Monday, July 31, 2006

I MISS MY PANDA BEAR
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I've been pretty busy now that I am handling BOTH my current (and soon to end) job at ABS-CBN Global Limited and our family business (Medical Transcription!!!) and when a small family thing added to the "urgent" list, suddenly I find myself having to wake up really early and head straight home after work for the last two weeks. And sadly, it seems, for the next two weeks too.

This means I haven't been able to see Isha, which is a terrible terrible thing indeed.

Thankfully, she's been understanding. And on some days finds it favorable enough (considering the horrible wet weather we have been having) to come by my office and join me for lunch.

Weekends, we make the most of the day when we can, going about, watching movies, spending time together or with our friends and family. We saw the Lindsey Lohan movie with the guy who looks like a western Zanjoe Marudo (Just my Luck, I think the title was) and laughed our hearts out at this young little tyke who loved to sing and dance with the McFlys (who were featured prominently in the movie. Tangent: Did you know they stripped naked for a concert at G-A-Y quite recently? And no, turns out they are a real band. The whole time, Isha and I thought they were just actors and that one of them was the boy who played Neville in Harry Potter!)

Anyway, I miss my Panda Bear dearly. Tremendously. And sadly, I am in such a horrific mood that I am worried if we see each other at the wrong time, I might end up frustrating her and ending up causing a fight. The stress is making me horribly lousy. Add to that the cramps and the dizziness, I feel really really unsociable lately at times.

Still, life has its good things. And hearing from Isha is one of them. She sends me text messages that contain the sweetest things. And reminds me to smile when the days get rough.

I love you so much, Isha.
Thank you for letting me be part of your life.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

IT IS STRANGE TO SEE MYSELF ON VIDEO
Yep. Here's the DIGITAL TOUR feature on the New World's Alliance event.
And yes, I was interviewed.

Thanks to Gabe and Rejjventress for the link!

RAINING HARD LATELY
But what has been harder is the workload I've been handling both at ABS-CBN Global and at our family's business. Because this has lead to me having considerably less free time to see my Panda Bear. I miss her so much.

Buti na lang I lend her my Playstation 2. She's happily enjoying Kingdom Hearts and Katamary Damacy. Am happy she's enjoying the games.

Still miss her a lot though.

Monday, July 24, 2006

105

Seen over 80 movies = you have no life.
Got this from Jonas' blog. Let's see....

Mark the ones you've seen. There are 168 movie titles on this list. Put your score in header and repost.

( ) Rocky Horror Picture Show
(x) Grease
(x) Pirates of the Caribbean
( ) Boondock Saints
(x) Fight Club
(x) Starsky and Hutch
(x) Neverending Story
( ) Blazing Saddles
(x) Airplane
( ) My First Mister
( ) The Virgin Suicides

Total: 6/11

(x) The Princess Bride
( ) AnchorMan: The Legend of Ron Burgandy
(x) Napoleon Dynamite
(x) Labyrinth
(x) Saw
( ) Saw II
( ) White Noise
( ) White Oleander
(x) Anger Management
(x) 50 First Dates
( ) The Princess Diaries
( ) The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement

Total: 6/12

(x) Scream
( ) Scream 2
( ) Scream 3
( ) Scary Movie
( ) Scary Movie 2
( ) Scary Movie 3
(x) Scary Movie 4
(x) American Pie
(x) American Pie 2
(x) American Wedding
( ) American Pie Band Camp

Total: 5/11

(x) Harry Potter
(x) Harry Potter 2
(x) Harry Potter 3
(x) Harry Potter 4
(x) Resident Evil I
(x) Resident Evil 2
(x) The Wedding Singer
( ) Little Black Book
(x) The Village
( ) Lilo & Stitch

Total: 8/10

(x) Finding Nemo
(x) Finding Neverland
(s) Signs
( ) The Grinch
( ) Texas Chainsaw Massacre
(x) White Chicks
(x) Butterfly Effect
(x) 13 Going on 30
(x) I, Robot
( ) Robots

Total: 7/10

( ) Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story
(x) Universal Soldier
( ) Lemony Snicket: A Series Of Unfortunate Events
( ) Along Came Polly
(x) Deep Impact
( ) KingPin
(x) Never Been Kissed
(x) Meet The Parents
(x) Meet the Fockers
( ) Eight Crazy Nights
( ) Joe Dirt
(x) King Kong

Total: 6/12

( ) A Cinderella Story
(x) The Terminal
( ) The Lizzie McGuire Movie
( ) Passport to Paris
(x) Dumb & Dumber
( ) Dumber & Dumberer
( ) Final Destination
( ) Final Destination 2
( ) Final Destination 3
(x) Halloween
(x) The Ring
(x) The Ring 2
( ) Surviving X-MAS
(x) Flubber

Total: 6/14

( ) Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle
(x) Practical Magic
(x) Chicago
(x) Ghost Ship
(x) From Hell
(x) Hellboy
(x) Secret Window
(x) I Am Sam
(x) The Whole Nine Yards

Total: 8/9

(x) The Day After Tomorrow
(x) Child's Play
( ) Seed of Chucky
( ) Bride of Chucky
(x) Ten Things I Hate About You
( ) Just Married
(x) Gothika
(x) Nightmare on Elm Street
(x) Sixteen Candles
( ) Remember the Titans
( ) Coach Carter
(x) The Grudge
(x) the Mask
( ) Son Of The Mask

Total: 8/14

(x) Bad Boys 2
(x) Joy Ride
(x) Se7en
(x) Ocean's Eleven
( ) Ocean's Twelve
(x) Identity
( ) Lone Star
(x) Bedazzled
(x) Predator I
(x) Predator II
( ) The Fog
(x) Ice Age
( ) Ice Age 2: The Meltdown

