Okay. This post is dedicated to the novel that cut my tear glands up and sent those salty water out of my system. And i'm not talking about one of those kind of novels. I was exactly talking about the ONLY novel.
MOCKINGJAY.
The whole Hunger Games Trilogy revolved around the fact that people die and we can't do anything about it. No matter how special they are, or how lovable, or how they're also protagonists in some way-they die. They freaking die under the imagination of this brutal, violent, yet strikingly awesome author under the name of Suzanne Collins. So, the Mockingjay was the last of the three books. The whole group of rebels, the main cast of the story, is at war and they somehow got chased on the whole entire city by the Peacemakers or the Police, in normal terms. They made their way down the sewer system of the city, and decided to reach the antagonist's mansion through there, underground. So, Katniss, the heroine of the story, leads the whole troop. After some long hours of trekking that slimy, dark, and stinking pipes, they decided to rest. After some time, she heard some hisses. After a few more of that, she realized that it was her freaking name. So, she wakes up everybody and decided to run. Two of them decided to be left behind to buy some time. And as y'all know, when people volunteer to leave them behind, they might as well making their death wish, only in a more heroic way. But, those two wasn't enough. Those hissing mutants came closer and closer, until they almost got her. This Pollux guided them to a ladder up to the streets again, and so I though, YES. They're freaking safe. But, after some narrating, Katniss noticed that Gale, her best friend, and Finnick, my fictional husband, wasn't among the ones who were safe. She peered down and pulled Gale, his neck bleeding like crazy. Katniss tried to pull someone, anyone out. But Gale stopped her saying that there's no one left even though Katniss can hear a human cry. When she peered down again, she saw three of those hissing monsters, yanking Finnick's body. And my awesome Finnick, is still conscious trying to defend himself . Then, one of those monsters bent down for the death blow. Katniss sort of had a connection with Finnick at that time, and she was the one who saw the whole life of Finnick, flashing back.
THAT'S WHERE I CRIED.
Finnick died in the manner of a brutal slaughter. Like really, Collins. You've killed Cinna already. Can you spare this handsome, seagreen-eyed hottie for me? I was like, WHY, OH WHY, DID THIS PERFECT MAN HAVE OT DIE?? WWWWHHHHHHHYYYYY?????
There would absolutely be no difference! My sister went downstairs to see me crying in front of the computer screen as I was reading a PDF version of it.She didn't mind, though.
But the point is, Finnick Odair died in the arms of those hissing monsters. Honestly, you wouldn't have any idea how gorgeous he is if you haven't read the book. So here's the deal: Freaking try to read the books first, then judge me if I'm way too dramatic by Finnick's death. I don't care if he loves Annie. I care, okay? I care enough to cry for him. WAY TOO INVOLVED, in this book I was. Yes, I cried for some fictional character that was supposed to be alive some time in the future. But, come on, I read those books, reveling at the things that he did.
I'd rather have Gale died, than him. Because if Gale died, then Katniss would be hurt but there's Peeta to keep her whole. But if my Finnick die, who would keep Annie whole? Who would keep her sane? Or me for that matter, how, Oh how, will I be able to react to the movie if he did die? I cannot. The books were already harsh in my imagination. How will I be able to get through the movie version?
Oh, Finnick. You'll still be alive in my heart, though. Finnick.
Martes, Disyembre 20, 2011
I'm seriously back.
Okay, it's been such a long time, and I mean really long. But, seeing as my last post needed a conclusion, let me say the ending...
Is it such a bad thing to expect? I don't think so. I mean, you seriously can't go on in this life without those expectations, right? So, there you go. I kinda got my hopes up as high as those skyscraper things so when it didn't happen, I fell back to the ground unable to do anything about it. There you go. Yes, my dream was being the champion because I have some reputation that I have to earn. But then, life doesn't always give you what you want. So, I lost. I came up 1st Runner-Up and to most people, they said that I seriously did fine. But after the contest, I cried and was still in a painful stupor. Do I look like I seriously did fine? Like, really. I was in a bad shape and not even Krispy Kreme and Starbuck's can tune up my depressed mood.
So yeah. I really, seriously broke down. Like, come on, girl, get your bearings fixed. Well, thankfully, God helped me get better. He was there making me understand that it wasn't such a bad thing, after all. So yeah, my bitterness stayed etched inside my heart for a while there, but time healed everything. The event that got me down to my feet helped me got up again, and a lot closer to God. Our relationship hit some rough patch a few times, but somehow, repair was on its way.
Which is really a good thing since I can't go on in this life without His hand guiding me all along.
So there you go, the conclusion of this story ends here.
Is it such a bad thing to expect? I don't think so. I mean, you seriously can't go on in this life without those expectations, right? So, there you go. I kinda got my hopes up as high as those skyscraper things so when it didn't happen, I fell back to the ground unable to do anything about it. There you go. Yes, my dream was being the champion because I have some reputation that I have to earn. But then, life doesn't always give you what you want. So, I lost. I came up 1st Runner-Up and to most people, they said that I seriously did fine. But after the contest, I cried and was still in a painful stupor. Do I look like I seriously did fine? Like, really. I was in a bad shape and not even Krispy Kreme and Starbuck's can tune up my depressed mood.
So yeah. I really, seriously broke down. Like, come on, girl, get your bearings fixed. Well, thankfully, God helped me get better. He was there making me understand that it wasn't such a bad thing, after all. So yeah, my bitterness stayed etched inside my heart for a while there, but time healed everything. The event that got me down to my feet helped me got up again, and a lot closer to God. Our relationship hit some rough patch a few times, but somehow, repair was on its way.
Which is really a good thing since I can't go on in this life without His hand guiding me all along.
So there you go, the conclusion of this story ends here.
Huwebes, Nobyembre 10, 2011
When my world BROKE DOWN.
I really don't know how to start right now. The only thing that I want is to tell the whole story. I just wanted to tell what I really feel, no one interfering, no one commenting. Okay, here I go.
November 10, 2011. My big Oratorical Contest. Actually, being the person to represent my school, is already such a great honor for me. Especially when the previous contestant for this contest made her thrilling way to the National Competition. She may not have won any place on the Nationals, but it's still a great achievement. I mean, what are the chances that you get to be in the Top 12 of the whole country? That is not a joke, anyway you see it. So there, it's very flattering that my English Teacher, who also stood as my mentor, chose me to follow those big steps. But the pressure, on the other hand, is overwhelming. I can't afford to disappoint anyone, myself included.
