ABOUT THE COVER Midnight stories are dictated by the thoughts of the mind. It can create realistic creatures, fed by anxieties, or existent because of our long-lived desires. It is in the power of our hands on how we can create a beautiful opus or an Achilles’ heel out of our fears and fantasies. But one must be mindful that creatures summoned by the tick of the midnight clock must wane by the rise of the sun. For these disdain beings must be contained in the bulb of your room, made to enlighten one’s dreary soul. Once you escort them to the realm of daylight outside your room, they gain the power to manipulate your thoughts.
EDITOR’S NOTE:
It is when the clock strikes at midnight that our minds wander with different imaginations running through our heads. Fears and fantasies - they creep inside and linger in our thoughts either making us shiver in fear or floating on cloud nine. As you close your eyes, they enter in your dreams - clashing with each other creating ecstasy or agony. These fears and fantasies make our lives more interesting and challenging to dwell in. With all our efforts, we are proud to present to you the continuation of TALAAN -the official literary folio of The Appraiser with its lastest issue for this second semester. This literary folio is a compilation of the literary pieces of the staff itself and the CBEMian’s. In addition, it also features original artworks and photographs which are done by our very own staffers. We would like to thank all of the students who participated in our 4th Literary Competition with its theme: Midnight Stories: Revelations of Fears and Fantasies, last August 18, 2017. It is not always about winning but rather in trying your best and taking chances in sharing your stories through writing. We, together with the judges, have enjoyed reading your literary works. Keep expressing your thoughts. Keep writing! Congratulations to all the winners! We all have different stories to tell. Write your own story. Hazel Grace M. Sodsod Editor-in-Chief Photograph by Aliza Osma Book cover design and words by Charmane Macasinag
TALAAN
Midnight Stories: Revelation of Fears and Fantasies
TALAAN: The Official literary folio of BUCBEM Copyright © 2017-2018 The Appraiser The Official Student Publication of Bicol University College of Business, Economics, and Management Daraga, Albay www.facebook.com/TheAppraiserOnline Member of the College Editor’s Guild of the Philippines ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. All materials contained in this annual publication belong to their respective authors and artists. No material may be reproduced and/or copied in any form without permission of the copyright holders. Design and layout by Charmane Macasinag Sarprint Enterprises & Printshop Purok 7, Bagtang, Maroroy, Daraga, Albay
“The time has come anew, a time to summon our disdain creatures” -CJBM
FADED So there she was at her tiny white room, sulking, lost in thoughts as she is trying scrupulously to comprehend her situation. The clock hits twelve as she shivers from the cold wind that touched her skin. She looked around from her bet to the untouched food and medicine on the bed side table, eyes trailing to the door that kept shut forever, or so it seems. “Keep it together, Amanda.” She said breaking deafening silence engulfing her. Around the corner, she saw someone coming. “Loosen up, Amanda. It’s late already. Why don’t you sleep?” She looked at him. His eyes smiling as he sat beside her. By he looks of it his smile looks radiant just like before. He is the only person who stays with her, shares wonderful moments, and listens to her problems. He is the only person whom she trusts. “This is my kind of sleep, Ethan.” His smile slowly fades as it turned into worry. From this moment she knows there’s something wrong. She’s haunted by it every night and the only person she’s clinging into was Ethan. “Do you want to help me?” she inquired. “Yes, of course. How can I help you?” “Help me forget.” His laugh booms around the room. “That’s hilarious, Amanda. Forgetting is one of the hardest things to do. First, you need to move on. Then, you have to let go. More importantly, you have to accept it.” After he said those words, tears streamed silently on her face. “How? I can’t just simply throw the memories away. I can’t help but think of it every night. I can’t help but think of it every night. I can’t take it anymore.” He approached her and gently hugged her. “Hush now. It pains me to see you cry.” Her hand grasped at the hem of his shirt as she looked at him with eyes pleading for something. “Stay. Please stay for me. I don’t want to lose you.” “I will. I will never leave you. I will always be by your side, Amanda.” He looked at her with conviction, full of sincerity, telling her the truth she’s dreading to hear. However, what she thinks of the truth is only a painful lie. She knew it. She knew the truth. Only that she’s afraid to accept it. She’s afraid because she loves him. She loved Ethan, on how she thinks her perfect dream guy in her own little world. “But you already did.” She said. He looked at her with confusion. Then his body starts to fade away from his arms and legs. She tried to get a hold of him but it’s too late. “W-what—Amanda?” That very truth that she hates the most is to be in love with the man she badly wants to forget. The man she created from her memory. An illusory man that she dearly love. “You can’t love me back, Ethan.” She looked at his face. “I just made you up.” Photograph by Aliza Osma Edited by Charmane Macasinag Models : Danica Denice Epino Angelo Bien
Words by: Sheena B. Echague 1st Place Flash Fiction
“Next Time”? Oh, Honey, You Got it Wrong “Oh good, you’re finally awake.” “Hello. Uh, who are you?” “Me? Oh, I’m Death. Sorry, I left the cloak at my office. Got to pick you up in a rush. I’ve been closely observing you these past few days, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it. And at midnight, of all times! It’s the time when souls flood out the most on the astral plane, our own kind of rush hour. So if mortals would stop dying at the stroke of midnight, that’d be great.” “Um, okay? I’ll keep it in mind next time.” “Next time? You’re over, dear. You’re dead. No more next times for ya.” “How did I die?” “Um, you pulled the trigger and shot your head. Lots of blood. And oh, I had to feed your dog before I whisked you outta there. Poor mutt was hungry since morning. I know you’re depressed and all, but what did the dog do to you to deserve that?” “Oh God, I didn’t think about that.” “Too late, honey. He’s now taken to shelter, and he’ll never understand why he won’t see you again. And your mom? When she found out you killed yourself, she cried in hysterics. She kept repeating how she loved you and how sorry she was. But of course, you wouldn’t hear that.” “And my dad?” “He was abroad, right? Good news, he was scheduled to fly home next week. His contract had ended and he’d be staying with you for good. And that new phone you asked him for? Yup, it’s in his luggage. He’s so excited to see you—but imagine what kind of surprise that’s waiting for him instead. In a few years, your parents will file a divorce because they will keep blaming each other for your death. Your dad will remarry a woman who’d only leech his money and your mom will spend her last years alone in a hospice.” “Oh gosh...” “Gosh is right. Your best friend finally made contact too. You’ve been on bad terms with her for not keeping in touch with you, right? She’s got it rough too, buddy, she’s working hard to support her younger siblings.