Total: 9/13

(x) Independence Day
(x) Cujo
( ) A Bronx Tale
(x) Darkness Falls
(x) ET
(x) Children of the Corn
( ) My Boss' Daughter
(x) Maid in Manhattan
( ) Frailty
(x) War of the Worlds
(x) Rush Hour
(x) Rush Hour 2

Total: 9/12

( ) Best Bet
(x) How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days
(x) She's All That
( ) Calendar Girls
(x) Sideways
(x) Mars Attacks
(x) Event Horizon
( ) Ever After
(x) Forrest Gump
(x) Big Trouble in Little China
(x) The Terminator
(x) Terminator 2

Total: 9/12

(x) X-Men
(x) X2
(x) Spider-Man
(x) Spider-Man 2
(x) Sky High
( ) Jeepers Creepers
( ) Jeepers Creepers 2
(x) Catch Me If You Can
(x) The Others
(x) Freaky Friday
(x) Reign of Fire
(x) Cruel Intentions
( ) Cruel Intentions 2
( ) Cruel Intentions 3
(x) The Hot Chick
(x) Shrek
(x) Shrek 2

Total: 13/17

(x) Swimfan
( ) Miracle
( ) Old School
( ) The Notebook
( ) K-Pax
(x) Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
(x) Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
(x) Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
(x) A Walk to Remember
( ) Boogeyman
( ) The 40-year-old-virgin

Total: 5/11

GRAND TOTAL: 105/168
I have no life.
DID ANYONE TAPE THE DIGITAL TOUR SEGMENT?
I was seen by a friend, Obsidiax, ranting on Studio23's coverage of the New World's Alliance Sci-Fi convention!! Eekk... Too bad I missed it. Did anyone catch it or better yet record it?

I wonder if they cut it and still kept my message intact?
Simple Destiny
At the beginning, it was actually quite simple.
Melissa and James were in love. Passionately. Lustfully. Insanely. It was mushy. It was torrid. It was disgusting how much the two were in love. They started their relationship with laughter and climbing trees and they progressed to holding hands and long warm hugs before they realized how much they were beginning to like each other.
But as everyone knows, love never stays simple.

It was on the seventh of June, during a sudden downpour of unexpected rain, when Melissa discovered she was pregnant. It wasn’t something she learned after realizing she was already two months delayed. Nor was it an awareness born from a bout of morning sickness. Instead, she was in her bed still swimming in the siren’s call of slipping back into sleep when the sudden understand just dawned upon her.

Pregnant. And the thing was, she never had sex.

James, however, was certain that was not true. At least not entirely. James and Melissa had their moments together in the many weeks they had been going out. On those odd nights when Melissa was too tired to head home, James willingly offered her a space to sleep in his apartment. She trusted him and he knew she could trust him; he was raised to see the act of copulation as something best done after marriage. But still, they did cross certain lines. From what started as curious and lustful touching slowly progressed to varying states of undress and eventually, the act of discovering how sensual a mouth can be when applied to the right places in the human body. Or rather, to any part of the human body.

So yes, it could be said she was technically no longer a virgin.
But it was also certain that they never crossed that particular line.

“Are you certain,” James asked though the way he said it made it sound more like a statement of worry than a question. Melissa nodded slowly although she knew it was impossible. “But that’s impossible,” James agreed with her without realizing it and pushed away the question if it were possible it was with someone else. That, James knew, was something Melissa would never do.

“I know. We both know it is,” Melissa found herself realizing that contrary to how it was always portrayed in television soaps, she was not on the verge of tears. Nor was she hysterically weepy and yearning for a promise to be taken care of. Perhaps it was the oddity of it all that caught her focus more than anything.

“Have you…” James began and Melissa turned to him with a face that betrayed she was aghast that he would even ask the question she thought he was about to say. She was mistaken. “… have you had a doctor confirm it?”

“Not yet,” Melissa admitted and James shook his head. There was no other answer after all. A woman does not get delayed for two months without good reason. James could not recall reading anything about ovaries just shutting off for a two-week vacation.

“Maybe we-“

“We should,” Melissa nodded and bit her lower lip. She inhaled and began to ask, “Are you-“

“I will go with you,” James answered, not bothering to let her finish, “And if it so happens you are. Then. I guess. We will find a way to raise it.”

Melissa could not find the words to respond. All she could do was reach out and wrap her arms around James’ neck. The two kissed softly. Then passionately. Then felt the first hint of tears finally come.

When they arrived at the doctor’s office, both found themselves feeling less surreal about the whole situation they were in. Perhaps it was shock. Or perhaps it was denial. What was certain what that neither seemed to be worrying or preoccupied with worry at that precise moment. James was gently running his hand through Melissa’s hair. Melissa, on the other hand, was slowly stroking her belly. It was not swollen, though. But Melissa could not help but sense she was right.

The doctor, a tall fellow with glasses that seemed to keep slipping off his thin and droopy nose, showed them inside, asked them to fill up some forms, then ran the necessary tests. Melissa giggled a few times when she realized James seemed more excited to know if it were possible to know if the child was a guy or a girl.

“It is too early to tell, you realize,” the doctor explained and James realized he was most likely being mistaken by the doctor to be the child’s father.

“When can we know?” James asked.

“The test shouldn’t take too long. There are some home pregnancy tests that take-“

”The child,” James corrected him, “When can we know if its male of female?”
The doctor merely smiled.

