Istoryan Writers

[shaxyra]

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@diem thanks diem.. email nako nimo ako works unya diay.. hehe

[thisbe.ara]

@astroboyreal: Kudos on your bisayan writing. it's one craft i still have to work my way through. hehehehe.. i tried writing in bisayan and ended up frustrated! hehehehee.. good job!

[astroboyreal]

chapter 5 of my story... Im still trying to learn the basic bisaya grammar... so please bear with me... banga pa kaayo ko mo suwat... this is out of boredome... and also when im drunk hehehe.

Mga Istorya ni Juan Pablo - Chapter 5 - Ang akong pinaka una na uyab si Esperanza Luna

si esperanza luna ma.oy ako pinaka una na uyab sa tibu.ok nakong kinabuhi, dile unta ko manguyab ato niya, kay ganahan man jud kog gwapa para na.a koy ipang hambog sa akong mga amigo, pero nanguyab ko niya kay magkasinabot mi, dile man ingnon na na in "love" ko niya pero magkasinabot lang jud mi in every angle. nagka ilaila mi ni esperanza luna or "inday" katong highschool pami, 2nd year highschool ko ato, kasagaran nako na amigo na.a nay uyab, na left out ko atong mga panahona, wala jud ko nag dahum na maka uyab ko niya, panahon pato sa isa ka instant messenger na ato itawag na "mIRC" diha nagka ila ila mi, dayon sa isa ka higayon nag kita nami, kaingon kog gwapa ni siya kay wala man siyay gipakita na picture, pero ang iyang kabubut-on ma.oy na gwapahan nako. lisod ning high school pata dili pata maka sabot jud unsay true meaning of love, ang atyo ani pang hambog ra sa mga amigo na naka uyab ta, vice versa sad sa babae. nag meet mi sa akong pinaka paborito na kan-anan dito sa ayala center, sa 4th floor tupad sa nu107, ang pizza roma. nad2 nagkita mi, i was kinda dissapointed kay dili ma.o akong gi expect kaniya, wala man ko nanaway pero dile ma.o akong gi expect sa iyang looks. si inday kay gamayon na babae, morena og na.ay class gamay. naka skirt pa siya og naka blouse, plano namo ato mangad2 mi sa glico's og mag lipay lipay. pero na uwaw ko kaniya kay tungod lagi sa iyang looks. dili man ko ingnon sad na pwerteng gwapoha parehas ni brad pitt. pero sa akong pag tan.aw og sa ubang tao na pag tan-aw itsura.an man pud ko. ma.o to ako lang gipugos akong kauglaingon na dile maguba iyang adlaw, kay naka make up paman ni si inday. nad2 sa glicos nanakay mi sa mini rollercoaster. didto nmi gakos siya nako, og na feel nako na na.a jud ni siyay gusto nako. as always nag take advantage ko sa iyaha ako dayon gipanguyaban kay 1st time paman to nako. tan-awon nako unsay feeling unsay manguyab, dile man di.ay lalim ang manguyab, ni hung-hong siya kanako na mag wait daw ko until mahuman among so called "Date" ma.o to pag ka human namo og lipay lipay, bisan siya rato nalipay ako wala, gi sugot ko niya, wala jud ko nag expect na iya ko gi sugot kay diretso diretso man akong panguyab niya. pero na uwaw lang ko sa akong kaugalingon kay nanguyab ko sa babae na wala koy gusto. as time passes by nawala na akong kauwaw kaniya sa akong mga amigo, si inday bisan dile siya itsura.an pero witty mansad siya, honor roll siya sa iyang iskuylahan. ma.o to nagka dayon mi ni inday hantod sa tulo katu.ig. daghan na anomaliya na nahitabo sa among relasyon. daghan kog 1st time na experiences niya, siya akong pinaka una na halok, siya ma.oy nagpa buak sa akong pagkalalaki og uban pa. hantod sa pagabot namo sa college. mo larga daw siya sa america kay nad2 daw siya mag college. nasakitan ko gamay, kay mawala siya, wala nakoy companion. pero i have to let her go kay ma.o man jud iyang ganahan. sa tulo namo ka tuig na pagkuyog daghan ko na realize, na ang pagka maanyag dile ra makita sa gawas pero na.a sa sa kasing kasing sa tao. nakat-on sad kog respetar sa babae og uban pa. sa tulo namo ka tu.ig ni inday siya ma.o akong handumanan sa kada gutlo atong tulo ka tuiga.

[dAmNseL jEnY]

Johnny and his F*cked Up Dolls

Johnny left Manila. He didnot want to leave the building he considered as his home and the neighborhood as his friends. He spent most of his childhood there. He gave one last look, gathered all the pieces of his boyhood memories then left his hometown.

He arrived at Cebu. He looked around and felt homesick. He didnot like the climate, malls, his new school, house and neighborhood. When he went to school, most of his classmates made fun of him because he didnot understand Cebuano. He felt terrible. He got no friends to talk to. He was alone.

His new world only consisted the four walls of his room. He rarely went out from his cocoon. He decorated his realm with Marilyn Manson posters, stashed his Silver Surfer comics, and dreamed of his home in Quezon City. He owned no action figures for his parents won't buy some for him. He felt alone, miserable, and f*cked up.

One day, he saw his sister's barbie dolls. As an outlet of his frustrations, he stole them and mutilated them. One by one he painted their faces with colored pens as though he's a tattoo artist. He chopped of their hair as though he is a barber. He fashioned their hair like mohawks, pony tails, and anti-gravity hairdos. He pulled out their heads, arms, and torso and exchanged it with the torso of other toys. He smiled at his dolls thinking they were his possession now. He created his own band of Amazon. Johnny and his f*cked up dolls rule the world he thought.

