Wish I could tell you everything.
Wish I have the courage to share to you all that's inside me, my thoughts in my head and my feelings buried deeply in my heart. How I envy you both, listening to your real fairy tales in life, sharing your deepest secrets, your almost unbearable pains and your most never ending romantic love stories. Yes, we do laugh and cry together. We do always have a friendly talk, exchanging words to each other and we have extreme laughter and heartaches that's almost impossible to endure. But those are only all about the accounts of some happenings in your exulting life. And I really feel envious, wishing you too will laugh and cry on my stories. How extremely sad it is for me. I tried to tell you but you didn't show interest. You only give me a smile and some complimentary words and it's all bullshit to me. I don't need those. I also wanted to see your big mouths open wide or bleed with tears when I'm happy or hurt. You do that because you never think or maybe even refuse to believe that I can also meet the very same combination of circumstances or cases you have. And why is that? That's because you never let me grow up in your eyes. And what hurts me most is that you only know the outer part of me. You never really know the real me because what you see in me is a girl in her red shoes, wearing a pink dress.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
EMILY
It was fifteen years later when I came back home after I got pregnant and my father drove me away. He was so angry for I could never tell who the father is.
I walked through the dark forest to have a shortcut towards my house. There were creepy movements on the bushes and chirping sounds of the crickets. And the wind was howling and I realized that a storm was coming. I walked faster and faster carrying my two luggage. Suddenly, the lightning strikes, the growling thunder claps, and then the rain started to pour down on me. I began to ran as fast as I could and then I saw a smoke coming from the chimney and I thought my house couldn't be far enough. I could already hear distinct voices from the distance and soon I saw them driving the horses to the stables and my old lady shouted at them to hurry and come inside the house. At first I was hesitant to knock on the door as I saw my old pal through the window puffing his pipe and drinking his whiskey with two other men. I could still remember how he beat me up like a wild boar and stoned me away from them while my mother was crying, watching at me helplessly, trying to stop him, but there was nothing she could do.
I was soaking wet when I knocked on the door twice and mother hurriedly opened the door. She stood there about half a minute, not knowing what to say. She was stunned and surprised and she almost burst into tears. I had my arms wide open and embraced her tightly. She took me into the kitchen and told my father that his daughter was home, her Emily was home. He turned around to look at me and his arrogant face and proud heart were there no longer. There were only tears and then, I was home again.
I was back on riding horses with my father, Joe and Ray. And during dinner I told them my stories, my life in the city and how my little girl had grown. I told them I will bring her here soon after school.
One morning, my father had an early visitors and the lady asked him who I was and my papa called me from the kitchen. He introduced me to John, to his wife Maria, and to his friend Gayle. We shook hands but except John who hardly looked at me. Papa said they were his often visitors because they owe him a lot of money. My eyes were still kept on John, his features were so familiar to me and I thought I saw him from somewhere a long time ago. After that, I couldn't stop thinking and wondering who he was. I was so curios about him.
Weeks later, only John this time often came to our house and brought more whiskey and flowers for me. There was something about this man. His voice was fairly familiar and then I remembered. I was trembling and could hardly breathe. I ran away from the house, went to the woods, crying, "I remember him. I knew that man, though it was only once that I saw him. Of course how could I forget that man...".
It was already dark when I started to walk back to the house when I saw a man lying on the ground. It was John, and he was very drunk. I put his arm around my neck and helped him walked towards the house and I realized how drunk my child's father was.
I walked through the dark forest to have a shortcut towards my house. There were creepy movements on the bushes and chirping sounds of the crickets. And the wind was howling and I realized that a storm was coming. I walked faster and faster carrying my two luggage. Suddenly, the lightning strikes, the growling thunder claps, and then the rain started to pour down on me. I began to ran as fast as I could and then I saw a smoke coming from the chimney and I thought my house couldn't be far enough. I could already hear distinct voices from the distance and soon I saw them driving the horses to the stables and my old lady shouted at them to hurry and come inside the house. At first I was hesitant to knock on the door as I saw my old pal through the window puffing his pipe and drinking his whiskey with two other men. I could still remember how he beat me up like a wild boar and stoned me away from them while my mother was crying, watching at me helplessly, trying to stop him, but there was nothing she could do.