The confirmation of the pregnancy brought an unexpected surge of excitement into James and Melissa’s life. All of the sudden, the two realized they wanted to get married. To raise the child together as a proper husband and wife would. Uncharacteristically of James, he suddenly was proud he had quit smoking a few years ago. And that he no longer was interested in drinking or leaving the country. “I could take care of the kid with you, so you actually can get some rest during the early months. I heard babies barely sleep during those months.”

“Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves,” Melissa teased James and placed his hand on her barely rotund belly. “Are you serious about getting married?”

“Absolutely,” James kissed her stomach and dropped to one knee. He smiled at her and returned the question, “Are you?”

“I do,” was all Melissa had to reply.

Their parents transformed into a circus act. As expected, both sides at first argued whose fault the pregnancy was. Neither were willing to accept that James and Melissa never had actual intercourse. As expected, Melissa’s parents called James many horrible things. James’ parents, on the other hand, accused Melissa of attempting to steal their son away by getting herself pregnant. It would take a miracle for them to make them understand.

The Angel Gabriel appeared before them in an eruption of golden flame and cold gusts of wind. Overcome by the divine entity’s presence, all fell silent and stared at the celestial messenger with awe and disbelief in their eyes.

“I bring you a message, Melissa-” the angel began only to hear James and Melissa already yelling in response, “We are ready!” The angel actually smirked in amusement then faded to return the good news to his superior.

By the fourth month, Melissa and James were thankful that their parents have both finally opened their hearts to the presence of a grandchild to their family. Though neither seemed to clearly remember the visitation, James and Melissa clearly recalled the divine visitation of the winged angel. Though Melissa could not help but imagine the great deeds their child were to someday share with the world, James began to remember the persecution and anguish that the last Savior was made to endure.

“Mel,” James tried to find a way to state it without sounding wrong, “I’ve been thinking.”

“I know,” Melissa replied, already finding the train of thought she knew James would take. James was always the worry-wart in their relationship. He was always the one who planned ahead and looked far beyond the now. “And I think ultimately, it is all part of God’s design. It is not our place to question it-” her voice broke and James took her into his arms and tried to calm her down by humming their song into her ear. “It will be all right,” he whispered to her as he stroked her hair back and gently rocked them both as if they were dancing, “It will all be all right in the end.”

Both were already imagining the painful anguish of their child’s eventual persecution and crucifixion. And both felt for the first time the pangs of uncertainty between them.

The baby already had a crib, a walker trainer, three large cans worth of powdered milk, two boxes of baby powder and baby oil, three months supply of disposable diapers and twelve bottles of varying sizes, colors, and nipples ready by the time the sixth month came along. Not wanting to surprise themselves if the next Savior was to be a man or a woman, James and Melissa insisted that no one be told of the child’s gender. This, however, did not deter their parents from purchasing a matching pair of everything they had gotten. Blue and pink curtains awaited being hung in the nursery room. Stuff toys of
animals and dolls were separated in two piles. As were varying clothes, colored cloth gloves and pillow cases.

The parents even had a huge list of names ready. James suspected they probably had researched through at least four Baby Name books before narrowing their selection to the list of ten names the four soon-to-be-grandparents had gathered.

“Mother,” Melissa mumbled at her mother-in-law whom she had bonded quite closely with months ago during the wedding preparations, “You did not have to.”

“Don’t be foolish. Of course we want the child to have everything in the world it would want,” the mother-in-law replied, “That is after all not just your child. It is also Savior for the coming Judgment day.”

“Do you really believe it would happen that way?” Melissa asked her mother-in-law as she took the package of Barney and Barbie blankets and set them aside by the floor.

“Of course,” Melissa’s mother proudly replied, “You are the mother of the Second Coming! Some day, you will be among those the thousands of people pray to for guidance and strength.”

Her old fears resurfaced.
“Did you ever worry,” Melissa carefully paced the question, “What we should do if the people… well… if the people choose to kill him?”

“Him!” the mother-in-law exclaimed, “Sus Mio! Is it a boy?”

“Well, no..”

“Her!” the mother-in-law turned pale, “The next Christos is a woman?”

“No,” Melissa shook her head, “Well, maybe, the point is we don’t really know. We chose not to be told, remember? My question, Mama, was if the people ever-”

“You should have asked the doctor,” the mother-in-law interrupted and began a very lengthy and passionate explanation on how important it was for a mother to know if the child was male or female before it was born. Melissa droned out most of it as she stared at the distant horizon and found herself suddenly worrying about tomorrow.

James was not having it any easier.


Having found a small amount of time to hang out with his friends; the group loved to play basketball during the day. On some nights, the group would drag James and Melissa with them for a night of singing and feasting.

James found himself seemingly interrogated with the usual foray of questions an expectant father would hear. From the usual “How is the wife?” to “How is the child?” the questions made the expected progress to “When is the baby due?” to “What names to you have in mind” before an hour was over. By the second hour, however, James found himself receiving a line of questions he was not prepared to answer. Or hear.

“The Second coming eh? So how do you feel about your kid and your wife becoming immortalized in cathedrals and the like? Was Joseph ever popular enough?”

“Did she have some kind of nocturnal dream of an angel entering her?”

“What if it turns out to be gay. Will you stop preparing him to be the next Savior?”

James did not realize how much the questions affected him until he accidentally passed the ball far too hard towards another friend. The friend in question dropped to his knees and muttered something about wishing he too would someday still have children.



“Guys, can we not talk about it while I’m here. Its rare enough that I get to go out for a night with you all, does it really have to spent talking about those things?” James pleaded and took the ball back from his friend who caught it with his throat.

“Sorry man,” a friend apologized, “Just thought you should think about things carefully. So you are ready in case it ever happens? Did not mean to rifle your feathers.”

