Short Story: NUKEKUBI DREAMING
Just finished the P150 chicken meal at Teriyaki Boy. God, the money you spend for food nowadays. Almost the same price for our movie ticket. But yeah, the movie we saw was stupid.
Question of the night: what superpower would you have?
You say you wish you could read people's thoughts.
Good answer.
People, realizing that it was indeed a good answer, they go: Oh yes, yes, I wish I'd have that power too.
I guess we're all too emotional nowadays. Read people's thoughts. Where's the fun in that? Me? I'm having too much fun just trying to figure you out. If you could read people's thoughts then there'd be no more secrets. No mysteries. No dark personas. Ooohh. You. Yeah, I wish I could your thoughts. What you're really saying now, what you really said then, what you mean by this and that. I guess too much fun.
What about you? What superpowers would you have?
All eyes on me now. Oh, I gotta say something cool - something deep and emotional.
Turn back time. Turn back time. Turn back time.
"Shape shift"
Sometimes we give away stupid answers so people won't figure us out completely. How I wish you gave away tons of stupid answers to me. Told you reading thoughts was no fun. But yeah, If I could just turn back time.
"Shape shift?"
"Yeah, shape shifting. Imagine, I could manipulate people to do what i want."
I never had what I want. Some things, you say just to yourself. Some people, you don't want others to hear. Like "hey, I wanna tell you something...I Lo...". Wouldn't want your friend to hear that.
Of course shape shifting isn't as cool as reading people's thoughts. That stuff is just too emotional, just can't top that one. But yeah, if I could just turn back time.
We go to Jack's Loft to get some beer. I don't know why we went there. I just go where they go. You, you don't drink much but you told me about 2 months ago you were a drunkard. See? If I could just read your thoughts. But if I could turn back time, I'd go for that.
Some things we say we really don't mean. Some things we say are metaphors. Some things we say, we say to make people think.
I look at you and you're a moving picture a mile away. Question and answer portion with friends isn't over. The beer's kinda kicking in, listening to them talk. Me? I'm still wishing to turn back time.
Rewind to about a year ago.
You've emptied the whole tissue box with your tears. I try to ask what's going on but you don't tell. How I wish I could read your mind right now. I move in closer to hold you but I don't. I pat your back. I tell you to cry. Just cry.
Some things we say are anti-cliche cliche. Reverse psychology stuff. I've never seen you cry like this.
Rewind more.
Do you like her?
No way man. We're just friends.
Some things we say, they come back to haunt us.
Fast forward to Jack's Loft.
Lookin' at myself at the mirror, I still wonder what things would be like if I had turned back time. Water bits dripping at the side of my cheeks. If I could just read your thoughts.
Yeah. If I could just read your thoughts. If I could have just read your thoughts then you wouldn't be telling me that you only consider me as a friend 2 months from now. I would be dreaming about you for 2 weeks after that. People wouldn't be asking what we talked about and where I go from there.
Yeah. If I could have just read your thoughts then I would know what you really meant when you said you were drunkard and you changed alot and this and that and everything. I wouldn't have gone sleepless for 4 months.
If I could have just read your thoughts then I could have said the right words and not just some anti-cliche cliche, reverse psychology stuff and pat you in the back.
If I could have just read your thoughts. Oh well, I guess it's too late to wish for that and now I'm wanting to turn back time.
Turn back time.
Kiss your lips.
Hold you warm.
Turn back time. Kiss your lips. Hold you warm.
Turn back time. Kiss your lips. Hold you warm.
Turn back time. Kiss your lips. Hold you warm.
Turn back time. Kiss your lips. Hold you warm.
Turn back time. Kiss your lips. Hold you warm. Make you mine.
Some things we say, we say until we sleep.
Some things we say, we say all night.
grasseseatcows
6/22/2007 07:57:00 PM
Short Story: BREAK
"Put your backs into it", one member tells the others.
Dead bodies are always hard to carry around. Must be because of all that dead weight. Haha. But if you see 20 guys transport body bags back and forth, you wouldn't think it was that hard.
The group has been digging dead bodies last week. We collected about a hundred. What are the bodies for? We are filling train tracks so nobody could use the trains tomorrow. They either walk or take the jeepney like the others. Teams were assigned to do different stations. We're here in Katipunan. 2:00-4:00am is a great time to do these kinds of stuff. About 8, 9, 10 cars pass by an hour. Drivers would either be too drunk or too sleepy to notice anything. No one passing around. If ever there was one, the very security guard that is assigned to this station would put up his shotgun against the poor stranger’s face. Oh yeah, the group had members employed as security guards. You see, these things are what we call “organized chaos”. Haha.
