Post your originally made Short Story/ies here so that everybody can read it and have a chance to appreciate your talent. Tho this thread does not support Plagiarism. Thank you for posting
Don't you get the game yet?
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- November 12, 2009 2:35 pm
ehem..here's a try:
Monotony
I'm still breathing, but I doubt if that even matters. This cramped place with the smell of decay, and old memories lost is all I got left that makes me feel me. Here in my room, sitting upright on this rickety chair, currently skimming through all these reams of paper scattered in front of my desk. All I see are papers; some have miniscule writings, others just tattered from constant writing - putting words on top of the other, most of what I've written are crossed out, why its like that still remains a mystery to me. All this writing of words stumbling one after another, hoping some of it would show any semblance of sensibility. Looking more closely, I see bits and pieces, here and there, reminding me who I was, who I am, and some even telling me who I will be.
All this jumble of papers - stapled, folded, burned, cut, and torn - still trying to say I'm here. Hoping against hope that by writing everything down could save me. Wishing that by allowing the pen to touch the paper - being guided by a hand that knows no rest - I could still cling onto a tangible reality.
I'm writing everything down because it kills time. It allows the minutes to die, and the succeeding hours to famish. By recording everything down, I'm able to gather some inner peace - quiet but not quite - to help me continue on to chronicle my existence. Why I'm not at ease is one of the reasons I'm doing this; did I did something wrong? Am I suppose to remember? Do I have to forget? These thoughts whir and stir in my head already filled with dread. What I do know is something's off kilter, its just my mind could not - would not - try to deal with it at the moment. As if my exhausted brain is telling me what I've done would just add peril to my current predicament.
Do you want to know my name?
Do you really have to know my name?
I guess you should avoid pressing that subject, its not that I don't want to tell you, its just that it hardly gives bearing to this entry I'm creating right now. What are names anyway? Aren't they just words to articulate an object? Giving you rights to claim that object is what it is?
It won't matter anyway; not in this place. especially not this time.
Monotony
I'm still breathing, but I doubt if that even matters. This cramped place with the smell of decay, and old memories lost is all I got left that makes me feel me. Here in my room, sitting upright on this rickety chair, currently skimming through all these reams of paper scattered in front of my desk. All I see are papers; some have miniscule writings, others just tattered from constant writing - putting words on top of the other, most of what I've written are crossed out, why its like that still remains a mystery to me. All this writing of words stumbling one after another, hoping some of it would show any semblance of sensibility. Looking more closely, I see bits and pieces, here and there, reminding me who I was, who I am, and some even telling me who I will be.
All this jumble of papers - stapled, folded, burned, cut, and torn - still trying to say I'm here. Hoping against hope that by writing everything down could save me. Wishing that by allowing the pen to touch the paper - being guided by a hand that knows no rest - I could still cling onto a tangible reality.
I'm writing everything down because it kills time. It allows the minutes to die, and the succeeding hours to famish. By recording everything down, I'm able to gather some inner peace - quiet but not quite - to help me continue on to chronicle my existence. Why I'm not at ease is one of the reasons I'm doing this; did I did something wrong? Am I suppose to remember? Do I have to forget? These thoughts whir and stir in my head already filled with dread. What I do know is something's off kilter, its just my mind could not - would not - try to deal with it at the moment. As if my exhausted brain is telling me what I've done would just add peril to my current predicament.
Do you want to know my name?
Do you really have to know my name?
I guess you should avoid pressing that subject, its not that I don't want to tell you, its just that it hardly gives bearing to this entry I'm creating right now. What are names anyway? Aren't they just words to articulate an object? Giving you rights to claim that object is what it is?
It won't matter anyway; not in this place. especially not this time.
No, I don't think you're paranoid. I think you're the opposite of paranoid. I think you walk around with the insane delusion that people like you.
[short story] ang usok na'to at ang pagibig mo (part 1)
by tranquildarkness (me)
Isang ordinaryong araw noon. Oras na ng aking uwian. Naglakad ako sa daanang lagi kong dinadaanan galing sa skwela. Onting lakad nalang at makakarating na ako sa LRT na maghahatid sakin sa aking tahanan. "Ayaw ko pa umuwi, napaka-aga pa" sabi ko sa sarili ko. Habang naglalakad ay madaming nadadaanang tindahan ng yosi at kendi. Napakapait ng aking panlasa, dahil sa ilang oras na pananahimik sa klase at sa jeep.