Recently, she earned just enough money to travel to your place. Too bad you’d no longer earn the closure you needed.” “What about my boyfriend?” “Him? Ah, he’s been blaming himself since he found out. He’s so unfocused that he’ll be run over by a truck in...oh, thirty minutes? He’ll leave behind a family who’s waiting for him to graduate with outstanding honors.” “...What?” “Which reminds me, remember that nice old woman next door? Unfortunately, she’d die an earlier death because you would no longer be there to help her cross the street a few months from now. Also, I heard from the higher-ups that you were supposed to influence a lot of people with a book you wrote, but I guess that manuscript will no longer exist, eh?” “This is...this is unfair.” “What is? Oops, time’s up. Sorry, cupcake, looks like I have another soul to pick up. Let’s chat some more later, that alright?” “Who’re you fetching now?” “Let’s see...ah, your little brother. Did you know he killed himself because you’re the last ally he has and now you’re gone? Who’s gonna protect him from all those bullies now? Who’s gonna stay by his bedside to protect him from boogey monsters and space aliens as he slept at night?” “No way...” “Yes way. Whoa, what’s with the sad face? Look, you should’ve thought of the many lives you’ll destroy before you bade the world an untimely goodbye. It’s not only your life you’re ending, but many others, too. But, oh well, such is human tragedy. Anyway, I gotta go. Time’s ticking.” “Wait, I can’t accept this! Please, bring me back!” “Oh honey, remember what I told you? No more next times for ya.”
Words by Vivienne Faye R. Naag 2nd place Flash Ficiton Art by Mikaela Elemos
Cold Air, Bare Feet I was walking to a boarding house I was staying in. Our calculus subject just ended and I was totally worn out. At least I get to have a good night’s rest when I get there. The streetlights were lined straight and they lit the sidewalks and the high way. The path was clear. I always walked alone everyday. It was uncomfortable at first. But after three years, I got used to it. Living apart from my parents, budgeting a weekly allowance, doing things all by yourself, it was sort of lonely. But I didn’t mind. The frigid wind blew as I was approaching the mango tree before the left turn of the pathway to my boarding house when suddenly I saw a strange looking kid. She was pale, her hair was long and black and her cheeks were hollow and thin. I think she was around seven. I sauntered towards the turn and saw that she wore her school uniform, white blouse, black skirt that reached above her knees, a black ribbon in between her collar. But it was odd because her feet were bare. I saw the look on her face. It was bleak as the night. Her eyes dilated so much that all I could see was black. I stepped back. Her eyes bore into mine. Hairs on my nape down to my spine rose up. And so did the ones on both arms. This was not good. As soon as she stepped towards me, I sprinted away. I ran so fast that I left my handkerchief but couldn’t care less. That kid was so damn creepy that I needed to get away. Thankfully, she didn’t follow. The morning after that, my friends and I were invited to a garden party. My blockmate’s parents just bought this land where there were a variety of trees planted everywhere. It was a majestic sunny day. The skies were blue, the birds chirped and the leaves swayed with the gentle breeze. Tables were scattered and clothed with minty greens and baby pinks and ten brassy tiffany chairs were placed on every table. Flower vases were placed on every center with blue tea roses in them. I saw my friends by the corner and waved at them. They welcomed me with a hug and complimented my lace pastel dress. We took tons of groufies and so did my blockmates. Some wore English garden party dresses and some wore vibrant flowery clothes. Everybody was having a great time, sipping champagne, laughing with friends, and eating finger foods. I felt a strong cold wind blow. Suddenly, I saw my blockmates quivering in fear. I looked to see what they were so scared of. It was the girl from yesterday. Her hair cascaded down to her waist, feet were bare, veins on her legs were conspicuously purple. Her face, sinister, eyes were dilated and her hands were covered with fresh red blood. She took a step towards them and they all dispersed in panic to run. And so did we. I saw them racing, their feet flying over stones and twigs, pushing one another. They sprinted across the vast land and dodged trees. Adrenaline coursed through our veins. We had no time to be tired. I could feel a thin layer of sweat forming at the nape of my neck down to my back. My breath came in short gasps but I pushed harder and went faster. Sadly, I was still a bit behind from my friends.
Dusk approached so fast and we were still running. The place turned colder. I gulped my saliva. She was near. Cold air bit my lungs. My breath formed clouds in the air. My friends ran through two mango trees that were beside each other. But as I ran through it, I fell. Why of all times? I sprang from the ground to run again and didn’t even bother to pick up my shoes. Who the hell needed shoes at a time like this anyway? I looked in front of me. It was her. I stepped back but my feet were nailed to the ground somehow. I tried to move them again but I just couldn’t. How did she run that fast from there to here?! She extended her arm forward and ushered towards me. Oh no. “Go away!” My breathing quickened, my heart was beating out of my chest. I was trembling along with my hands. My knees were so feeble and my fingertips were icy. “Stop this! I don’t even know you! Why are you doing this to me?!” My surroundings dimmed. It was so dark that I couldn’t make out the trees around me. But I could see her clearly. I couldn’t breathe anymore. It was like someone was squeezing my body. I aimed to scream again. But it was like someone was strangling me. Her hand was just inches away. The little girl grinned. Green and purple veins started appearing on her cheeks. Her lips became black and her eyes bore into mine. And then she touched me. I opened my eyes. Thank heavens it was all a dream. Sweat was formed from my forehead so I wiped it off with the sleeve of my shirt. I reached for my phone and checked the time. It was four in the morning. Sitting on my bed, I tried catching my breath. My whole body was drained. That was some nightmare. I’m sure I prayed before I went to sleep. I wonder why I dreamt that. I got off my bed and wore my slippers. I ambled towards the door to turn on the lights and went to get the crucifix and rosary from my shelf. But the before I could reach for it, they fell on the floor. What was going on? The light went out. The air turned frosty and my fingertips were icy. I looked to see behind me. Words by: Angelica Naz It was the girl...grinning at me. 3rd Place Flash Fiction
The Ten-Minute Miracle At 12:00 am today, I died and bade the world goodbye. At 11:59 pm five years ago, I set my sight upon my first grandchild. At 11:58 pm ten years ago, my daughter came home as a newlywed bride. At 11:57 pm fifteen years ago, I officially retired.
Words by 3rd Place Blackout Poetry
At 11:56 pm thirty years ago, I bought my own house and car. At 11:55 pm forty years ago, I cradled my first child in my arms. At 11:54 pm forty-five years ago, I found the love of my life. At 11:53 pm fifty years ago, I found my dream job and soared so high. At 11:52 pm fifty-five years ago, I glanced at my diploma with pride. I told myself that I made it, and then I cried. I’ve come so far now and you wouldn’t believe that At 11:51 pm sixty years ago, I almost snuffed out my life. Words by Vivienne Faye Naag 1st Place Poem Artwork by Mikay
Original Piece: I Don’t Miss It by Tracy K. Smith
What goes on in my head? The words start playing with themselves and I try to make sense of the nonsense occupying what little space there is left. It is so hard to explain what goes on, in, under, above, across when all I want is a projectile through this skull. Some nights, I’m as scared as you are. The noise louder than panicking sirens as I cower hoping it all stops before it’s too late, before the worst yet most relieving end. But sometimes I grow as numb as the people who think they know a goddamned thing when they don’t. THEY DON’T. 3 AM is for studying ways to make death look like an accident so I don’t hurt anyone else after the process. I cry my nonexistent heart and soul out like I never do in broad daylight while using neon highlighters to mark exes on my throat, my wrists, my chest, then put both blades out of reach. I try to memorize the places where I shouldn’t hurt myself. But I am already bleeding everywhere. I don’t want to hurt anyone else. No one wants scars around their hearts because the hurt doesn’t count unless you’re dressed up for death in a hospital gown so that everyone sees it, so that everyone fucking believes it.
