The cabinet apocalypse

November 16th, 2008 • 2 comments Narratives, Nostalgia, Personal, Random, Thoughts
Tags: blog, cabinet, cat, tumblr

(image from this link)

On the corner of my cluttered room, lies a five-foot tall cabinet. Adjacent to it is a long bench which mom put there just for the hell of it. I move the bench because it’s covering the bottom drawer. I open the bottom drawer and a cloud of dust nearly intoxicates me.

Inside is a lot of things — papers, old test papers, my sister’s test papers, envelopes containing papers, pokemon stuff, Diablo playstation CD, DVDs, pictures, ripped gift wrappers, some top secret stuff, and a lot of old stuff.

In the first place, I don’t know what came into my mind why I suddenly felt like opening the bottom drawer of that cabinet. Second, a huge mass of nostalgia hit me from the back as I browse through the things there. And it sort of reminded me of how far I’ve reached and the things I’ve been doing the past few years. Oh well. I guess things are just there to remind you that they’re there and that someday, they might be moved to somewhere.

Another random post. Gah. Been doing nothing much these days.

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PUSANG-INAMOY.TUMBLR.COM

Believe it or not, my cat has a blog. And I’m helping her to promote it. She says that she wants to have readers. So, if ever you have time, kindly drop a visit and a comment on my cat’s blog, http://pusang-inamoy.tumblr.com

On the corner of darkness

November 5th, 2008 • 2 comments Emoshitness, Fiction, Narratives, Thoughts
Tags: dark, dragons, dreams, harry potter, room, wizard

The clicks of the keyboard fill in the dark room as I push the keys non-stop. The bright light of the monitor penetrated my inflamed eyes as I could feel nothing but the twitching of my eyebrows. I could feel insects creeping up the walls but I was too busy to mind them. I kept on typing words I don’t understand and sentences that I couldn’t seem to follow. Then, something in my head made me stop the flow of words in the monitor. Then there was silence in the dusk.

I heard footsteps slowly going to a direction I don’t know. Then the door creaked open as I immediately turned my head to see who was there. It was my mother, calling me to eat dinner. She was speaking out words I don’t know, perhaps, a different language. But why did my mind know what she meant? I gently pushed the chair backwards and stood up. I walked my way to the door with numb feet and aching knees. It was a weird feeling, to tell you the truth, as if I was an old man trying to walk unsupported in spite of arthritis.

As I reached for the door, my hand was shaking and my elbow was making a squeaky noise. I turned the knob but the door didn’t open. I tried again, but still, it won’t let me out. With all my strength, I let out another shot to open the door. And when it opened, a bunch of clothes exploded out on me. Damn! It was the closet.

I kept on crawling in the dark as I was looking for the door. My hands were feeling the floor and I was moving…moving…until my head hit the wall. I was hurt and just sat myself on the floor as I let the pain own me.

On the corner of darkness, I sat. Meters away from me, the computer was still open, the text I was writing was still there. I stood up and walked some inches in the side of the room but I suddenly tripped on something. It felt like a wire, but I don’t know…everything was dark. Then, a lightning cracked and hatched a loud thunder and a strong gush of downpour fell down. And on the other side of the room, the light beaming out from the monitor was suddenly gone. I immediately thought that the wire I tripped on was the extension wire to which the computer was plugged in. I couldn’t see the text that I typed anymore. And it was just then that I realized that I didn’t save my work. The text…the long text with huge paragraphs and random sentences was gone…my dreams were gone. My random dreams in life which I kept on typing the whole day were gone.

On the corner of darkness, I sat. Meters away from me, the computer was off, the text I was writing was no more there. I felt another hit in the head when I thought that instead of looking for the door, for the way out, I should have looked for the light switch first so that everything in the room was clear. I should have reached for the right door, I should have not accidentally unplugged the computer, and I should have saved my work, the text, my dreams.

On the corner of darkness, I stood up. I looked for the light and switched it on. I plugged the computer and typed again the lost text. I saved it and went for the door and went out of the room.

There were regrets, I know. But someday, I shall be a very good artist or a writer or a mathematician or a scientist, while saving millions of lives each day with dragons flying with me or with house elves serving me a hot cup of coffee each morning. And I know, Harry Potter shall be a very good wizard friend.

Stay plastic. Stay tragic.

October 20th, 2008 • 5 comments Fiction, Humor, Narratives, Random, Thoughts, XXX

TRAGIC — “”I swear to Walt Disney kid, I’m going to rape you!”

***BEWARE: Uber-lengthy and contains unpleasant words. Lolz. But heck, who cares? Read on…

A real tragic story starts and ends with dullness, and with people who claim to be devastated when it is obvious they’re stoned, dressed in stupid costumes and pretending to die.

One tragic story begins in a far away land where there is nothing but tall, brown grasses. Along the vast area of boring grass and orange sunset, lies a small hut. Living there is a young, fine lady of the name Snowball. Snowball loves to wander off the woods, fluttering like moronic butterflies, swaying her rugged smelly skirt, and singing dumb songs only a fairy-tale tramp would only most likely to sing.

Snowball lives with her aging parents who do nothing for a living, but picking fruits and vegetables from someone else’s farm. One morning, while Snowball’s parents were out to steal food, Snowball was at her bedroom window, talking to birds like a schizophrenic prostitute. “What should I do today, bird?” asked Snowball.
“Tweeeet. Tweet. Tweeeeet.” answered the bird.
“That’s a great idea, bird. But I can’t. Mother and Father would get angry if they would know I’m out.”
“Tweeeeeeeeeeet. Tweeet.”
“Are you sure they won’t know?”
“Tweeet.”
“Okay then, let’s go out.”

Birds are a bad influence. I knew those tweeets mean something. Anyway, so Snowball went out, frolicking in the woods, singing and talking to animals. Fairy tales sure are full of retards. But heck, kids love that.

Before tragedy came in, Snowball felt tired from all that craziness she’d been doing. So, when she came by a stream in the middle of the woods, she felt a bit exhausted. So she took her dirty dress off and dipped into the cold stream, totally nekkid. Birds kept on tweeting, rabbits kept on hopping, and wolves kept of howling as the nekkid Snowball dipped herself, deeper and deeper, into the cold stream.

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