My practices went on. My mentor exposed me to speak not only to my classmates, but also to the other students in my school. I drank that awful ginger tea to improve my voice. I didn't dare drink anything cold for a long period of time. My feet hurt because I'm always standing. But I didn't really feel any hardships of very big consequences. Because, you see, I loved what I'm doing. I reveled the fact that I get to do what my forte is. I was emerged on my element. Well, you know, the preparations, and all, they slowly lead to that big day.
I woke up early and thankful because after my dad prayed for me that morning, together with my mom, he took me to school and waited there with me until my mentor and my awesome classmate, who woke up early and do my make-up, arrive. Well, to make the story short, we arrived on the venue. This is it.
We waited in a very cold room, adoring my business suit the whole time because my coat provided enough warm. I couldn't afford to catch an irritating cold. Well, I was Contestant No. 1 and so I was up first for the interview with the Board of Judges. The interview went okay, I hope I looked open and inviting to them. I smiled as naturally as I can and I hope I answered their questions in a dignified yet respectable way. But really, I was honest with everything that I said. After that, we took our lunch then proceeded to the auditorium where the contest was going to take place. Before that, I get to have a short time with three of my friends, grateful for their support. Our school principal was there together with our English Coordinator. Whew. No pressure. Calm down. GOD'S GOT THIS., I thought.
I stood up there, delivering a small prayer before I start then faces the crowd...
-----TO BE CONTINUED-----
November 10, 2011. My big Oratorical Contest. Actually, being the person to represent my school, is already such a great honor for me. Especially when the previous contestant for this contest made her thrilling way to the National Competition. She may not have won any place on the Nationals, but it's still a great achievement. I mean, what are the chances that you get to be in the Top 12 of the whole country? That is not a joke, anyway you see it. So there, it's very flattering that my English Teacher, who also stood as my mentor, chose me to follow those big steps. But the pressure, on the other hand, is overwhelming. I can't afford to disappoint anyone, myself included.
My practices went on. My mentor exposed me to speak not only to my classmates, but also to the other students in my school. I drank that awful ginger tea to improve my voice. I didn't dare drink anything cold for a long period of time. My feet hurt because I'm always standing. But I didn't really feel any hardships of very big consequences. Because, you see, I loved what I'm doing. I reveled the fact that I get to do what my forte is. I was emerged on my element. Well, you know, the preparations, and all, they slowly lead to that big day.
I woke up early and thankful because after my dad prayed for me that morning, together with my mom, he took me to school and waited there with me until my mentor and my awesome classmate, who woke up early and do my make-up, arrive. Well, to make the story short, we arrived on the venue. This is it.
We waited in a very cold room, adoring my business suit the whole time because my coat provided enough warm. I couldn't afford to catch an irritating cold. Well, I was Contestant No. 1 and so I was up first for the interview with the Board of Judges. The interview went okay, I hope I looked open and inviting to them. I smiled as naturally as I can and I hope I answered their questions in a dignified yet respectable way. But really, I was honest with everything that I said. After that, we took our lunch then proceeded to the auditorium where the contest was going to take place. Before that, I get to have a short time with three of my friends, grateful for their support. Our school principal was there together with our English Coordinator. Whew. No pressure. Calm down. GOD'S GOT THIS., I thought.
I stood up there, delivering a small prayer before I start then faces the crowd...
-----TO BE CONTINUED-----
Lunes, Oktubre 31, 2011
Seeing it MY WAY...
Okay, here's what happened: I'll cut the shortcuts and proceed to the detailed happenings of my life...my recent life happening.
I was browsing posts on Tumblr when I saw my classmate message my other classmate. An insignificant message, though but I now finally found out the url of my classmate. It's been a complicated one so I haven't succeeded on my previous tries of locating it.
Anyway, I typed the url and then, I started browsing her posts. After a few pages, I saw her post about what happened that day. She was my groupmate on my Economics project and so far, she hasn't done anything. Come on, it's a business proposal and all that, of course it's hard to do!
There were maths, and computations, and all the in-betweens. So, obviously, we needed her help. We've spent a lot of time finishing it without her and her shadow on sight. Still, we did that. Without her significant help.
The day before the passing, one of my groupmates made her type the drafts and make the Sales Projections. She finally said yes. And take note that she didn't come to us for her part. We came to her. Might as well include her in the grade or something.
Well, we did the other things that were still left unfinished.
---The Next Day---
She didn't come to school because she caught a fever. Well, she delivered her finished work and yeah, we put up with it even though her Sales Projections was just copy-pasted from the internet, not even bothering to change the company's name. So yeah, it was fine with me. She did help a little bit.
But last night, I couldn't help letting out my feelings. Had she done something on our project? Had she put on her full efforts in it? Had she slept late because she had so many things to type, or edit? Had she spent her free time on her classmates' house instead of just resting?
NO. She wasn't there when all of us were. And now there she was saying that she had so much work to do and she was sick and their ink was very expensive and all. There she was cursing all the way down to her last scene of events when she wasn't there when we passed it. To top it all off, she posted my exact words on Tumblr making me the bad guy of her story. Yet, here I sat in front of my computer screen, letting the steam come off silently.
How in the world did she found out our side comments and complaints?
All because of a mouth who could never stop talking about someone else's life. I knew her attitude ever since we met but I wasn't this irritated. If she had kept her mouth shut, nobody would have problems.
Well, hey, I'm not perfect. My patience runs a little dry at times. I had to say that she had a perspective that I can't accept.
BUT THEN, A CHORD STRUCK MY HEART.
What was I thinking? She is my friend. I laughed with her, I shared my moments with her, I went out with her, I cried with her, I imagined crazy scenes with her. We once had a beautiful relationship. But it just ended. And I don't know how it really did. We just sort of drifted away from each other. Now, I could only make fancy conversations with her. We weren't what we were before.
As I sit here longer, I began to see her own way. Yes, I understood her, alright.
I was mad at her because of all the things that she said, I had the opposite way. Because of all the things that she wrote down, I had my own perspective of things. I hated her because she didn't see the whole story the way I wanted it to be seen.
Well, in the end, the bottomline was that, IT WASN'T MY FAULT. IT WASN'T HERS, EITHER.
This whole issue is that people are people. We have issues. We have different point of views. We have differences. That's what makes up life. Because if God hard-wired us the same traits, genes, and way of thinking, I don't think He build humanity after all.
Nobody had to say sorry, I understood her. And through that, I understood my part, too.