Words by: Janelle Tanguin 2nd Place Poem
Photo by Aliza Osma
3AM I’m not stupid just sick. But, if life is a lesson I quit. I feel like fading ink gushing dry on my pile of unread books. And maybe all those record stores, libraries, museums, cafés, lighthouses and sunsets waiting for me won’t wait any longer when I’m gone. I don’t want to hurt anyone else. It’s 3 AM again, one day I really am going to lose it. But for the meantime, I am tired. I don’t know how long I could keep fighting this. I don’t want to hurt anyone else. It’s 3 AM again, and again and again I’m sinking. It’s 3 AM again, let the ghosts back in.
Ain’t That Enough My mind is unnatural like the superpowers of unknowns My land is breathing fire, humans will be bones Universe will be shocked if I whispered it to the moon Why can’t I see yet those flying black balloons?
Words by Diarist 3rd place Poem Illustration by: Mikay
Ghost words by Janelle Tanguin 1st Place Blackout Poetry
The world is full of monkeys with better brains inside It is full of hypocrisy and some useless insights The world is at war, on fire and in great misery I still can’t figure out, what do you call this kind of sorcery? Guns are the kings, fighting for one mighty throne Time is the enemy, lives are slaves ruthlessly thrown Blinded by hatred, peace they can’t find Puzzled by the question: Are they out of their minds? Raindrops are bombs, kites are helicopters Every movement awaits a bullet from snipers What if it’s unreal, a fantasy in your sleep perhaps Will you be just sitting and watch it til’ it stops? I can’t seek some positivity, my world is doomed Anger takes over, happiness is broomed I don’t have to make up stories for a good enough plot The world is in horror, ain’t that enough?
Original Piece used: The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe
Ate
Isinulat ni Esther Llanzana 1st Place Dagli
Mahigpit niyang hawak ang kanyang bolpen habang seryosong nagsusulat sa kanyang bagong kwadernong nabili. Masaya siya sapagkat mula ito sa kanyang tatlong linggong pagtititpid. “Pag-aralan ninyo ang mga natalakay na natin mula nung unang miting at bukas ay Midterms na ninyo,” natatandaan niya pang sabi ng kanilang propesor. Huminga siya ng malalim at binilang sa daliri kung ilang beses sila nagkaroon ng klase tungkol dito, hindi man lang ito umabot sa kanyang panlimang daliri. Napailing na lamang sya at nagpatuloy na sa pagsusulat at pagbabasa kasama ang isang gasera na siyang tanging nagbibigay ilaw sa kanilang lamesa. Kailangan kong pumasa, iyon ang tanging bagay na nasa isip nya dahil ilang buwan na lamang ay alam niyang makakapagsuot na siya ng toga. Kasabay ng paglalim ng gabi ay ang pagkadama niya ng pagod na unti-unti nang umaakyat sa kanyang sistema. Siya ay nag unat-unat, mariing ipinikit at idinilat ang mga mata at pilit na linabanan ang matinding antok. Sa di kalayuan, napatingin siya sa kanyang anim na kapatid na sobrang himbing sa kanilang pagkakatulog. “Para sa inyo ito”, bulong niya. Wala ang kaniyang nanay dahil sa Sabado pa ang uwi nito. Tuwing katapusan lang kasi ng linggo kung ito’y payagang makauwi ng amo. Kung kaya nya lang sanang patigilin na sa pagiging kasambahay ang kanyang ina ay matagal nya nang ginawa. Nagpatuloy siya sa kanyang ginagawa na di’ inaalintana ang mga lamok na kumakagat sa kanyang mga braso, paa’t binti at maging ang medyo kumukulo niya nang sikmura. Alam niyang malapit na siyang matapos, kaunti nalang. Makaraan ng ilang sandali ay tumindig na siya sa kanyang kinauupuan, kumuha ng isang basong tubig, uminom, at pinatay na ang ilaw. Pagkalapat ng kanyang likod sa kanilang banig na higaan ay tumingin siya sa kanilang munting orasan, “Alastres na pala.” Ngumiti sya ng bahagya at nagpasalamat sa Maykapal, kasabay ang pagpikit ng kanyang dalawang kanina pang nagsusumamong mga mata. Hindi pa tumatagal ang kanyang idlip, bigla na lang niyang narinig ang pag-iyak ng kanyang sanggol na kapatid. Napadilat siya.
Para CPA Babagsak, Aral pa rin. Titino na raw, Sabaw pa rin. Ilang kabanata pa lang Lutang na at sasabi Yo ko na, Ewan ko puro Reklamo pero babasa pa din. Napuyat dahil Gamit nang gamit ng selpon. Ang post sa peysbuk Gagradweyt pa man daw ako? Huhuhuhuhu Aral na tayo bes Marami rami pa talaga sila Surviving Ay ewan ko. Kapapasok pa lang ng room Ohh may gad Nandiyan na si Sir. Tahimik na dapat Abot abot ng exam Dali daling nagbasa Umabot man lang sana sa passing Ring ring, tapos na Yun pinasa na Aasang papasa.
Isinulat ni Miss Ledger 2nd Place Tula Photo by Aliza Osma
Alas onse bente nuebe na ng gabi at gising pa rin ako.