James was already past expecting apologies from anyone. As far as he was concerned, people tended to forget that when an event states RSVP, it was to the best interests of the guests to announce whether or not they could make it. The last minute changes guests would ALWAYS as for was frustrating if not down right annoying. But in this case, the questions James’ friends were asking seemed to be a tad too… personal.

“Let’s just not talk about it,” James shook his head and returned to the basket ball game.

By the eight month, Melissa finally noticed the sweater James had lent her was too tight to wear every day. The roundess of Melissa’s belly was enough that even passers-by noticed now and congratulated her. Melissa never felt so bloated and fat in her entire life, and yet so happy at the same time.

“What did your gyno said,” a doctor asked them more out of procedure than anything.

“Is there something wrong?” James asked as Melissa worried that something had happened to the baby. Or to his wife.

“No no no, of course not, the doctor reassured them, “Actually I was more worried you’d say something else.”

“I see,” the James replied and gave Melissa another tight hug from behind.

But it had begun. Small worries that had grown larger each passing day. Unspoken concerns that simply bore into their relationship and ate upon their stability. There were those instances of insecurity that James struggled to ignore. And the terrible nightmares of what their child were most likely to endure once his divine role in the world was made known. Every faith in the world would rise up in arms against them. Every government in the world would seek to control them, if not remove them before they rose far too much in prominence to be removed. The media would vilify them, or support them before using the gained trust and closeness as a marketing means to generate more advertising. And yet somehow, when James and Melissa caught each other’s eyes while these thoughts raged within them, the voices of dissent and worry would quiet down. The fear and uncertainty faded away like old hatred. Or long-ago betrayals of the heart.

“You think there would be a star,” James mused aloud once and Melissa giggled at the thought, “Imagine the scientific community going wild over such a scientific astronomical anomaly.”

“That would be what they would call it,” James laughed and looked out the window to check if there was one. Finding the sky clear save for the expected constellations and an airplane that flew overhead, he slid back the blinds and sat down beside Melissa. Sliding his arms around her from behind, he brought his hands back from past her armpits to cup the back of her head. “Not too tight?” he asked her, worried his embrace was painful or too strong.

“Just right,” Melissa smiled and wiggled her toes. She did not expect her feet to get this sore so quickly each day, “Honey, I’ve been thinking.” James remained silent and listened to her intently, “What if our child does not want to be the next God as man upon earth. What if he would rather be a doctor? Or a writer? Or a reality television celebrity?”

“I guess-“ James carefully chose his words.

Melissa waited patiently for him to finish.

He had hoped she’d interrupt him. Forced to finish his words, he added, “-when that time comes, we will sense what we should do. After all, this is God’s child upon earth we are talking about. I don’t think God would simply abandon him to do what he liked.”

“He or she,” Melissa corrected him.

“He or she liked,” James repeated then slid his hands from behind her head to follow the length of her arms. Interlocking his fingers over her swollen belly, he gently tapped the skin and hoped the child would kick in response. The unborn child did not.

“Does that mean we no longer have our freedom?” Melissa suddenly asked. James felt her whole body sigh. He glanced at her from behind but all he could see was that she was not looking at him.

“Not exactly,” he tried to give an answer but realized in his heart he did not know, “I guess we will find out for certain. When the time comes.”

And when the time indeed came, neither of them found the answer. Neither of them would ever have the chance to discover what their child would be like. Neither of them ever realized that the journey their story took was not bound to reach the ending they anticipated.

For when James and Melissa arrived home that night, they found nothing amiss as they stepped into their house. James slowly brought the car to a stop and helped Melissa step down. The two carefully walked up the steps to the door and shared a silent laugh at having such a lovely dinner that night. James drew the key from his pocket and unlocked the door just as Melissa reached for the morning paper they had both neglected to pick up earlier in the day.

And the explosion that rocked the place where James and Melissa once lived was said to be so strong that it shattered the windows of houses four blocks away. Some claim that the street actually rumbled so much that cars were flung a foot from the ground. Perhaps the truest testament to the explosive’s strength was the presence of a crater four meters wide and four meters deep. And the fact that neither of them left any remains to be identified.

Still, the stories persist. The rumors have not ended. And even after many years have passed, some still believe that somewhere out there, James and Melissa were still alive with their newborn child. Perhaps they had escaped away because of a secret they had to hide. Or perhaps they were victim to an awful act of terrorism. Maybe they were the unlucky souls that happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.
What is known, however, is that in the end, the whole community gathered to observe the final rites that were offered even if their bodies were never recovered. And that a secret benefactor covered for all the expenses for the funeral, the burial of the symbolic coffins and for the series of prayers that were to be offered in their names for the weeks to come.
James and Melissa and their unborn child were dead.

And it was said that when they arrived at the gates that stood between the land of the living and the hereafter, James and Melissa found themselves facing the same angel that visited them so many months ago. And the angel, it was said, shook its head in dismay.

“I was going to tell you they made a mistake,” the angel said, “But I guess it could have been worse?”

“Are you kidding?” James told the angel only to have Melissa complete his sentence for him, “What more could we have ever asked for?”

The angel looked at them in surprise.

“We lived happy,” Melissa began and James completed, “And we died happy. And now we are to be forever together. With our child who shall have all the time to be with his parents. What more could we ever ask for?”

The angel looked confused. “But what about-“ the angel began to ask.

“We’re sure it was all part of His plan,” James teased and wrapped his arm around Melissa’s shoulder.

“How do you even know for certain?” the angel asked.

“We’re about to find out,” was all they said in reply before stepping through the gates and making their way towards whatever lay ahead knowing full well that it was bound to be something worth the journey to say the least.