Sa huling tindahan na nadaanan ay nakumbinsi ko ang sarili ko na bumili ng kendi. Paghablot ng kendi at pag abot ng bayad ko ay napansin ko ang isang nakalawit na stick ng yosi. Napaisip ako, "ano ngabang meron dito at andaming nahuhumaling dito?",sabay balik tanaw sa mga concert na napuntahan ko. "Pati na nga po nito",pakaba kong sabi sa tindera habang tinututok ang aking hintuturo sa sigarilyo. Kinakabahan na nilagay sa aking mga labi. Baka kasi may makakita saikin at isumbong ako. Inipit ko ito sa aking labi at sinubukang lasahan ang dulo ng upos. Habang nilalasahan ko ito ay sabay abot sakin ng nagbabagang lighter ng tindera.
Hindi ako marunong magsigarilyo noon,pero alam ko kung pano magsindi dahil naninigarilyo ang lolo, lola at tito ko noon. Sa pagtapat ng apoy say sabay hithit ng malalim. Umalab na ang yosi at nagpatuloy akong naglakad. "hit-hit buga" ang stilo ko noon. Kasabay nang mababaw na pag hithit ay ang pasabog na buga ng sigarilyo. Paulit ulit kong ginawa ang ganun, hanggang maubos ang stik. Bumili pa ako ng yosi at patuloy na ginawa ang hithit-buga. Nagaastang marunong habang nadadaanan ang mga matatandang naninigarilyo din.Feeling ko, astig ako nun, muka pala akong t@nga.
Dumaan na ang buwan, di parin nasagot ang aking tanong na kung bakit nakakawili ang yosi. Pagkatapos ng tanghaliaan ay lumayo ako sa aking barkada. Bumili uli ako ng yosi at kendi. Ipinuwesto muna ang kendi sa aking dila habang biglang lumabas na isip ko ang napanood ko sa laban ni Packman at El Terible. " TING!! round 2!"
Ganun uli ang nangyari, hithit-buga, hanggang mapansin ako ng isa kong barkada. " HAHAHA! nagyoyosi ka na rin?". Sinagot ko lang siya ng isang ngiti. " Hindi ganyan! Ganito oh!" sabay hingi sakin ng aking yosi. "Hithit, tapos hithit uli, para diretso ang usok". Tinignan ko sya habang humithit. "O diba, diretso?". "Saka wala kang mararamdaman pag dyan lng" lanuang dagdag. Ginaya ko ang kanyang ehemplo na may halong onting ubo pa. Naramdaman kong nahihilo na ako, ubos na pala ang yosi ko.
Pagkatapos nun ay naging pampalipas oras ko na yun. Magulo sa pakiramdam. Nakakahilo pero gusto mo pa. Alam mong nakakamatay pero sige pa rin. Pangporma o pang-alis ng problema, sige pa rin ang asta. PArang pag-ibig, namamatay kana, pero tuloy parin sa paghithit sa kasinungalingang dala niya. Masarap pero masakit, nakakahilo pero masarap sa pakiramdam. Ang pag-ibig ay parang yosi na panghabang buahy kong hihithitin.
-end-
from the author:
i pretty much happy and proud about this work of mine. It did not won any awards or something but the praises i got from the oldies was already great <!-- s:D --><img src="{SMILIES_PATH}/icon_biggrin.gif" alt=":D" title="Very Happy" /><!-- s:D -->
here's the link:
[url]http://www.rakista.com/v1/viewtopic.php?t=14506[/url]
by tranquildarkness (me)
Isang ordinaryong araw noon. Oras na ng aking uwian. Naglakad ako sa daanang lagi kong dinadaanan galing sa skwela. Onting lakad nalang at makakarating na ako sa LRT na maghahatid sakin sa aking tahanan. "Ayaw ko pa umuwi, napaka-aga pa" sabi ko sa sarili ko. Habang naglalakad ay madaming nadadaanang tindahan ng yosi at kendi. Napakapait ng aking panlasa, dahil sa ilang oras na pananahimik sa klase at sa jeep.
Sa huling tindahan na nadaanan ay nakumbinsi ko ang sarili ko na bumili ng kendi. Paghablot ng kendi at pag abot ng bayad ko ay napansin ko ang isang nakalawit na stick ng yosi. Napaisip ako, "ano ngabang meron dito at andaming nahuhumaling dito?",sabay balik tanaw sa mga concert na napuntahan ko. "Pati na nga po nito",pakaba kong sabi sa tindera habang tinututok ang aking hintuturo sa sigarilyo. Kinakabahan na nilagay sa aking mga labi. Baka kasi may makakita saikin at isumbong ako. Inipit ko ito sa aking labi at sinubukang lasahan ang dulo ng upos. Habang nilalasahan ko ito ay sabay abot sakin ng nagbabagang lighter ng tindera.