11:29
mula sa mga salita ni Miss Ledger 2nd Place Dagli Litrato ni Aliza Osma
Heto na naman, sulat nang sulat. Hindi ko na nga maintindihan kung bakit at para saan pa ang aking pagsusulat. Nakadalawang pahina na rin ang nasulat ko pero wala pa rin ako maintindihan. Sabay ng pagsulat ko ay pinilit kong ring makapagsaulo ng ilang terminolohiya. Hanggang siyam lang talaga ang kaya ng utak ko. Di ko na kaya. Binuksan ko naman itong pagkakapal-kapal na libro. Kasisimula ko pa lamang magbasa ay tinatamad na naman ako. Unang kabanata pa lang ako at sila’y nasa ika-labindalawa na. Ano na nga ba ang nangyayari sa akin? Lahat ng ito para sa kaisa-isang pagsusulit ko bukas. Nasa huling taon na ako ng aking kolehiyo sa unibersidad na ito ngunit parang di ko pa masasabing handa na akong makibaka sa nakaambang pagsubok pagkatapos nito. Bakit ko kaya nararanasan ito? Hindi naman ako ganito dati. Yun nga ata ang mahirap. Kapag nasanay na ay mahirap magbago o di kaya’y matagal tagal ang proseso para maka-ayon. Naiiyak na lamang ako paminsan. Hindi nga pala minsan, palagian ngunit hindi lang halata sa akin dahil ang tingin ng iba sa akin isang masayahing tao. Oo, masaya naman ako. Masayang masaya ako dahil ang kaligayahan ko ay hindi nakadepende sa mga materyal na bagay. Mayroong nagpapasaya sa akin ng sobra. Siya ang palaging karamay ko sa lungkot at ligaya. Siya ang nagbibigay ng mga kailangan ko. Siya yung palaging nagsasabi na huwag sumuko at kaya ko ito. Siya ang talagang nagmamahal sa akin. “Jeremiah, mahal na mahal kita.” Kinausap ko Siya. Dalawang pahina, siyam na terminolohiya, isang kabanata, at isang pagsusulit, Ako lamang ang nakakaalam ng mga panukalang inihahanda ko para sa ikabubuti ninyo, at para dulutan kayo ng pag-asa sa hinaharap. – Jeremiah 29:11
Movie Marathon
Words by JMA Blackout Poetry
Tug-dug tug-dug tug-dug, ang sigaw ng aking puso Kasabay ang kinakapos kong hininga At sa pagpatak ng aking dugo Sa madilim at walang hanggang kalsada. Sa di malamang dahilan, ako’y tumatakbo At sa paglingon ko sa likod, naaninag ko ay hugis tao May mahahabang buhok at nanlilisik na mga mata At bigla kong napansin ang kalmot sa aking paa. Ako’y lalong kinabahan at takbo’y mas binilisan Kahit katawan ko’y humahampas na sa kung saan-saan Maliwanag na maliwanag ang buong bakuran. At nang ako’y nakarating, siya’y biglang naglaho Walang bakas kung san pumunta ang sa aki’y humahabol Ni-hindi na mabakas kahit yung amoy nyang mabaho Kaya ako’y tumuloy at sa pintuan ay kumatok. Ako’y napasigaw ng napakalakas na ahhhh!!!! Nang ako’y pinagbuksan ng madreng matanda Na may nakakatakot at naaagnas nang mukha Ako’y biglang nakabangon mula sa pagkahiga. Bigla kong naalala si Valak at si Diana Mga karakter sa dalawang pelikula Na aking pinanuod bago mahimbing sa aking pagkakahiga.
Original Piece: O Captain! My Captain! by Walt Whitman
Isinulat ni: Jeco Añonuevo 1st place Dagli Debuho ni Mikay
Isang libo siyam na po’t limang araw, tatlong po’t anim na buwan Tatlong taon Nasan ka? Naroroon Away dito, away doon, kinasanayan taon taon Hindi madaling umibig sa tulad mo Masarap magmahal, minsan gago Naniwala sayo, layo ay ininda ko Taon ba’y madadagdagan pa o susuko kana mahal ko? Natutuong mangarap, kahit sabik sa halik mo’t mga yakap Batuhin man tayo ng pagsubok Pikit mata kong lalagpasan at lalabanan ang antok
Distansya
mula sa mga salita ni Christine Joy Arellano 3rd place Tula
Lumipas ang mga araw, ikaw ay nagbago Nanabik sa atensyon at nahati ang oras mo Kilos tila nakakapanibago Saan ako nagkulang at hindi ka nakontento Distansya ikaw ay binago Paano na akong ginawa kang mundo? Iyong pinunan mga patlang ko Sa isang idlap babawiin mo pala ito Iyong paniwalaan pagmamahal ko’y totoo Sana ito’y naparamdam ko Bawat oras araw-araw Umaasang hindi ka bibitaw Distansya ay hindi naging dahilan, Puso’y nais ka lang ipaglaban Mundo ko’y iyo at sayo lang umiibig Ngunit anong magagawa magulo ang aking paligid Kalungkutan saaki’y sumisilip Mahal kita hanggang sa panaginip. Ngunit kung hindi na talaga kaya Ako din ay hahakbang at lalayo na, Huling kahilingan, sana ako pa rin ay maalala. Isang hakbang papalayo, walang linaw na babalik ka, Ako sayong isipan ay malapit ng mabura Sa pagtatapos ng tula, Aking papawiin iyong mga luha Na sumasabay sa patak ng ulan At sumasabay pa sa aking kalungkutan Tatlong taon ay nahinto Mga pusong nasaktan at sumuko Sa paglipas ng panahon sana ay mapagtagpo
“IGNE NATURA, RENOVATOR INTEGRA” by: artemisiagold
In every midnight story, mental hospitals and asylums are scary because they are being haunted By confused patients, distraught individuals and earthbound ghosts. But don’t you know that it’s the “soul of a Hanna Baker” trapped in her own despair with no friends not enough to care to fix what’s beyond repair, leading to a life lost” is what we should fear the most. In every midnight story, there’s this girl, with a blonde-streak hair who changes her pronoun in every poem that she writes. Instead of saying, “I love HER, SHE makes me me happy” she writes “I love HIM, HE MAKES ME HAPPY.”
I know of this boy, who changes his pronoun in every song that he writes. Instead of singing, “I love HIM, HE makes me happy” he sings, “I love HER, SHE makes me happy.” WHAT A DREADFUL SOCIETY! I saw what you did there. You’re too anxious to let your gender be bare. Same-gender can’t even hold hands in public, without giving the hypocrites a slight panic. Just the weight of our judging glance; it makes you think that the world’s not giving you a chance. Why don’t we just let them wear the skeletons inside their closet, and let us have a colorful mindset (to avoid future regret.) Let us be the generation that embraces LESBIANS GAYS BISEXUALS TRANSGENDER in our nation. Let us be the generation that embraces love in any form, to makes this society a place that can withstand any adversity.
Photograph by Aliza Osma Model: Joshua Darr
Write your own story...
In a big white room, I saw her. She was lying down peacefully on the top of the bed with matching white-covered sheets and pillows – eyes shut down and body stiff. Tears fell down a little bit from my eyes, unsure of what I’m really feeling. I put my hands on her face – slowly caressed it and I felt her cold skin. I wrapped my hands around her lifeless body and whispered to her ear…
DEAR
MOM
by HGS
I started to become lazy because you are not appreciating my efforts and achievements. Even if I receive a lot of medals and certificates, it wouldn’t mean nothing if you don’t appreciate it. It’s for you mom. I just want you to tell me that you are proud of me and that I’m the best daughter in the world. But you never did. I am so hurt mom. I love you mom. They say be yourself but I never did when I’m around you. I’m a different person outside and at home. I pretend to be the daughter that you want me to be. I am your silly little robot whom you control. It feels like I have chains on my neck, choking the life out of me. I follow all your decisions even if clashes in surrendering my dreams. I just want you to realize that I’m not happy anymore. But you never did. I am so hurt mom.
“I’m sorry.” But she’s already dead. My mom’s already dead.
You told me that I love my friends over you because I rarely go home and we don’t even spend our time together. You told me that I should just stay at my friends’ house if I don’t want to go home anymore.
