It has become a habit for me and Rio to jot down random thoughts that show either how cool our thought processes can be or just how lame we really are underneath our well-guarded facades (Usually, it’s the latter.). The Overlord has permitted joined us in this week’s compilation of random thoughts and weird conversations with the self and more preferably, with another person. So, here goes…
Thoughts are pretty much like falling stars; they occur almost always randomly, they are there then they aren’t, and most people think there is some measure of wonder in them. The fleetingness of random thoughts is where its magic holds, I think, and for that reason Rica and I have resolved to record some of our random thoughts. It may be so we can alleviate some of the boredom (meaning we’re attempting to convince ourselves that our lives are not boring in our heads at least), so we can put some seemingly pointless thoughts in order to find some sort of pattern in our mental processes, or maybe it’s so we can try to invent a sort of magic for ourselves. At any rate, we’ve collected our random thoughts for the week (the ones we could catch) and posted them here.
i never really knew her. she was just one of my many faceless classmates. all of our conversations were limited to heys and nods, except for that one time when i stayed in school to work on something for design class long after everybody else went home.
she was a member of the volleyball varsity. their practice had just finished and she was still towelling off some sweat from her face when she walked into the classroom. her seat was a couple of rows behind mine. after a few minutes spent in silence, she sat down beside me and started talking.
FICTION Posted by Mai
It was a dream, but it didn’t feel like a dream.
She found herself walking a path that seemed like it stretched out to forever, but didn’t feel like forever, yet it promised forever; the candy-clouds of the sky and the emerald blades of grass softening the edges of the gravel road and making the journey pleasant.
The whole scenery was like one of the images usually found on Korean stationery, or on Japanese candy wrappers; cloyingly sweet but not quite tastefully done.
For a fleeting moment, she felt loved.
The path ended at the foot of a stone staircase, leading to a small house. The girl gingerly placed a small foot onto one of the stone steps, and her other foot followed suit. more…
FICTION by Rica
Book signing. Queue. Bookworms with my work in hand.
One smiling face approached me.
“You always sign with a red marker.”
“It’s my lucky charm.” I wink.
Besides, it’s easier to refill with red “ink”.
“Oh, it dries out easily.”
I take a snapshot of him beaming; he smiles even wider.
I smile back, take out my pad, and jot down notes.
Another bestseller on the way.
FICTION by Rica
That’s what you get for mocking me.
He insulted me with a genuine smile at my book signing.
But nobody’s smiled after reading me, ever.
Slit throat, gunshot, fall from an 8th floor balcony.
Only deepest hatred appears in my work.
But Nero smiled.
Now I smile genuinely, ogling police in and out of 23 New York, Cubao.
FICTION posted by Rica
She sits down, grabs pen and paper, reviews notes, pics about her plot.
Nero.
Wide smile.
Lips sewn together with red marker.
23 New York, Cubao.
Red gate.
Noose?
Hit-and-run.
Hm.
Asphyxiation.
Yes.
Gouged eyes.
Perfect.
She wipes the pen, starts writing another suspense novel as she throws away a blood-stained rag.
FICTION posted by Rio
I love you, said the SMS. My heart would have gone haywire right there and then, but I bit my lip and replied, “WTF. Wrong send, dude.”
“Ooooops! I’m sorry!” you quickly texted back.
I had been writing when my phone beeped, and when I turned back to what I was doing, I suddenly had a numbing feeling. “Fuck,” I spat at the half filled page.
I fumbled with my cigarette case. I stared at my half finished work as smoke swirled in front of the monitor and I reminded myself of my deadlines. Maybe I should start turning off my phone when I’m working. By the time I finished two cigarettes, I decided that it was hopeless. Both my assignment for the day and you.
more…
FICTION posted by Rio
Alam mo, naka mahigit sampung ulit na ata ako sa pagsusulat nito. Dun sa isang sulat, namutaktak ng salitang tanga. Dun naman sa isa, puro bwiset.
Bakit nga ba kita naisipang sulatan? Naalala lang kita at naisip kong marami-rami na rin akong naipong mga sasabihin sa’yo. At dahil hinding-hindi mo ‘to maririnig sa kin out loud, idadaan ko na lang sa sulat na walang address.
Tapang no? Pagdating sa mga bagay na to, duwag din ako no. Nagawa ko na naman dati ang emotional suicide at dahil alam kong di masaya yun–kung maiiwasan–iiwasan ko na talaga. Kaya eto, sisimulan at tatapusin ko na tong katangahang ito sa sulat na to.
Alam mo, pag naiisip kita at emotional suicide sa iisang sentence, natatawa ako. Kasi naman, para akong nabudol budol. Nananahimik ako (malamang, ikaw din), tapos boom! Napagtripan nanaman ako ni Miss Cosmos. Hindi ko alam kung pano at kung kelan nangyari, pero andun yung matinding feeling na ninakawan mo ako. Isama mo na din yung feeling na ang tanga-tanga ko. more…
FICTION posted by Karl
I spent the better part of the day looking for musical frog parts. All I really needed to complete the last LeGrand high gynerator was a lyric spleen, but it never hurts to have an ample stock of extra highstrings and xylobones. Allen would have been proud of me had he been there to see me expertly pluck each usable part from every frogthing I caught.
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