* I just wished that she tried understanding our part, too because I made myself see her perspective clearly. And one more thing, I just wished that she used a clean language.
----The END----
I was browsing posts on Tumblr when I saw my classmate message my other classmate. An insignificant message, though but I now finally found out the url of my classmate. It's been a complicated one so I haven't succeeded on my previous tries of locating it.
Anyway, I typed the url and then, I started browsing her posts. After a few pages, I saw her post about what happened that day. She was my groupmate on my Economics project and so far, she hasn't done anything. Come on, it's a business proposal and all that, of course it's hard to do!
There were maths, and computations, and all the in-betweens. So, obviously, we needed her help. We've spent a lot of time finishing it without her and her shadow on sight. Still, we did that. Without her significant help.
The day before the passing, one of my groupmates made her type the drafts and make the Sales Projections. She finally said yes. And take note that she didn't come to us for her part. We came to her. Might as well include her in the grade or something.
Well, we did the other things that were still left unfinished.
---The Next Day---
She didn't come to school because she caught a fever. Well, she delivered her finished work and yeah, we put up with it even though her Sales Projections was just copy-pasted from the internet, not even bothering to change the company's name. So yeah, it was fine with me. She did help a little bit.
But last night, I couldn't help letting out my feelings. Had she done something on our project? Had she put on her full efforts in it? Had she slept late because she had so many things to type, or edit? Had she spent her free time on her classmates' house instead of just resting?
NO. She wasn't there when all of us were. And now there she was saying that she had so much work to do and she was sick and their ink was very expensive and all. There she was cursing all the way down to her last scene of events when she wasn't there when we passed it. To top it all off, she posted my exact words on Tumblr making me the bad guy of her story. Yet, here I sat in front of my computer screen, letting the steam come off silently.
How in the world did she found out our side comments and complaints?
All because of a mouth who could never stop talking about someone else's life. I knew her attitude ever since we met but I wasn't this irritated. If she had kept her mouth shut, nobody would have problems.
Well, hey, I'm not perfect. My patience runs a little dry at times. I had to say that she had a perspective that I can't accept.
BUT THEN, A CHORD STRUCK MY HEART.
What was I thinking? She is my friend. I laughed with her, I shared my moments with her, I went out with her, I cried with her, I imagined crazy scenes with her. We once had a beautiful relationship. But it just ended. And I don't know how it really did. We just sort of drifted away from each other. Now, I could only make fancy conversations with her. We weren't what we were before.
As I sit here longer, I began to see her own way. Yes, I understood her, alright.
I was mad at her because of all the things that she said, I had the opposite way. Because of all the things that she wrote down, I had my own perspective of things. I hated her because she didn't see the whole story the way I wanted it to be seen.
Well, in the end, the bottomline was that, IT WASN'T MY FAULT. IT WASN'T HERS, EITHER.
This whole issue is that people are people. We have issues. We have different point of views. We have differences. That's what makes up life. Because if God hard-wired us the same traits, genes, and way of thinking, I don't think He build humanity after all.
Nobody had to say sorry, I understood her. And through that, I understood my part, too.
* I just wished that she tried understanding our part, too because I made myself see her perspective clearly. And one more thing, I just wished that she used a clean language.
----The END----
Seeing it MY WAY...
Okay, here's what happened: I'll cut the shortcuts and proceed to the detailed happenings of my life...my recent life happening.
I was browsing posts on Tumblr when I saw my classmate message my other classmate. An insignificant message, though but I now finally found out the url of my classmate. It's been a complicated one so I haven't succeeded on my previous tries of locating it.
Anyway, I typed the url and then, I started browsing her posts. After a few pages, I saw her post about what happened that day. She was my groupmate on my Economics project and so far, she hasn't done anything. Come on, it's a business proposal and all that, of course it's hard to do!
There were maths, and computations, and all the in-betweens. So, obviously, we needed her help. We've spent a lot of time finishing it without her and her shadow on sight. Still, we did that. Without her significant help.
The day before the passing, one of my groupmates made her type the drafts and make the Sales Projections. She finally said yes. And take note that she didn't come to us for her part. We came to her. Might as well include her in the grade or something.
Well, we did the other things that were still left unfinished.
---The Next Day---
She didn't come to school because she caught a fever. Well, she delivered her finished work and yeah, we put up with it even though her Sales Projections was just copy-pasted from the internet, not even bothering to change the company's name. So yeah, it was fine with me. She did help a little bit.
But last night, I couldn't help letting out my feelings. Had she done something on our project? Had she put on her full efforts in it? Had she slept late because she had so many things to type, or edit? Had she spent her free time on her classmates' house instead of just resting?
NO. She wasn't there when all of us were. And now there she was saying that she had so much work to do and she was sick and their ink was very expensive and all. There she was cursing all the way down to her last scene of events when she wasn't there when we passed it. To top it all off, she posted my exact words on Tumblr making me the bad guy of her story. Yet, here I sat in front of my computer screen, letting the steam come off silently.
How in the world did she found out our side comments and complaints?
All because of a mouth who could never stop talking about someone else's life. I knew her attitude ever since we met but I wasn't this irritated. If she had kept her mouth shut, nobody would have problems.
Well, hey, I'm not perfect. My patience runs a little dry at times. I had to say that she had a perspective that I can't accept.
BUT THEN, A CHORD STRUCK MY HEART.
What was I thinking? She is my friend. I laughed with her, I shared my moments with her, I went out with her, I cried with her, I imagined crazy scenes with her. We once had a beautiful relationship. But it just ended. And I don't know how it really did. We just sort of drifted away from each other. Now, I could only make fancy conversations with her. We weren't what we were before.
As I sit here longer, I began to see her own way. Yes, I understood her, alright.
I was mad at her because of all the things that she said, I had the opposite way. Because of all the things that she wrote down, I had my own perspective of things. I hated her because she didn't see the whole story the way I wanted it to be seen.
Well, in the end, the bottomline was that, IT WASN'T MY FAULT. IT WASN'T HERS, EITHER.
This whole issue is that people are people. We have issues. We have different point of views. We have differences. That's what makes up life. Because if God hard-wired us the same traits, genes, and way of thinking, I don't think He build humanity after all.
Nobody had to say sorry, I understood her. And through that, I understood my part, too.
* I just wished that she tried understanding our part, too because I made myself see her perspective clearly. And one more thing, I just wished that she used a clean language.
----The END----
I was browsing posts on Tumblr when I saw my classmate message my other classmate. An insignificant message, though but I now finally found out the url of my classmate. It's been a complicated one so I haven't succeeded on my previous tries of locating it.