- the end -

Simple Destiny was my entry to the Neil Gaiman sponsored 1st Philippine Graphic/Fiction Awards. Didn't make the cut, but am happy with how I wrote it. The ending feels kind of rushed though.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

WISH ME LUCK
Details to follow soon.
But for now, know it is all about this.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

fiction:
SMOKE

He lights his twenty-seventh cigarette for the evening and ignores the fact that his fingers are already yellow from the nicotine and tar. The stale smell of cigarette smoke hangs around him like a perfume. I ignore the stink and focus instead on what I came here to do. I close my eyes as the match flares and steadies into a slightly dancing flame. The strong tang of the matchstick mixes with the haze.

"So, tell me more about yourself," I try to smile as I talk but I still feel like I shouldn't be here. The man before me was not someone whom I felt was worth being given additional attention. Not after what he had done to them. Done to the three women who were important in his life prior to being locked in prison.

"Wouldn't you rather hear about the women?" the man muttered back and I winced. He smiles, seeing my reaction and I inwardly slap myself for failing to retain a detached demeanor. Dragon , they called him for both his terrible chain-smoking habit and for the way he had killed the three women in his life. His wife. His step- mother. And the third...

The third was the worst of them all.

His mouth, dry from the repetitive act of sucking on the barely efficient filter and blowing out the poisonous blue haze, opens to allow his darker tongue to dart out and moisten his lips. I supress a shrudder when I notice in disgust the cigarette actually clings onto his lower lip rather than fall down to the ground. He takes a drag and blows out a cloud of smoke that seems to hang low and linger before allowing the rays of the light to become visible from the window behind him.

"Very well," I wore the facade of calmness and remembered the directions I was given. Stay calm. Act interested. Let him talk. Eventually, he will slip and say something. Something we want him to admit. It was the least comfortable thing I could do at the moment, but it had to be done. "Let's talk about the women, shall we?"

He smiled. His yellowing teeth were like tombstones in a fog. He moistened his lips a second time, then took the cigarette from his mouth with his left hand. His right hand darted up to his face, thumb digging into his nostril for a quick scratch before he spoke.

"We can start with my wife. She was the first one I killed after all," he grinned like a schoolboy proudly proclaiming that he had aced some test. I raised both eyebrows with a well-rehearsed rendition of interest and nodded at him to proceed. He pushed his tongue out, against his upper teeth, then made a smacking sound before continuing, "Livia was a bitch, she was. A control freak too. I tell you, something as simple as having a shag had all these fucking rules that had to be followed. And to think, we were a married couple too. Livia had what you would call a phobia you see... she was scared of them germs and bacteria and viruses. In the air. In the water. In the other person's blood. It was some hang up she had which I thought meant she was a careful and clean gal; you know what I mean? And that attracted me more to her. Made me want to marry her."

I failed to realize that I had furrowed my brow. The Dragon stared at me for a moment and, when I failed to notice he was waiting, eventually decided to ask directly.
"Something in the story you don't think is real?"

"Oh no," I straightened up, cursing myself for forgetting to maintain my composure again. I could already imagine the department laughing at me when the time came to review my performance. How can you properly learn to gather information if you can't present yourself constantly as someone willing to receive it? "I was just thinking if there was a word for that - for that kind of phobia."

"Mysophobia," the Dragon replied, "She always wore gloves when we were outside of the house. And she never liked picking anything up bare-handed, especially if that was something that fell on the ground or was wet."

"Must have been tough," I offered. He laughed. "It was hilarious. Anytime there were things I didn't want her nosing about or looking at, I'd simply drop it to the ground or leave it damp," he shook his head and took a deeper drag of the lit cigarette, "Predictable and pathetic whore."

"You killed her because she didn't want to get her hands dirty?" I asked, and only realized in hindsight that I sounded judgmental. The last thing I wanted to do was give the Dragon a reason to no longer want to talk with me. That would have been the death of both the interview and my hopes of ever having a career in this industry.

"No," he snickered, and immediately I felt both relieved that he wasn't insulted and disturbed that I was happy to know I did not insult a known murderer. He took one last drag on the cigarette, pulled out another from the pack on the table with his free hand, then exhaled the swirling cloud of smoke as he replaced the lit but almost burnt out cigarette in his mouth with the new one had just drawn. He used the lit one to light the new cigarette and took another drag before continuing his story, "No, I killed the bitch because she lied to me. Even after everything I had put up with her. The bitch was so afraid of them fuckers that we never kissed lips to lips. She was afraid there were viruses in the blood too, you see. Always demanded I wore a rubber when we had sex too. And not just one cock shield. Two of them. I tell you, fucking the fist was far better than doing it with that bitch."

He clamped both palms together, taking a few puffs between sentences, as he excitedly continued the tale. I found myself disturbingly amused with his story and anxious to know how it ended.

"So, one time, I waited for her to fall asleep. She never stayed up late and I used to think I could spend those hours just surfing for the next website to fill my spank bank. You follow? But there came one night in particular I felt I had enough. We were married. We had the rings. I be damned if I didn't get some puss. I waited for her to fall asleep, then mounted her and kept her from screaming by leaving both hands clamped on her neck. Didn't even realize that I had broken it until after I came a second time. Guess I got a tad carried away, considering it was the first time she got my rocks off in years!"

He started laughing. I was speechless. My throat felt uncomfortably dry. My neck felt itchy. Or perhaps it was just something psychosomatic. I reminded myself of the reason I was here and gave a nod of detached interest. To play it right. Play it smooth. Show interest but don't force myself to fake actual curiosity. That shatters the trust. Makes them realize you're paying them for fools. Let them think you want to hear what they have to say. Even share what you know to engage them to saying more.