Even if I pray to God and to all the winged seraphs of heaven, I can’t take her life back. Losing her was my biggest fear. Death has already swung his scythe. He’s such a bitch sometimes, you know? You don’t really fucking know when he’s already eyeing at you.
Why are you like this mom? I’m sorry, I just find more comfort in my friends rather than you but I really do love you.
I love my mom. I really do. But there are so many times that she has hurt me. It made me keep secrets to her which I really shouldn’t but I did anyway because I just don’t want things to get worse. I love you mom but why didn’t you give me the words that I want to whenever I breakdown? Instead you told me that if I can’t hanthings, I should probably just kill myself. I am so lost mom. can’t even wander anymore. I don’t know what to do. I want you me up, hold me into your arms and tell me that it’s alright to be lost and find yourself. I want you to say that I can do it even if I stumble I’m taking upon.
artwork by Micaella Elemos
hear dle I to pick and still not know at the crooked path
But you never did. I am so hurt mom. I love you mom but you always compare me to other people and tell me that they are better than me. I always do my best in what I love. I do double or even triple efforts just to make you proud. Am I not enough? Aren’t you proud of me?
You asked me why I am not getting out of my bed and not talking to you. I told you that I’m tired but you still scolded me that I’m lazy. I wanted to shout that I didn’t deserve this life anymore but I kept silent. Why are you like this mom? I’m sorry, I just want to take a break from my life. You asked me if I loved you and if I wanted you as my mom. I was speechless. I do love you but words didn’t come out from my mouth. I want to punch myself that time because I really haven’t told you that I loved you. And the next day, you were gone. I hate you mom but I love you at the same time. You raised me up even though life is really tough. When I was young, you cradled me to sleep. You taught me how to walk, read, write, count, ride a bike, and look at the bright side of a wonderful world. You saved me a lot of times, protected and loved me. I just don’t know what happened to us. Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe it’s your fault. Maybe it’s both our fault. We lost communication as time passed by. We’ve hurt each other. Tears fell like waterfalls from my eyes. TIME OF DEATH: 12 AM, April 06, 2016
And mundo’y makulay Ngunit masalimoot Ito’y maligaya Subalit mapangutya Kung saan ang tama’t mali Ay magkahalintulad Kailangan mong maging Ikaw Ngunit ito ri’y mali Pagkat ika’y ma-iituring Makasarili at gahaman Lahat ng gawin ay para sa personal na ninanais Masipag ngunit Hangal Matalino ngunit Tamad Magkahiluntalad na Bulag Ang yung kaibigan ay karbal mo rin Mahal kang lubos Suballit lubos lamang sa malugod na Kagandahan Lugod mong tangap ang Magkamali Ngunit ito’y di kalugod-lugod sa iba Inilulubog ang nasa Laylayan Inaangat pang lubos ang nasa tuktok Kahiya-hiya ang kamalian Magaling ang kagalingan Yan ang tama ngunit mali Pagkat ang tunay ay linuluwal din ng kamalian Tunay ring ang kamalian ay liwanag tungong tama Ating ituri ang buhay bilang pagsusulit Kung saan sa dinadami man nang kamalian Tama pa rin ang inaaangat words by Danica Arganda
photo by Aliza Osma Edited by cjbm
Ang mali’t tama ay di magkaribal Sa halip ito’y Iisa Ngunit yang kaisipan ay para lamang sa Mulat Hindi sa bulag na nagbulag-bulagan
Maling Tama
Sampung Tagay tula ng isang martyr
Naaalala mo pa ba nung gabi na tayo’y magkasama Nagkakatuwaan tayo kasama ang ilang barkada Nagkwentuhan, nagiinuman, at tayo ay nagsaya Hindi ko inakalang iyon na pala ang simula. Unang tagay nung tumingin ka at ako ay nagtaka Pangalawang tagay nang napansin ko, pulutan ay may betsin pala Pangatlong tagay nung sinimulan mo na akong tanungin “Kaya ko pa!” sagot ko “Huwag mo kong maliitin”
Ako ay tumayo at lumabas sa ating kwarto Pilit inayos ang sarili ngunit utak ay nablanko. Lumabas ako at sumabay ulit sa ibang nagiinuman Tumagay ulit para makalimot sa sakit na napagdaanan. Pang walong tagay ng mapagtanto kong wala itong patutunguhan Alam kong mahal mo siya pero bakit mo ko pinapatulan. Pangsiyam na tagay nang magtaka sila kung bakit para akong naiiyak “Ayos lang ako! Ano ba kayo” sabi ko sabay hagalpak. Nais ko sanang ikaw ay kausapin para ako ay malinawan Kung gusto mo rin ba ako o sadyang lahat ng yun ay panandalian Ibinuhos ko ang lahat at ininom ang alak sa aking baso Sinabing ayoko ng magpakatanga at magpagamit saiyo.
Pang apat na tagay nang sabihin mong ako ay lasing na Nagiengles at nagiingay na raw ako sa harap nila Panglimang tagay ng magsimula akong magtanong sa sarili Ano nga ba ako saiyo? Panandaliang pagkakataon para ika’y mawili?
Pangsampu. Panghuli. Huling tagay na ginawa. Inamin sa sarili na may mali ring nagawa. Sa unang tagay ko palang nais ko sanang iyong sagutin, Bakit ako pa kung iba naman ang iyong pipiliin?
Pang anim na tagay ng ako ay nagiinit na Batid kong ako ay mahina at nalalasing na Pang pito nang sinabi kong yun na ang huli kong tagay “Pre, mauna na ako” sabay lakad ng pasuray-suray
Ilang araw na rin ang lumipas at tila ba’y wala lang ang lahat Nais ko sanang magtanong at lahat ng ito’y ipagtapat. Dahil nagsimula ang lahat ng madaling araw tayo naginuman, Sampung tagay na alay ko saiyo ang hindi ko makakalimutan.
Bigla kang tumayo at ako ay sinabayan “Hatid na kita pre” ang sabi mo at ika’y aking hinayaan Pagpasok sa ating kwarto, katawan ko na ay tumbado Maya-maya ay naramdaman ko nalang na ikaw pala’y nasa tabi ko. Nung una ay walang malisya na ikaw ay aking yinakap Laking gulat ko nalang ng sa kamay ko’y ika’y humawak Ilang taon na rin ang lumipas nang minsan tayong nagkaganito Ayoko na sanang maulit at pagsisihan ang pagkakamaling ito. Humigpit ang aking hawak gayon din ang iyong ginawa Labi ko ay idinampi, sa likod mo nagsimula Di malaman ang gagawin ng bigla kang humarap, Bigla ko kasing naalala na iba pala dapat ang iyong kayakap.