Anyway, I typed the url and then, I started browsing her posts. After a few pages, I saw her post about what happened that day. She was my groupmate on my Economics project and so far, she hasn't done anything. Come on, it's a business proposal and all that, of course it's hard to do!
There were maths, and computations, and all the in-betweens. So, obviously, we needed her help. We've spent a lot of time finishing it without her and her shadow on sight. Still, we did that. Without her significant help.
The day before the passing, one of my groupmates made her type the drafts and make the Sales Projections. She finally said yes. And take note that she didn't come to us for her part. We came to her. Might as well include her in the grade or something.
Well, we did the other things that were still left unfinished.
---The Next Day---
She didn't come to school because she caught a fever. Well, she delivered her finished work and yeah, we put up with it even though her Sales Projections was just copy-pasted from the internet, not even bothering to change the company's name. So yeah, it was fine with me. She did help a little bit.
But last night, I couldn't help letting out my feelings. Had she done something on our project? Had she put on her full efforts in it? Had she slept late because she had so many things to type, or edit? Had she spent her free time on her classmates' house instead of just resting?
NO. She wasn't there when all of us were. And now there she was saying that she had so much work to do and she was sick and their ink was very expensive and all. There she was cursing all the way down to her last scene of events when she wasn't there when we passed it. To top it all off, she posted my exact words on Tumblr making me the bad guy of her story. Yet, here I sat in front of my computer screen, letting the steam come off silently.
How in the world did she found out our side comments and complaints?
All because of a mouth who could never stop talking about someone else's life. I knew her attitude ever since we met but I wasn't this irritated. If she had kept her mouth shut, nobody would have problems.
Well, hey, I'm not perfect. My patience runs a little dry at times. I had to say that she had a perspective that I can't accept.
BUT THEN, A CHORD STRUCK MY HEART.
What was I thinking? She is my friend. I laughed with her, I shared my moments with her, I went out with her, I cried with her, I imagined crazy scenes with her. We once had a beautiful relationship. But it just ended. And I don't know how it really did. We just sort of drifted away from each other. Now, I could only make fancy conversations with her. We weren't what we were before.
As I sit here longer, I began to see her own way. Yes, I understood her, alright.
I was mad at her because of all the things that she said, I had the opposite way. Because of all the things that she wrote down, I had my own perspective of things. I hated her because she didn't see the whole story the way I wanted it to be seen.
Well, in the end, the bottomline was that, IT WASN'T MY FAULT. IT WASN'T HERS, EITHER.
This whole issue is that people are people. We have issues. We have different point of views. We have differences. That's what makes up life. Because if God hard-wired us the same traits, genes, and way of thinking, I don't think He build humanity after all.
Nobody had to say sorry, I understood her. And through that, I understood my part, too.
* I just wished that she tried understanding our part, too because I made myself see her perspective clearly. And one more thing, I just wished that she used a clean language.
----The END----
Seeing it MY WAY...
Okay, here's what happened: I'll cut the shortcuts and proceed to the detailed happenings of my life...my recent life happening.
I was browsing posts on Tumblr when I saw my classmate message my other classmate. An insignificant message, though but I now finally found out the url of my classmate. It's been a complicated one so I haven't succeeded on my previous tries of locating it.
Anyway, I typed the url and then, I started browsing her posts. After a few pages, I saw her post about what happened that day. She was my groupmate on my Economics project and so far, she hasn't done anything. Come on, it's a business proposal and all that, of course it's hard to do!
There were maths, and computations, and all the in-betweens. So, obviously, we needed her help. We've spent a lot of time finishing it without her and her shadow on sight. Still, we did that. Without her significant help.
The day before the passing, one of my groupmates made her type the drafts and make the Sales Projections. She finally said yes. And take note that she didn't come to us for her part. We came to her. Might as well include her in the grade or something.
Well, we did the other things that were still left unfinished.
---The Next Day---
She didn't come to school because she caught a fever. Well, she delivered her finished work and yeah, we put up with it even though her Sales Projections was just copy-pasted from the internet, not even bothering to change the company's name. So yeah, it was fine with me. She did help a little bit.
But last night, I couldn't help letting out my feelings. Had she done something on our project? Had she put on her full efforts in it? Had she slept late because she had so many things to type, or edit? Had she spent her free time on her classmates' house instead of just resting?
NO. She wasn't there when all of us were. And now there she was saying that she had so much work to do and she was sick and their ink was very expensive and all. There she was cursing all the way down to her last scene of events when she wasn't there when we passed it. To top it all off, she posted my exact words on Tumblr making me the bad guy of her story. Yet, here I sat in front of my computer screen, letting the steam come off silently.
How in the world did she found out our side comments and complaints?
All because of a mouth who could never stop talking about someone else's life. I knew her attitude ever since we met but I wasn't this irritated. If she had kept her mouth shut, nobody would have problems.
Well, hey, I'm not perfect. My patience runs a little dry at times. I had to say that she had a perspective that I can't accept.
BUT THEN, A CHORD STRUCK MY HEART.
What was I thinking? She is my friend. I laughed with her, I shared my moments with her, I went out with her, I cried with her, I imagined crazy scenes with her. We once had a beautiful relationship. But it just ended. And I don't know how it really did. We just sort of drifted away from each other. Now, I could only make fancy conversations with her. We weren't what we were before.
As I sit here longer, I began to see her own way. Yes, I understood her, alright.
I was mad at her because of all the things that she said, I had the opposite way. Because of all the things that she wrote down, I had my own perspective of things. I hated her because she didn't see the whole story the way I wanted it to be seen.
Well, in the end, the bottomline was that, IT WASN'T MY FAULT. IT WASN'T HERS, EITHER.
This whole issue is that people are people. We have issues. We have different point of views. We have differences. That's what makes up life. Because if God hard-wired us the same traits, genes, and way of thinking, I don't think He build humanity after all.
Nobody had to say sorry, I understood her. And through that, I understood my part, too.
* I just wished that she tried understanding our part, too because I made myself see her perspective clearly. And one more thing, I just wished that she used a clean language.
----The END----
I was browsing posts on Tumblr when I saw my classmate message my other classmate. An insignificant message, though but I now finally found out the url of my classmate. It's been a complicated one so I haven't succeeded on my previous tries of locating it.
Anyway, I typed the url and then, I started browsing her posts. After a few pages, I saw her post about what happened that day. She was my groupmate on my Economics project and so far, she hasn't done anything. Come on, it's a business proposal and all that, of course it's hard to do!