A few hours after this, employees are going to find the security guards gagged, bound, tied and beat up inside the public comfort rooms. Police are going to come in, ask questions and they all have the same answer: “There were 20,30 of them. They were armed. They threatened our lives.” Yeah, these guards are mostly the same. The only difference they have is whether they are members or not. If they weren’t, then they wouldn’t be lying. Media people come in and they report train tracks filled with dead bodies and they ask their audience “Who would do such a thing?” People who would do such a thing are already on their way to switch the newest DVD releases of some record bar with pornographic films. Imagine the lawsuits that record bar will get. And the media people are going to report this and they ask the same question.
Oh yeah, the group has been in and out of the news. They just can’t pinpoint who are doing these things.
Remember that teenage model that was gang-raped by her own bodyguards? I was the driver and look-out. God, did she scream for help.
Remember all those billboards of disabled men along EDSA? The caption says it all: “PLEASE FUCK US”. You’d see those freaks in Cubao everyday. People see these kinds of things and they ask themselves: “who would do such a thing?” Such a thing like exploiting the “unfortunate” and “disabled”? The “gifted”!? I don’t know who’s more funny – them or me. Ha. Screw them. Yeah, along with those freaks. They have no idea what we’re fighting for. Don’t they see that it’s them exploiting these people? If they haven’t treated them like they were charity cases then they wouldn’t be feeling so sorry for themselves. Calling retards “gifted”, oh, fuck me. Where’s the gift in that? Can’t speak one straight sentence. Can’t take care of his stupid retard self. Who would ever dream of marrying a retard huh? Where’s the fucking gift in that? People today talk about peace and equality and morality as they step on others and arm themselves. Like I said, I don't know who's more funny.
I think by now you got an idea of what the group has been looking for.
If you want to destroy society, the group wants you.
If you want to fight conformity, the group wants you.
If you want to break civilization, the group wants you.
“Hey! You brought the sign?” a member yells to me. He must have found the security camera. Cameras are a great of way of getting your messages across. Like putting up a sign that says “I guess they missed the train”. Haha – dead people missing the train. The group also wants people with some sense of humor. Yeah. If you’re funny and bitter and angry and lonely and empty, the group wants you.
You’d meet different kinds of people in the group.
There are those who hate their jobs.
There are those who hate their bosses.
There are those who hate their wives.
There are those who hate their families.
There are those who hate their friends. Or they’re just tired of them.
Come to think of it, people don’t join the group with their friends. I guess joining the group is more of an "individual choice".
You never know who’s a member or not. I go to school and I look at janitors and guards and I ask myself if they’re one of us. I wouldn’t know until I see them at meetings. Oh yeah, group meetings. The group meets at least once a week, actually depends of how big a “project” is. If there are no projects or activities, the group meets and members brainstorm. The group then picks the best ideas and others are thrown outta the window. The group has had lots of ideas.
Those glass shards conveniently placed at the bottom of car wheels? That idea took out a whole parking lot.
Some kids who think they’re tough and smart do it just for kicks. They’re smart enough to get caught by the police. We have to thank them though. They provide us distraction. Not that we need it. You see a crappy country like this is the best brooding place for anarchy. Pissed off people, crappy police investigations, crappy media, crappy government, paradise.
Police would never know it was the group who put all those bodies in there.
That the seaplane that crashed into the Mall of Asia never really went out of control.
That the car explosions in the Manila Hotel parking lot were never really an accident.
All these got reported by the media but investigations were always faulty. It’s the very system we want to destroy that's helping us.
Not all group projects make it to the news though. Not all of them are train-tracks-filled-with-dead-bodies big. Some members, they act independently or with only a few others involved. So even us never really know who did what. Not all of them make the news but are enough to create such a fuss.
Remember that HIV guy who mixed considerable amount of blood into ketchup bottles at fast food restaurants? He’s my hero.
Those who splashed paint all over the Spoliarium?
That guy who chopped Rizal’s head off at Luneta Park? Too bad he got shot.
Those exhibitionists at overpasses?
Those waiters who jack off and blow their load all over your burgers?
Those castrated men who snuck into last year’s oblation run?
That college kid who wrote short stories about us? One day went berserk, killing other college kids and himself?
grasseseatcows
6/22/2007 07:57:00 PM