Litrato ni Aliza Osma
Impostor
Inilathala ni JM Atos
Gabing gabi na at hindi ko pa rin matapos tapos itong proyekto ko sa matematika. Napagdesisyonan kong magpahinga na dahil maaga pa ang pasok ko maya-maya. “Matulog ka na anak!” sigaw ni mama sa labas ng aking kwarto. “Opo ma! Matutulog na po.” sagot ko naman dito. Inayos ko na ang gamit ko at pinatay na ang ilaw. Humiga na ako sa kama katabi ang malambot kong unan. Mahimbing na akong natutulog ng bigla akong magising dahil sa ingay na narinig ko. Binuksan ko ang aking cellphone para oras ay malaman ko. “Alas tres ng umaga!?” iritang sabi ko “Saan ba galing yung ingay” Kumaluskos ang aking aparador na tila ba’y may nakakulong. Nagitla ako sa nangyari at nagtaka kung anong meron. Lakas luob akong tumayo at binuksan ang ilaw. Dahan-dahang akong lumapit. Sa bawat hakbang ko ay mas lumalakas ang tibok ng puso ko. Unti-unti kong binuksan ang aparador na nasa aking harapan. Pagtingin ko ay wala namang tao at puro damit ko lang ang laman. Nakahinga na ako nang maluwag at natatawang isinira ang aparador. Pinatay ko nalang ulit ang ilaw at bumalik na ako sa aking kama. Ipinikit ko ulit ang aking mga mata at yinakap ang unan saking tabi. Ako ay nagtaka kung bakit ito ay lumaki. Kinuha ko ulit ang aking cellphone para ito ay mailawan. Laking gulat ko nalang saaking nasilayan.
“Anak!? Anong nangyari? Ayos ka lang ba?” Sobra akong natuwa nang marinig ko ang boses ni mama. Di pa rin ako makapagsalita dahil nahihirapan pa rin akong huminga. Ngunit mas ikinabigla ko ang sumunod na nangyari. “Ma, may multo po sa ilalim ng kama ko. Natatakot po ako” May ibang nilalang na sumagot sa nanay ko. Tumindi ang kaba ko at naiiyak na sa pwedeng mangyari sa amin ni mama. Pilit akong sumigaw pero walang lumalabas na boses. Natatakot ako sa pwedeng gawin nito saaking nanay pero anong magagawa ko kung di ako makagalaw sa aking kinalalagyan. Kinuha ko ang aking cellphone at sinubukan siyang tawagan. Nagriring lang ito at batid kong di niya dala ang kanyang telepono. Nanalangin ako sa Diyos na sana’y tulungan niya ako. “Ano ka ba naman, anak. Ang laki-laki mo na naniniwala ka pa rin sa ganyan? Oh siya! Sisilipin ko kung meron nga” Pagsilip niya ay umiiyak akong nagsalita, “M-ma, hindi ako siya.A-ako ang totoo. Ma, natatakot po ako.” Bakas sa kanyang mukha ang gulat at takot. Batid kong kahit siya ay hindi alam ang susunod na gagawin sa sitwasyon namin. Inaabot niya ang kamay ko ng biglang tumunog ang aking cellphone. Pagbukas ko ay siyang ikinabigla ng pagkatao ko. “Anak, ano ba yan? Bakit ang ingay mo sa kwarto mo? Akala ko ba ay natutulog ka na? Pupuntahan kita dyan kapag di ka tumigil” Hindi ko na alam ang gagawin ko. Hawak na niya ang kamay ko. Eto ba ang totoo kong nanay o itong kausap ko ang totoo. “M-ma...” pabulong kong sinabi. “i-ingat ka” Pagharap ko sakanya ay nakangiti na ito. Namatay lahat ng ilaw kasabay ng pagsigaw ko.
Go To Sleep Dark, everything was dark, I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t feel anything, but I heard your voice calling out to me… it was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. Cold sweat ran to my face as I woke up, I looked at the clock, 3 o’clock am, “that dream again…”, as looked around my moon lit room, everything was normal… For 2 months now I’d been having the same dream, pure darkness and I hear her voice… her voice… as the sun rose I stood awake not sure of what to think of my dream, but I don’t have time for that now, my class starts at 7. I got up from my bed, not bothering to fix it, then I ran straight to the showers. The cold water ran to my face getting rid of any drowsiness that I felt, “who was calling me? That voice seemed so familiar, yet so unfamiliar…” I got out of the shower, put on my uniform and went to my dining area, ate a piece of toast and drank my coffee. The day went by like any other normal day but when I was going home I heard someone calling me, I froze in fear, I don’t know why I was so afraid, but I all that I know is that I WAS afraid. I looked around trying to see if someone that I know was calling me, but there was no one around, “ha… just my imagination” I said to myself, not knowing what horrors that is about to come… I live with my relatives year ago because of unknown reasuddenly disappear same time died. I loved my dad but I can’t thing to my mom, there was always with her, something not right. She always night and returns in the morning, I asked my it but he’ll always change the topic, and in nights that she won’t go out, she’ll stand in front of my bed room door mumbling something but I never really understand what she was saying, and after her constant mumbling she would hum this creepy yet soothing lullaby and I would always fall asleep short after…
now, my father died a sons and my mom that my father say the same something off goes out at dad about
When I came back home my aunt and uncle wasn’t around, understandable since they both have night shift on their jobs, so we only see each other early in the morning. I went straight to my room and start doing my homework, when I heard someone calling my name again, it was the same voice as last time, and this terrified me because I was alone. I stood up from my desk and ran down stairs looking around trying to make sense of it all when I heard a familiar song… I heard humming the same as my mothers, my eyes grew weary, I felt them getting heavy, I collapsed and as I slowly close my eyes I heard the humming getting louder and louder and before I close my eyes I saw someone’s feet, then I fell asleep… When I woke up I noticed that I was still in the house same place as where I collapsed, I looked around the house trying to see if anything was stolen but nothing was touched, everything was in place and nothing was moved, I went back to my room contemplating whether I should call my aunt and uncle or the cops, but when I walked up to my room I saw a note on my desk, “that wasn’t there before” I said to myself. As I picked up the note I trembled, shaken, shocked and any other word just to say I was terrified on what was written or rather what they used to write on the note. The note had been crudely written in bright crimson red, saying “go to sleep, because one day you’ll be a great sacrifice, like your father – Love Mom” I quickly went to the bathroom and threw up on the toilet, I quickly looked at the mirror trying to find if had any wounds… nothing except when I looked at my looked at my finger I noticed something… a tiny red dot, bitch pricked the tip of my finger and use my blood as ink. I sat at the edge of my bed trying to think on what the fuck was going on, then I realized, those dreams, the voice, it was her, It explained everything, as I grabbed I phone to call my aunt and uncle… heard the humming, her lullaby, I fought the urge but it was useless, and before I fell to darkness I heard her say “go to sleep”….
