Once there 
was a young boy who was told to hate a man who loves tons of different bottles. His collection varied in sizes, sparkling colors, and crazy shapes. But what he fancied most was the way he’s mincing around enjoying them. He sleeps with them. He’s living because of them.
One day, his mother told the young boy of the consequences of playing with those bottles. His mother told him that there’s no future in those bottles. He could sense that his mom avoids him to put those bottles into his life. He believed her.
Years passed and the young boy turned into a young adult. He remembered what his mother said, “Never play with those bottles.” Like a child, he asked the question on his mind. He’s a child no more. With ample courage, he asked the man who loves tons of different bottles.
“Why those bottles,” he anxiously asked.
The man who loves tons of bottles squeamishly replied, “I wished…”
“It can’t rain all the time.”
— Brandon Lee
Time is running out. Maybe, as life stretches from a very simple point to an excessive complex one. The days seem so fast, or simply nothing important happen everyday. I get so anxious, on the downside, tremendously bored. I feel exhausted, unable to grasp a mouthful of good air. I forget to breathe and take a look around. On my first glance, there was Blessie.
It’s a bit funny to think that after several days of multifaceted thinking, I can’t imagine life without her. Keeping myself from self confinement won’t bring me little vindication on what I feel. There were people I ignored, I took for granted; moreover, forgot. I feel so bad, and one of them was Blessie. The constant phone calls were very much different lately. She was the one comforting me, giving me all the things words could defy. From my passive silence to my unpredictable sloppy way of thinking about things that she won’t understand, she listened. She gave me assuring words that I should halt from thinking too much. And yet, there is the sign of ingrate from me. I never knew she existed. It was like Alicia consoling her mad-capped husband John Nash in the tear-jerking film A Beautiful Mind. The series of near-lunacy I showed to her was enough to contemplate that I am so selfish and inconsiderate. I must be very sorry.
One night, it just happened that I sent a sappy text message to three persons. I gave momma, Dor and Blessie thoughts of extreme gratitude that I was still alive because of them. I just thanked God for giving me people to be at my side in times of troubles. I can’t help but shed some tears while clicking on the send button on the cell phone. Yes, Blessie replied that it’s best to count your blessings when you’re feeling totally down.
Yes, the extreme moments in my little lonely life makes it certain that God isn’t sleeping. I wonder if He will sleep after He knows that I’m alright. (100603) ®
I was restless. The cool whether suddenly turned excruciatingly humid. I can’t sleep again creeping on the edge. The front terrace on the second floor seems to invite me to stay outside. I submitted. I sat on the old wooden chair and stretched my lazy feet in the white-painted steel center table. I could see the silhouette of the pointed Mount Mayon hiding behind the shadows of the huge mango tree. In a stretch of that cold gloomy night, I peeked at the visible black skies reflecting me.
Surprised that I could see myself staring and smiling at myself, I relaxed. The beams of the sparkling heavenly bodies above struggles to tell me some joys that I want to have. The things that I yearn flickered. Indented wishes divulged some hints. Excited to know what it means, I stood up. I am disturbed by the stirring silence. Oblivious combinations of black and white smelled gray. The stench of cold air made me uncomfortable. I easily forgot that I was still looking beyond. I was puzzled.
The image it created was obscure. I wanted to know more. What happened? Its ambiguity confused me, giving me the push for clarity. I just want to sleep and leave it all behind. Those reflections did somehow reflect something monstrous that I didn’t dare discover. Was it telling me that I’d be happy when I wake up? I wonder. Before reaching for the door, I looked back beyond at the skies. It wasn’t there. I felt chilled. I hugged myself.
I’m all drenched.
was a young boy who was told to hate a man who loves tons of different bottles. His collection varied in sizes, sparkling colors, and crazy shapes. But what he fancied most was the way he’s mincing around enjoying them. He sleeps with them. He’s living because of them.
