The Subjectivity in Absorbing Wisdom

There is always that one person who sets the foundation that comes with growing up. Mine had been one who gives basic life hacks as well as outrageous superstitious beliefs, in addition to a whole bunch of advice that affects how I view the spectrum of colors that was the world. Don’t get me wrong, I love many people. I love my mom. I love my grandmother. I love the many women who came in and out of the doors of my childhood in my growing years. I love the mothers of the mothers, the mothers who mother people, and the fathers who stand as mothers. I am at awe on how they seem emit the sense that they had all the experiences of the world at the palm of their hands. 126

But sometimes it takes one idle comment for us to reassess how we look at things and reconstruct our entire view of life entirely.

My grandmother was one who believed in a lot of things. Growing up in your typical regular urban household, skepticism was one trait I’ve learned to harness. There was that belief on breaking a glass would cause 7 years of bad luck (as such I would have been cursed for life with all the glasses I’ve unintentionally murdered). Nor would sweeping the floor at night could also be a magnet for bad luck. I couldn’t be considered one for superstitious beliefs. What I did believed before I dismissed it as nonsensical, was sleeping with your wet hair may cause blindness –I never really found any proof that it would be so. Taking a bath while on your period would drain you of blood – I believed I was anemic for some time until I learned about how the thing works.

Stereotypes had always been involved with child-rearing. Child-rearing begets Life Hacks. Home is where the basics of those are created out of the need to be efficient. I was taught that wonderful art of efficiency in the kitchen, in the living room, in cleaning, and everywhere else where it could be applied.

Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t come with strangers. Don’t accept money (or candy, or anything) from strangers. Don’t stare at strangers. Don’t go near strange animals – or dogs collared and tied up. Pretty much anything about avoiding strangers had been laid down as a standard law in our household. I don’t have any qualms on following those – but as I grow up, I realized that strangers would always have an integral part in my day to day living. Writing stories requires strangers to exist in being. Simply existing in the world requires strangers to meet. Get acquainted with. Get married to. Stuff like that.

I believed in kissing under mistletoe. I believed that there were reindeer whose noses had been red. I believed in Santa Claus – and that he flies and owns elves. I grew up with the belief that the Philippines could have snow over time. I was dumbfounded when I realized mommy wasn’t having an affair with Santa Claus when they were kissing under the mistletoe (the fact could remain true, however, Santa Claus was NOT daddy in disguise). A lot of those beliefs had not been corrected properly and the facts were haphazardly thrown in my direction. These are just facts that were simple enough to be discarded yet have that great of an impact when broken down for thorough analysis. I would have saved some of the shock had I asked the all-knowing people of my past rather than wait until it grew roots and devastate my sense of belief.

To all the mothers who tried so hard to equip us to be able to walk on the realities of life. There were no failures if and when we’ll turn out to be the world’s greatest criminal or the most brilliant of the brilliants. The failures would sprout from our inability to assess and evaluate. What they have laid are the foundations where we could trace the roots of our wisdom – that wisdom that would aid in sifting through the grains of knowledge in our daily living. That the mothers who knows best may actually being biased, that their knowledge was solely dependent on how they wanted us to grow – how we could cope with the world on our own feet.

----- ----- ----- -----

This was a column published with the same name on our school paper:

The Work. Broadsheet (October - December issue, 2015)

Pancakes

I always say that pancakes are the easiest form of cake that could be made (not that pancake is a real cake). We usually make one using a one-step mix that comes in generic boxes from supermarkets and this was the first time that we've created it using authentic four and all other ingredients.

Here, we've used All-purpose flour and baking powder, in addition to evaporated milk, eggs, and butter; though the outcome doesn't look as pleasing as commercial pancakes do. I'm still working on the fluffy factor.

Here's what I've used--

Far from Perfect

Ingredients:

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

3 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon white sugar

1 1/4 cups milk

1 egg 3 tablespoons butter, melted

Directions

1. In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, salt and sugar. Make a well in the center and pour in the milk, egg and melted butter; mix until smooth.

2. Heat a lightly oiled griddle or frying pan over medium high heat. Pour or scoop the batter onto the griddle, using approximately 1/4 cup for each pancake. Brown on both sides and serve hot.