There were maths, and computations, and all the in-betweens. So, obviously, we needed her help. We've spent a lot of time finishing it without her and her shadow on sight. Still, we did that. Without her significant help.
The day before the passing, one of my groupmates made her type the drafts and make the Sales Projections. She finally said yes. And take note that she didn't come to us for her part. We came to her. Might as well include her in the grade or something.
Well, we did the other things that were still left unfinished.
---The Next Day---
She didn't come to school because she caught a fever. Well, she delivered her finished work and yeah, we put up with it even though her Sales Projections was just copy-pasted from the internet, not even bothering to change the company's name. So yeah, it was fine with me. She did help a little bit.
But last night, I couldn't help letting out my feelings. Had she done something on our project? Had she put on her full efforts in it? Had she slept late because she had so many things to type, or edit? Had she spent her free time on her classmates' house instead of just resting?
NO. She wasn't there when all of us were. And now there she was saying that she had so much work to do and she was sick and their ink was very expensive and all. There she was cursing all the way down to her last scene of events when she wasn't there when we passed it. To top it all off, she posted my exact words on Tumblr making me the bad guy of her story. Yet, here I sat in front of my computer screen, letting the steam come off silently.
How in the world did she found out our side comments and complaints?
All because of a mouth who could never stop talking about someone else's life. I knew her attitude ever since we met but I wasn't this irritated. If she had kept her mouth shut, nobody would have problems.
Well, hey, I'm not perfect. My patience runs a little dry at times. I had to say that she had a perspective that I can't accept.
BUT THEN, A CHORD STRUCK MY HEART.
What was I thinking? She is my friend. I laughed with her, I shared my moments with her, I went out with her, I cried with her, I imagined crazy scenes with her. We once had a beautiful relationship. But it just ended. And I don't know how it really did. We just sort of drifted away from each other. Now, I could only make fancy conversations with her. We weren't what we were before.
As I sit here longer, I began to see her own way. Yes, I understood her, alright.
I was mad at her because of all the things that she said, I had the opposite way. Because of all the things that she wrote down, I had my own perspective of things. I hated her because she didn't see the whole story the way I wanted it to be seen.
Well, in the end, the bottomline was that, IT WASN'T MY FAULT. IT WASN'T HERS, EITHER.
This whole issue is that people are people. We have issues. We have different point of views. We have differences. That's what makes up life. Because if God hard-wired us the same traits, genes, and way of thinking, I don't think He build humanity after all.
Nobody had to say sorry, I understood her. And through that, I understood my part, too.
* I just wished that she tried understanding our part, too because I made myself see her perspective clearly. And one more thing, I just wished that she used a clean language.
----The END----
Linggo, Oktubre 30, 2011
Turned to dust---Just Like that…But then, HOPE.
So, this is actually a sequel to my latest post: WOW. UNBELIEVABLE.
Well, I don't exactly know when to start. Second Grading is almost to its end, and of course, dreaded tests go sneaking up my back again.
Calculus was the one I was fearing above all of the subjects that I study. And I'm so right. Calculus really ruined my LIFE.
I got a real awful score at the prelims so when I computed my highest possible grade,...Man, I didn't even pass!!
The whole world literally became darker, everything fell apart. And so, I'm back to depress mode.
I made a silent pact to myself that I won't cry because of grades. But these eyes kept on spilling tears...
I'm good at hiding my feelings, though they can be overwhelming at times, so I successfully stopped myself from crying. Everybody around me seemed fine. Yeah, they were FINE. I despised the fact that while I sit there, knowing that life took a turn for the worst, they go on and have their lunch as if Calculus was just an easy bump on the road. Well, obviously, it wasn't just a small matter to me. It looked like Mt. Everest, boasting its high peaks in front of my ashamed face.
There. A terrible thing just happened to me. But something worse made it to the center stage.
As I sit there, watching everything go to ruins, I thought that my friends would be my consolation prize. Still, I didn't feel any comfort. Nobody ever said that it's going to be okay. I realized then that the more I convince myself alone, the more I can't believe it. I need someone, anyone to be there---even for just a short period of time. That would've changed something in me.
As I went deeper into my dark day, Calculus seemed a substory . I focused on the fact that my friends weren't there when I needed them the most. I wanted them to be there. More than that, I NEEDED them. I felt alone and sad and disappointed by what I have just experienced and it hurt. I'm already down, and although they didn't exactly do it, they even pushed me to the ground some more, instead of extending a hand. -Sigh- I guess I have to keep this to myself though, I simply don't want complications in life and hey, I just let out my feelings here, NO HOLDS BARRED. So maybe, yeah, I'm ready to forgive then forget. Yeah, I will. But still, I felt down. Very down.
But this entry won't end in a hopeless tone.
God became my last shred of hope. Unlike the disappointment that slapped me across the face earlier, God never turned His back on me. He stayed there. He stayed with me. I wasn't worth that. I've been an irresponsible and hard-headed and stubborn person. But yet HE STAYED. Of all, He didn't give up on the wrecked me. He never took His eyes off me for just a split-second, when He could have. He was there. he loved me despite of all my wrong moves and horrible indecision.
He was the one who kept me SANE. I was on the edge of the cliff. I'm so close to stepping down. But His hand stayed me there. His Love kept me on my feet. His Grace kept me walking.
I LOVE HIM, THAT'S ALL,.
Martes, Oktubre 18, 2011
WOW. UNBELIEVABLE.
I've never been such a fan of Math-it never became one of my elements. In fact, there were times when I really, really despised it. But even though we weren't in such good terms, I found a way to somehow work things out.
But then here's the catch: I HATE MY MATH TEACHER. IT'S NOT BECAUSE HE TEACHES THE SUBJECT I DESPISE. BUT BECAUSE HE SIMPLY MADE IT WORSE.
I tried to be patient. I mean, it is a natural fact that people most of the times get unreasonable. But people, like me, runs out of steam sometimes. Here I was, doing what I shouldn't be doing again: HATING PEOPLE. I mean, it's just so...wrong. As a christian, I was supposed to be different. But what did I do? I got along the roller coaster ride when God would've wanted me to say NO.
Sometimes, it's so easy to let go. Sometimes, it's too easy to just let the chips fall as they are. But what I've learned is that there are always two paths to take: One is easy. And it's only reward is that it's easy. So there. EASY. Nothing else waited for me beyond that path. Maybe it's much the struggle. But deep down, I know that it was worth it.
