tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45424501386967460932024-02-21T02:31:01.878+08:00The Online Sci-WingsThe official webpage/blogspace of the Sci-Wings, the English Paper of the Philippine Science High School Southern Mindanao Campus.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-76227854503215385152009-02-25T16:14:00.000+08:002009-02-25T16:20:29.176+08:00One Pisay Prom Night<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cenglish%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="time"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="date"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Calibri; mso-font-alt:"Century Gothic"; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">By Jonni Fay C. Teves</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>Most outsiders would probably think that we Pisay scholars only have our academics to live for.<span style=""> </span>In a way, they’re correct as most, if not all of us Pisay scholars believe that the academics are our foundation for a bright, secure future.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>In the same passion, however, we make sure that we somehow enjoy what we do no matter how hard it is.<span style=""> </span>After all, there is so much to celebrate about life.<span style=""> </span>One of the most awaited and celebrated <span style=""> </span>Pisay <span style=""> </span>moments is the Prom.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>We held our 2009 Juniors-Seniors (JS) Prom at the Apo View Hotel Grand Ballroom on <st1:date year="2009" day="6" month="2">February 6, 2009</st1:date> with the Victorian era theme.<span style=""> </span>Being a senior, that February 6 prom was my second and last prom experience.<span style=""> </span>My day started late as I made sure I would have enough beauty rest to last me till <st1:time minute="0" hour="0">midnight</st1:time>.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>At thirty minutes past five in the afternoon, the grand ballroom of the hotel was blooming and brimming with Victorian knights and beauties.<span style=""> </span><span style=""></span>What a sight to behold!<span style=""> </span>As <span style=""> </span>I stepped out of the car and caught sight of the scene and scenery before me, I was transported to the magic, beauty and grandeur of the Victorian era of the great <st1:place>British empire</st1:place>.<span style=""> </span>The Pisay ladies seemed to be so at ease in their Victorian-inspired gowns.<span style=""> </span>Many gowns looked as if fireflies made their home there - - what with the glittering gems and beads embedded there.<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>When we had our class dance, I felt I swayed and moved to the royal<span style=""> </span>dance of the era celebrating every victory snatched during the expansion of the <st1:place>British empire</st1:place>. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">In<span style=""> </span>that prom, we<span style=""> </span>also witnessed the metamorphosis of Pisay boys into dashing, debonair, honorably- dressed grand knights.<span style=""> </span>It was their moment, indeed!<span style=""> </span><span style=""></span>Many guys came with a new hair and face make-over.<span style=""> </span>That occasion brought out the vain side, or rather, the light side of all of us.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>But that was not only the moment for us students.<span style=""> </span>For<span style=""> </span>teachers and administrators also came in beautifully dresses and garbed, too.<span style=""> </span>In a way, everybody came dressed-to-kill.<span style=""> </span>We had a good time in a<span style=""> </span>tete-a-tete with our mentors.<span style=""> </span>It was magical to see the great professional divide between teachers and administrators on the one hand, and the students, on the other hand, being patched when they danced.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>Well, even amidst the economic meltdown, life goes on and the reasons to celebrate come out in abundance.<span style=""> </span>For example, we seniors found the prom to be the most fitting<span style=""> </span>time to celebrate our forthcoming graduation.<span style=""> </span>After all, we have weathered<span style=""> </span>four years of academic storms, so to speak.<span style=""> </span>That’s no mean feat!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>By the way, the prom was the perfect time for the dance showdown among the six sections of the juniors and seniors at Pisay.<span style=""> </span>The showdown showcased the dancing prowess of the students in the following areas:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>3 –Sodium: Chachacha </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>3 –Lithium: Swing</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>3 –Calcium: Samba</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>4 –Proton: Boogie</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>4 –Electron: Mambo</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>4 –Neutron: Tango</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>And the winning teams were:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>First place<span style=""> </span>- 4-Proton: Boogie</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>Second place – 4-Electron: Mambo</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>Third place – 4-Neutron: Tango</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>Prom Queen: Mary Joyce Chiong; Prom King: Bart David Quibod</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>……………………………………………………………………………..</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>Most of us felt good to have danced to our wildest abandon during that night.<span style=""> </span>The dance sort of unleashed the pressures and hardships<span style=""> </span>of Pisay academic life and we were grateful that our mentors understood and were patient with us. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>I can’t help but acknowledge the fact that while we danced and were transported in another time and space, many parents wait with mixed emotions - -until we were done and transported back in the present.<span style=""> </span>We saw many of them looked at us with approving, admiring though sometimes disbelieving eyes.<span style=""> </span>They seemed to exude that smile that says:<span style=""> </span>My child has finally grown up.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>To our parents, our gratitude for spending hard-earned bucks for our beautiful and impressive gowns and garbs.<span style=""> </span>Above all, our profuse thanks for continually showing us the love and<span style=""> </span>support in all steps of the way.