"So when you realized she was dead, you locked her body in the cellar, gathered up her jewelry and hoarded them in your cabinet to pawn for money whenever you needed another influx of cash," I offered, sharing what I recalled reading in his file. What I did not mention was the fact the wife was not discovered to be dead until two weeks later. She was a housewife with no friends. No one noticed she had vanished.

No one save the two other people.

"I guess them bitches do share their traits. What was the term for that? Hereditary? Livia was a class act, all right, but only because her mother was an even bigger act herself," he grinned and took another long drag on the cigarette he held. I found myself squinting for a moment to try and relieve a stinging sensation that suddenly exploded around my eyes. I told myself it was the cigarette smoke. Just the cigarette smoke.

"I mean, people got their weirdness right? Everyone does. You got some liking to saddle up with other guys. You got them feet lovers. Them leather skanks. Even those cross-dressing senators and priests," the Dragon counted them off with his yellow fingers, starting with the pinkie. I noticed how some fingers actually had signs of having been burnt and healed over. Rough skin. Callused skin and dirty nails. I returned my focus on his eyes and was surprised to find what I saw in them. "Everyone has their quirks and their secret flavors. I am sure even you have one of your own, don't you?"

I smiled and opened both hands to non-verbally say I had none. I didn't have the focus to think of one that moment. I was too distracted by the pride I saw gleaming in his eyes.

"Livia's mother..." the Dragon pondered on a moment, scratching his chin with his hand as he finished off the cigarette and squashed it on the ashtray beside his pack of cigarettes, "...her name was Eros or something... she had this thing for Jesus. And I don't mean a thing like those Opus Dei weirdoes who hurt themselves to feel God loves them. I mean a thing thing."

I looked up at him, uncertain.

"A Thing," he repeated once more. And when he noticed I still didn't get it, he decided there was no way to say it but bluntly. "She gets off at the image of Jesus. Sexually. She actually had this life-sized poster of him. Some modern rendition of him wearing jeans and a light blue polo, sitting on a motorcycle. She'd stare at it and imagine all sort of things."

He caught me off guard. I waved at him to stop and realized I was genuinely laughing. Deep inside my head, I was wondering what the hell I was doing.

"Amused, I take it?" he hissed, finding my laughter unexpected.

"Sorry," I admitted and tried to gather my breath between sentences, "Just the idea that she found Jesus sexually stimulating. Reminded me of Madonna. Back in the nineties. Like a Virgin music video."

He grinned. I connected. It was sick, but it was there. And more frighteningly was the fact I wasn't faking it.

"How did you even find out about it in the first place?"

"Oh caught her a few times," he admitted and stabbed his nearly spent cigarette on the ashtray. He lit a new one even before the next sentence ended, "Livia and I stayed over her place for a few weeks when we first got hitched. Had to save up. Honeymoons always cost an arm and a wing."

I found his reference odd. Maybe he was enjoying his nickname too much.

"So after Livia was - shall we say indisposed - or should that be undesposed," another chuckle. I found myself giving a soft chuckle in response without thinking, "I paid her mother a visit. Made sure to grow my bread first of course. Some men barely have a bush on their faces. Me, I grow one in four nights. Give me a week and I can look like the Messiah." He ran a hand against his chin and slid it to wipe against his nose. I noticed the smoke lazing danced around his hand before drifting away. "Knocked on the door and when she answered in her bathrobe I realized Livia owed me enough that her mother could handle payback. So I stripped my shirt as I walked in and told her to kneel for forgiveness. The bitch knelt like some obedient schoolgirl. You could tell she was getting off it real good. Probably been waiting for me to do that ever since she saw I could grow a beard."

He drifted off then. He stared at the wall and took long relaxed drags on the cigarette. He played with the smoke as it exited his mouth, twirling his tongue to make the smoke dance in small whorls.

I remembered the record. The two had consensual sex twice in the house. Then when she began to feel guilty about having done it with her son-in-law, she asked about her daughter and he responded by beating her to unconsciousness. He then carried her to the roof, tied her hands to the antenna, tied her legs spread eagle and raped her under the bare night sky. The neighbors only noticed her on the rooftop when a boy accidentally noticed her mutilated remains while searching for alien life in the night sky. That was five days after she died.

"She was something," the Dragon muttered to himself and crushed the cigarette into the over-flowing ashtray. He looked at me and studied me, knowing we had finally reached the last story. The one that everyone wanted to ask about.

The one he never explained.

I knew I had to keep him talking. To figure out if he did deserve what was coming.

"The baby-"

He interrupted me with a scream. He yelled at me about how there was no child. How it wasn't his. About how she wasn't even human. He screamed and thrashed and kicked and at one point slammed his body against the table so hard the ashtray flew off and scattered its many little crushed orange butts to the floor. The security came in and quickly forced him back down on his seat. One pulled out a pair of handcuffs, ready to force him down. He raised both hands, covering his face, and told them he was calm. Told them he was calming down.

The guards looked at me for approval. I motioned to them they could go.

The report stated that the Dragon had another victim in his murderous spree. The wife, Livia, was pregnant at the time. Though from the Dragon's admission, the child could not be his own, having always had overly protected contact. The baby was enough months old to have a humanoid form, but Livia was the kind of woman in the world whom didn't evidently look pregnant even if she was. Supposedly, the Dragon was revisiting her rotting body on odd occasions. Claimed even the stench aroused him. Forensics believe the body was violated at least six more times in the three weeks it was slowly rotting in the basement. It was near the end of the fourth week when the Dragon mounted the now disintegrating corpse when the stomach ripped open and revealed its secret passenger.

What happened that day remains uncertain.