Okay, going back to the true topic of this entry. Realizations.
Anyway, PATIENCE WILL ALWAYS PAY OFF.
But then here's the catch: I HATE MY MATH TEACHER. IT'S NOT BECAUSE HE TEACHES THE SUBJECT I DESPISE. BUT BECAUSE HE SIMPLY MADE IT WORSE.
I tried to be patient. I mean, it is a natural fact that people most of the times get unreasonable. But people, like me, runs out of steam sometimes. Here I was, doing what I shouldn't be doing again: HATING PEOPLE. I mean, it's just so...wrong. As a christian, I was supposed to be different. But what did I do? I got along the roller coaster ride when God would've wanted me to say NO.
Sometimes, it's so easy to let go. Sometimes, it's too easy to just let the chips fall as they are. But what I've learned is that there are always two paths to take: One is easy. And it's only reward is that it's easy. So there. EASY. Nothing else waited for me beyond that path. Maybe it's much the struggle. But deep down, I know that it was worth it.
Okay, going back to the true topic of this entry. Realizations.
- I was wrong. I didn't live in God's will; I lived in mine, which was very, very wrong any way I look at it.
- I got carried away by the enemy's distractions and I disappointed my Father.
- I got lost in the battle because I let myself be affected. Come on, I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER.
Anyway, PATIENCE WILL ALWAYS PAY OFF.
Linggo, Oktubre 16, 2011
WATCH ME.
Real Steel. I get to watch the movie last Saturday in the cinema. I've seen the trailer when I watched Pirates of the Caribbean, and it was good. Great, even. But the movie didn't send me running to the Internet to see the showing dates. My dad seemed very interested about the movie and so, we ended up watching it.
Ooopppsss...My bad. Turns out Real Steel was awesome and amazing. Here I was, eating my ow words again... The father-son relationship was beautiful. And of course, Hugh Jackman stayed handsome. I just think that his hair's a lot better in X-Men. Just stating facts.
Watch me. That's the line that I loved when Charlie (Jackman's character) was talking to the robot, ATOM (which at first I thought was ADAM. We arrived in the middle of the movie so,...). Atom couldn't hear Charlie's voice commands so he immitated his actions in the last round.
_____________________________________________________________________
While waiting for the movie to restart, I found myself making a scene in my head. I grew up in the family who earns enough. In the society's range, we were in the middle. I wouldn't consider us poor. We're blessed, in this world and in eternity. But then, inside the cinema, I saw a lot of wealthy people. Teenagers of my age, with their parents and DS's...
_____________________________________________________________________
A girl was running barefoot out of those grand doors, holding her heels in her right hand; a man wearing a black suit was paces back, chasing her.
*It's actually hard to tell that imaginary scene in my head unknown so let's name the two: Alex and David.
"Wait Alex, hold up..." David tries to grab her hand, to make her stop, but misses. He tries again, succeeds this time, turning Alex to face him. She tried to break free from his grasp. "I have to go, David."
"I won't let you go until you tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong. I just have to go..."
"Something is wrong. Tell me."
"Because I...I don't belong."
"What?! Why are you saying that?"
Silence.
"Tell me why, Alex."
...
"WHY?"
"The same old why, David. Because I don't belong in your world. Because I'm afraid I won't fit in. Because I don't want you to get hurt. Because I don't see you in my world. Because I seriously can't picture us together, just the two of us. Because I love you. And I know that's frightfully wrong."
END OF IMAGINATION.
____________________________________________________________________
And then the trailers starts. I'm back to reality once again.
Yeah, my mind goes under these glitches at times...
Ooopppsss...My bad. Turns out Real Steel was awesome and amazing. Here I was, eating my ow words again... The father-son relationship was beautiful. And of course, Hugh Jackman stayed handsome. I just think that his hair's a lot better in X-Men. Just stating facts.
Watch me. That's the line that I loved when Charlie (Jackman's character) was talking to the robot, ATOM (which at first I thought was ADAM. We arrived in the middle of the movie so,...). Atom couldn't hear Charlie's voice commands so he immitated his actions in the last round.
_____________________________________________________________________
While waiting for the movie to restart, I found myself making a scene in my head. I grew up in the family who earns enough. In the society's range, we were in the middle. I wouldn't consider us poor. We're blessed, in this world and in eternity. But then, inside the cinema, I saw a lot of wealthy people. Teenagers of my age, with their parents and DS's...
_____________________________________________________________________
A girl was running barefoot out of those grand doors, holding her heels in her right hand; a man wearing a black suit was paces back, chasing her.
*It's actually hard to tell that imaginary scene in my head unknown so let's name the two: Alex and David.
"Wait Alex, hold up..." David tries to grab her hand, to make her stop, but misses. He tries again, succeeds this time, turning Alex to face him. She tried to break free from his grasp. "I have to go, David."
"I won't let you go until you tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong. I just have to go..."
"Something is wrong. Tell me."
"Because I...I don't belong."
"What?! Why are you saying that?"
Silence.
"Tell me why, Alex."
...
"WHY?"
"The same old why, David. Because I don't belong in your world. Because I'm afraid I won't fit in. Because I don't want you to get hurt. Because I don't see you in my world. Because I seriously can't picture us together, just the two of us. Because I love you. And I know that's frightfully wrong."
END OF IMAGINATION.
____________________________________________________________________
And then the trailers starts. I'm back to reality once again.
Yeah, my mind goes under these glitches at times...
Sabado, Oktubre 15, 2011
What I Just Realized.
Stephen King. One of the most-revered writers, of all-time, I guess. I never read any one of his works, actually. But his name would always ring a bell. WHO WAS HIM, ANYWAY?? All I know is that he is a famous writer. End of story. But then, here I was, sitting in front of my computer without any particular thing to do. The next thing I know is that I opened a tab that lead to my favorite search engine. I typed one of his works: The Shining. Oh, now I remembered how Stephen King came in to view.
I forgot my blogspot password so I decided to send the information to my Yahoo mail which of course, lead to the Yahoo homepage. Lady Gaga's performance was the first of the headlines. The next was about America's Most Haunted Hotels. Intrigued, I clicked the link and read my way to the bottom of the page. Unsatisfied, I searched for more haunted hotels until I found a site wherein one of the featured hotels inspired STEPHEN KING to write a novel about that place. Half of it was done inside one of the hotel's rooms.
