The Boy Who Stutters

I placed the box of groceries behind the tricycle and sat behind the tricycle driver since two passengers were already inside.  An old lady approached the vehicle and I offered my seat behind the tricycle driver without hesitation. “It is the softer seat,” I thought. So as decent as I am, I moved from the comfy seat to the steel one and said, “Dito nalang po kayo,” as I offered the space. “Napakabuting Ginoo naman. Pagpalain ka ng Diyos,” she spoke. It’s the least of my expectation to have a sudden feedback as I don’t usually get any response every time I offer the comfy seat. I then found myself smiling at joy. A part of it was because someone knows how to appreciate, and the other part was because of the overwhelming feeling I felt when she uses Ginoo to address me. I am not used to that; I was never addressed so highly like that, plus the idea that people rarely use that. The tricycle went off and I started to feel the uneasiness of my seat (just like what everyone feels on

He was my opposite, but somehow to the least of my expectation, people later see us as the same person. I was sure that it’s only our physical attributes; however, I fear that we’re also alike inside.  I have become who I am now because of him. I become someone he was not. I turned myself to become his total opposite, a responsible and sensitive individual. Did I intend to become like this? Yes. I knew that I would never want to become someone irresponsible. I knew I could never become someone careless. I knew I should never become someone insensitive. Then I thought, all I was wishing is just not to become someone like him.  He isn’t a bad person. He is someone I thought who would be there when the situation called for his presence the most. He is someone I thought who could serve his purpose knowingly. He is someone I thought who should take the responsibility and be held accountable in times like this. –Or so just I thought.  He is someone who failed my every expectat

What is Life? Is it between birth and death?  “Life is a Choice, a choice to be good and a choice to be bad.” “Life is a Gift, a gift given to you every day.” “Life is a Blessing, a blessing when you wake up every morning” “Life is Everything, everything you want and everything you wish.” “Life is a Decision, a decision to continue or end it.”  “Life is a Path, a path to go forward or to move backward.”  “Life is a Reality, a reality when you open your eyes.” “Life is a Fantasy, a fantasy only in your mind.” - TBWS July 24, 2014

So here you are, doing your own thing. I’m not surprised that you’re not as dramatic as I am, and that you’re not as fragile as she is. You’re a man of pride; it’s evident that you are. I realize that I’m as conceited as you, but at the same time, we have kept a humble image. What would happen if people can see both sides of a person at the same time? Would we dare to stay and ignore their negative side and just suffer eventually or would we leave them and save ourselves? Actually, not everyone has that kind of choice.  You see, it’s our nature to show others our good side because we are so afraid of being judged. However, as we spend time with people, we eventually learn their true colors. I eventually learn yours and I have to accept that. At first, I thought I could change you, but I realized that I am not capable of changing you. How frustrating that is, right? You, of all people, would know how frustrating it is not being able to change people the way you need them to. I know

I know how much you dream about him, About how much he becomes sweet, About what he can do for your happiness He is someone full of joy, Someone you enjoy talking to, Someone I am not It hurts me when you want his company more than mine. It hurts me more when you like when he makes you laugh. But it kills me when you love the very idea of HIM. But you know what, it doesn’t pain me at all. Seeing you happily together is enough to prove a point. What pains me is that I am falling out of love. Don’t be sorry for choosing him. Let me be sorry for I become inadequate. I am sorry for not being HIM. I just wish you enjoy my presence as much as I enjoy yours. You wronged me when in fact you enjoy his. But no, it doesn’t pain me at all. I am sorry for he is conventional. But I will not be sorry for being unconventional. “Why be ordinary, if you can be different?”  I always say. No, I am not giving up. I’ll suffer till it breaks my groun

You turned against me, facing the wall as you hug the pillow which was once larger than you. I know you were crying. I was crying too, did you know that? Well, I was, but I guess it didn’t matter to you or it won’t matter to you for now. Just for the record, you don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve any of this.  I held my tears for so long and I thought I could not help it any longer. I did my best not to burst into tears just like you did. I know you were holding your tears and I was holding mine. But we both couldn’t just hold it any longer, so you let your tears slip and drip just like I let mine. Of course, you didn’t know I was crying, but I knew you were. Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? So just you know, I stayed until I thought you cried yourself to sleep.  I lay upon the uncomfortable couch and I was still overwhelmed. I thought of you when I left you. Suddenly, I thought I heard something; I thought it was your voice. So I went back to check and I found you – a

Now I’m here all alone, missing your kiss The sweetness, your embrace, I surely miss The letters I’ve been writing, for I’m the one who’s hoping Those times when we’re together, walking with our laughter You laugh at your own jokes, every single time You smile like you have done, a little crime And now, I don’t know what will rhyme I just wanted to treat you like prime I made this poem for you, Trying to sing a song to you… You don’t know what it’s like, to be lost in your eyes You don’t know how it feels like, to be left in the blues I don’t know how it happened, it just occurred I don’t how if it’s the end, am I being lured? I had someone who cries when I’m mad, Someone who smiles when I’m sad, Someone who laughs when I’m the snob, And someone who loves me when I’m being bad Now I’m here all alone, missing your kiss The sweetness, your embrace, I surely miss How long should I’ve waited, you’re my only bliss

I’m with her right now, trying my best to keep my tears from falling. She is getting too emotional that my eyes can’t bear to see. I once read the worst thing is seeing her crying, and now I prove it truly is. The feeling is overwhelming; her cries are deafening. It’s numbing as this isn’t the first time I heard them. I’m currently speechless. My emotions restrain me from expressing. The numbing sensation in my chest stops me from uttering a single word. His every cuss surely leaves a mark in my ear. I just wish she ends the call right now and never answers it when he dares to call again. I just wish I could grab her phone and throw it away where she could never reach it, so she would never have to read those filthy messages she receives from him, so she would never have to feel degraded and destroyed anymore. I can say now that words kill; what’s worse is that it does not only kill, it destroys one’s soul. The tension in my chest has subsided a little bit when she finally had the

Hi! Someone has given me the idea of starting a blog of my own. He's one of my admirers (naks! 😁😄), or at least that's what he claims. I guess that just sounded differently, don't you think? Let me restate that.  So one of my  "fans" , who happens to be a close male friend of mine, has suggested that I start my own blog. Thanks to him, I have found time to do so.  Being my very first post (which I hope won't be my last), let me introduce myself through the wordle above.  The Boy Who Stutters That's I! I'm the boy who stutters.  Were you ever asked to write a "Who am I?" essay wherein you basically have to tell something about yourself? Have you written it figuratively or literally? I happened to read entries from some people and theirs were written literally; they just blatantly answered the given topic question . As for me, well, I am one of those people who dramatically write essays. By dramatically means in a deep