Retrieved from: http://allrecipes.com/recipe/21014/good-old-fashioned-pancakes/

Trending on with Adulting - Coloring Books for Adults

I'm onto Adult Coloring Books at the moment (Courtesy of a boyfriend who thought it might be best to sublimate my depressive epsodes into something aesthetically pleasing) and admittedly, it was kind of relaxing as it takes my mind off things.

Whenever I work, I lose myself in the repetitive task - in patterns, colors, and the constant hum of approval with my color choice. It was a bit conceited in my part since the activity basically gives me the affirmation that I had an artistic eye (which I do think I have. Some times. Most times. Not that people would agree).

Half of the Medium I'm using

I did research on the various color combinations that I could use as well as tips on coloring Mandalas. It was too obsessive, I know, but when I got to it - I knew most of what I've read does not matter. What matters is spontaneity and just taking the color as how I would feel.

I generally use color pencils with coloring, though I also use colored pens, gel pens, permanent markers, and ballpoint pens. It's hard to capture the solid colors with colored pencils and the last thing I wanted is running out of pencils because it'd be too consuming to get the desired effect.

And for all I know, he's going to analyze the color choices I've used in coloring.

** Book published under Creative Minds, an imprint of Precious Pages Corporation

The Good, the Bad, and What Happened Today

I've had a productive day even if it's not going THAT well, a few minutes to midnight.

For starters, I'll fill in the GOOD things.
(1) Classes were done
The actual classes were not that good - considering I want to switch professors right then and there. God, it's an English WRITING class and what she did was discussed the course syllabus (which would have been okay had we not been in the third week of classes). I had to endure agreeing with my whispering classmates behind me if not for the risk of eavesdropping to their conversation.
(2) Constructions
I'd been trying to squeeze my brains out for poem constructions for this year's folio. I've done some and had frsh ideas for any additional ones, though I think my writing prowess has been altered with the change of motiff. We've had social issues previously and it was great because I had a lot of inputs and inspirations. I've been struggling because I can't center on objects.
I think I've done well enough but because I'm naturally (and overly insecure), I feel like rejection is looming over each piece.
(3)... and Starbucks cravings
I've splurged on Green Tea Latte and New York Cheesecake which costed me my whole allowance (and more) for the week. Oh well.
I liked Starbucks because of the ambience and the merchandise (and just the branding), in addition to my nicotine admissions in the past which was where it was often catered - plus, the kick of sugar (and cheese) in my system was fuel to the writer in me.
(4) Column
I had several ideas which brings out chaos in my mind because I can't make up my mind. I'd probably cram the whole thing minutes before the deadline.
Still, I've advanced in a couple of words on an entirely different topic from where I've started. Which was a good thing. Right?
(5) Weekend chore - half done
Groceries. The drawback would include diminishing the supplies earlier in the week. But hey, at least I don't have to get out tomorrow to do the stuff (though I have to face the laundry tomorrow. Ugh)
(6) Research and registration
I'm starting to become a Starbucks nut. Again. Probably due to that free drink from activating the online stuff.

The Bad:
My Boyfriend's workaholism kicking in.
Don't get me wrong, I totally love his dedication at work (and a whole bunch of things that would take too long to numerate). But there are times I feel a bit neglected. Yes, I'm clingy. Yes, I'm so used to being spoiled. And no, I won't hold it against him. I understand things but that doesn't mean I have to like it.

I do a lot of doodles. In class.

Of tress. And wriggly, hairlike things.

Beyond the Border: Her Views. Weird Views.

By the end of the second week that they had been going through Phoenix’s unusual lifestyle. Lucille found what seemed to be her problem in general: she was too un-mainstream to keep up.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t follow through what was being discussed, or that she couldn’t understand anything. It was just that she accepts it rather differently compared to how a normal student would. It wasn’t that she contest things being discussed, or that she passes on a different message when asked. It was just that she refuses to apply some philosophies, and proactively inserts her own viewpoint subjected to certain disclaimers. It wasn’t that she’s being forced on being a mage based on her potential, it was that fact that she was forcing herself to be recognized.

It was during these times that Phoenix’s hostility towards Lucille had been reduced, and she was already beginning to open up in regards to her viewpoints, thoughts, and questions. Though, Lucille, being as stoic as he had always been, never really engage that much and often the conversations cut short if not Phoenix just blabbing her heart away.

“I have never had someone to listen to me before.”

“Why is that?”

She looked at Lucille like he was insane. It was one of those rare moments that Lucille was actually responding to her issues.