Then that was it. I looked up the novel in Google and read the whole plot. Okay, it was horror. The truth is, I was never a fan of anything horror. In my own perspective, it'd be senseless to waste money on the things that would only leave you with sleepless nights, along with that, eyebags. But Stephen King's work sounded very imaginative. I looked up more of his works and read the plot of the few such as The Girl who Loved Tom Gordon, Salem's Lot, Gerald's Game and Carrie, King's first work whose plot turned out to be yes, scary but also promising in a way.
I have only read the plots of a few of his works but I already arrived with a conclusion: A HORROR WRITER. I don't know, I just...Geeessshhh... Stephen King didn't turn out to be what I expected. I thought he was supposed to be a suspense-thriller writer. Well, suspense is present on horror genres, right? I just thought that he'd be more focused on killers and crime scenes. Not vampires and girls who could mess up the prom and the whole town as well.
Since I never really took a time to see who Stephen King was, I think it was just right to arrive at the fact that I never realized the worlds that Stephen King made. Anyway, now I know. That doesn't change the fact that he is not my favorite writer.
Well, what do I want, anyway?? I guess I don't focus much on any particular genre. It depends on my mood, and how the writer keeps me turning the pages of the book. Maybe, someday, I get to read one of his works and realize that he really is a great writer. SOMEDAY.
I forgot my blogspot password so I decided to send the information to my Yahoo mail which of course, lead to the Yahoo homepage. Lady Gaga's performance was the first of the headlines. The next was about America's Most Haunted Hotels. Intrigued, I clicked the link and read my way to the bottom of the page. Unsatisfied, I searched for more haunted hotels until I found a site wherein one of the featured hotels inspired STEPHEN KING to write a novel about that place. Half of it was done inside one of the hotel's rooms.
Then that was it. I looked up the novel in Google and read the whole plot. Okay, it was horror. The truth is, I was never a fan of anything horror. In my own perspective, it'd be senseless to waste money on the things that would only leave you with sleepless nights, along with that, eyebags. But Stephen King's work sounded very imaginative. I looked up more of his works and read the plot of the few such as The Girl who Loved Tom Gordon, Salem's Lot, Gerald's Game and Carrie, King's first work whose plot turned out to be yes, scary but also promising in a way.
I have only read the plots of a few of his works but I already arrived with a conclusion: A HORROR WRITER. I don't know, I just...Geeessshhh... Stephen King didn't turn out to be what I expected. I thought he was supposed to be a suspense-thriller writer. Well, suspense is present on horror genres, right? I just thought that he'd be more focused on killers and crime scenes. Not vampires and girls who could mess up the prom and the whole town as well.
Since I never really took a time to see who Stephen King was, I think it was just right to arrive at the fact that I never realized the worlds that Stephen King made. Anyway, now I know. That doesn't change the fact that he is not my favorite writer.
Well, what do I want, anyway?? I guess I don't focus much on any particular genre. It depends on my mood, and how the writer keeps me turning the pages of the book. Maybe, someday, I get to read one of his works and realize that he really is a great writer. SOMEDAY.
Huwebes, Hulyo 14, 2011
A DARK BROWN DOG by Stephen Crane
A Child was standing on a street-corner. He leaned with one shoulder against a high board-fence and swayed the other to and fro, the while kicking carelessly at the gravel.
Sunshine beat upon the cobbles, and a lazy summer wind raised yellow dust which trailed in clouds down the avenue. Clattering trucks moved with indistinctness through it. The child stood dreamily gazing.
After a time, a little dark-brown dog came trotting with an intent air down the sidewalk. A short rope was dragging from his neck. Occasionally he trod upon the end of it and stumbled.
He stopped opposite the child, and the two regarded each other. The dog hesitated for a moment, but presently he made some little advances with his tail. The child put out his hand and called him. In an apologetic manner the dog came close, and the two had an interchange of friendly pattings and waggles. The dog became more enthusiastic with each moment of the interview, until with his gleeful caperings he threatened to overturn the child. Whereupon the child lifted his hand and struck the dog a blow upon the head.
This thing seemed to overpower and astonish the little dark-brown dog, and wounded him to the heart. He sank down in despair at the child's feet. When the blow was repeated, together with an admonition in childish sentences, he turned over upon his back, and held his paws in a peculiar manner. At the same time with his ears and his eyes he offered a small prayer to the child.
He looked so comical on his back, and holding his paws peculiarly, that the child was greatly amused and gave him little taps repeatedly, to keep him so. But the little dark-brown dog took this chastisement in the most serious way, and no doubt considered that he had committed some grave crime, for he wriggled contritely and showed his repentance in every way that was in his power. He pleaded with the child and petitioned him, and offered more prayers.
At last the child grew weary of this amusement and turned toward home. The dog was praying at the time. He lay on his back and turned his eyes upon the retreating form.
Presently he struggled to his feet and started after the child. The latter wandered in a perfunctory way toward his home, stopping at times to investigate various matters. During one of these pauses he discovered the little dark-brown dog who was following him with the air of a footpad.
The child beat his pursuer with a small stick he had found. The dog lay down and prayed until the child had finished, and resumed his journey. Then he scrambled erect and took up the pursuit again.
On the way to his home the child turned many times and beat the dog, proclaiming with childish gestures that he held him in contempt as an unimportant dog, with no value save for a moment. For being this quality of animal the dog apologized and eloquently expressed regret, but he continued stealthily to follow the child. His manner grew so very guilty that he slunk like an assassin.
When the child reached his door-step, the dog was industriously ambling a few yards in the rear. He became so agitated with shame when he again confronted the child that he forgot the dragging rope. He tripped upon it and fell forward.
The child sat down on the step and the two had another interview. During it the dog greatly exerted himself to please the child. He performed a few gambols with such abandon that the child suddenly saw him to be a valuable thing. He made a swift, avaricious charge and seized the rope.
He dragged his captive into a hall and up many long stairways in a dark tenement. The dog made willing efforts, but he could not hobble very skilfully up the stairs because he was very small and soft, and at last the pace of the engrossed child grew so energetic that the dog became panic-stricken. In his mind he was being dragged toward a grim unknown. His eyes grew wild with the terror of it. He began to wiggle his head frantically and to brace his legs.
The child redoubled his exertions. They had a battle on the stairs. The child was victorious because he was completely absorbed in his purpose, and because the dog was very small. He dragged his acquirement to the door of his home, and finally with triumph across the threshold.
No one was in. The child sat down on the floor and made overtures to the dog. These the dog instantly accepted. He beamed with affection upon his new friend. In a short time they were firm and abiding comrades.
