Short stories

Against time

They were two souls-

sculpted to fit each other-

who met at the wrong time.

And one cannot help but say,

the story does not end well. 

For time is both a friend and a foe.

And boy, what a terrible enemy it is.   

Because when time plays its tricks,

one can only surrender and accept defeat.



I just wish for more time. 

I wish I could spend hours on composing songs and playing the guitar. But time, tricky as it is, seems to speed up when I do the things I love.

I just wish for a few more days.

Can there be a third day on the weekends? Why does it have to be five working days and just two days for rest, if you could even call it that. Those rest days are spent preparing for the working days. We do laundry and fold our clothes and clean our house. We still do chores. 

I just wish for longer nights.

For more peaceful silence shared with me and my bed, not sleeping and just lying. While the rest of the world breathes softly, let me lie in here and take my life all in. 

I just wish for more time. 

How I even wish to freeze time when I’m talking to you. The hours aren’t enough to accomodate both of our stories. Yet it still ticks away rapidly. We get trapped in our desks typing for long hours, way past our working time. We rarely talk and it hurts. 

I just wish I would stop chasing time. I wish to be in tune with its ticking beat so I could wrap my head around its concept. Why does time go by so fast? Why is it that I have to bid you goodbye when it feels like I have just said hello a few minutes ago. Why do working hours feel awfully long? Why is it that I don’t have enough time? Why don’t you have enough time to spare? Why is time too slow?

I just wish for more time. 

I wish to learn how to bend it. For those who cannot bear another minute in a party, let me speed it up. For those who long for even just a few minutes in bed to delay the dreadful day, let me give you a few hours more. For those who want one more chance to say goodbye to a loved one, let me take you back there. For those who wish time to stop for a while just to savor a particular moment, let me hold the hands of time for you. 

But this is way beyond me and I am but just one of the dials in a clock. My life ticking away each second. 

I just wish for more time.


One of the worst emotions that any person can possibly experience is not feeling at home in your own home.  It is that nagging voice in your head that you simply does not belong there anymore.

Home can be any place or anyone for that matter. It is somewhere one can feel the most secure. It is also where one can be his true self without anticipating an unwelcome judgment. Home is the beat place to be in this cold world.

This is why it is truly heartbreaking to know that the key you hold no longer fit on the newly placed lock on your door. It is unsettling to be lost in the streets you have known so well  like the back of your hand. It is the most painful feeling of absence of the home you loved as it holds the same foundation but contains the most bizarre layout and furniture. It is no longer your home and your safe haven.

So you move out with all of your precious belongings. You stay on motels and inns just to get by each day. Until the days turn to weeks and weeks turn to months and eventually became years. The memory of your home still alive. You long for it but not in the way you did before. Now, finally, you’re ready to start laying your foundations again.

How many times have you built your home only to leave it because it no longer feels like one? How many times have you promised that this time will be the last time you will ever walk out your door? How many times have you longed to go back to the very first home you built? How many times have you stood up and planned your new home? Who cares anyway? You are your own person who are allowed to have as many home as you want until you find the last place you’d grow old in. No one is counting. Maybe it is just you that’s keeping track and it’s time to stop that. Keep the old pictures of your previous homes, turn them into decorations or keep it in old suitcase, it really does not matter.

You are your own home’s interior designer. Keep it exciting.


It was our last day on Earth.

Yesterday, everything was cancelled in lieu of the last living day of Earth. No work, no classes,and everyone was given the opportunity to do anything for free for one last time however they want.

Some stayed at home with their families. Some coordinated a mass to worship. Some took it to parks and even travelled wherever their cars could take them. The scene was both chaotic and organized. It was a mix of a slow motion and fast forward effect, blended perfectly.

It was our last day on Earth.

I wore my most comfortable clothes and dropped by your home. You told me you didn’t want to face the end with me. You said you’re too unlucky and might end up alive while the rest of us die and it would be too painful. I said that’s stupid.

I held your hand and you pulled me into your arms. I took a sniff of your perfume. It still smells good even after all these years. You played with the necklace on my neck, the one you gave me on one of our dates before.

I imagined a huge explosion, one that would crush my bones down to the last bit. I imagined playing our memories in my head in flashes, trying to run through all of them as much as I can. I imagined closing my eyes and never opening them again. I imagined my end, but I cannot imagine yours.

At least we get to spend the last minutes of our lives together.

It was our last day on Earth.

But, no, we will live among the stars. Our atoms mixing together to become another matter. We would live on.

Any minute now the end would begin. Oh, how time passed by. One last time, let me tell you I love you.

“I lo-”


Stay? Leave?

I am lost.

Its always the same dilemma for me each day. Stay or leave. These are the end poles of a magnet and I have to choose just one. It’s unbelievably difficult.

To stay means getting well-versed on the everyday routine that I was programmed to follow. It is waking up at 5 am to the monotonous alarm clock I had begrudgingly set the night before. It is denying a single thought to enter my mind lest it reminds me that I have a long, rough day ahead of me.

It also means going through the usual charade of phone calls and computer programs that make my work a lot worse than it should be. I mean, shouldn’t technology make things easier? Its like the machine is enslaving me, instead of me having control over it because my kind invented it. Shouldn’t it be that way?

On top of that, it is willing the clock to run faster so I can leave my hellhole and breathe, or even try to actually live. It is leaving the comfort of my home to subject myself to the painful aftereffects of signing a contract.

To stay means accepting what life throws at me, no matter how unfair or fantastic that would be. To stay means I’m choosing the most travelled by path.
To leave, on the other hand, means getting a fair chance of giving my dreams a shot in life.

It means gambling everything I have on the line to finally get to where Im supposed to.

It also entails new rejections and sleepless nights. It is spontaneous, exciting but also scary. It is a lot like crossing the road with a blindfold over my eyes. Its leaving everything to chance and luck. But it could also be about timing. Once you have the drive and that perfect timing, there’s a huge chance to succeed. When will I ever be ready to take the leap? That is the question.

I may as well be pursuing an endless goal. Or it could be that giving up the dream can leave me better off. I don’t know, and it’s hard to tell.

Stay or leave?



The tirades of the let down

Disappointment has always been a part of my life. Things do not always seem to be what I thought they would be. A planned meet-up with close friends, only to end up getting cancelled last minute because of light rain. An adventure trip that failed to live up to its promise of stress-free days. Or a sworn promise made by someone special only to watch him do the things he said he wouldn’t.  

Moments like these never fail to show up even in the slowest of my days. Sometimes, I wonder whether I would get used to the feeling of disappointment. As far as I can tell, I still get knocked up by it one way or another. 

Maybe it has something to do with why I felt like I was let down. You see, a person wouldn’t really get disappointed if he or she simply does not value the worth of trust given to a certain individual. If someone counted on you, that means they trust that you would do your best to see right through it. In some ways, getting disappointed also tastes a lot like being cheated on. And boy, it does not taste good.

It could also be because, after several times of having poor judgement, I still believe. I believed it when he said he would bring an umbrella so I need not take mine. I believed it when she said we’ll have a long and painfully detailed conversation about her new man. I believed it when he said he’ll change his ways. I believed them all, even if not all of them would be true until the end. 

I should really know better by now. I should have backup plans on where to hangout so a little rain won’t make me and my friends cancel the trip.  I should have an option B of itinerary when going to a new place.Or maybe I should know that somehow he’ll break his promise and I really should not count on his words that much. 

What people usually don’t understand is that trust is not an unlimited resource to give away. It takes a while to replenish it once it has been depleted. As time goes by, it will raise its price and if that keeps on happening, it will be too expensive. Soon, no one will be able to afford it.