Hindi ako marunong magsigarilyo noon,pero alam ko kung pano magsindi dahil naninigarilyo ang lolo, lola at tito ko noon. Sa pagtapat ng apoy say sabay hithit ng malalim. Umalab na ang yosi at nagpatuloy akong naglakad. "hit-hit buga" ang stilo ko noon. Kasabay nang mababaw na pag hithit ay ang pasabog na buga ng sigarilyo. Paulit ulit kong ginawa ang ganun, hanggang maubos ang stik. Bumili pa ako ng yosi at patuloy na ginawa ang hithit-buga. Nagaastang marunong habang nadadaanan ang mga matatandang naninigarilyo din.Feeling ko, astig ako nun, muka pala akong t@nga.
Dumaan na ang buwan, di parin nasagot ang aking tanong na kung bakit nakakawili ang yosi. Pagkatapos ng tanghaliaan ay lumayo ako sa aking barkada. Bumili uli ako ng yosi at kendi. Ipinuwesto muna ang kendi sa aking dila habang biglang lumabas na isip ko ang napanood ko sa laban ni Packman at El Terible. " TING!! round 2!"
Ganun uli ang nangyari, hithit-buga, hanggang mapansin ako ng isa kong barkada. " HAHAHA! nagyoyosi ka na rin?". Sinagot ko lang siya ng isang ngiti. " Hindi ganyan! Ganito oh!" sabay hingi sakin ng aking yosi. "Hithit, tapos hithit uli, para diretso ang usok". Tinignan ko sya habang humithit. "O diba, diretso?". "Saka wala kang mararamdaman pag dyan lng" lanuang dagdag. Ginaya ko ang kanyang ehemplo na may halong onting ubo pa. Naramdaman kong nahihilo na ako, ubos na pala ang yosi ko.
Pagkatapos nun ay naging pampalipas oras ko na yun. Magulo sa pakiramdam. Nakakahilo pero gusto mo pa. Alam mong nakakamatay pero sige pa rin. Pangporma o pang-alis ng problema, sige pa rin ang asta. PArang pag-ibig, namamatay kana, pero tuloy parin sa paghithit sa kasinungalingang dala niya. Masarap pero masakit, nakakahilo pero masarap sa pakiramdam. Ang pag-ibig ay parang yosi na panghabang buahy kong hihithitin.
-end-
from the author:
i pretty much happy and proud about this work of mine. It did not won any awards or something but the praises i got from the oldies was already great <!-- s:D --><img src="{SMILIES_PATH}/icon_biggrin.gif" alt=":D" title="Very Happy" /><!-- s:D -->
here's the link:
[url]http://www.rakista.com/v1/viewtopic.php?t=14506[/url]
hahaha nice... ayos sa effort ha..
SAVE THE WORLD FROM GRAVITY
IM YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE WAHAHAHAHHA
IM YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE WAHAHAHAHHA
behind the feathers
Chirp,chirp,chirp,the little bird sings.she is the center of the crowd day and night,entertaining the guests watching her.She soothes them with her harmonious melodies.She pleases anyone who lays their eyes on her.But the bird isn't as jubilant as her music .Little do they notice ,the chirping singer has deep secret s behind her voice.To pretend she has,pretending she was.
Chirp,chirp,chirp,the little bird sings.After the approvals she receives from her master ,all the grooming and pampering,the flightlessone is still unhappy.She's trapped by bars thicker than her legs.She could only view the horizon from afar.She could only enjoy the breeze gushing to her cage.She's limited to her four sided dungeonwith only her hymns for hope.She was hoping that her songs would send her prayers to God.To hope she needs,hoping she did.
Chirp,chirp,chirp,the little bird sings.Her feather are as vibrant as kaleidoscopes,but her eyes are dull as rainy days.Her minds are occupied by deep thoughts of how it would be like to be free again.Free with her own flock,the place she calls home.This cage isn't home for her.Lonesome she is,longing she tweets.
Chirp,chirp,chirp,the little bird sings.The feathered creature was blithe before she was boxed in.Shw ca spread her wings as wide as she can and flew everywhere.She mingled with her fellow birds in the friendliest manner.Reminiscing these days ,emotions came bursting in.Missing those days when the sky was the limit rather than the ceiling of her jail.Finding ways she could escape but there is none.Misery is coming,misarable she is becoming.