“Well,” she said, weighing her words carefully, “people just steer clear of me most of the time because of…”

There was that long silence that Lucille looked up from what he had been writing. He found Phoenix staring at him incredulously as if she never found any one like him all her life.

                “What?”

                “You have never heard of anything? Aren’t you curious?”

                “I’ve heard a lot of things.” He went back to finishing up what he was writing. “And rumors doesn’t actually tell you that much… Here, I’ve simplified those discussions for you.”

Her incredulous stare didn’t flinch as she took the notes from him. She was staring so much that he knew he had to answer at least some of her unasked questions or even show interest on what she does.

He sighed, “There is one question that I wanted to ask.”

She nodded him to continue, red eyes still gazing with that expression. He watched as that face contorted into something else. Disbelief. Surprise. Back to Hostility.

“What did you do to that demon from the exercise?”

It took a moment before she answered. It was as if she had been denying that fact that he had been there to witness whatever happened that day. Truth be told, she had already forgotten that that actually happened just because he wasn’t altogether bringing it up.

It was a good reminder.

“I… let it go.”

He raised an eyebrow to her response but did not press on further.

“Look,” she continued on as he said nothing, “I did exactly as I told her, I let her go.”

“Her?”

“Yeah, it’s a she.”

“How did you know?”

She looked away. Lucille knew that she wasn’t going to answer that one. It seemed as if she already took a lot of risk answering just that question. Had Lucille been impatient on her answers, he showed nothing. He still projected that uninterested façade that Phoenix’s doubts and hostility was becoming a bit inconsistent.

. . . . .

Her next monthly assessment was coming in by next week. By that time, she would be by her 6^th month in the academy. It would depend on that assessment on what would be the course of her schedules. Lucille’s assessment actually falls on the same week, and at this point, most of the masters were already aware of the unusual team-up between the unlikely pair: one who can’t be bothered, and one who always bothers.

The master assigned to Phoenix summoned them the day before Phoenix’s assessment.

“We’re looking towards a great improvement. Aren’t you happy, Phoenix?”

“Does he have to listen to the progress track discussion?”

“He’s… helping out, Phoenix, he has to hear what I have to say. Are you a bit uncomfortable with him being here?”

The master was raising an eyebrow in confusion, he was under the impression that the transcendence and Phoenix were in better terms already given the time that they spent together. The master glanced at Lucille who was keeping a passive face and was looking at him.

Lucille kept on his mask remembering their conversation moments before they were summoned. Phoenix was in one of her hostile moods that she was asking a bunch of questions which Lucille was sarcastically answering with a nod or shrug. She lost her patience and actually walked out of the room just when the master’s servant was about to call upon them for the ‘summon’.

“I could get out if it makes you both comfortable.”

“Please stay and listen in, Lucille, I am going to say this once.” He sighed before continuing on, “Whatever assessment would be given to Phoenix would also affect your own. Were you aware that it would also happen?”

“Yes. Though, it didn’t really matter. My assessment doesn’t seem to have any difference for the past few months.”

The master looked thoughtful for a moment, then made a signal. As if on cue, his servant enters the room.

                “Please escort Phoenix to Master Reis.”

“Excuse me?”

“Master Reis would like to speak with you.”

                “Now?”

                “Yes. We would be waiting here, please be mindful of the time.”

Phoenix looked from the master to Lucille, then nodded. She followed the servant of the room.

                “And she has to be called appropriately at the right moment,” the master snorted.

                “Sir?”

The master looked at him, Lucille then realized that the last bit was a mutter barely inaudible. Lucille cleared his throat.

The master continued on, “Yes, as I was saying earlier. Your results would be affected if the masters found that she had improved from the month before,” he prodded on a bunch of papers in his desk, “these were the comments that the other masters had for various classes and it seemed that your intervention had altered her behavior in classes.”

                “Did she now?”

                “It was quite surprising. She was normally… well, unusual, in her own ways if not totally invisible. Even her practical exams were uneventful, and her detention count seemed to have decreased dramatically.”

                “She probably just needed to have an outlet to some conflicts. I haven’t really done anything different.”

The master looked thoughtful for the second time, “Probably.”

                “Is something wrong, sir?”

“Yes… no,” he made some gestures again, and the servant entered the room once more. “You are being summoned by Master Reis himself,”

Who?