words by Joey Khristian artwork by Mikay
Believe me, I’m lying She’s walking, fast-paced, long strands, with her head turning to her left and right. The night seemed so silent like a drained phone, with no trace of life, deafening. Fluids touched her face, her hair, her arms. One, two, three droplets, making her wet little by little... the rain drops are just so slow. The same exact feeling she has. It just feel so long reaching home amidst her half-running steps. White moist smokes almost blinded her. With a shift move, she turned right only to see a white-dressed creature with bloodshot eyes, wearing a grin that doesn’t match her blood-covered face, instantly, a scream covered the neighborhood. “Aaaaaaah,” the people screamed almost in unison. “The ghost is so scary,” one of the audience stated panting. Ghosts. Just like your future foreseen by a fortune teller, the exact date of the end of the world and that your crush likes you too. Believed, but never been proven. Six-letter word everyone knows. They said some of this watch us as we sleep; as we know, there are times we just can’t fall asleep. They say they’re helping, other says they scared them. What do they really are? It was said that a person’s soul came back because of the desires, cravings and attachments they have during their life on Earth if not controlled and overcome, become their weak point in the afterlife. Scientifically, it was not explained either; from a door closing on its own, to missing keys, to a cold area in a hallway, to a vision of a dead relative. No one wants to see such things, I bet. But, when you want to see someone who already passed away, and probably talked to them, isn’t it great to wish that these so called ghosts really do exist? Resting my head on the chair’s back, feeling it’s softness and starring at the huge, dark, freezing room, possibilities suddenly crossed my mind. What would be my reaction if a person I longed for years appeared right in front of me? Would I be scared or would I hug the person, never letting go again. People usually say that we should not be sad whenever a loved one leave our sides because they’re just there watching over us. But if they really do watch the people they left, isn’t it hard for them to watch how sad and terrible people get from being left alone? Life is just simply ironic. How good people left so early and how bad ones stay that long. How people meet and eventually part and how people love and had a shattered heart. Moreover, life is simply in a concept of borrowing, to be taken back whenever wanted without any further consent.
If some souls have this chance to come back and take care of things unsettled, why would only few can? I wonder if there is a challenge to be faced for a soul to come back and maybe others didn’t pass such challenge since other souls came back and others don’t. Maybe they asked for it, or maybe they begged. Or they just simply cheated. Anyway, whenever a person sees a ghost, the initial reaction is to scream at the top of their lungs. Maybe because of a certain thought that they might hurt them. Maybe they recognize the person or, it’s just, simply scary. Crossing my arms on my chest and shifting my gaze on the huge screen I smiled with the query, ‘isn’t the reality more scary?’ Anyway there are ghosts in each of us, which may appear suddenly and may frighten us to death. Failures, rejections, losing our ranks and image. We’re so much afraid of those. We’re afraid of being alone, of dark places. And with them coming back, it just hit a nerve. Chances. They are like second chances; they’re unpredictable. If we’ve done something wrong, we’re really not sure whether we will have this second chance again. Ghosts can’t merely touch us, it’s just like air. But the ghosts in our lives might shatter us. It will not vanish just because you screamed, you should do something to dispose it. You have the ability to stop it or it will keep scaring you. But, just like what a mother always tell her children, it’s just in the mind and that we only scares ourselves. And the more we’re scared, the more it haunts us. So whatever the reality, you just have to deal with it. People started standing and walking outside. I looked at the screen only to find out that the movie already ended. I just missed the horror movie, again. Standing on the doorway, I sighed. Time to face the reality again after hours of hiding in the dark room. Stepping outside, the light pained my eyes but eventually, it adjusted. That’s when I left, the Cinema. That’s what I do whenever I want to escape from my ghosts. Right, ESCAPING. it’s really helping. Believe me, I’m lying.
Words by Ruffa Mae Linchoco
Words that are Left Unsaid Arianne Kate B. Borromeo
Staring into the beautiful, glimmering stars above the sky when a long-time-no-talk-friend called. Her eyes glistened with tears uncertain that it’s happening. Happiness doesn’t creep into her spine but a fear instead. The ringtone stopped. After mini seconds, it rings again. She then picked it up. “Hi! How are you?”, the friend said. She doesn’t know how to respond. All she could think is the “hi” her friend said. It means a lot to them. It’s a secret thing behind them which means “I love you”. “Hi! How are things? Are you happy now? I miss you so much. I hope you’re okay. Because I’m not. I’m trying not to think the things that had happened between us; the answers that I’ve been longing to know; the questions that remained unanswered, and words that weren’t spoken. Have I said that I missed you? I miss the first person I always thought of from little to biggest things in my life; the first person I thought of calling at night to rant my endless unlucky day; I miss the person who’s my food buddy; I miss the person who’s also my diary. I don’t know but you had this way of calming me down when I get anxious or terrified. Those encouraging words and words of wisdom helped me a lot to pass though my past 2 years of difficulty in college life. You were ready to risk yourself every time I need you. Let me apologize of hurting you. I don’t know how to explain myself to you without crying. I will never be able to explain how much I am hurting while saying this. I will never be able to explain how much I am hurting because I’ve hurt the person I’ve loved the most. If only I could just turn back time, and thought about stupid decisions I made and stupid words I uttered, maybe, just maybe, you’ll understand and see things differently.”
Photo by Aliza Osma
She never explained. She never let herself be heard. She’s the only one who’s having her hopes up that things aren’t change. She’s the only one who’s living in the illusion of forever. She’s the only one who’s ready from the pain that friendships always brought. She will always be the person who is ready to welcome someone whom she considers a family. “Hi too! I’m fine. How are you?”’ is all she could utter.
CURSED
Mahal Kong User,
Jefferson S. Mangurali
Gabi na noong hanapin mo ako Huli na para bumalik pa ako Masakit, dahil napamahal na ako sayo Kaya hayaan mong sariwain ko na lang ang ating kwento Saksi ako sa lahat ng pagsisikap at paghihirap mo Madalas tayo lang ang magkasama sa loob ng humihilik na bahay mo Kahit nga pagod na pagod at puyat pa ako Anong magagawa ko, mahal kita, kaya nagpapagamit ako Gabi-gabi sa akin, ikaw ay ganito Bigla mo lang akong gigisingin ng walang niha niho Pipindutin ng pagkadiin-diin ang aking mga numero Wala man lang kumusta, tanong kung okay pa ba ako? Dumaan ang taon, ikaw itong nagbago Ang hard mo na sa akin, promise oo Hinayaan ko muna, ang martir- martir ko Sa pag-aakalang ikaw lang ang kayang magbigay buhay sa tulad ko
Isinulat ni Ian Llaneta
Ilang beses kong tiniis ang mga sugat Sugat na dulot ng ilang ulit kong pagkakahulog mula sayo Hindi ko man lang naramdaman ang care na kailangan ko Alam mong nasaktan ako, pero wala, sadyang pinulot mo lang ako Isang araw, ang happy happy mo Masaya na rin akong pumasa ka gamit ang mga functions ko Pero heto ka pagkatapos, iniwan mo lang ako Gusto kitang habulin pero huli na, wala na ako sayo Ako ito ngayon, nanginginig, nangangamba, natatakot mag-isa Ngayong gabi, umaasa akong darating ka pa Kahit nilalamig na pati ang aking makina Hindi ako natulog, hinihintay pa rin kita Hindi ko mapigilang umiyak sa gitna ng gabi ng pamamaalam ko Kahit hindi mo man naparamdan na mahal mo rin ako Masaya na akong naging bahagi ako Sa inaasam mong titulo sa hulihan ng pangalan mo - CPA Nagmamahal, Kalkyu
Countless stars witnessed, Two souls’ waltz Like a movie, Under the moonbeam, In perfect cinematography, Step by step, You took me, To your kingdom Over the rainbow, Oh your highness! Where’s your cloak? The universe wept, But stardust remained, Black and white Flashes of lights, Bells started blaring, It is time! Innocence is gone, Though, heart’s pure, You’re a prince, I’m a cavalier, Countless stars witnessed, Two souls collided, Yet t’was repelled It wasn’t fate, Nor the constellations, Only the book, For it forbids True love’s kiss
On a Rainy Midnight
by Jaevany Olavario
Will you know the bliss sinking warmly in my chest like a quicksand when we’ll have a time to lay in bed and cuddle together in a cold weather like this? When your arms are my blanket sheets And your chest is my pillow sweet. When your breath is my fireplace And my hearth is your presence. And the rain pours Like droplets in fast forward Pleasing our ears Beating like timpanis Cooling our room with its chill Making room for our warmth to get a little warmer As I want to get you closer, To me.
