Nobela Sa Dilim

And from the darkness cometh the light



Love, I find,
has a one track mind.


posted under Poetry, Review | 2 Comments »

My Love Stories


I have a love story, like everyone does. Except mine happens twice, in two different places, at the same time.

The Love Story in my Living Area:

My housemate comes in, with her boyfriend in tow. I’m on my computer working on some office shit. She says hi and introduces Jacob. Jacob says hi and sits on the sofa, not far from where I am. I smell his perfume wafting in the stifling afternoon air, and I get light-headed. I think Clive Christian Imperial Majesty, but I know I’m wrong and it’s probably some ripped off scent. He looks cute with his Japanese eyes and he smiles a lot.

Chona, the housemate, comes out of the pantry with a pitcher of fruit juice and some cookies. She plops down on the sofa across him and they talk in hushed tones, lest they disturb me.

I mostly work at home during the weekends, by choice.

So I continue working,...

Click here for complete reading.

posted under Short Story | 1 Comment »

My Santa Story


Have a happy Christmas

My dad made me sleep earlier than usual that night, my favorite sleeping bag by the Christmas tree. I remember watching the snow kiss the glass on the window, slowly melting into angel tears. I remember the scent of pine settling all over the room, like magic. I remember getting lulled by the rhythmic pulse of the white Christmas lights strewn all over the room, ending wound around the Christmas tree.

I fell asleep at half past eight, dreaming of the story my dad told me about Santa Claus and his team...

Click here for complete reading.

posted under Short Story | 1 Comment »

How to Write Vaguely


Let it start with a what if, slowly unraveling. Put it to paper. Thrown in huge chunks of unabashedly flagrant words. Make them as colossally superfluous as you can. Make them sound real and uneventful. Place them beside your commonplace words. Make your reader believe you use those words everyday in your usual conversations. Give them murky references to other written legends; you can quote anyone with equally vague thoughts that use one or two words in your own piece. Find a relationship. In the slow-growing journal of nothingness, make a reader feel like s/he should know this, that s/he’s a part of this. Like it was written with him/her in your mind. That this is exactly what s/he’d write. Let your piece talk, repeat words, make grammatical errors. Call attention to your writing style. Have a dictionary handy. Open a random page and use the fifth word in a sentence that makes...

Click here for complete reading.

posted under Personal, Review | 1 Comment »



She is very young and love him immensely, her love bigger than the sun and the whole universe.

She would rush after school to that lake in the woods behind the abandoned baseball field. She would sit there among the dried leaves and watch the rainbow fish chase each other just below the dark water, sunlight glinting off in a myriad colors and momentarily blinding her. She would wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Until he comes, late in the afternoon. She would hear the crackling of the dead branches from afar, and she would blush. She knew what was going to happen next, yet she didn’t mind. She would see him ducking under branches and hear his clear whistle in the air. She would blush, and slowly take her pants off for him, because she didn’t want him to wait.
He doesn’t have much time, because he had to get back to his wife and his kid out of wedlock....

Click here for complete reading.

posted under Short Story | 1 Comment »

A Day in the Life of a Bisque Doll


They were as blue as the cloudless summer sky, some were greens and blacks. They stared out of that perfectly flawless artificial face. The favorite doll of all sat apart from the rest of that court of dolls. She was set on a pedestal, with her human hair wig flowing in impossible tresses. She was a Christmas edition, with a gold green red gown with holly patterns running down the bodice. She looked over her court of dolls with contempt and hatred, her long papier mached lace covered hands reaching out in judgement. By the light of the moon through the faux stained glass of the window, she glowed with the reds and blues and yellows and oranges of the mountain scenery that was depicted in different media all over the bedroom. Her unusually red lips dripped with viscious unspoken words for the other dolls beneath her feet.

Her antiquated terrible beauty has been a curse, and...

Click here for complete reading.

The Man Who Wouldn’t Be Naked


There’s just too much story written on his skin: The tale of his sordid affair with the ground when he was younger, the kiss of the bamboo against his foot that opened up his flesh to a whole new keloidal perspective. The intimate whispers of the garish whiteness that is a community of panau that tattooed his back with a map to his youthful meanderings. A solitary dead wart masquerading as a mole down the small of his back, still clinging on for dear life to the possibility of love it has never found. The little reminders of a tryst with the pox he once had, screaming for attention every time he sheds his clothes, begging for a little time to be once again exalted. The little bumps along his face that still stand witness to the caresses of the air, a lover’s forgotten touch.

He wouldn’t be naked, even for my sake. He wouldn’t be naked, and all I wanted...

Click here for complete reading.

posted under Short Story | 1 Comment »

Live Wire


A cat framed in lazy repose
With tongue lolled out red as rose
Eyes wide, back arched in a gentle rise
Caught in eternal leathery surprise

posted under Poetry | 12 Comments »

The Unnamed 6


Chapter 5
Of King and Queens and Promises

We settled in the barrio life as well as can be expected. Eventually even the hard bed became comfortable, the creaking floor a lullabye, and the strange sounds in the night like friendly whispers in our ears as we drift off to sleep.

Mark and I became close. Closer.

He would usually get up earlier than I did, he would go prepare breakfast, ready the clinic for me, and have everything set when I come in. In the evenings, I would prepare dinner, fix our bed, settle down on my side of the wall, and we would talk. Some nights we’d sing. Sometimes he’d cry. But mostly, we find ourselves just looking at one another.

December came, and so did the first major change in our barrio life. It happened thus:

We usually close the clinic down by six pm, just as the sun is setting. Without electricity,...

Click here for complete reading.

Chemistry 101


Episode 1

Hindi ko talaga lubos maisip kung bakit at paano ako napunta sa trabaho na ito. Oo, alam ko na pinili ko ito by my own free will because it was ultimately a desperate decision to finally give in to the wish of my mom—she had been nagging me to work here ever since I graduated from college three years ago.

Three years have passed at wala pa rin akong pera para makabili ng tunay na Louis Vuitton! (Kahit fake nga hindi parin aabot dahil 24 pesos nalang ang nasa savings account ko!) Hindi ko na nga tinanong yung high school classmate ko na may dala-dalang ganun nung nag-reunion kami recently, kung magkano ang bili nya dahil alam ko, sa presyo na yun, baka makapagbigay pa kami ng birthday party para sa isang libong bata sa Africa. Yung isa ko nga na classmate din, ikakasal na pala sa December! She never had a boyfriend, and we...

Click here for complete reading.

« Older Entries