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>Happy Valentines! </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-54922068342020840552009-02-13T12:26:00.000+08:002009-02-13T12:34:04.027+08:00News: PSHS-SMC honors Parents, Studentsby Elson Ian Nyl Galang<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Great hands...great minds...great parents..."</span><br /><br />Sponsored by the Math and PEHM units, the PSHS-SMC paid tribute to both parents of the country's scholars and the scholars themselves in a joint celebration of Parents' Day and the 3rd Card Giving Day last January 23, 2009.<br /><br />The event started with an opening program where Director's Listers were recognized and were given certificates of merit. The OASIOAS performed a cultural dance number. Later in the program, parents were surprised when their children approached them to give them tokens, gifts, and letters.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-80234758313357096812009-02-13T12:14:00.000+08:002009-02-13T12:38:34.267+08:00Sci-Tech Fair on the Go<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.charmedass.multiply.com/image/3/photos/78/500x500/15/DSC00782.JPG?et=XAyhc%2CPu%2B42vaKmRqByjVQ&nmid=188515771"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://images.charmedass.multiply.com/image/3/photos/78/500x500/15/DSC00782.JPG?et=XAyhc%2CPu%2B42vaKmRqByjVQ&nmid=188515771" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(Winner of the best display board, tarpaulin category. Photo courtesy of Charmaine V. Pecson)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />by Elson Ian Nyl Galang<br /><br />The Philippine Science High School-Southern Mindanap Campus celebrated the Sci-Tech Festival last January 22-23, 2009 at the school's gymnasium. This year's theme is: <span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"><span class="on down" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_JustifyCenter" title="Align Center" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 11);ButtonMouseDown(this);"><img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Align Center" class="gl_align_center" border="0" /></span></span>"searching4solutions@pisay.com".<br /><br />It was participated in by the different groups of students who showcased to the community their invented gadgets, investigatory projects, and math and science researches.<br /><br />The 1st year students presented their investigatory projects and gadgets while for the 2nd, 3rd and 4th year students were involved in math and science researches. Teachers, staff, and invited guests also took part in the event.<br /><br />After each group faced the prelimiary judging, the top five for the 2st and 2nd year levels underwent a science congress. On the other hand, the 3rd year level went through a "face-off".<br /><br />each qualified groups defended their reseaches and answered all the questions thrown to them by the judges and even audience members.<br /><br />The awarding ceremony followed, where the top three researches were awarded with medal-button pins and certificates. Awards were also iven to those groups with the best display boards in both the tarpaulin and non-tarpaulin category.<br /><br />On the morning of January 23, 2009, invited guest Dr. Jerry Layton gave a talk on creation science. He pointed out differences between creationism and evolution.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-78933168257965801442009-02-11T13:05:00.000+08:002009-02-11T13:06:32.740+08:00News: Third Q VEPby Andrea Domingo<br /><br /> Pisay students had their 3rd quarter Values Enrichment Program (VEP) last November 14, 2008 at different venues located in the Philippine Science High School – Southern Mindanao Campus grounds.<br /><br /> The theme of the said VEP varied from first year to fourth year. The first year students’ theme was “Building My Circle of Friends”, “Real Love or Infatuation” for the second year students, “Dealing with the Opposite Sex” for the juniors, and “Too Close, Too Soon” for the seniors.<br /><br /> Different organizations were also responsible for handling the different batches. The first year was handled by the Church of the Risen Savior, the second year was handled by the All Nations Christian Fellowship, the juniors were with the Youth for Christ, and the seniors were under the Christ Fellowship Church.<br /><br /> According to Mr. William A. Lotero, the event organizer, the next Values Enrichment Program will be on January 30, 2009, a Friday.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-69322988585939801512009-02-11T13:04:00.000+08:002009-02-11T13:05:17.752+08:00News: SG Organizes Outreach Program '08by Jonni Fay C. Teves<br /><br /> The Pisay community welcomed participants from 15 elementary schools in its Outreach Program ’08 with the theme “PSHS SMC CARES (Creates Avenues to Reach Out and Equip Students)” organized by the Student Government last December 5, 2008 at the PSHSSMC Gym.<br /><br /> While waiting for the participants, film entitled “The Little Rascals, Road to Tabitha” was viewed. After which, the invocation was led by Cherrise July Ross Adlawan and National Anthem by Maxine Nicole Bacareza. For the opening salvo, the group of Mr. Cromwell Castillo and selected students performed a dance number.<br /><br /> The introduction of Clubs namely: Student Government, Math-Sci, ICONS, JEM, Sports, Oasioas, CAC, CAMP, COL, Bidlisiw, Bagwis-Agham and Sci-Wings through a flash presentation was preceded by the inspirational message by the Director, Mrs. Delia C. Legaspino. <br /><br /> The Presentation of Certificates and Tokens followed led by Mrs. Delia C. Legaspino and the SG president, Alexandria Therese Tuason. The rundown of activities for the morning was announced then by the SG PIO, Julie Zarene de Guzman and finally a special number from selected students was presented. The masters of the ceremony were Ms. Pamela Gevera and Pocholo Espina. <br /><br /> After the morning program, the participants were divided into groups assigned to the different PSHS club organizations that prepared activities for them.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-12468793263281652212009-02-11T13:00:00.000+08:002009-02-11T13:03:18.927+08:00News: Intrams '08 Strikes with Pinch-Hitby Elson Ian Nyl Galang<br /><br /> Green Frogs. Yellow Griffins. Red Phoenix. Blue Pitbulls.<br /><br />November 20 2008 – Philippine Science High School – Southern Mindanao Campus’ students put on their colored sporting attire as they participated in the school’s Intramurals held at the school Gymnasium.<br /><br />The event formally started with the opening program where members of each year level cheered as they waved their flags and banners. Everyone was excited as the much-awaited cheer dance competition began. Every dancer moved, flexed and danced with the music.