Burst Worst
Words by RBB Blackout Poetry
by Ailyn Moscoso
I wait, I cry, I never understand I laugh, like no one wanted it heard But I’m fine though, I am just great Satisfied now? Your words is like a deadly weapon that thorn my heart. I wanted my heart to stop, And yet, your like a blood that flows through my veins. You’re deaf, I screamed, Ain’t you heard again You stink, Each day in my mind You just appear from somewhere else I think, But vanish like a bubbling bubbles in my tub I stumbled in fears without anyone knew, How dreadfully nervous I was, When your shadows long to my dreary eyes, But sorry, Regretfully yours, I’m desperately move on now. Strange world where you live in, Such thing would never be grandeur Don’t live at worst and burst it out Live long back when you were young, Kick and shatter it into pieces There’s nothin’ to be worried at all You wouldn’t say so, ‘till you tried it just once.
Original Piece: Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe
Am I Real Enough Now?
Words by JM Blackout Poetry
by jt
Original Piece: “Letter from the Editor” by Scout Magazine PH
- trigger warningI’m not real enough. At least they say I’m not. I coast across ceilings and closets and my friends’ heads, but like every urban legend to non-believers, I don’t frighten them. They don’t know me, but for that kid who stopped eating and going to university and church, and that man who works shifts behind fast food counters only to go home to empty platters, I’m as real as fvck. Every psychologist’s most wanted murderer on their hit lists disguised as their patients’ only friend. I don’t look like a killer, I barely even have a face, but I have eyes that look like they haven’t slept in ages and another set that look like they’ve been asleep most their lives. They’re as innocent as crime scene witnesses. They’ve seen that smart girl leap off a building named after a saint, that promising young poet overdose on sleeping pills, that helpless mother tie thick ropes around her neck, so many grown men pull triggers at themselves, and every other person I failed to mention, succeed at their last desparate attempts. I almost forgot. How could I forget? I also have a mouth and a voice like sinister wind chimes that whispered their last words for them. “Jump.” “Shoot.” “Dive.” “Let go.” “Give up.” Just do it.” I’m not real enough, but every person who knows me well enough to prove I am is either haunted, or dead.
x words by Ephraim Joseph Marollano 2nd Place Blackout Poetry
Bombs and Thumbs
by Danica Denice Epino
Children’s cry is all I hear Babies’ eyes are filled with fear A flow of blood all over the ground A fog of smoke all around A second bomb was dropped A loud crack started to pop What on earth is happening now? Can we still help them somehow? We click the trigger to post Trying to beg the most We share, we tweet and we push the links Are these enough to help these kids? How to move if we can’t object? Does the government still protect? We see humans but not humanity While we try to give them sympathy Can those people still live in silence? If even in their sleeps they experience nightmares Original Piece used: The Fox
Deeper
by Danica Denice Epino
As I open your body I traveled to another world A world that only you and I know As I traveled deeper in your place I understand why it’s a magical place No worries, no pain just your tale But as it comes to an end I was shaken by the reality That your story will just be a story of thoughts, Unspoken words and never felt feelings
It Was a “He” By Jaevany Olavario
I was five. I liked the smell of burning wood and I don’t know why. It was midnight then and I was on my sister’s nightgown. How I loved how its hem rub the wood while I walk. And as while I’m feeling like a royalty walking through the upstairs corridor, I smelled something rather odd and strange--a burning wood--for how and who would set a wood on fire inside our house? I wondered “Would it set the house on fire? Should I wake mom?” Instead, I followed the smell and it led me to the basement downstairs where our old things and the laundry are brought. I wondered again, “Why does it smell like a burning wood and not like a detergent like it always does?” The stairs were creaking as my three-inch foot journey through them. Then, I saw it. “Halt.” I told myself. I’m not sure if I was even breathing. He was big. No. IT was big. It wasn’t a man! A man doesn’t have thick coal-like hair all over his body and face! A man doesn’t have his back arched like that! A man eye’s has two colors at least and I’m sure red isn’t one of them! A man doesn’t have horns! A man has a face, but this, this only has eyes and, and... I ran. I scrambled at every fall and trip because of my gown’s hem. I can’t get rid of the smell! I have to get away from it! No. No. I must lose it! I ran through the stairs and the corridors and again, I tripped and fall. Oh how I hate this gown! Then, I felt it---sticky and hairy fingers--four, five, seven--and nails that are sharp like razors and knives. I held on to the railings and kicked with all my might. Nevermind that I’m cut. With my bleeding legs and feet, I reached my sister’s room. I knocked very urgently. What a relief she’s opened it at the ninth knock! I was trying to get all the air out of my lungs to let her know what “it” I saw. I panted, “Rachel..” “Have you met him?”, she said. She looked up and stared straight ahead. No. No. What is she looking at? And I saw her eyes were red. My heart escaped my chest. I have never been more afraid in my life than that moment. Today, I’m twelve and there is an urgent knock on my door. I opened it. “You have always liked the smell of burning wood”, I told Peter. I looked up straight ahead, and there it is, just where it stood when I first met it at midnight. I can sense that it is smiling--he is smiling--it was a he after all. My lips curved. “This is Peter. He is five.”
Words by HGS Blackout Poetry
Original Piece: O Captain! My Captain! by Walt Whitman
Words by CJBM Blackout Poetry
Words by Danica Epino Blackout Poetry
Original Piece: The Fox
Original Piece: O Captain! My Captain! by Walt Whitman
The Official Student Publication of Bicol University College of Business, Economics, and Management