The report claims that the Dragon savages the corpse of the child, attacking it with a shovel he found in the basement. Some believe it was a form of jealously, realizing that his wife had copulated with someone else. Others, however, suspected that it was a form of self-hatred. Perhaps the child inside reminded him that he could have been a father. Or worse, maybe in some twisted way, he believed he was the father of the child.

"Not human," I asked, deciding to focus on his words and get him to talk again. For the longest time, no one could get the Dragon to discuss what had crossed his mind that night.

In his panic, the Dragon had run out of the house still covered in blood and viscera. Ultimately he had revealed himself to the authorities and was found guilty on the spot. I had only today to speak with him. Three nights from today, he was to receive the death penalty for the atrocities he had committed.

I had to know, however. I had to know.

"Not human?" I repeated. And perhaps the Dragon sensed his time was running out. Or perhaps at last he found someone who seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say at a more personal level. Did he realize how right he was?

"Scales. The child had scales. And fangs. Yellow fangs. A tail," he mumbled and shakily tried to light another cigarette. I lost count how many he had lit since we started the interview. But I finally got the confirmation I needed.

"It had wings," I offered and he turned to me with eyes that grew the widest they could. Sweat began to dot his face. His hand trembled so bad that the smoke seemed like tiny staircases that drifted slowly skyward.

"You.. you believe me..."

"I know," I replied and allowed my facade to fall. The Dragon stared at my yellow pupils. At my scales. At my great and deadly fangs. I flexed my back and allowed my wings to spread just enough to be noticed. I slid my tail beneath the table and had it tap his foot. The Dragon was too scared to stand however, realizing he was facing something that was much closer to his nickname than he was. I allowed a small hiss of smoke to escape my nostrils. They would mix with his smoke, after all. "Once in a while, a pure woman in the world finds herself bearing a dragon child. We used to collect virgins for that reason you see. Our eggs are laid within humans even before they are born. And those eggs only mature if they are inside a host that remains pure. Livia was one."

He failed to notice he dropped the cigarette onto his shirt. It began to burn a hole in his collar. It began to sizzle his skin.

"That child was one of us. And you murdered her. We don't really care about the virgin. Or her mother. But the child..."

He finally felt the sharp pain of the cigarette burning his skin and swatted it away. I licked my tongue out against my sharp fangs and blew him a gust of warm sizzling air. The cigarette on the floor glew brighter as the embers caught the breeze.

"I've been tasked to check if you did kill the child. Or if the child's death came simply after the mother died. I would presume your reaction does support the report that you used the shovel, I shook my head."

He inhaled sharply, ready to scream the word monster. But I have heard enough. One single breath was all it took and the cigarette in the floor ignited the nitrogen-rich plume I released. The Dragon screamed as he caught fire and painfully burned. I reverted back to my human guise even before the security arrived and was escorted out of the prison for my safety.

Spontaneous combustion, they called it. Said it was frighteningly common, especially on criminals who had killed some unborn child.

God's wrath, they even suggested.

I smiled and walked away.
Not God, I thought.

Dragons.

This is my rejected entry to Vinnie's Dragon Anthology collection. Oh well. Back to the drawing board I guess. Hope you enjoyed reading it though.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

TO THOSE WHO ATTENDED THE WRITER'S FORUM
Dean and I are at this forum waiting for those who wanted to ask or share more views on Speculative Fiction. Just come over and let's talk about writing!

Monday, July 17, 2006

A SERIES OF FORTUNATE EVENTS
Life can truly catch you with your pants down. The past few days have suddenly shifted my mood from somber and elusive to beaming and excited. Let me hope to capture the reasons for the sudden transformation into writing.

FIRST OFF, FIVE MONTHS NA PO KAMI!


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My PANDA BEAR and I celebrated our fifth month together last July 15th. I still cannot fathom how such an intelligent, beautiful and creative woman like her would find me attractive and worth all the fuss. I guess some guys (like me!) just find themselves blessed. Every day we get to spend together is a day filled with so many happy memories and love. I love her so much. I willingly go crazy over her.

THEN, A GOOD FRIEND FINDS HIMSELF A DREAM...
...Catcher that is. Johnboy was among the short list of entries in the recently concluded 1st Philippine Graphic/Fiction Awards, an event joint-sponsored by FullyBooked and Neil Gaiman himself. Though he didn't make the final cut on who won, the fact his work was read by Gaiman and given some comments remains a memorable fact he will definitely be proud of having experienced. Some people (me included) we a bit let down that Neil Gaiman couldn't make it to the event. But upon realizing he was literally hands-on watching over the shoot for the upcoming Stardust movie, that made me smile with the knowledge the movie was bound to be a very good depiction of the said story.

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We also bumped into a few old friends. There was Wanggo Gallaga, son of Peque Gallaga, who was our schoolmate back in College. There were Arnold and Cynthia Arre who have become very nice friends of mine. There was Quark and Robbie, both of whom I highly admire and hope to someday call my friends as well. Vinnie was there too, with his sweetie, whose name I sadly forgot. And finally, Azrael and Lace were there to share with us the moment and to join us for some pictures.

AND A NEW WORLD OF ALLIANCES FORGES NEW GROUNDS
In the recently concluded New World Alliance 4: A Broken Time Machine, I was given the task to be part of the Writer's Forum as well as be a judge in the cosplay event. In both instances, I found myself worrying and fretting over whether or not I would have something to share and say. As a writer, I never saw myself as truly that prolific or someone who warranted being in a panel that contained Manila Critic's Awardees (Vinnie), Palanca Awardees (Dean and Nikki) or established academic and literary people in the field (Emil). Thankfully, I was able to share a perspective which many of those present were able to relate with more (at least according to some people.)