<br />Each year level showed amazing choreography, synchronization and energy.<br />The parlor games, “laro ng lahi”, basketball, volleyball, table tennis and the board games followed. Each cheered for their bets and participants. The crowd was even happier during the game “Maria went to Town,” where the boys dressed and walked like girls.<br />The participants were tired when the first day ended but their fighting spirit still ran alive until the second day.<br /><br />Everyone woke up early in the 21st of November as early as 6:30 am. Some participants are already practicing for the next event, the step dance competition.<br /><br />The gym was quiet as the different year levels presented their step dance presentations. Each participant vigorously stomped, clapped, and cheered. They were full of power as the rhythm of their body actions continue.<br /><br />Another highlight for the second day was the basketball championship. The Pitbulls and the Phoenix for both divisions (girls’ and boys’) struggled and suffered from a full-court press to get the title as champions.<br /><br />It was already the moment of truth after two days - the awarding of prizes. Every time the different teams were called as winners, their batch mates yelled and cheered until the major awards were given.<br /><br />The Pitbulls were declared champion in the men's basketball while the Phoenix reigned supreme in the girls’ division. The Pitbulls bagged the awards for the cheer dance, step dance, and double dutch contests. Special awards were also given to the Frogs for being the most punctual; the Griffins for being the most disciplined; the Pitbulls for being the most enthusiastic; and best governor award for Angelica Santos for the Phoenix. Mrs. Maria Teresa Tenchavez of the same team was declared as best adviser.<br /><br />It was a very close fight between the Pitbulls and the Phoenix; but in the end, the Pitbulls emerged as champion by a lead of 16 points. Following them were the blazing Phoenix, the energetic Griffins, and followed by the cute Frogs.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-247003961596971552009-02-11T12:52:00.000+08:002009-02-11T12:59:01.238+08:00Fiction: The Letter<p align="left"><a href="http://www.grandboomers.com/ww2letter.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 375px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 455px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.grandboomers.com/ww2letter.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><div align="center">by theletterwriterXD<br /></div><br /><br />I sat outside the house, swinging comfortably on the porch swing my dad built two years ago. It was cold outside but I refused to wear a coat. I wanted to experience the full blast of nature. I lay me head back on the wooden back rest and began pumping with my legs. I didn’t exert much effort because I only wanted to swing slowly. I closed my eyes, relaxing with the soft rhythm, but opened them suddenly due to a sudden surge of anxiety. I watched the slowing drizzle of the rain and shivered slightly as a cool breeze passed by. I would have been in my bed at that moment, comfortably huddled under piles of cloth with a nice thick book, but for a reason I could not explain I was there quietly suffering the abusive wind and the freezing rain. I jumped every hour, fearing I would miss something of importance. I looked at the mailbox again. I didn’t know why but I had the greatest expectation of receiving a letter. I glanced at the wet, concrete sidewalk hoping to see the woman with the postal bag. I wanted to see her smile and her wave as she stuffed the bills, my parents’ monthly journal, and the letter.<br /><br /><br /><br />I wasn’t sure a letter would arrive, it rarely does, but I just felt it. I stupidly allowed myself to feel ‘it’, though I knew in doing so I’ve also made myself vulnerable to the sadness and disappointment the unsent letter does send. Most of my days have been ruined by such expectations. But because of the letters that do arrive, every memory of the past pain is forgotten…well until you know, it comes again. I suddenly snapped back to reality when I heard someone’s loud and fast footsteps, as if running. My heart beat faster and my level of anxiety flew like a rocket. I nearly fell of the swing, when a couple of little grade school girls came to sight. The rain had become stronger. But I didn’t leave, because apart from being patient, and paranoid, I was stubborn. In fact the thought of missing the mail aroused more dread than a petty storm. I felt stupid for feeling that way. I mean I knew the letter would arrive whether I waited for it or not. But I wanted to be there. I wanted to see it actually placed into the tin box. After reading so many books about conspiracy theories, I wanted to make sure that from the time the mail was delivered to the time I opened the mail box, its contents remained untouched. We never know what the government or secret organizations will do. We have to be careful. Now I began to argue with myself, should I be sensible and just go inside? Says rational me. Or should I stay out here and freeze? Says Ms. Stubborn. I stayed.<br /><br /><br /><br />I stopped swinging now, as the cold was becoming too much. I placed my feet on the swing and began to hug my knees. This did little to warm me, but it calmed me down a great deal. So much so that suddenly the thought of no letter didn’t matter so much. Of course when I heard the sound of boots stomping over puddles, saw the smile and the wave, I forgot the previous relief. I waited for her to be out of sight before I shakily approached the mailbox. I opened it slowly and stood for a few seconds in front of the now exposed documents.<br /><br /><br /><br />I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I let out a low sigh as I entered the house. It felt good to be warm again. I placed the letters on the mahogany table in the middle of the living room. I wasn’t ready to read them yet. I went into the kitchen and began making myself a sandwich. I was thinking the whole time what if it wasn’t there?<br /><br /><br /><br />After nervously swallowing the last morsel of my bread and butter I went into the living room. I sat in the sofa and stared at the envelopes for a while. Okay this is it. I grabbed the stack and saw that the first one was a wedding invitation, and then came three bills, a magazine, and many other papers. There was no letter. I didn’t bother to look through the stack again because even though I had waited I already knew this would happen. I climbed up the stairs and entered my room. I sat on my desk and turned on my Pokémon lamp. I got out a clean sheet of paper and began to write a letter. And once again I must be the first to send, not the first to reply.