The Boy Who Stutters

It’s been a week since school started, and I still don’t have my uniform. I made a promise that I’d finally be able to wear it by this week as we were only given one week allowance.   I went to the tailor shop, which my best friend recommended, to check if my uniforms are already tailored. Fortunately, they are all done so I told the tailor that I’d be back just to get my payment. By the way, his shop is just near so I just traveled by my grandfather’s bike. I came home, informed my father about it, and courageously asked him for money. He asked for the amount and I answered how much it is exactly hence receiving the exact amount. I immediately returned to acquire my uniforms. But this is not about my uniform, this is about my black shoes. I realized, I already have my uniform, my old black pants, but black shoes. I ought to buy a new pair because I got nothing to wear; however, I don’t have any budget. For some reason, I don’t want to ask for money. And for some unde

Describe me as a line I will tell you I’m fine. It’s hard to choose what kind Maybe because I’m blind. A straight or curve, long and short Unstable self or some of sort I’m a straight but slightly bend No one thinks I can ascend It’s hard to choose what word to say But describe me if you may What kind of line do I make? Maybe it’s undefined, I can’t take. Life has many ups and downs We can tell that life is round I have a life like the others Yet different that no one bothers I want to think that I’m straight That I’m stable and not a curve But my ego has great restraints That tells me I’m no superb Again, what kind of line am I? It’s undefined that I can’t lie. I’m not aware that I’m unknown Please inform me so I can know. I’m unstable, changing, and moving I will ascend endlessly while growing I’ll be myself as I pass by So what kind of line am I? - TBWS June 25, 2015 --- Third entry in Creative Writin

I was sitting on a bench in my favorite spot when a girl sat beside me. I didn’t mind her at first because I was busy looking at the view in front of me. I turned my head to see her face and learned that she was crying.  “Miss,” I called as I offer my handkerchief. She accepted it and thanked me.  “Are you okay?” I asked.  She answered that she’s not fine and started to cry a little louder.  “I just broke up with my boyfriend,” she started.  “ I knew that I’m not the only one, but I loved him!” she cried.  “December 15, it was my worst birthday. I saw him with another girl. They were eating at our favorite place. He used to surprise me with Camote cue. It’s my favorite. Damn! I miss him.” She emphasized.  “We used to watch volleyball in his house. He said that I’m obsessed with it. I really am!” she snapped.  I moved closer and tried to comfort her.  “He always teases me that I’m ambitious. Well, I admit. I play volleyball and I love it. I

Everyone’s eyes are on you. Other people are looking at you. Their minds are thinking of you and their mouths are speaking about you. They judge without knowing, they talk without reflecting, and they understand without learning. Everyone is different. We can say that we were created equal, but we’re not. We see each other differently and our perspectives are from our point of view. But who am I in the eyes of others? Writing others’ perspective is not easy and has never been easy. It is difficult to think about how people look at you and what they think of you, but it’s harder when you don’t even know how to look upon yourself.  I will still try my best to write others’ perspective about me from my perspective. A serious and snob individual, an intelligent student, and a responsible teenager; the leader of the group, and the boss, that’s how they see me. That’s what I think how they look at me. How did I know? I just know it. But of course, there’s still an explanation as to

You stayed. I thought that’s the solution; I later realized that that’s the problem. The ultimate paradox, it sure is.  I started asking myself whether it is reasonable to feel the way I feel towards you, and to think the way I do about you. I couldn’t figure whether my emotions are valid since they are always left unspoken. What could have gone wrong when we were perfectly happy? What would have occurred if you just didn’t make that mistake? I’m wondering what should happen now that we’re pretty messed up. It’s so unfortunate that we aren’t ruined beautifully but miserably. Why did you stay? I kept telling myself that your reason to stay was valid until I no longer believe that it is. Why did you stay when you shouldn’t have to? I kept believing that I need you until I no longer do. I kept thinking that your absence would destroy me until I realize it actually won’t.  Why did you stay?  Why did you?  Why?  I guess I would never know the answer unless I