He was a bit happy, thinking that his band shared his loneliness. While Johnny was playing with his dolls, he heard gurly voices. He thought those were just his sister's friends exchanging foul-words against him. He didnot mind them. Afterall he got his own world where only Johnny and his f*cked up dolls existed. When he got out from his room, his sister's friends were shocked to see him holding his f*cked up dolls. He blushed with embarassment. However, in the midst of the crowd, one guy, the only guy in the group said that Johnny held cool toys. Then the two became friends.

With the help of Johnny's friend, he finally adjusted in Cebu. He learned how to speak Cebuano, skipped school, threw tantrums at his teachers, talked back to his parents, drank much booze, made love with his girlfriend (and she broke up with him after finding another guy), smoked pot, played drums and guitar, and finally joined a band. With his new-found-vida-bella, he never forgot his loyal Amazons, his f*cked up dolls. He still played with them.

So Johnny hanged around in Ayala with the guys from his band. Johnny and his band were introduced to a flock of wannabe socialite in Ayala. There he met a cry-baby wannabe socialite. The two became couple after a week of introduction. Johnny thought that having her will end up his misery. So Johnny bade farewell to his band of Amazon for he wanted to grow up. He threw his f*cked up dolls. He thought he won't be f*cked up anymore. Johnny was so wrong.

For four years that Johnny and his cry-baby wannbe socialite girlfriend were together, his girl was playing behind his back. Johnny felt used, miserable and betrayed. He was f*cked up. He missed his Amazons. If only he didnot throw them away.

Johnny is alone now. He went back to his coccoon, smoked pot, drank Red Horse like there will be no tomorrow. He drew objects on his face as though he is a tattoo artist. He shaved his head as though he is a barber. He was so f*cked up. Until one day a lady found him miserably dying. She raised him up and said that Johnny will be her f*cked up doll.

[diem]

@damnsel jeny, neat piece of writing-- straight and direct. And I like the irony of the ending.

[gareb]

hair
Sunday, April 15, 2007

perhaps it was the way you tied up your brown, wavy hair all the way back. nothing exquisite; just a piece of rubber band or a humble hair clip. the nape of your neck peers from between the collar of your white blouse and your wildly beautiful hair.

i have worshiped those strands of hair that evade your tiny hands, those that gracefully fall on the side of your face unnoticed. somehow your eyes grow wider with those silent strands framing your face.

and when they finally dance around too much, too much that you finally notice their play, a discreet pair of fingers gathers them and tuck them behind your pink ears...

but where do they really belong? where do those precious brown, unruly strands really find home? free, wild and careless, carried by the wind wherever it pleases? or bundled up in neat braids behind your head?

i have always thought that somehow, sometime when we grow older, i will wake up everyday smelling the scent of your hair.

until i saw you holding her hand; hers gently caressing your hair, lips whispering something that can only be "You're mine."




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i am not much of a writer, really. i can only write very short stories like these - 'flash fiction'. the requirements of other much longer kinds of fiction deadens me. blame my extra-ordinarily short attention span. i'm trying to fill one blog with these sort of fiction (or semi-fiction, if you may have it - most are oftentimes personal stories peppered with a wee bit of sensationalism for effect. ,) i will disclose the web address perhaps on a later date after i've accumulated a number of these rather tasty tidbits.

@diem and co. i need your opinion and comments on this. ty.

[diem]

[color=navy]@gareb, bro a strong however short effort in writing. I really enjoy the way you centralized every word and thought on an attractive part of the female anatomy. I think I've never read a "romantic" story focusing on hair the way you wrote it. Good use of personification. Language crisp and clean, just the way I like reading them.

Flash fiction is one of the general trends of today's writing. I think its coming from a readers' culture that is enjoying the bliss of reading and writing blogs. It's kind of like that sweet snack that you just have to have, meals and calories be d*mned!

Bro gareb, here's an idea though-- I'm sure you got plenty of these strong, passionate pieces recorded somewhere, I suggest you could group these accordingly to a category, perhaps chronogically or better yet "theme"-wise. (About the Girl, Identity, Origins, Progress) -- compiling these "flashes" of writing could explode into a larger body of work.

Much like New Year's Eve is not celebrated with just one firework but a whole nation of fireworks.

For your kind consideration. :mrgreen:

[splendid moonlight]

gareb, truth is, and this is one truth that must not be kept - I was turned on by your writing (although not necessarily by the implication at the end hehe). It kind of makes one want to believe she was that girl with the wild brown hair. Vivid and crisp imagery; very nice piece of writing.

[gareb]

@diem:

thanks for the nice words. i really do wish i could actually write something longer but i guess i am just too much of a child of this generation of 'instant' everythings. fiction is even instant, like cup noodles, made to be consumed in under two minutes. i was amused when you referred to flash fiction as a 'sweet snack' because i started up with flash fiction after reading 'Fast Food Fiction' i'm sure you did not miss out on your copy.

i've actually thought about that, diem, but when i started doing it, i realized that there was just too many categories that it's quite hopeless to place a semblance of order among those stray pieces of literature (if you can call them that). or perhaps it just don't know how to sort these pieces out? well, i guess it's worth another try.






@Luthienne:

if i can do that with my words, then by all means, i have done something great. ok, fine. im speechless now.

[mata_hari]

@gareb... hahay... how should i put it? hhhmmm

i am not much of a reader and a writer in the same manner and i don't usually hang around here... but if you are going to take my idiot-***** opinion, well here it goes... your writing is intense! i could not help but fall in love with it. the way you sensationalize your admiration in this female persona, so detailed, kind of obsessive... it's short but i need not read more... everything's in there..

such writing would surely gather fanatics from the female population.. hehehe.

please do write some more...