initializing...

[[ welcome to kae's mind. ]]

We were never in love, she tells herself,
As she quietly packs away all things he ever touched or

laid eyes on. That was what she had been
Doing for a long time. Collecting him.

It hadn't been love, merely professional interest.
It was the same thing that scientists had for the

Monkeys they pumped unnamble substances into
and the rats they sent scurrying through blind walls.

Collecting him.
Gathering data.

Nothing more fulfilling that.

She slips the last object inside, and stares
at the words screaming THIS SIDE UP at her from

Lipless cardboard flaps.
Soon, it begins to grow dark.

[[ Saturday, November 29, 2003 at 11:27 p.m.. ]]
[[ welcome to kae's mind. ]]

You make me feel

inadequate.

There's nothing better than a knife in

your gut, and literary shrapnel in your eyes.

"Take my heart and leave," the red pawn says.

"Maybe it'll work better that way, for you and I.

You and I. You

and

This isn't about us, is it?

Last time I checked, it was.

[[ Monday, September 1, 2003 at 03:11 p.m.. ]]
[[ welcome to kae's mind. ]]

"...and then I says, 'Shit, baby, it don't follow up that way.' She takes a looker kinda funny, I laugh, she laughs, and we hit it off, ya know?"

His voice was a near-toothless wheeze through cracked lips, patched in scratchy and pathetic like a bad record. The barman who was listening to him nodded along with the serenity of many a sleepless night listening to doddering idiots, and kept wiping the glasses.

Chris Cornell's vocals filtered clear through the boy's headphones. In his vision, the old man was a mime in tatterdemalion arrayed with grime, waving his hands in some weird mockery of an aeroplane.

"Ya, she was a sweet un, that Chel. Sluts and hookers gotta be sweet, so ya tell me, but she was different, ya know?"

"Another one then, sir?"

"Sure sure. Ha, first time anyone's ever 'sirred' me, ya know?"

The bar was uncleaned, and the light was too bright. Beyond the salvation of Audioslave, discordant pop music played on and on, painting a tale of a girl who loved a guy who loved another girl. The boy turned the volume of his MD player up and stared past the old man at the other who sat at another table, alone with his whiskey.

Grey hair, old scar. The boy noted these details, wrapped his jacket about him tighter, and waited.

"Louis'll be coming around, right?"

"I don't think so, sir. I haven't seen him since Monday."

"Old dog."

The other swirled the remaining whiskey about in his glass and rose to leave. It was time.

"You gonna pay for that, kid?"

The boy said nothing.

It was almost too easy to kill him; a flick of the wrist, a flash of the knife, and the other was on the floor with a gash cutting his throat open like a grisly smile; that was sure to leave a scar. The bar girls were screaming, the bartender was gaping and the old man was looking at him with empty eyes, the blank eyes of a stupid animal.

"Go and save yourself," Cornell pleaded into the boy's ear. "Take it out on me..."

The boy tossed his change unto the counter and walked out of the bar.

[[ Wednesday, August 6, 2003 at 05:04 p.m.. ]]
[[ welcome to kae's mind. ]]

if the definition of

living is

breathing

then i am still

alive.
happy?

[[ Thursday, July 10, 2003 at 08:23 a.m.. ]]
[[ welcome to kae's mind. ]]

He glanced at his image, sliced and screaming in the mirror, and shot at it again. He thought he saw himself bleed.

[[ Wednesday, June 11, 2003 at 06:02 p.m.. ]]
[[ welcome to kae's mind. ]]

i believe i'm jealous of the girls who do limericks and poetry.
it's annoying how sometimes, people can just write, you know? "Presto!" says the magician, and off he goes on his magic carpet, sprinkling Tinkerbell-style fairy dust over questing young minds. "Oh, god," says the artist as he takes another drag and watches the colors swirl in his mind.

i don't have colors left, you see. rainbows are becoming hard to find.

[[ Wednesday, April 9, 2003 at 03:38 p.m.. ]]
[[ welcome to kae's mind. ]]

Here I am

Standing before you

With nothing to say.

I've always hated

The way you smile

Like nothing's wrong.

Nothing's wrong, you said.

Come in.

Let me take your coat.

Tease me.

I still want all of you.

You knew, didn't you?

Smug bastard.

You knew.

Knew I'd be back.

Do you love the way you hate?

I hate the way you feel.

Hurt me.

Kiss me.

Love me again.

I'm sorry.

A teardrop falls

And I can hear it.

Rip away, darling

Everything you don't want to see.

Crucify me, darling.

And I'll be back in your bed.