When the child's family appeared, they made a great row. The dog was examined and commented upon and called names. Scorn was leveled at him from all eyes, so that he became much embarrassed and drooped like a scorched plant. But the child went sturdily to the center of the floor, and, at the top of his voice, championed the dog. It happened that he was roaring protestations, with his arms clasped about the dog's neck, when the father of the family came in from work.
The parent demanded to know what the blazes they were making the kid howl for. It was explained in many words that the infernal kid wanted to introduce a disreputable dog into the family.
A family council was held. On this depended the dog's fate, but he in no way heeded, being busily engaged in chewing the end of the child's dress.
The affair was quickly ended. The father of the family, it appears, was in a particularly savage temper that evening, and when he perceived that it would amaze and anger everybody if such a dog were allowed to remain, he decided that it should be so. The child, crying softly, took his friend off to a retired part of the room to hobnob with him, while the father quelled a fierce rebellion of his wife. So it came to pass that the dog was a member of the household.
He and the child were associated together at all times save when the child slept. The child became a guardian and a friend. If the large folk kicked the dog and threw things at him, the child made loud and violent objections. Once when the child had run, protesting loudly, with tears raining down his face and his arms outstretched, to protect his friend, he had been struck in the head with a very large saucepan from the hand of his father, enraged at some seeming lack of courtesy in the dog. Ever after, the family were careful how they threw things at the dog. Moreover, the latter grew very skilful in avoiding missiles and feet. In a small room containing a stove, a table, a bureau and some chairs, he would display strategic ability of a high order, dodging, feinting and scuttling about among the furniture. He could force three or four people armed with brooms, sticks and handfuls of coal, to use all their ingenuity to get in a blow. And even when they did, it was seldom that they could do him a serious injury or leave any imprint.
But when the child was present, these scenes did not occur. It came to be recognized that if the dog was molested, the child would burst into sobs, and as the child, when started, was very riotous and practically unquenchable, the dog had therein a safeguard.
However, the child could not always be near. At night, when he was asleep, his dark-brown friend would raise from some black corner a wild, wailful cry, a song of infinite lowliness and despair, that would go shuddering and sobbing among the buildings of the block and cause people to swear. At these times the singer would often be chased all over the kitchen and hit with a great variety of articles.
Sometimes, too, the child himself used to beat the dog, although it is not known that he ever had what could be truly called a just cause. The dog always accepted these thrashings with an air of admitted guilt. He was too much of a dog to try to look to be a martyr or to plot revenge. He received the blows with deep humility, and furthermore he forgave his friend the moment the child had finished, and was ready to caress the child's hand with his little red tongue.
When misfortune came upon the child, and his troubles overwhelmed him, he would often crawl under the table and lay his small distressed head on the dog's back. The dog was ever sympathetic. It is not to be supposed that at such times he took occasion to refer to the unjust beatings his friend, when provoked, had administered to him.
He did not achieve any notable degree of intimacy with the other members of the family. He had no confidence in them, and the fear that he would express at their casual approach often exasperated them exceedingly. They used to gain a certain satisfaction in underfeeding him, but finally his friend the child grew to watch the matter with some care, and when he forgot it, the dog was often successful in secret for himself.
So the dog prospered. He developed a large bark, which came wondrously from such a small rug of a dog. He ceased to howl persistently at night. Sometimes, indeed, in his sleep, he would utter little yells, as from pain, but that occurred, no doubt, when in his dreams he encountered huge flaming dogs who threatened him direfully.
His devotion to the child grew until it was a sublime thing. He wagged at his approach; he sank down in despair at his departure. He could detect the sound of the child's step among all the noises of the neighborhood. It was like a calling voice to him.
The scene of their companionship was a kingdom governed by this terrible potentate, the child; but neither criticism nor rebellion ever lived for an instant in the heart of the one subject. Down in the mystic, hidden fields of his little dog-soul bloomed flowers of love and fidelity and perfect faith.
The child was in the habit of going on many expeditions to observe strange things in the vicinity. On these occasions his friend usually jogged aimfully along behind. Perhaps, though, he went ahead. This necessitated his turning around every quarter-minute to make sure the child was coming. He was filled with a large idea of the importance of these journeys. He would carry himself with such an air! He was proud to be the retainer of so great a monarch.
One day, however, the father of the family got quite exceptionally drunk. He came home and held carnival with the cooking utensils, the furniture and his wife. He was in the midst of this recreation when the child, followed by the dark-brown dog, entered the room. They were returning from their voyages.
The child's practised eye instantly noted his father's state. He dived under the table, where experience had taught him was a rather safe place. The dog, lacking skill in such matters, was, of course, unaware of the true condition of affairs. He looked with interested eyes at his friend's sudden dive. He interpreted it to mean: Joyous gambol. He started to patter across the floor to join him. He was the picture of a little dark-brown dog en route to a friend.
The head of the family saw him at this moment. He gave a huge howl of joy, and knocked the dog down with a heavy coffee-pot. The dog, yelling in supreme astonishment and fear, writhed to his feet and ran for cover. The man kicked out with a ponderous foot. It caused the dog to swerve as if caught in a tide. A second blow of the coffee-pot laid him upon the floor.
Here the child, uttering loud cries, came valiantly forth like a knight. The father of the family paid no attention to these calls of the child, but advanced with glee upon the dog. Upon being knocked down twice in swift succession, the latter apparently gave up all hope of escape. He rolled over on his back and held his paws in a peculiar manner. At the same time with his eyes and his ears he offered up a small prayer.
But the father was in a mood for having fun, and it occurred to him that it would be a fine thing to throw the dog out of the window. So he reached down and grabbing the animal by a leg, lifted him, squirming, up. He swung him two or three times hilariously about his head, and then flung him with great accuracy through the window.
The soaring dog created a surprise in the block. A woman watering plants in an opposite window gave an involuntary shout and dropped a flower-pot. A man in another window leaned perilously out to watch the flight of the dog. A woman, who had been hanging out clothes in a yard, began to caper wildly. Her mouth was filled with clothes-pins, but her arms gave vent to a sort of exclamation. In appearance she was like a gagged prisoner. Children ran whooping.
The dark-brown body crashed in a heap on the roof of a shed five stories below. From thence it rolled to the pavement of an alleyway.
The child in the room far above burst into a long, dirgelike cry, and toddled hastily out of the room. It took him a long time to reach the alley, because his size compelled him to go downstairs backward, one step at a time, and holding with both hands to the step above.
When they came for him later, they found him seated by the body of his dark-brown friend.
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