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-22514933519733362552009-02-11T12:49:00.000+08:002009-02-11T12:58:17.164+08:00Poetry: What Keeps Me Going<a href="http://tbn2.google.com/images?q=tbn:BJM-C6tYzAdcxM:http://heavenawaits.files.wordpress.com/2008/05/prayer1.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 183px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 122px" alt="" src="http://tbn2.google.com/images?q=tbn:BJM-C6tYzAdcxM:http://heavenawaits.files.wordpress.com/2008/05/prayer1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>by nightinGALE<br /><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Forget the past<br />Look forward to the future<br />Something good is up ahead<br /><br />Reach for the sky<br />Keep your feet on the ground<br />Stick to your friends<br />And you’ll be alright<br /><br />Keep on learning<br />Don’t ever give up<br />‘Coz there’s something good<br />In each day that comes<br /><br />Seek for knowledge<br />Search for the truth<br />Grow in wisdom<br />Keep your faith alive!<br /><br />Don’t lose hope<br />Keep up the fight<br />Don’t worry I’m here<br />to make it alright.<br /><br />Learn to love<br />Live your life<br />Keep on dreaming<br />Keep on believing<br />Live for the most important people of your life.<br /><br />Seek for God<br />Learn from Him<br />Be enlightened by His never<br />ending love<br />Find your way back<br />to Him<br />And I assure you,<br />You will live a wonderful<br />Life with God by your side!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-2093313823849410772009-02-11T12:44:00.000+08:002009-02-11T12:46:11.512+08:00Poetry: 16 november 2008<a href="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:If6Iqstfl5j0kM:http://www.pointecoupeegallery.com/stglastms/heron.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 103px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:If6Iqstfl5j0kM:http://www.pointecoupeegallery.com/stglastms/heron.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />by YAJi<br /><br /><br /><br />suspended<br />in a time<br />in a land of tall shadowy green leaves<br />in the dawn<br />bombarded<br />surrounded<br />with dark silhouettes<br />of the branches above.<br /><br />seated<br />unceremoniously in the<br />dusty<br />stained<br />white bridge edges<br /><br />and the frogs<br />and insects<br />and creatures<br />croak and roam and hop<br /><br />as they blend in<br />the background of<br />suspended<br />temporary<br />peace.<br /><br />loathe the disturbing<br />wretched<br />footsteps of the same kind<br />(no you’re not the same; you’re different –<br />they just look like you)<br /><br />and you long to hide<br />as your heart races<br />because maybe<br />they’ll come for you so you’d<br />do the things of<br />their world.<br /><br />you refuse.<br /><br />you look away and sit still<br />and you hold your breath<br />because you don’t want<br />to be seen.<br /><br />but you can’t stand it,<br />you get down and<br />runrunrun.<br /><br />because you are the<br />last one<br /><br />with the white soul<br /><br />of the children of your god.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-77104732520797871222009-02-11T12:34:00.000+08:002009-02-11T12:59:51.886+08:00Poetry: You are You<a href="http://www.hmd.org.uk/files/1164103265-130.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 287px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 293px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.hmd.org.uk/files/1164103265-130.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">by icntblvuseddat<br /><br /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">A thousand nights and a thousand days<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Wasted...<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">I held the box of matches<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Their black heads taunting me<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">They offered me light<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">But still I refused<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">I knew something was lurking in the shadows<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">I knew not whether it was good or bad<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">But Darkness offered security<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">If it was bad at least I would never see...<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">But...<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">What if...<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Is brightness the way?<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">...I positioned the stick of wax<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">The rough edges of wood at my fingertips...<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">I heard the friction between them<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">I could feel my heart beat...<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">I took a deep breath<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Closed my eyes...<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Hesitation filled every bit of me<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">But I had to face the truth<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">The gleam blinded me<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">My eyes took time to adjust...<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">I soon grew afraid<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">My lips quivered, ready to kill the uneven flame<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Yet beauty devoured my sight<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Kindness clung to me...<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">In that moment I held Peace<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Her hands, warm and comforting,<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Were embellished with Contentment’s jewels<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">And Relief’s rings adorned her fingers<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">But.<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Wind came...<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Flowing in a movement of her own<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">The flames soon danced to her rhythm<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Figures around me came to be distorted...<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Behind beauty were shadows<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Light’s flickering altered kindness...