Sorrow

Clare
a short story by Cheska Faye

In a box on the bottom left corner of  her cabinet is everything she could have been.

This is the last thing she saw as she swung gently from the ceiling, left foot twitching slightly.

- FIN -

Dumb Theists: Redundant*

On Hypocrisy

If the Catholic Church of the Philippines can criticize politicians who use religious events such as the Feast of the Black Nazarene to promote themselves (through free t-shirts and such), why is it that they cannot follow their own request?

This is very stale news. The Catholic Church always asks people in government to not politicize religious activities yet they continue to stick their noses in government matters. They openly state that they will not support any candidate who supports the Reproductive Health Bill.

I don’t like writing these redundant articles but as an atheist, I can’t help but react to the offense I have been taking from this vague separation of church and state.

If the church wants the politicians to stay away, they should do the same. They don’t want to be used for political reasons and yet they lend themselves so easily to it.

Is it any wonder why COMELEC can readily sight the bible as a source for disqualifying Ang Ladlad? For those of you who don’t know, Ang Ladlad is a partylist for LGBT. COMELEC did not accept Ang Ladlad’s application on the grounds that it violates the moral sanctity of the word of the Catholic god. Or something like that. Because no amount of rephrasing can make it any better or worse.

These are times when it really sucks to be living here. In a country where an “actress” such as Katrina Halili can feel offended and start masquerading as a “Dalagang Filipina” when she gets involved in a sex scandal, completely ignoring the fact that she’s capitalizing on her sex appeal and parading in scantily clad outfits anyway.

It just sucks.

* Yeah, I know you’re not all dumb. Save the anger for another issue, please.

Everyone’s a Sad Movie Waiting to Happen

For Patrick

I don’t know what it feels like to grow up knowing your father left your mother. I can’t pretend that I understand.

I grew up without a father too. We lived in separate countries for the first nine years of my live. His yearly visits that could have been time spent fondly somehow end up with me wetting myself in fear.

Everyone has their rejections to bear but I don’t know how ours compare. I don’t know how it feels like to know your father quit on you after a year. I don’t even know how I really feel about my mother trying to abort me because she only wanted one child.

Everyone has problems, this I don’t think anyone will oppose. To you, my problems might be petty. To you, I might look like a princess. And maybe I am.

I didn’t grow up in poverty. We weren’t rich but I was lucky enough to never have known hunger. My parents didn’t have to borrow money from our relatives or friends. Our family struggled too but struggled to avoid being in a position where we would feel sorry for ourselves.

I didn’t live that life but I never pretend that it doesn’t happen. I listen to my mother’s stories and though I will never live her life, I know how to appreciate mine. I know what sacrifice looks like. I know what my parents gave up for me.

I know what it feels like to do your best and still fail.

I know what it feels like to want something that I can’t have.

I know what it feels like to want to jump and fly and fall.

I know what sadness is.

And though you may think that my sorrow is less than yours, I still have to endure it.

“We are with our own faults, and yet, even in that light, know that you are every last bit appreciated”

Aspiration: Prostitute. Or Pornstar.

I couldn’t care less what happened between the time you woke up and the time you slept. Sorry.

Short Story: Towards the Sun

Towards the Sun
a short story by Cheska Faye

She licks her lips and checks her reflection on his car window. This is the point where she should have said no. Instead, she had carefully pulled the handle and opened the door, sliding in with as much elegance, grace and maturity she can summon.

“You wanted this. You wanted this from day one”

The stinging on her cheeks makes everything more vivid. His hand is under her skirt.

“The department told me you want to work as a research assistant?”

She recalls the way the sun fell warmly on his face and how her heart skipped a beat when he smiled as he asked her to close the door behind her.

“Room 1201 sir, have a good stay”

He leads her through corridors, still holding her hand. She has never done this before.

“What time did you get here last night? I was up until twelve…”

She always thought that her roommate was jealous. He wasn’t called ‘Professor Fuck Me’ for nothing.

“It doesn’t feel like you don’t want this”

Everything hurt. She wanted to disappear.

“Ah, it’s eleven. I always forget the time when you’re here”

It couldn’t have been just her. But she had been so afraid of reading too much into it. He had a Ph.D. and was only 27. Why would he be interested in her?

“Stop? Lia, you came here willingly”

He is on top of her, his fingers wrapped painfully around her wrists. This is when she stops kissing back.

“If you want, I can give you lift. It’s my fault you’re going home this late anyway”

He had turned the radio on. They discussed pop culture. He turns right two blocks too early. She licks her lips again but for a different reason. Her fingers curl on the edges of her gray skirt, barely reaching her knees.

“You don’t show up at my office on Monday, you fail. It’s that simple, Lia”

He runs his fingers through her hair so tenderly and he wipes her tears with an exquisite replica of love.

“Come on”

He holds out his hand. She blushes as she takes it and is elated when he does not let go as he crosses the street.  He leads her into an alley and into a building.

- Fin -

While Sucking Mangoes

I suppose I’m still afraid of failure.

I’d rather be average in something I hardly like than to fail in something I absolutely adore.

Things I Don’t Believe In

You’re so, so close but there is no way to get to you.

Who really knows what it means?

I’m in a position where I can see my flaws in you and I see every bit of who I hate I am.

And I want to protect you. Or more accurately, to care for you. I want to assure you that you’re OK.

That I’m OK.

But I can’t stand the sight of you. It’s unnerving, watching myself. It’s everything I want to run away from. All the things I want to hide.

Nakakatakot na makita ang lahat ng hindi ako
At lahat ng gusto kong maging

Ligawan

?
kwento ng tunay na pag-ibig

Hindi ko maalala kung sino ka.

Tumatawa ka kasi, hindi ko makita ang iyong mata. Madali silang hanapin noon, sila yung parating nasa malayo.

Nalulunod ng iyong halakhak ang dating himig ng usok na humihiram ng limang minuto sa iyong hinaharap.

Basa na ng init ng araw ang mga sulok kung saan mo unang natikman ang walang kapantay na uhaw at nalasap ang hindi makatuwirang pagkakapauwi nito gamit ang isang patak ng pag-limot.

Hindi naman ako nagulat ng kanina ay naabutang kitang hawak na naman ang kutsilyo sa iyong kamay. Hindi ko rin napigilan ang aking pag-ngiti ng unti-unti mong inilubog sa iyong puso ang talim nito.

a truth i don’t dare realize

He is still holding my mother’s hand. They are walking in front of me and the same old mix of fear and anxiety would clutter my heart.

We never talk. I am still afraid of him. I am desperately trying to dress properly, talk politely, act accordingly and I am near tears because I know I can still disappoint him, still fail him.

It fades so easily into light and I realize that he’s still gone.

I can’t disappoint him. I can’t fail him.

I remain the little girl who could not do him proud, my future gone before it was written.