[[ Saturday, March 29, 2003 at 08:51 a.m.. ]]
[[ welcome to kae's mind. ]]

the hand you so
loved

to touch
is covered in

blood.

the face you so
loved

to see
smiles without a

soul.

the voice you so
loved

to hear
has lost all

sanity.

the person you so
loved

to be
has crumbled to

dust.

speak now to
me

and give me
your spirit

for i believed
i've lost

mine somewhere down
the road.

[[ Thursday, March 6, 2003 at 05:20 p.m.. ]]
[[ welcome to kae's mind. ]]

I came up with the idea for debate try-outs, and two friends of mine expanded it... here is the fruit of their labor. ^_^

50 Things You Can Do With A Table*
by Gia and Isa

1. You can eat on them.

2. You can sleep on them.

3. You can strip on them.

4. You can put stuff on top of them.

5. You can put stuff under them.

6. You can hide under them if there’s an earthquake.

7. You can use them to fuel a giant bonfire. (Energy Source)

8. You can use the wood to carve miniature animals.

9. You can use them to gather rainwater.

10. You can use the decomposing wood to fertilize fields.

11. You can live under them.

12. You can break off a leg and use it as a weapon. (Stake)

13. You can use the tabletop itself as a shield.

14. You can debate on them.

15. If you’re bored, you can whittle the legs.

16. When vandalized and/or painted, a table can be used as a form of expression.

17. You can use them to help you count (by making marks on them).

18. You can write on top of them.

19. You can use them to decorate. (Catholic figurines, perhaps?)

20. You can have sex on them.

21. You can age wine in them. (Due to the cool, yet dry environment.)

22. You can use the wood to make pencils.

23. You can use the wood to build a house.

24. You can fill one with water, transforming it into a mosquito breeding ground.

25. You can break off a leg, stick it to the tabletop, and use it as a sundial.

26. Wooden jewelry.

27. Wooden clogs.

28. Wooden Christmas ornaments.

29. You can use the wood to build a makeshift raft.

30. Scratch a chess board on the tabletop, chop up the legs, and play checkers/chess.

31. You can use them to make sound effects.

32. You can use them as percussion instruments.

33. You can tap dance on them.

34. If kept damp, they can serve as a habitat for moss and/or mushrooms.

35. The wood can be carved into handles for wax seals, drawers, etc.

36. The wood can be carved into a mortar and pestle.

37. They can be used as props in dog tricks.

38. You can fill them with water and keep fish in them.

39. If the school is desperate enough, the wood can be used to frame graduation pictures.

40. The wood can be used to make ceiling fans.

41. The wood can be used to make spools.

42. The wood can be used to make signs.

43. The wood can be used to make decorative light switch plates.

44. The wood can be carved into chopsticks.

45. The wood can be carved into eating/cooking utensils.

46. The wood can be used as biodegradable packaging.

47. The wood can be used to make matchsticks.

48. The wood can be used to carve a peg leg.

49. The would can be used to create tiny mannequins.

50. The entire table can serve as a termite paradise.

* Assuming the “tables” are Povedan desks.

[[ Sunday, March 2, 2003 at 02:59 p.m.. ]]
[[ welcome to kae's mind. ]]

I like
Silver bells, and

cockle shells, with little
stone flowers all in a

Row.

I
like to

Dance, Sing, Wish
Dream, Live, Breathe and

Cry, in any which order.

I like you
when you laugh

when you dream
when you hate

when you be.

I hate you
for your smile

for your dreams
for your voice.

I want
to kill you.

Will you let me?

[[ Saturday, February 22, 2003 at 07:00 a.m.. ]]
[[ welcome to kae's mind. ]]

"This one's dead too. Mark it down."

The soldier hoisted his gun over his shoulder and moved on, picking his way amongst the corpses littering the ground; he paid little heed to the flies buzzing around the site and the horrible stench that permeated through the area.

He struggled to follow him, but lingered back just a moment to stare up at the sky. The moment his eyes found it, however, he hastily glanced away... the sky wasn't even blue. It was a sickening yellow, clouded with the dirt of artillery and the several hundred shades of sin.

Taking a tally of the lives lost that day was like walking through a garden whose flowers were made of human limbs; some hung listlessly near the ground, and others jutted out from it as though reaching forward and clawing the sky apart at the seams. He pulled his helmet low over his eyes and started counting his steps; he'd do anything in the world to get away from what he saw, for what he saw made him remember what he heard every time the order to deploy was given.

Something burst out from a pile of bodies to his right, and the soldier he was following shot the figure before he could even pull out his gun.