The masters sure had unusual ways communicating with each other. He politely bowed, and stood to follow the waiting servant.

                “Lucille.”

He turned to look at the master who looked like he swallowed something nasty, he was looking at something from his fingertips as he was giving  a sort of a last reminder “Master Reis is of the specialized classes, try not to say anything foolish.”

That explains a lot of things.

---------------------------------------------------------

Fourth.

Beyond the Border: In the Flesh

If he knew that asking about her was the easiest thing to do just so he could meet her, he could have done it the first chance that he could take.

It turned out that the master that confirmed on her being in detention most of the times, was a bit concerned about her… welfare. They talked for a bit after that encounter, and he found that he was the mage responsible for her education. Her and hers alone contrary to the usual procedure.

“What can I say, she’s a special case. Very curious that child is.”

He sent for Lucille the day after. He agreed on overseeing that novice, as it may also aid in his transcendence studies. When he entered the room, there was an inaudible gasp not enough to catch the attention of the master who had his back turned from her, but had been enough to confirm that she recognized him from the joint exercise.

“Please have a seat, Lucille.”

He took a seat opposite hers. She was almost squirming in her seat, where he could tell that she was just sitting on an inch or two of space. Her hands were clasped on her lap, feet tucked almost under the chair itself. He felt himself ease within the awkward confines of the room, and he drew a quick breath before settling to look at her face.

There were subtle changes from her expression from the continuing minutes that he was on the room, not saying anything related to what happened from that time. From the fearful expression that she had before he left, the alarmed and panicked face that welcomed him from this room, to the confused expression that seemed to ask him several questions at once.

He nodded to acknowledge her but kept his expression as bland as possible as not to invite anything from his response. He settled on the fine unusual features on his face before she could incite further queries – something that he should be doing in the first place.

“I’d like you to meet, one of the most talented transcendence in the academy,” the master was addressing the novice. She tore away from her scrutiny to the master, “He had obliged in overseeing your studies, and… provide aid in any way possible.”

Her confused face contorted simultaneously as she let his words sink in. She turned to face the master.

She spoke in response, voice unnaturally too steady, “You want him to… supervise my…” she kept her tone as passive as she could but her last word, took off incredulously, “studies?”

“Lucille had done us a favor that would keep others from minding your business,” The master refused to acknowledge her apparent distaste while scratching his chin thoughtfully, “I really wondered why they spent a lot of times over your affairs. It’s disarming.”

                “Is… is this matter known to Master Reis, yet?”

                “I have his permission to do my affairs as my job entails. Now do you have any other details that you may wish to discuss?”

She winced slightly from his response and decided not to push it any further. He shrugged and turned to the transcendence who had been listening towards the exchange.

The master smiled, a bit darkly to Lucille’s taste, “Good, Lucille, this is Phoenix from the Novice class. We are looking towards working with you until then.”

“A pleasure,” he extended a hand to the novice named Phoenix.

. . . . .

“This is going to be our arrangement starting tomorrow. The master had given me your schedules and assessment results, so I’ve had an idea on what we’ll be looking at.”

He handed her another sheet of paper.

“This is my class schedule, just so you would know where to look for me in case.”

They were walking away from the master’s study. Phoenix was on her way to her next class, and he was going the other way to the libraries and training grounds for his free time. He handed her another stack of papers. She took him in askance, he knew that it wasn’t just to ask what those papers were – it was for a lot of things that he chose to ignore. For now.

“Those were study guides for your classes. Read through them, review then we’ll talk about them for later.”

“Why are you doing this?”

He smiled. “I could say the same to you.”

She opened her mouth to say something when he turned away, he heard a hiss coming from her. He was pretty sure she said, “Jerk” pertaining to either is attitude or him in general.

She sure knows how to spice up anyone’s day.

. . . . .

Their schedule for the catch-up was every day at lunch, the evenings after dinner, the whole weekend, and anytime a class was cancelled or provided as a free study period. As the transcendence schedule was that flexible and that Lucille had an excuse this time – he could easily be pardoned from the changes in Phoenix’s schedule.

Their first catch-up was a revelation.

Where Lucille was all too willing to ‘oversee’ things that involve Phoenix’s study. She was entirely too hostile to his questions and advances.

She was all too sensitive for her sake.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t think it matters. Do you?”

She hesitated.

