it marking the page I’m on. The sky is blue and the sun is out. I realize the drop of water was a tear, and I wipe my eyes frantically before anyone notices. Curious passersby stare at me. I don’t care. I’m just glad it’s not raining. My eyes return to the book I once again open, scanning for the word I stopped at. But before I can read again, the ride comes. I step inside and reopen the book as soon as I take a seat. Ignoring the bumps on the road and the old women whispering to each other about teenagers nowadays and bad eyesight, I read on.

The words that follow pierce me deep inside, and more tears fall from my eyes. I cry for the characters inside the story. I cry for the beauty of every word I read, for every magically constructed sentence designed to tear up a person’s soul. And as I cry, the other passengers live their lives, oblivious to the turmoil of my heart.

To Not Wake Up

If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up. <3

_______________________

She sleeps
Soundly,
Her dreams
A tumultuous fusion
Of reality and not;
Of imagination and
Fiction and
Deep desires
Fulfilled only in
Her dreams.

Lost in her own
Colossal realm
She feels,
And thinks,
And hears,
And smells,
And tastes,
And sees…
All.

Chaotic yet
Tranquil and
Twisted threads of
Truth
Intermingle with
Dust
Specks of light
And shadow.
Joy
And sorrow.
Laughter and
Confusion.
Colors and hues
And shades and
Hints
Of love
And life
And wonder
Meet within
The limitless
Kingdom
That only she
Knows.

Images of
Nothingness and
Quiescence
Flood her
Mind:
Blue enfolding red
In cool warm
Endearment,
Intertwined
Hands and
Painted scenes of
Classrooms
Parks
Suns
Skies
Embracing
The world
Flight.
Love.

She tastes
A name
On her lips
And treasures
The emotions
That arrive
With the sweet
Tortuous
Feel
Of beginnings.

Addicted
To the world
Materializing
In her dreams
With her eyes
Closed
And heart
Beating,
Unaware,
She murmurs
Softly
In her sleep:

Please let me
Continue
To dream.

 

 

 

à deux pas d’ici

I took this picture at Prambanan Temple  when my family visited Yogyakarta, Indonesia. Stared at it for a while and thought of a scenario from a story. This is it. I have hopes of continuing this scene and making a novella, if ever I have the time. Hope you like it. :)

_______________________

It seemed to whisper to him, beckoning him to plant his feet on its dark soil; calling him to tread where few had walked before.

“Where does this one lead to?”

He was motionless, fixated on the dark end of the pathway, entranced by the solemn loneliness of the road before him. His voice had been so soft when he asked the question that he was afraid the little girl didn’t hear him.

But she heard. And she looked up at his face and stared until he was forced to meet her piercing gaze. It was only then that he noticed that her eyes were no longer the empty orbs they had been a few hours ago. Now they were filled with a dark knowing.

“Where does this go?” he repeated, knowing that somehow she knew the answer.

Her eyes seemed to bore holes into his soul. She answered simply and spoke with a steadfast conviction unusual for a girl of her age.

“Freedom.”