"Hunh... guess this bloke wasn't so lucky today." the soldier looked down at his handiwork as he raised his pack of cigs near his lips and pulled one out with his teeth. "Wonder if there are any other stragglers."

"That guy could have been a civilian, you know. You shouldn't have been so quick to shoot him."

"Tell that to the same guys who crashed that goddamned plane into the World Trade Center." The soldier lit up and took a long drag. "War is war, bro. It's only fair."

The soldier moved on, whistling a strange little tune. He made as if to follow, but another sound caught his attention.

There was a little boy kneeling beside the body, looking down at the blank expression and the wide staring eyes. As though feeling he was being watched, the boy looked up, and met with his gaze...

He turned away from those eyes, ones that whispered the names of every man he'd taken down in cold blood. He turned and ran after the other soldier, leaving the garden of broken limbs and ashen tears behind.

If you believe that war isn't the answer, click the button above and speak out. Time is all that we have left.

[[ Wednesday, February 19, 2003 at 06:08 p.m.. ]]
[[ welcome to kae's mind. ]]

This is an excerpt from the short story I did for my elective class... feedback is appreciated.

Nathaniel Ibarra awoke to a half-empty bottle of martini, a sleeping lover, and a skull-splitting hangover. He willed his tired body to rise, ignoring the rallying protests of every muscle he knew of or only recently discovered at that moment, and reached over to the right table to get his first cigarette of the day. The flame of the lighter seemed weak and pathetic in the ominous darkness of his quarters, but he laughed at himself for thinking that… he was too old to be scared of the dark.

He paused at that thought, as he sipped the nicotine and let the poison fill every ounce of his being. As a boy, his yaya had filled his mind with tales of monsters and demons and things that went “bump” in the night, creatures that would come to get him if he didn’t finish his food or clean his room. As a young man, the aswang became nothing but childhood nightmares as they were replaced by a face of a girl who was beautiful enough to make the night with the moon and all its stars bow down to her…

Suddenly, Ibarra wanted to laugh. He only found out that his wish came true when he realized that his shoulders were shaking from the sharp, rasping chuckles that ripped themselves from his throat.

“Eight years, mahal,” he muttered from around his cylinder of ash. “You win again.”

“What did you say?” the woman in his bed mumbled.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

Ibarra rose up, leaving the temporal comfort of a warm body in a messy bed and opening the blinds. He ignored the snarl of protest from his latest conquest, and chose to admire the pale mid-winter light that slanted down from the blinds, cutting shapes of brilliance into the carpet.

There, miles away from a little barrio in the provinces, he felt some kind of Christmas in the cold and the lights and the snow. He remembered the day he had landed in America for the first time; it had been December, and the Statue of Liberty had looked some sort of beacon of hope to him with the artificial light from its torch blazing in the snow-filled sky…

“That was before you left, mahal. This is now.”

Ibarra watched the snowfall down upon New York City for a while before smiling to himself, shaking his head at his stupidity, and heading for the shower.

The bottle of martini was still half-empty and the snow was still falling by the time Ibarra stepped out, looking fresh and professional even if it felt like trains were running tracks over his brain. He was on to his second cigarette.

“Where are you going?”

She was sitting up looking at him, holding the blanket over her heaving breasts and blinking her heavy dark eyelashes over her sleep-drugged eyes. There was nothing graceful about her, from the mussed up hair concealing part of her face to the careless angle in which she had twisted herself into, to better allow him to see her figure beneath the flimsy sheets. She was like every other woman he took to his bed: a shining, classy piece of trash that bore a phantom’s face.

“Work.”

Ibarra left the compound, running away from the memories in the darkness and the ghosts in his head.

Not up there with my usual stuff, but okay, I guess.

[[ Monday, February 17, 2003 at 06:20 p.m.. ]]
[[ welcome to kae's mind. ]]

Gently, my love
Sink the blade into my flesh.
Sweetly, my love.
Kiss me/Hold me/Kill me.
SmileformeDieformeLiveformeLieforme
See you in the next life...

[[ Sunday, February 16, 2003 at 05:46 p.m.. ]]
[[ welcome to kae's mind. ]]

Farewell, mon Blogger.

You gave me an effing hard time.

Why did I move, y'ask? Quite simple actually... I can sum it up to you in three words.

Are you ready?

Blogger
is
screwy.

There. Is that a good enough reason for y'all?

Old entries can be found in the archives (links found below). Have a nice day.

[[ Sunday, February 16, 2003 at 01:45 p.m.. ]]