I was soaking wet when I knocked on the door twice and mother hurriedly opened the door. She stood there about half a minute, not knowing what to say. She was stunned and surprised and she almost burst into tears. I had my arms wide open and embraced her tightly. She took me into the kitchen and told my father that his daughter was home, her Emily was home. He turned around to look at me and his arrogant face and proud heart were there no longer. There were only tears and then, I was home again.
I was back on riding horses with my father, Joe and Ray. And during dinner I told them my stories, my life in the city and how my little girl had grown. I told them I will bring her here soon after school.
One morning, my father had an early visitors and the lady asked him who I was and my papa called me from the kitchen. He introduced me to John, to his wife Maria, and to his friend Gayle. We shook hands but except John who hardly looked at me. Papa said they were his often visitors because they owe him a lot of money. My eyes were still kept on John, his features were so familiar to me and I thought I saw him from somewhere a long time ago. After that, I couldn't stop thinking and wondering who he was. I was so curios about him.
Weeks later, only John this time often came to our house and brought more whiskey and flowers for me. There was something about this man. His voice was fairly familiar and then I remembered. I was trembling and could hardly breathe. I ran away from the house, went to the woods, crying, "I remember him. I knew that man, though it was only once that I saw him. Of course how could I forget that man...".
It was already dark when I started to walk back to the house when I saw a man lying on the ground. It was John, and he was very drunk. I put his arm around my neck and helped him walked towards the house and I realized how drunk my child's father was.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
I'm Thinking...
I'm thinking why earth
has to spin,
how it came to
life.
I'm thinking why
humans are special
than the rest.
I'm thinking that
humans are
actually fool,
given the gift
of life, but
destroyed it.
I'm thinking why
people become
stupid,
thinking they can
make the world
go round with money.
I'm thinking if God is
forgiving, then
who will go to hell?
I'm thinking what
will a fault finder
do in heaven?
hmmmmm?
has to spin,
how it came to
life.
I'm thinking why
humans are special
than the rest.
I'm thinking that
humans are
actually fool,
given the gift
of life, but
destroyed it.
I'm thinking why
people become
stupid,
thinking they can
make the world
go round with money.
I'm thinking if God is
forgiving, then
who will go to hell?
I'm thinking what
will a fault finder
do in heaven?
hmmmmm?
April 12,2009
Last week, I never had the chance to write something on my blog. Anyway, I'll just sum up all the things I did last week.
It was Thursday night,second day of April. I rode a bus together with my mom and my two elder sisters. There wasn't a lot of things happened last week. I just spent my time there reading my 1000 plus, pages-book and sometimes play monopoly with my family. It was really fun, though I never get the chance to win but atleast I never loose.
Saturday, April 4, my cousin's birthday. After the eating and all that stuff, all my cousins and friends(teenager's bond) went to our aunt's hut. We bought 4 cases of beers and drunk them all. We were talking, making fun at each other and damn, we are all drunk. We really had a hell of a night. I went home and vomited and it was awfully disgusting. But I don't give a shit. As long as I had fun, that's what matters to me.
When Holy Week arrived, we didn't eat a lot. Oh, well the food wasn't that delicious anyway. And we had our usual family conversation. My Dad's historic knowledge is on again. He talks again about the history of Rome and I love him for that. Anyway there was not much to talk on those days. And that's all, end of story.
It was Thursday night,second day of April. I rode a bus together with my mom and my two elder sisters. There wasn't a lot of things happened last week. I just spent my time there reading my 1000 plus, pages-book and sometimes play monopoly with my family. It was really fun, though I never get the chance to win but atleast I never loose.
Saturday, April 4, my cousin's birthday. After the eating and all that stuff, all my cousins and friends(teenager's bond) went to our aunt's hut. We bought 4 cases of beers and drunk them all. We were talking, making fun at each other and damn, we are all drunk. We really had a hell of a night. I went home and vomited and it was awfully disgusting. But I don't give a shit. As long as I had fun, that's what matters to me.
When Holy Week arrived, we didn't eat a lot. Oh, well the food wasn't that delicious anyway. And we had our usual family conversation. My Dad's historic knowledge is on again. He talks again about the history of Rome and I love him for that. Anyway there was not much to talk on those days. And that's all, end of story.