Chirp,chirp,chirp,the little bird sings.She is alone and she began to sing,a sorrowful one this time and not like her merry ones for her audience.Then,she remembers that there was still hope.Misery loves company but the will of God is beside her.She maybe a loner but she doesn't have to be lonely.Theres still the love of her owner and her admirers.Her tears dry and she continued with joyful humming.NO more pretending this time.Chirp,chirp,chirp,she's finally happy..
wooohhhoooohooo..
meeeeee...(badid)
Chirp,chirp,chirp,the little bird sings.she is the center of the crowd day and night,entertaining the guests watching her.She soothes them with her harmonious melodies.She pleases anyone who lays their eyes on her.But the bird isn't as jubilant as her music .Little do they notice ,the chirping singer has deep secret s behind her voice.To pretend she has,pretending she was.
Chirp,chirp,chirp,the little bird sings.After the approvals she receives from her master ,all the grooming and pampering,the flightlessone is still unhappy.She's trapped by bars thicker than her legs.She could only view the horizon from afar.She could only enjoy the breeze gushing to her cage.She's limited to her four sided dungeonwith only her hymns for hope.She was hoping that her songs would send her prayers to God.To hope she needs,hoping she did.
Chirp,chirp,chirp,the little bird sings.Her feather are as vibrant as kaleidoscopes,but her eyes are dull as rainy days.Her minds are occupied by deep thoughts of how it would be like to be free again.Free with her own flock,the place she calls home.This cage isn't home for her.Lonesome she is,longing she tweets.
Chirp,chirp,chirp,the little bird sings.The feathered creature was blithe before she was boxed in.Shw ca spread her wings as wide as she can and flew everywhere.She mingled with her fellow birds in the friendliest manner.Reminiscing these days ,emotions came bursting in.Missing those days when the sky was the limit rather than the ceiling of her jail.Finding ways she could escape but there is none.Misery is coming,misarable she is becoming.
Chirp,chirp,chirp,the little bird sings.She is alone and she began to sing,a sorrowful one this time and not like her merry ones for her audience.Then,she remembers that there was still hope.Misery loves company but the will of God is beside her.She maybe a loner but she doesn't have to be lonely.Theres still the love of her owner and her admirers.Her tears dry and she continued with joyful humming.NO more pretending this time.Chirp,chirp,chirp,she's finally happy..
wooohhhoooohooo..
meeeeee...(badid)
Last update on October 27, 2010 10:20 pm by brook.
Io il NON si PREOCCUPA DEL SUO VIAGGIO! QUESTO E IL MIO VIAGGIO!
isang madaling araw. naghahanda na sa pagpasok ang kaibigan ko na galing sa inuman.
pupungas-pungas pa sya. halos ayaw tumayo sa lakas ng hang-over. nanggaling din kasi ng coffee party pag-kagaling sa inuman ng tropa.
kinuha nya yung celphone para i-check kung may nag txt na sa kanya. wala. pinatay nya yung t.v. naiwan kasing bukas habang nanonood sya ng porno movies. ah. nakalimutan din pala nyang naka-on yung pc nya. peste! (sabi nya) may ka-chat pala kong chicks din kagabi.
pumunta na sya sa banyo. sabay na ligo na. pagkatapos maligo. nag sipilyo na sya.
habang nag sisipilyo sya may naaninag sya na parang itim na anino sa may salamin.
pumikit sya. pagdilat nya andun pa din yung anino. sabay nagdasal sya ng hail mary!
sabi nya; hail mary full of grace.... biglang sumagot yung anino. the lord is with you.
simula nun. di na sya nag sipilyo dun sa banyo nila.. lagi na lang sa kusina..
moral of the story. wag dumaan sa coffee party pagkagaling ng inuman. baka may sumamang kaluluwa. ahehehe
pupungas-pungas pa sya. halos ayaw tumayo sa lakas ng hang-over. nanggaling din kasi ng coffee party pag-kagaling sa inuman ng tropa.
kinuha nya yung celphone para i-check kung may nag txt na sa kanya. wala. pinatay nya yung t.v. naiwan kasing bukas habang nanonood sya ng porno movies. ah. nakalimutan din pala nyang naka-on yung pc nya. peste! (sabi nya) may ka-chat pala kong chicks din kagabi.
pumunta na sya sa banyo. sabay na ligo na. pagkatapos maligo. nag sipilyo na sya.
habang nag sisipilyo sya may naaninag sya na parang itim na anino sa may salamin.
pumikit sya. pagdilat nya andun pa din yung anino. sabay nagdasal sya ng hail mary!
sabi nya; hail mary full of grace.... biglang sumagot yung anino. the lord is with you.
simula nun. di na sya nag sipilyo dun sa banyo nila.. lagi na lang sa kusina..
moral of the story. wag dumaan sa coffee party pagkagaling ng inuman. baka may sumamang kaluluwa. ahehehe
i don't know you man.