<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">And the jewels of Peace were thieved<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Was brightness the way?<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Was fire and warmth the answer?<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Confusion and madness has now trapped me<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">And still I remain<br /></div></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#00cccc;">Unsure. </span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-40511566107818989502009-02-11T12:32:00.000+08:002009-02-11T12:47:36.011+08:00Poetry: jupiter, mars<a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3006/2926547714_856307fcb1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 500px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3006/2926547714_856307fcb1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;">by YAJi<br /><br />tonight<br />there were two stars.<br />two unflickering, exceedingly bright stars.<br />(is it technically correct to<br />call them so?<br />they were far too close<br />to be stars,<br />far too unflickering to be<br />called such.)<br /><br />the two have been lingering in the<br />same sky<br />for days now,<br />lingering, staring,<br />piercing.<br />unwavering.<br /><br />i met them with a stare<br />as intense –<br />so intense, yet they still<br />refuse to blink –<br />and finally i give up and let them stare at me.<br /><br />i let the stars stare.<br /><br />and somehow, the pair<br />(outshining the rest as usual)<br />seemed to flicker and smile –<br />triumphantly –<br />when i’m not looking.<br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-2712282105963593302009-02-11T12:30:00.001+08:002009-02-11T12:31:56.457+08:00Poetry: Blue World<a href="http://www.dreamstime.com/abstract-love.isolated-thumb584133.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.dreamstime.com/abstract-love.isolated-thumb584133.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center">by Le Szarch<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;">The sky is blue<br />The sea is too<br />And without you<br />My world is too</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-13002455270251929582009-02-11T12:26:00.000+08:002009-02-11T12:29:46.404+08:00Poetry: A to Z<strong><span style="color:#ff6666;">Aquiline </span><br /></strong><br /><div>Adamant to realities,<br />Quivering beneath shaken knees, <a href="http://tbn1.google.com/images?q=tbn:dz-Jm8E5ckhM1M:http://blog.chaotic.co.uk/uploaded_images/love_everyday-788080.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 110px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 123px" alt="" src="http://tbn1.google.com/images?q=tbn:dz-Jm8E5ckhM1M:http://blog.chaotic.co.uk/uploaded_images/love_everyday-788080.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Unwavering in her fear,<br />Infuriating meanings are unclear,<br />Lamenting for wavering,<br />In dilemma over breathing,<br />Never to bequeath resilience,<br />Enamoured is my existence.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Zephyr</span><br /></strong><br />Zeal lives in every nerve,<br />Encasing this vibrant body,<br />Pride enhancing every line,<br />Heaving uncertainty,<br />You lead the wake,<br />Rested, now awake.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-53431239319612722632009-02-11T12:19:00.000+08:002009-02-11T12:24:56.566+08:00Fiction: A Chance Meetingby: Vermie <br /><br />The only time Grace met the “prince” of their land, she had paint on her face. A dramatic slash of blue - green -- cyan to name the color -- that started from the tip of her nose to the right cheek and managed to weave its way to the corner of her eye. The year was 2008, the setting a bus bound from Davao to Surigao. The heroine, a girl whose paint - splattered face was the least of it. There was also a dab of yellow on her hair, a streak of black that ran from her sleeve to her forearm, and orange on her shoe, and it would be impossible to name the colors found on her hands and under her fingernails. Grace herself was aware of the colors that adorned her shoe and her forearm. She had been admiring the combination of shades on her fingernails, and she had seen her face and ear reflected in the window when the bus passed under the bridges. No wonder a few of the other passengers had been staring at her as she walked down the aisle, searching for a seat; that the conductor had been smiling as he punched her ticket was completely understandable. <br /><br />Still, what could she do? She had tried rubbing the cyan off -- such a cool and serene color but to no avail. So with a shrug, she left the cyan to glow dramatically -- but also with serenity and coolness -- on her nose and cheek. <br /><br />An artist, Grace was dressed in what she considered a nightmare -- a uniform. Grace loved her school which was tiny and select, attended by scholars who passed the national competitive exams. But uniforms?! She was an artist! Artists were supposed to have freedom! Plus, the color of their uniforms were unique, making it hard for her to blend in, and harder, now, that her uniform had paint splattered on all sorts of places. She gazed out the window to pass time and dozed off once or twice, and dreamed of vivid colors swirling. Unlike other girls her age, Grace never dreamed about boys. <br /><br />They arrived, with the conductor calling out Surigao bus terminal, and with a screech, the bus came to halt. Waking up, Grace shook herself, rubbed her eyes and stared wistfully at her paint - covered clothes, wishing that she brought a change of clothes. She gathered her bags, which were light, since she would only be staying for the semestral break, and walked down the aisle and out the door. The haze Surigao sunshine made her feel as if she was still dreaming. <br /><br />As she walked out the bus terminal, she heard the conductor telling other passengers that the prince would pass through this very station. She can’t help but feel a twinge of curiosity. <br /><br />The terminal had been freshly swept and scrubbed. It was the fact that the terminal was empty of people that Grace’ s curiosity for the prince vanish. As if the prince belonged to a higher form of life, as if he was too valuable to breath the air of the common people…the prince led a sheltered life. His home, a grand palace surrounded by acres of land -- gardens on one side, riding stables on another -- for his riding club, the Twilight Riding Club, an exclusive club for nobles who knew how horseback riding. His home occupied multiple precious blocks right in the center of the city. Its privacy was so closely protected that even the great roads were forced to bend to its will because it had not been allowed to be too close to the palace. Grace believed in efficiency and the location of the