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As promised, those who have any inqueries and questions in relation to writing are free to contact me and ask. I will do my best to help out those I can. I do remind you all that like most of you, I am still working on further gaining more recognition and skill in my craft. But hey, everyone has something to learn from everyone so feel free to send me a note.

Judging for the cosplay event was difficult, with many initial hang-ups that were not properly ironed out. Further more, judging was made even harder by the huge number of impressively accurate and beautiful costumes. The winning differences, as it turned out, became much heavily based more on both the performance of the contestant to project the character he or she was dressed as, as well as the ability for the contestant to grab the audience's attention.

My congratulations to the winners!

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Finally, had a load of fun sharing ideas with Emil Flores, Adrian and Nabs, Rocco, Nicco, Nicole, Adam and with my Panda bear while enjoying dinner at an Italian restaurant all the way at Jupiter street. The conversations and chatting felt like it was the beginning of a new world of communications to be forged (and if you don't quite get what I meant by that, perhaps later entries I plan to post would help.)

LASTLY
I guess it shouldn't be bad to share now my (not so good) entry to the 1st Philippine Graphic/Fiction awards. Here is my comic entry to that contest.

    1st Philippine Graphic/Fiction Awards

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Cheerio!

Friday, July 07, 2006

HMMM...

Just realized how I am standing at the very event horizon of so many things. My life has suddenly found itself nearing a point where all these possible directions may spring forth. Some are good. Some are great. Some are not so good. And some are long delayed and should have been done a long time ago.

The finalists for the 1st Philippine Graphic/Fiction Awards are out and there are a lot of good stuff out there. My current favorites are A SONG FOR VARGAS and THE OMEGA PROJECT. And to those who were very supportive of me, no I did not make the cut. Again. I am starting to see a pattern of failed attempts to gain notice with my written work. Neither did my comic make any waves of recognition.

Diliman's fated last issue is still undigitized, which is sad since I have been holding on to the artwork for the longest time now. I know I should just finish it so that it may finally be completed. I just haven't gotten a hold of resources (namely a scanner and more time) to do it.

Bangungot is terribly on hold. I have drawn the next eight pages but like Diliman, I haven't found the resources to work on them and post them online.

Even my latest attempt, Me as a Superhero, is on hold. And that one doesn't even need a scanner. I just realize that I nobody really seems to be interested in my work lately. And I have been focusing more on other things too. So there hasn't been any pressure to get them back on the deadlines I set. I wonder though, should I get back to them? Or just move on and accept the new directions life is offering?

Stopped writing my weekly SLINGING INK articles. I dunno. Kinda wondered if anyone would notice. Didn't seem like it. Have to admit it was fun to challenge myself to write something every week. Cheated a few times with pre-written articles though.

Still proud of my recent writing though. The Nanowrimo novel I made (Sky Diving Without Parachutes) is still fun reading. Got my fanfics (there intellectual masturbation, I admit. Fun though!) Then I got a short film screen play in the works with Ma-an, another short which I hope to shoot sometime soon. And two other writing projects (both waiting for the go-signal to work on them) with James.

Then, there's the writer's forum thing where I join a panel with Dean and Nikki Alfar (not sure who else is in it) next weekend. I guess I am to represent the non-professional writer in the panel. Or something like that.) I don't really know if the people who will attend the forum would even recognize me. But I guess I would have stuff to share one way or another.

There was a Love and Heartbreak, part 2 with Elbert which seems to have been cancelled/forgotten/something like that. WAN never continued to TU due to work and changes in direction of what to work on. There's a bunch of stories submitted to a horror mag which haven't seen the light of print. (Neither do I think I will get paid for them but I guess that's part of being non-prof at this stage)

There's the ALAMAT story which I wrote for Budjette and to my awe was editted by David Hontiveros. Had it illustrated by Alex Castro II, but sadly, I think he forgot to hand me the finished pages. Still looking for him again. I hope he hasn't resigned and vanished.

Still remember Carl telling me to release a new comic. One with the writing better tightened together. One where I really give my all. And I haven't succeeded in doing that yet. I promised myself I would before I leave.

On the matter of relationships, Panda bear Isha and I just attended two gigs last night. First, we attended EKSENA at Kolumn Bar in Timog and watched a few Roxlee shorts as well as watched a few performances. I was impromptu host for the evening, drafted by Ma-an to help in the event. Had fun naman kahit medyo weird yung event. Then from there, we ran to SaGuijo in Makati to catch Kadangyan (See info links here and here), an ethinic modern group that we first heard of during Fete de la Musique at Mall of Asia. To those who attended, Kadangyan is the band that played the very lively ethnic tunes which got everyone dancing and singing. Was able to grab a cd of their music for Isha and me. If you are a fan too, comment back and I'll be sure to post any future schedules here so you know.

Some people have asked me what I really feel about her upcoming immigration to Canada. Like I posted before, I am happy for them and very excited for her. There are so many opportunities, work-wise and creativity-wise out there to indulge into! Part of me does feel sad that things may... change or become a bit more complicated. But then again, life is always filled with such surprises. Maybe it means its time for me too to fly and embrace opportunity. Or maybe it means time to consider Canada instead of the United States. Or maybe it means its time to start over. Frankly, I don't know and I am not sure I can decide what it means yet. But I do plan to make sense of things more when the time comes.

It isn't easy, I will admit that. There are times I find myself emotionally raw and feeling more like just wanting to stop thinking entirely and going with the flow. And there are times I find myself imagining the future and already considering decisions that have to be made. But most of the time, all that matters is the day. One day at a time.

Have to keep reminding myself though.
No day but today.

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