“What do you know about me?” she finally said.

He knew that she was going to head towards that direction sooner or later. But he chose to delay it yet again. He answered rather bored, and uninterested that Phoenix became unsure what his real intentions were. He answered all those rumors that she already knew about in addition to what the master had introduced her to be.

She didn’t venture to that question again. Instead she reverted on what seems as her usual way of doing things: a bit sloppy, all too uninterested, and a bit stupid – if anyone asked Lucille of any analysis. It seemed to him that he saw a threatened spy at the beginning reduced to rebellious kid just masking her own intent with what she projects.

By the end of the first session, she had dissipated his initial regard on her capabilities, and if he hadn’t witnessed and proved that encounter at the joint exercise, he would have concluded that she was an entirely different persona.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Now I'm getting embarrassed. Third.

Beyond the Border: She... As the Rumors Said

Mont Dia is the only academy catering towards the production of mages, aiming to conquer malicious demons – that was the definition as per the students within the academy. It was the only Mage Academy in existence within the entire Andromeda plain, and students came from the highlands, and the lowlands. Majority of the prospects were scouted, some grew up with the mindset that this is the only path that they need to take, and the rest were something like passing by and just went out of the interest within the possibility that they could be a prospect.

Lucille was of the third type. He didn’t exactly planned on growing up to be a mage. He wasn’t even scouted. He was just there, took the prospects exam, and became one of the top students in the academy. He had already been in the academy for 15 months. He had already been promoted towards the next level from being a Novice – a transcendence. One of the few first ones from his novice batch. But the way that he was stuck on being a transcendence for about a year (and counting), he wasn’t all too satisfied even though the masters had been telling him that the transcendence had always been the most difficult level within the academy. And he believed it. However half-hearted, he believed it. That is, until that encounter.

Never in his stay had he encountered a Novice such as red-eyes from yesterday.

He replayed the scene over and over from his mind, analyzing any detail that might explain what the Novice did with the demon. He recalled the bright light, the spot where the demon disappeared from, and what the novice was doing. Nothing. It was all too general.

He knew that he couldn’t just ask anyone about this incident. This goes beyond Mont Dia. Beyond what they are being taught. Exterminate and Overrule – were the core values that they were being taught. Prospects were being trained to be mages, one who would kill a demon on sight. And what she did, for what she claimed that she would do, was out of the line. It was a crime of high treason.

. . . . .

The good thing about being the kind of guy Lucille is, was that no one cares about him.

He wasn’t really one of those types that just escapes your attention. He looks fine. Handsome even. From his novice batch, he had always been the first guy that girls notice, guys approach, even the masters. Lucille had been gifted with the endless possibilities and superior potential. He could have been that popular type with huge crowd and that package that could make him famous in the social hierarchy. But he had an unusual wave of thinking that always goes to show that he wasn’t that. That he was beyond that. He was the type that intimidates people into leaving him alone.

It suits him just fine on whatever cases. This had been one of those cases. He was able to hear things where people would never care if he hears. He wasn’t any worth to be thought off enough to withhold anything from his range of hearing. It led him to identify who that red-eyed novice was.

“Who was that red-eyed chick that Master ____ was talking to?”

“Eh? I saw her talk to Master _____, is she a celebrity or anything?”

“I know her, she was on my Gen-Ed class! She’s not that good though”

“I think I saw her, she used to be in my demons class… huh? She was transferred from yours?”

He walked by hallways between classes. Occasionally picking out groups of novices to listen into. The novices didn’t mind, they already knew from their first encounter with him that he wasn’t worth any attention. Unless, they would want to relive any… unwanted encounters. The only instance of interaction from this batch of Novices was just one student who mistakenly approached him, thinking he was that accommodating senior. It wasn’t that much of an incident, though that novice wasn’t able to attend the first week of his classes claiming that he was sick – but the rumors were already there about how he stared and the unspoken nightmares that he brought upon the unsuspecting novice.

“I’ve heard she had some connections with the higher masters from the specialized classes.”

“Eeeh?! Was that why she’s not being expelled?”

“She’s never been in a class for longer than a week?”

Even the students and masters of the transcendence class knew of her existence. Though it wasn’t a position that any Novice would actually dream of being into. The transcendence knew far more details based on experience and knowledge of the academy more than the amateur ears. Though, the rumors branched out more far-fetched, no concrete proof, and were just based on the Novice’s rumors. Most masters from the transcendence class were also involved within occasional discussions – which happens when they caught her from the transcendence levels.