palace went against her stand for efficiency. <br /><br />She started thinking about the prince. What is it about him that made the girls talk about him? Well, sure he belonged to the riding club, which she heard was filled with good - looking guys but… is he that special? Thinking these thoughts, Grace ran to catch another bus to her quarters. <br /><br />The prince dressed in their school uniform was the first thing Grace saw when she arrived in the waiting shed. She was so close and her approach was so swift that he was startled and pulled back. There was a murmur of concern from his body guards, who stood two meters behind him. Grace also noticed that although for their concern, the men made no attempt to bridge the gap between her and Prince Ren. <br /><br />She was a commoner, someone who walked on regular basis, was probably breaking some rule by standing so close to him. She and Ren were no more than a meter apart, close enough for her to observe that he was of medium height, slightly taller than her. He was every bit as her girlfriends promised. Who would have thought that his skin be fair, his eyes deep, his body lithe like a dancer, at the same time, lanky like an athlete? <br /><br />They were also close enough to let him see that she had paint on her face… <br /><br />Grace covered her nose with her hand but it was too late; in a moment his mouth broke into a crooked smile and his eyes shone with laughter, and as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. No longer shy, rather humiliated, Grace felt her face grow warm. <br /><br />How dare he laugh at her! Who does he think he is? <br /><br />A god perhaps, or a noble’s son… Grace bowed deeply.<br /><br />Then she lowered her hand from her face, lifted her head high and walking rather than running for once, swept past him, the cyan still glowing dramatically… so cool and serene… yet also… so satisfying…Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-57356484494780823612009-02-11T12:11:00.000+08:002009-02-11T12:16:50.514+08:00Fiction: Love and Death<a href="http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/pic/AGF/8577~All-my-Love-Forever-Posters.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 336px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 425px" alt="" src="http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/pic/AGF/8577~All-my-Love-Forever-Posters.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>by: F J: D<br /></div><br /><div><em><strong>“Then I realized that love really doesn’t have a happy ending because love has no ending.”</strong></em><br /></div><br /><div>I was both wondering and wandering in our school’s library looking for a book to borrow when someone shouted and called out my name. “Jen!” I turned around to see my best friend waiting for me outside the library carrying with him my books and my bag. “Shoot.”, I muttered. I forgot that it’s Wednesday, a usual day for us to hang out and relax in the park.<br /><br />When I found the book that I was looking for I hurriedly took it from the bookshelf and went near the librarian for the borrowing of the book. I walked as fast as I could to not attract much attention. Unfortunately, someone already noticed. “Hey Jen! It looks like your boyfriend is waiting for you now.” Yna said. Yna is Nick’s ex – girlfriend and is the major drama queen. “Shut up! He is not my boyfriend!” I whispered. After getting the book, I quickly went out of the library, grabbed my things from him and walked straight. I didn’t even care to say a simple “hi” or even saying “thank you” for bringing my stuff. I just moved on. Not until we were out of the school grounds that I talked to him again. “Nick what were you thinking? Why do you always shout my name in the library? Are you trying to embarrass me? Why do you always annoy me every Wednesday afternoon?” I was so mad at him that I could feel my face turning red because of my anger. This wasn’t the first time he called my name out loud; to be exact, this is the 22nd time and still counting.<br /><br />So we continued to walk, silence prevailed. “OUCH!” I turned to look who it was and unfortunately, Nick stumbled. I couldn’t help not laughing at him. He had a very funny position and when he looked up; his face was covered with mud. Still laughing, I was caught unaware when suddenly he pulled me down and right there and then, we were both covered with mud. This is just one of the many things I love about my best friend.<br /><br />Nick has been my best friend ever since we were kids wearing diapers. We were in the same neighborhood and were in the same school since nursery even up to now. We know so much about each other that whenever one feels bad, the other feels the same. I always loved him more than just a best friend but I never told him about it. After all, I don’t want to lose a best friend. I was the first person he turned to when he had his first problem about girls and he, on the other hand, knew my very first crush.<br /><br />By the time we reached the park, it was already starting to be evacuated by people. Little kids were starting to go home holding hands with their parents. Lovers began to move side by side with each other. Nothing changed. This is just a usual scenario we always see whenever we come here every Wednesday. It’s like a movie always being played back. We were the only people there at that time. The only difference is the candlelit area nearby the pond where we usually hang – out.<br /><br />“Looks like we have to move to another place, Nick.” I said. “Think so.”, Nick replied. I started to change direction when Nick grabbed my hand and took me to the candlelit area. “Nick, what do you think are you doing?” I asked. “Hanging out with my best friend.” He replied. “Nick, someone‘s going to use this place and we have no right to interrupt.” I said. “I set this one up so we do have the right” He replied. I didn’t ask more questions. We just sat there in silence until Nick spoke, “Jen, do you really just want me as your best friend?” I didn’t reply. I was taken aback by his question. The next I knew his lips were pressing against mine. I pushed him back and asked me once more, “Do you just love me as your best friend?” “No. I love you more than a best friend, Nick. I don’t want to admit it to you because I don’t want our friendship to be broken” I replied. “Jen, I’ve always loved you more than just a best friend. I tried to love you as my younger sister but it simply won’t just work. I tried to convince myself to stop loving you as my girl. I dated others but every minute I spent with them is a like a waste of time. Now that you know how much I love you, will you be my girl? ” Just merely listening to his words made my heart melt. I did not reply because I know that no words can express how much I feel. I just went near him and hugged him as tight as I could. He then whispered, “I love you”. “Love you, too.” I replied.