HAHA ! NICE, COOL AHH. DAMN.
"Enjoy life. There's plenty of time to be dead."
ICE said...
[short story] ang usok na'to at ang pagibig mo (part 1)
by tranquildarkness (me)
Isang ordinaryong araw noon. Oras na ng aking uwian. Naglakad ako sa daanang lagi kong dinadaanan galing sa skwela. Onting lakad nalang at makakarating na ako sa LRT na maghahatid sakin sa aking tahanan. "Ayaw ko pa umuwi, napaka-aga pa" sabi ko sa sarili ko. Habang naglalakad ay madaming nadadaanang tindahan ng yosi at kendi. Napakapait ng aking panlasa, dahil sa ilang oras na pananahimik sa klase at sa jeep.
Sa huling tindahan na nadaanan ay nakumbinsi ko ang sarili ko na bumili ng kendi. Paghablot ng kendi at pag abot ng bayad ko ay napansin ko ang isang nakalawit na stick ng yosi. Napaisip ako, "ano ngabang meron dito at andaming nahuhumaling dito?",sabay balik tanaw sa mga concert na napuntahan ko. "Pati na nga po nito",pakaba kong sabi sa tindera habang tinututok ang aking hintuturo sa sigarilyo. Kinakabahan na nilagay sa aking mga labi. Baka kasi may makakita saikin at isumbong ako. Inipit ko ito sa aking labi at sinubukang lasahan ang dulo ng upos. Habang nilalasahan ko ito ay sabay abot sakin ng nagbabagang lighter ng tindera.
Hindi ako marunong magsigarilyo noon,pero alam ko kung pano magsindi dahil naninigarilyo ang lolo, lola at tito ko noon. Sa pagtapat ng apoy say sabay hithit ng malalim. Umalab na ang yosi at nagpatuloy akong naglakad. "hit-hit buga" ang stilo ko noon. Kasabay nang mababaw na pag hithit ay ang pasabog na buga ng sigarilyo. Paulit ulit kong ginawa ang ganun, hanggang maubos ang stik. Bumili pa ako ng yosi at patuloy na ginawa ang hithit-buga. Nagaastang marunong habang nadadaanan ang mga matatandang naninigarilyo din.Feeling ko, astig ako nun, muka pala akong t@nga.
Dumaan na ang buwan, di parin nasagot ang aking tanong na kung bakit nakakawili ang yosi. Pagkatapos ng tanghaliaan ay lumayo ako sa aking barkada. Bumili uli ako ng yosi at kendi. Ipinuwesto muna ang kendi sa aking dila habang biglang lumabas na isip ko ang napanood ko sa laban ni Packman at El Terible. " TING!! round 2!"
Ganun uli ang nangyari, hithit-buga, hanggang mapansin ako ng isa kong barkada. " HAHAHA! nagyoyosi ka na rin?". Sinagot ko lang siya ng isang ngiti. " Hindi ganyan! Ganito oh!" sabay hingi sakin ng aking yosi. "Hithit, tapos hithit uli, para diretso ang usok". Tinignan ko sya habang humithit. "O diba, diretso?". "Saka wala kang mararamdaman pag dyan lng" lanuang dagdag. Ginaya ko ang kanyang ehemplo na may halong onting ubo pa. Naramdaman kong nahihilo na ako, ubos na pala ang yosi ko.
Pagkatapos nun ay naging pampalipas oras ko na yun. Magulo sa pakiramdam. Nakakahilo pero gusto mo pa. Alam mong nakakamatay pero sige pa rin. Pangporma o pang-alis ng problema, sige pa rin ang asta. PArang pag-ibig, namamatay kana, pero tuloy parin sa paghithit sa kasinungalingang dala niya. Masarap pero masakit, nakakahilo pero masarap sa pakiramdam. Ang pag-ibig ay parang yosi na panghabang buahy kong hihithitin.
-end-
from the author:
i pretty much happy and proud about this work of mine. It did not won any awards or something but the praises i got from the oldies was already great <!-- s
--><img src="{SMILIES_PATH}/icon_biggrin.gif" alt="" title="Very Happy" /><!-- s -->here's the link:
[url]http://www.rakista.com/v1/viewtopic.php?t=14506[/url]
astig.
hate hate hate
Teka mamaya pag uwi ko susubukan ko mag post d2 !! papa kuluin ko lang ang sabaw sa aking naninilaw at inaamag na utak
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