“She’s here for detention. She’s quite known for that.” Was a response when he asked one of the masters from his class, the master looked at him rather suspiciously, “Why do you ask?”

That it was a dangerous risk that he was willing to participate into. He smiled relieving the suspicions from the unsuspecting master, “Everyone seems to be talking about her, I was just curious.”

Her reputation is a mess. There were those rumors from here and there about various things leading from hypothesis to the most outrageous outcomes. From what he could tell was this: She’s known to the Masters as a troublemaker, worthless, and stupid; she’s admitted to the school based on connections rather than willingness or potential; and the student body called her Detention Phoenix.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Second Chapter.

Beyond the Border: First Encounter

He was fleeing.

Not that he couldn’t fight or that he was any weaker. He just didn’t want to make it more complicated as it was. After all, mages couldn’t be too perfect right?

He was getting a bit bored of the run around and was already taking most of his efforts to stop himself from being turning around to deal with the monstrosity chasing him. It was an exercise, they were told, to test how they would react in lieu of their natural environment. ‘Them’ were the demons, the ultimate foe of mankind and ones who were squandering innocent villages and killing bystanders.

He was running around in an effort to pass his time, his assigned demon already lost sight of him from a few moments back. When he felt an overwhelming energy sprouting almost suddenly. He stopped.

What an incredible control.

He knew from experience that controlling the energy from wielding could be tedious and that not a lot of mages (in training) could pass it off like THAT. Even demons that they’ve already studied and encountered were not able to exhibit such capability. He paused and concentrated, standing still assessing the surroundings. He was already at the far edge of the forest, no one within a 50 km estimated radius based on his initial scan. His mapping skills were incomparable, as what the masters of the academy told him, and within that radius he could easily map the heat signatures. He closed his eyes, trying to get a visual. He turned to run towards that hazy blot with such excitement – it was a first that he got an inconclusive response to his mapping.

He got to a small clearing, exactly as what he had mapped in his mind. It was more chaotic than he could imagine. His map showed him a hazy blot in a space, the actual space gives out an opaline gleam which he couldn’t make any sense apart from a powerful energy. In addition, he could sense that the energy was somehow limited to a certain range, like his mapping does. This particular range covers a rather small part in meters radius.

He opened his eyes, dispelling his map after memorizing the inconclusive image. The first thing that he saw was a demon.

A plantae type. Herbivore and attacks only by defense. It was a teenager, in terms of growth, about 6 feet in height. It’s built was man-like, bulky, lank, and nude in patches of the color of a variety of leaves. It stands erect on two limbs, two other pairs of limbs sticking on its flanks. One pair drawn to protect its chest, one pair in defense poised to attack once provoked.

He lifted his eyes to its face. It was apparently stronger than the demon chasing him. It was hostile, distracted even, that it didn’t even notice anything apart from what it was looking at. It was staring through solid black eyes, face contorted in fear (it was hard to tell as their faces lack too much of the human features) with its thin antennas quivering. He gave a start, it was quivering. He hadn’t seen demons quiver before.

“You can understand me, can you?”

The voice startled him. This was probably what the demon had been looking at. He didn’t notice anything but the demon, and when he found the object to where the energy was emanating, his eyes widened at the sight of its owner. A mage novice. A tiny one. She looks about one of the youngest prospects who entered the academy, only 14-15 years of age. She had her back turned from him, but she is clearly wearing a novice uniform. It had a ring and 5 beads – an indication that she was on her first year, 5 months from when she entered the academy. It was not surprising that there should be a novice within these woods, it is a joint session between them and the transcendence. What was surprising was how he could feel her presence more than the demon itself.

“Then hear me out, little one. See, I don’t mean any harm.” She was answering to a gesture the demon made that he missed upon his observing her.

What is she doing?

He casted all prejudices aside to contemplate later, he felt the need to observe this unusual exchange. Gradually, he felt the changes. The energy declined. Dramatically. He felt more of the demon now contrast to the massive energy she had been emitting earlier. The energy dropped almost next to nothingness and he saw how the demon visibly relaxed. The novice raised he hand a bit slightly in a non-threatening manner as if to show the demon on how she is surrendering to what she had been demanding, and walked towards it slowly, cautious even, but confident. Her long black hair swaying with the wind.