<br /><br />Ever since that day, we were always together. We were like magnets, he’s Pole A and I’m Pole B. Every single day when we’re with each other is a day in heaven. Every single day in our relationship went well.<br /><br />We graduated from college. Nick graduated with a degree in law and I graduated with a degree in medicine. We were both known in our fields that we were awarded as people of the year. Later on, we decided that we have enough to be able to build a family so we had our marriage.<br /><br />Our marriage then became the most unforgettable event of my life. From the bouquets of flowers to the reception, every thing no matter how small was given importance. We had our honeymoon in Hawaii and we returned a week later. As we arrived home, I was vomiting and my head was aching so much that I think my head is being hammered. The maid was cooking my favorite, lasagna and just stopped when I started yelling at her. “Why were you yelling at her, hon? She’s cooking your favorite food.” Nick said. “I don’t like the smell and besides I’m not hungry.” I replied. Then I heard a boisterous laugh made by Nick. “Why are you laughing? I’m in great pain and you don’t even care?!” I said. “Jen, hon dress up. We’re going to the doctor” He replied. “But I’m a doctor!” I replied. He giggled then laughed boisterously, the laugh that I love before but now is getting pretty annoyed at. “You’re a doctor yet you don’t know that these signs just show that you’re pregnant!” He gave me a pregnancy test and when I took it, indeed I was pregnant. He was jumping up and down shouting that he’s going to be a daddy.<br /><br />Nine months later, I bore a beautiful baby girl named Jenicka. She is a very charming baby with dimples and cute little fingers. She had his Dad’s hazel – colored eyes and her lips were a red as mine. We all loved her. She has made our marriage even stronger despite of all the odds.<br /><br />A year later, Jenicka had her first birthday. A lot of preparations were made to make everything just right for our wonderful little angel. There were balloons, clowns and even a chocolate fondue. She even had guests of different ages and once again they were pleased with her spirit.<br /><br />Everything seemed so perfect that we did not notice Nick missing. “Mommy, where is Daddy?” Nicka asked me. “I don’t know my dear but don’t worry Mommy will look for him.” I replied. “Just continue to enjoy you’re party!”<br /><br />“Nick! Nick! Where are you?” I shouted. I went inside our room to see him lying on the bed “Are you okay, hon? You look so pale!” I said. “No, I’m okay. Don’t worry my head just aches so much.” I kissed him on the forehead. He was about to rise when I told him not to. “Hon, just sleep and rest, I’ll tell Nicka that you’re fine. I’m the doctor here so you have to follow.” “Okay ma’am.” He chuckled.<br /><br />The next few days were not coming up very well. Nick had severe headaches but still had to go to work and he was also being so forgetful. Nicka was very moody and she doesn’t cooperate and I was so busy with my responsibilities in the hospital. I don’t know what to do but still I have to be strong for our family.<br /><br />About a month a later, a very disastrous event occurred that changed our life. Nick had a seizure and the bad thing about it; I was out of the country for a conference. I was worrying so much. Every now and then I would call to check how he and Nicka was doing but unfortunately it was always the maid who answered my phone calls. I returned after 2 weeks and realized that Nick is still in the hospital. “What could be wrong?” I whispered to myself. I phoned home and the maid answered. I learned that Nicka is still sleeping and the maid just told me to go directly to the hospital because of a certain reason.<br /><br />As I reached the hospital, people’s eyes were on me. I could feel it. I could sense that something is really wrong but what could it be. Then I heard a group of trainees talking. “How could she not know what’s wrong with her husband?”. The other asked. “I thought she was the best.” The other said in reply. I tried not to listen. I tried not to worry. I tried not to pay attention to every whisper or talk I could hear. I tried not to look but the more I see people whisper while I pass the more my heart wants to burst. Could someone just approach me and tell me the truth?!<br /><br />As I reached my office, my closest colleague, Mike, approached me and told me to follow him. I tried to keep up with him. I tried to follow the speed of his feet but barely could I. Mike had to hold me to make sure I won’t fall when we reached a familiar room. It was the same room I stayed in when I was waiting for the labor of my first baby. “Jenicka.” I murmured to myself. My voice was so low that even Mike didn’t hear me. I have to be strong for Jenicka. The thought came directly into my mind.<br /><br />As we entered the room, I can see machines and apparatus attached to Nick’s body. It was exactly the same room where I stayed, with the green wallpaper, the air conditioner at the right end, the TV across the bed everything was the same. The only difference, the emotions; during my stay, the room was always full of people giving fruits and flowers and they were all excited to see my baby. However with Nick’s stay, although there are flowers and fruits, the room is so dull. When Nick confesses his love for me, no words can express how happy I am and to describe this room, no words can be used.<br /><br />“Jen!” Mike whispered loudly.<br />“Uh. Sorry. What?” I replied<br />“Just wait for Nick to wake up. He wants to tell you himself.”<br />“Okay. Thank you”<br /><br />He nodded in response and left the room. I am all alone not exactly alone but alone because I have no one to turn to. I want to cry but I don’t want Nick to feel bad. I want to scream at the top of my lungs but couldn’t because I don’t want to disturb him. “I’m the worst doctor!” I mumbled. “No, you’re not.” A voice replied. A very familiar voice that I so much missed; a voice of the person I so much love. “’NICK!” I replied. I couldn’t explain how I feel. I moved nearer Nick’s bed and sat beside him carefully.<br /><br />“Jen”<br />“Nick”<br />“Jen I love you and Nicka but please don’t let the child come here.”<br />“Hon, you know how much I love you and I promise you not to let Nicka worry.”<br />We sat in silence. I want to know what’s wrong with him but I don’t want to start the topic so I waited for him.<br /><br />“Jen”<br />“I have Metastatic brain cancer.”<br /><br />I did not reply but tears were already starting to drop. He wiped the first drop and kissed my cheek. Then he continued.<br /><br />“All those symptoms, the headache, seizures, bleeding, nausea, swelling and vomiting, Jen.”