The Fence by Jose Garcia Villa

khevinstinct

They should have stood apart, away from each other, those two nipa houses. There should have been a lofty impenetrable wall between them, so that they should not stare so coldly, so starkly, at each other—just staring, not saying a word, not even a cruel word. Only a yard of parched soil separated them, a yard of brittle-crusted earth with only a stray weed or two to show there was life still in its bosom.

They stood there on the roadside, they two alone, neighborless but for themselves, and they were like two stealthy shadows, each avid to betray the other. Queer old houses. So brown were the nipa leaves that walled and roofed them that they looked musty, gloomy. One higher than the other, pyramid-roofed, it tried to assume the air of mastery, but in vain. For though the other was low, wind-bent, supported without by luteous bamboo poles…

View original post 2,157 more words

Advertisements

Raindrops

The first thing that comes into my mind when I see raindrops, is the look I saw in your eyes when you left me for another man.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, just after our Filipino class. You came at my desk, looking pale and uneasy

“We need to talk,” you said in your normal voice. I didn’t suspect anything wrong at first. I even happily made joke about you when you didn’t answered the questions our teacher had given you. But when we sat down inside the shades of the mango tree, things began to turn out bad.

“Hey, why are you crying? I-I-I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings with that joke,” I said politely, because I became stressed at that time. I never saw you cry like that. Then you suddenly dropped the words I am not expecting to hear from you.

“Let’s end this,” you said. Then tears again rolled down from your eyes, like it isn’t stopping. From that moment, I knew what is happening. My girlfriend for 4 years is now wanting our relationship to end.

“I am sorry but, it’s like we are going nowhere. This is going nowhere. And I don’t want to fool you for the next years that we will be together,” you added, still sobbing. Honestly, I am doubting to ask you about something that time, but my emotions are already fired up at that time.

“Are you seeing anyone besides me?” I asked. I dropped it. But you weren’t ready to pick it up. But after a few seconds, I saw a nod.

At first I thought you just flipped your hair because of the windy air, but no. That nod meant ‘yes’. Suddenly I bursted into tears. I cursed while crying. I cursed at you, I cursed at the guy you are seeing, I cursed the world for being a dick, even destiny. For that, I am sorry. A few seconds later, I gained control over my emotions. I stopped crying.

“Well, I guess it ends here,” I said like nothing happened. “Well, good luck with your life with him, may he take care of you well and may you find the things I don’t have on him so you won’t be running back to me — oh hell what am I saying? Just, just good luck. I gotta go,” I ended.

Honestly after my emotional breakdown, I lost my capacity to care for you because technically, he must be the one doing the job by that time, but you know the rules in breaking-up: you must pass the baton by ending with an obligatory yet ‘warm’ speech of ‘good luck’.

As I was ready to leave, I forgot to give you something. “Hey, before I leave, take this.”

“W-w-what’s this?” you asked.

“Oh, nothing. Just read it. I gotta go,” I said, then ran like the wind, and disappeared, just like what will happen to me in your memories.

And like the raindrops, those memories will evaporate in the skies, and will be again a part of the water cycle of sadness, and will, again, make me remember of that day when you broke-up with me.

Group Demands President Obama Revoke Bill Cosby Medal

TIME

A sexual violence awareness group is demanding that the White House revoke Bill Cosby’s Presidential Medal of Freedom, in light of the sexual assault allegations against him.

“The Presidential Medal of Freedom is the highest award bestowed on civilians for their contributions to society,” states a petition started by the group Promoting Awareness | Victim Empowerment (PAVE), which had received several hundred signatures as of Wednesday evening. “Bill Cosby does not deserve to be on the list of distinguished recipients.”

Cosby received the medal in 2002 from President George W. Bush.

Revoking the medal would be unprecedented, according to the White House, but PAVE’s founder, Angela Rose, believes it’s necessary in this case.

“The Presidential Medal of Freedom is the highest honor to any American civilian, and Bill Cosby’s name does not belong on it,” Rose told TIME.

The Chicago-based group takes issue with the fact that “Cosby admitted…

View original post 131 more words

Disorganized thoughts, disoriented feelings.

“Emosyonal ka lang kasi umuulan.”

I am not emotional because it is raining. It’s because there’s no suspension of classes for tomorrow.

That’s not the way it should’ve been.

We had our bodies unite with each other. It was weird. It was something to celebrate for, but not with your close relatives, even your family. For it is not a celebration like a birthday, or an anniversary, or something festive. It is a celebration of life — the creation of another life. Procreation.

But that’s not the way it should’ve been.

I thought we will just experiment with our bodies, try something new, something exciting. You got so excited, you came inside me.

That’s not the way it should’ve been.

We played on fire. A dangerous fire that we can’t escape, even if we stop, drop and roll. We both ruined each other’s lives, yet you blamed me for seducing you. Fuck it off!

That’s not the way it should’ve been.

My family threw me out of the house when they knew what happened. They were searching for you. I was searching for you, yet you were gone already and flew to US.

That’s not the way it should’ve been.

So now, if you are reading this, I made my decision. I aborted our “experiment”. Our mistake. Our child. I felt guilt at first, but I didn’t give a care after. It was our fault. It was our mistake. It was our night.

And that’s not the way it should’ve been.