Monday, July 17, 2017

Thank You


Warning: A bit of a rant follows. If you're not into rants, feel free to skip it.

I don't hate anyone.
I was taught that hating someone is not a very Christian thing to do. I don't know much about all that Christian stuff, but I was a kid. I took their word for it.
However, some people made it to a special list.
It's called “I'll never forget”.
The co-worker who, at a staff meeting, said “it's not our fault you have that thing” while deciding I would teach the largest and most difficult groups of kids the following school year. That thing is a chronic illness called Myasthenia Gravis, something that limits my life every single minute of the day. I was well-considered by my peers and I worked the hardest. My reply was “I wish no one, of those you love the most, ever has this thing”. She started crying. To this day, I don't know why. If anyone should've cried, it should've been me. I was forced to retire that year.
The friend who called me selfish because I wouldn't pick up the phone while I was in hospital undergoing a treatment for that thing. I lost a friend.
The woman who came between me and someone I cared for very much. Looking back, she only did what she was allowed to do. And I didn't do any allowing... She is one of the most insecure people I have ever seen. Her profile updates are textbook examples of a terribly lonely heart. It's actually sad to see. She was an eye-opener.
Finally, someone who said the most unthinkable, harmful things about me. It was a terrible, painful blow.
And every now and then these people come to mind.
I haven't seen them in a long time.
I wonder if they are better off now.
I wonder how their lives have moved on.
I still don't hate them.
Because of what they did and said, better things happened.
I stopped working, and my health improved exponentially.
I left behind a friendship that was destroying me.
I got to see a few things I had been blind to.
I met someone who makes my life sunnier.
Years will go by, but I shall never forget what you did to me and, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you for that.

Note: "Myasthenia gravis (..) is a chronic autoimmune neuromuscular disorder that is characterized by fluctuating weakness of the voluntary muscle groups." Source: Myasthenia Gravis Foundation of America

Sunday, July 16, 2017


IV The Death by Ux Hax and Romy Nayar

She just waited there, wearing this huge hat while sitting between the oversized figures of Death and a Bride.
The display was a performance, they said. All she had to do was sit down and be quiet. And that’s what she did. Well, at least until Death started coughing.
She stood up and peeked in through the eyes of Death, wondering if anyone was inside.
“Are you ok?”
To which Death replied, amidst intense coughing, “Help me.”
Everyone fled. Too creepy, the critics wrote.
Apparently, Death had planned to rob the jewelry-clad celebrities attending the opening, and Death almost died.
100 Word Stories

Sunday, July 9, 2017


Il Nido Cafe and Wine Bar "The Nest"

He flattened the map on the table.
“This is where we are going.” And he thumped his index finger on the right spot a few times for emphasis.
The gang seemed bored.
“Get in the cars and… try to look inconspicuous so the police don’t stop you, ok?!”
They all nodded.
When he arrived, he saw no one.
“Damn retards… They got caught. When you want something done, do it yourself.”
He walked inside the bank. Empty.
He got caught too.
“One-way ticket to hell,” one of them had the gall to tell him when they met again in jail.
100 Word Stories

Sunday, July 2, 2017


Bou's Land

A young rabbit looks at an old tree. The tree whispers.
The rabbit hops back and forth near the tree. The tree whispers.
The rabbit perks up two long ears. The tree whispers.
And the rabbit rests.
The tree sways in the wind, its leaves rustling softly.
The tree is wise and the rabbit ponders.
“Big ears don’t make you hear better, do they?” The tree whispers on.
The rabbit ponders, intrigued.
Maybe, just maybe, the rabbit will hop away with a tiny bit of the tree’s wisdom.
Maybe, just maybe, the tree will smile, watching the rabbit hop away.
100 Word Stories