<br />“You were bleeding?”<br />“Only for the days I’ve been here in the hospital. All the symptoms were present.”<br />“Nick! I’m so sorry! I told you I’m the worst doctor!”<br />“No! You’re the best! Jen, the doctors gave me at most 2 months to live. With this, may we have a vacation together with Nicka anywhere? Let’s just spend my two months happily as a family. ”<br /><br />I was speechless. I just kissed him on the forehead and the next I knew we slept. I was holding his hand just making sure he is safe.<br /><br />The following day, I was awakened by the sounds of pumping, doctors, machines, and even crying. I woke up and saw that Nick was bleeding. Bleeding so much that, doctors cannot do anything. They were all doing their very best. I was there as well but not as a doctor but as a wife. I was like a statue. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t talk. All I could was pray. I went outside to see Nicka and my parents and Nick’s parents all comforting me. They wanted to tell me that everything is going to be fine but as a doctor myself, I know, it’s not fine. I know that it is something really serious and if no one can do something about it, DEATH will be the answer.<br /><br />Then Nick was pronounced DEAD. We went inside, even Nicka, and there we could see Nick so pale and lifeless. The once jolly and gay person, the person whom I entrusted my whole life to, is dead. One of the nurses took a white sheet and started to cover the body of my only love and as he starts to cover his dead body our love’s happy ending also starts to fade; hope also starts to end.<br /><br />That is my love story. Those were the times when I believed that love always has a happy ending but then I realized that love doesn’t really have a happy ending, like most fairytales have, because love has no ending. As long as love grows swiftly in our hearts even if at the times we struggle the most, love will still have no ending.<br /><br />“Mommy! Mommy! Are you done talking to Daddy?” Nicka asked.<br />Another familiar voice; a voice of the daughter of my only love, a voice of why my life should go on.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-77893794880546769552009-02-11T12:03:00.000+08:002009-02-11T12:11:20.637+08:00Poetry: Promise<a href="http://i115.photobucket.com/albums/n291/llee3566/rainbow.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 432px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 426px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i115.photobucket.com/albums/n291/llee3566/rainbow.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>by: <a href="mailto:W@k0k0">W@k0k0</a><br /><br />We made a promise<br />Under a tree<br />We were still children then<br />We promised each other eternity<br /><br />After that you had to leave<br />It gave me reason enough to grieve<br />That I had to face the world alone<br />Alone...and on my own<br />I waited and hoped<br /><br />That you'd return someday<br />So we can go back to the days<br />When you were still there to stay<br />I never saw you againAnd you never saw the pain<br />Never wiped the tears<br />Never healed the heartbreaks while others mocked and leered<br /><br />But you also gave me something<br />The pain made me braver<br />The tears made me stronger<br />The heartbreaks made me wiser<br /><br />Days would pass without a thought of the past<br />But once in a while I remember<br />The joys of a lifetime?<br />The things that last?<br />They all happened because of you</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4542450138696746093.post-81171745972964584222009-02-11T11:43:00.000+08:002009-02-11T12:48:32.316+08:00Fiction: Heartwarming Confession<a href="http://tbn2.google.com/images?q=tbn:-nI2IhcJEhLISM:http://www.bubblyfunk.co.uk/images/Love%2520%26%2520hearts%2520journaling%2520letters.JPG"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 109px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 114px" alt="" src="http://tbn2.google.com/images?q=tbn:-nI2IhcJEhLISM:http://www.bubblyfunk.co.uk/images/Love%2520%26%2520hearts%2520journaling%2520letters.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div> </div><br /><div>by: s0me1_you_know </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Why are my eyes so drawn to her?" Jacob asked himself as he watched Madison at the corner of his eye, fast asleep. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It was their free period. The students already broke into their gangs and cliques, discussing the latest information a.k.a gossip they heard about their crushes. </div><div></div><div>Jacob was only half - listening to their conversation when someone suddenly asked him, "So, who do you like, Jacob?". "Uh... er... I don't have anyone who I like..." Jacob said. The group, losing interest since they can't guess his crush, stopped asking him... at least for the moment. "...I think..." he said, finishing his sentence. Luckily no one heard him. </div><br /><div></div><div>Their next class was P. E. The boys stayed in the classroom to change. The girls, after changing in the girls' CR, stayed outside so they wont fall victim of the guys' pranks. While waiting for the teacher, the boys decided to play a game of tag. As the game progressed, the boys became more desperate to finish the game before their P. E. starts. </div><br /><div></div><div>Jacob wasn't caught yet since he was athletic... due to the fact that he possessed a lanky frame and long legs. Johnny, wanting to end the game stuck out his foot, causing Jacob to trip. He brushed himself and found that he had some cuts and bruises. Some of them were still bleeding. </div><div></div><div>A hush descended upon the boys as a shadow fell over him... and he heard a voice... her voice... "Here, let me help. This came up in my first - aid training last summer." Madison said, pulling out a clean bandanna. She helped him hobble to the nearest faucet where she cleaned his wounds and tied her bandanna to the deepest cut, which was bleeding still. Tying it securely, she offered to escort him to the clinic but Jacob declined saying, "It's okay. You still have to help in the demonstration, right? I can manage." With a doubtful look, Madison went back in the direction of the demonstration. </div><div></div><div>As Jacob hobbled along, his thoughts were suddenly filled with images of her brown hair under the sun, her expressive eyes betraying more concern than she was willing to let on. He shook his head and smiled inspite of himself. He stopped, and leaned on the wall.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Aaahh... so that's it..." he said to himself. He touched her bandanna..."I like her...", he quietly added under his breath...</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0