“What are you doing, fearless one?”

“I…” She stopped. “…am letting you go.”

It was a split second, he saw her hand lift outstretched, level to her shoulders before there was an instant moment of bright light. He couldn’t tell where the light came from, it was as if he closed his eyes and found the bright light instead of darkness. When he was brought by to his senses, and the light seemed that it never existed, the demon was already gone. He was stunned, she couldn’t have killed it. She was just a novice. It was altogether too clean for annihilation even for the most powerful.

What did she do?

A sounding alarm went off. It was a signal that the exercise is just about done. The novice still had her back turned from him and was just about to go when he found his voice. He coughed just on the slightest, almost inaudible but was satisfyingly enough. At least for the novice. She turned towards the noise, her wide eyes, bright red like fresh blood, staring fearfully at his. He’s already pressed for time.

“I’ll see you around.”

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I've had a lot of Neurotic Tendencies, er, daydreaming fantasy and stuff.

For K

Loving you is an Ethereal Bliss

                that sets the f i r e w o r k s

                                in an uncanny motion

- the dizzying lights:

                a sunburst of faded colors,

    bright as cosmic rays.

Your Love feels like a f

                                              a

                                                  L

                                                      L

     f r e e d o m       from jumping

                when you're acrophobic

   like stars,

like comets plummeting in

                speeds of light

like rains of silvers amidst

                                a dark blanket

     in haste to kiss the

                                                  ground

collapsing in an agreeing echo.

Your Love brings tears to my eyes

when I thought my soul has dried

                H U M A N I T Y

                                in me.

Your Love, the opposite of wicked -

   the selfless desire that lights candles

with a breath of   a  i  r

Your Love is no Hearts

but         flowers                 without roots

    wishes             that heeded                       nothing,

songs with no                     music

                music with no                     captions

                                captions with no                              words

Your Love is a MAGNUM OPUS -

timeless  t h e m e  that held        No Limits.

Your Love is my

                                       anchor,

                one that sets

   a thread - thin as it may - back to the

                                                                     ground

The place I was made

                                                The place where we met. //030716

Life Update: The Story in Between bouts of Something

Classes have started barely a month over and I still can't get over the fact that I've only enrolled in two courses - which is something my mom can't believe I've done but can't do anything about.
Not that I have any other options, though I've had choices. We all have choices. If there was one thing that I've learned from all the movies I've watched, all the books I've read: We always have choices. Even having no choice is choosing not to choose.

So, options. And the situation I'm wading in:
(1) I'm not working.
I wished and I'm looking but that doesn't mean that I wanted to. I kinda succumb myself to the fact that I cannot be a working student as I tend to let go of the student part. (Being an undergraduate at my age is such a nag. I can't move on until I appeased what my mother wanted for me. I can't move on until I caved to stereotypical society telling me that I had to have a degree in order to belong to the educated masses.) I spend most of my time wallowing in self-destructive thoughts whilst projecting depression to my not-so-long-distanced boyfriend. Sometimes (okay, MOST of the time) I read books.

(2) Extra-curricular activity
Did I ever mention I'm part of the school publication?
Not that it was something. SOMETHING.
I liked the challenge when I applied. I've always loved writing. In campus journalism or plain journalism - I liked voicing what I thought. Column-ing, if you may. The creative writing of a non-fictitious something called Feature Writing. Literary poetry. I hate news and current events.
I think editing counts as an expression for my love of grammar and the English vocabulary.
I've used a miniscules of my spare time contemplating quiting but not really pushing through - I might regret it. I might not. I'm just lazy. But I'm getting something out of it anyway, so I might as well stick.

(3) Diseases and "You reap what you sow"
That's probably the mantra we have at home whenever we can't EAT what we want. Specifically, my dad. Diabetes is a sucker with the whole lifestyle change and shit. When we won't follow, complications lurk.
It's a sad life when you're eating cardboard viands and saltless soggy stuff while everyone else basically eats spices and oils and lard. Stuff that you can't eat just because.
And the medicines. I held the family budget and I'm technically scraping the bottom of the barrel to meet the week's end. I can't even do Starbucks or any acquired vice based on coffee shops and wifi.


Well, that's about the flip side. My usual train of thought if I'm not thinking about poetic scraps, deadlines, or stuff.