late entry...

Merry Christmas!
~~
Ha! It's a quarter past three in the morning and I still don't feel sleepy at all. I wonder why. Lately, I haven't been getting enough sleep. And last night I had a dream. Hmm. I can't exactly recall the exact details but I do know my crush was there. Argh! (Listen to my teenage heart beating fast!) At least in that dream we were friends! FRIENDS! That's like... one step closer to... Never mind. Haha!
~~
Early this morning, mother woke me up just to ask if she should buy oral rehydration salts for my brother who was having a bout of diarrhea. I told her reformulated Hydrite would do wonders and added that she give him Loperamide just to stop his damn bowels from expelling more hazardous material. And now he's recovered thank goodness.
~~
My brother also gave me a Christmas card. >_> Ermm. It was unexpected but I did appreciate his effort. I haven't thanked him yet.
~~

a bygone era...

It's been a year, I guess. I stopped playing RF over a year ago and I still miss the game. Whenever I recall the Crag Wars days, there's always that accompanying bit of heartache. Whenever I recall the raid/repel days, there's a pang of nostalgia that just won't go away. Whenever I recall the lively community of RFO - PH from not so long ago, there's still a glimmer of hope that that once rich and diverse gaming community will once more flourish.

I have to admit that my days in Novus were one of the best ones. There were highs and lows, of course and I enjoyed every second of them. When the time came that I had to quit and move on to another game, I couldn't help but have this nagging feeling that I'm running away from home. Novus was my home after all. I loved Novus. I loved the Accretians, the Bellato, and most of all the knots that bound me to Cora.

But all is lost to Cora, I think. Many have quit the game and many stopped being Corites, which hurt me the most. We've certainly come a long way game-wise. The machinations that drove the ceaseless strife between the three warring races have long since disappeared. But to all the brave ones, we've left our mark on the little planet. The war has claimed many and Novus and all its native inhabitants will once more bloom with the ethereal glow of Halostone.

nineteen

I turned nineteen yesterday and I was happy, simply because I'm healthy and I have a family and that I experience the luxury of going to school. There was no celebration, only greetings that were all the more appropriate and pleasing to my ears.

"Happy birthday *Dudung!"

"Dolph, happy birthday!"

Even if I worked myself to death with the preparation of the food for the nursing tribute, and even if I nearly got into a verbal fight with an old man at the bus station on my way home, reading those greetings over again somehow made the burden lighter.

(*Dudung - literally means boy or little boy in Cebuano. It's my pet name inside the classroom.)

good grief

good grief
rca 8/12/08

he often left for work with grief
in his bag. he did just that even
on christmas or new year's eve
for that that matter. he always did.

he served it to his guests, his grief.
over tea, over dinner, even on
his birthday party every 12th
of december. he always did.

the neighbors thought, including me
that a turned leaf from him was
not to be expected. but at times i,
doubted them. even now, i still do.

a week ago, he left the world
with something else in his bag,
i suppose. he was smiling, i recall,
when i saw him on the open casket.

##

dorm stuff

I would have wanted to stay longer. Who wouldn't, if given the chance? The wifi's enough a reason for prolonging my stay. But that's not all, the people are nice too. I can never forget them. If I did, I'd still recall them from the far reaches of my memory years from now.

My five-month contract with PJ ended three days ago and I didn't have the slightest idea that I had to move out right away. I can only laugh at the experience. Besides, I'm young and naive and it's my first try at living in a shared commercial space, so I have those to attribute it for. Hehe.

I wanted to leave a note similar to what Kuya Ian, a former roommate, did, addressing each of the tenants separatetly. I had a lot to say and have thought out what I was going to write down. Unfortunately, I didn't have the time to. But if by chance I did, it would have read like this:

~~

4 December 2008
B4, PJ Mansion, Cuevas Towers
Taft Avenue cor. Pedro Gil, Manila

To the B4 people of the past and present,

Good day.

By the time you read this, I'm gone from the face of this room forever, never to return nor look back but I want everyone to know that my time spent here was nevertheless fruitful. I enjoyed every second of it, awake or asleep. There were no reasons for me to consider not to, anyway. I got the taste of freedom away from the confines of my little household and it lingers on my tongue, bittersweet like dark chocolate. That's what made me enjoy the time spent most and for some of you it's not an uncommon occurrence anymore.

Now, down to business with each of you.

Kuya Mico - I don't even know you. But heck, you were my dorm mate for a week or so. Good luck in conquering your claustrophobia.

Kuya Toy - Hmm, what can I say. You love music. And the voices of the speech deprived or those having difficulty with their media are also music to your ears, I can tell. May you find the first note of the music that moves you.

Kuya Tonnicci - Ang sipag mo po mag-aral, something that I deeply admire. It's so infectious too that sometimes I find myself doubting my supposedly stable and balanced study habits. But looking back, you always remind me of the proverbial signposts stacked upon one another and pointing to places we call "everywhere". I don't know what it means though.

Kuya Ian - Woo! Mabuhay ang nurses! I got this whole idea from you. Hindi ko makakalimutan ang story sessions slash marathon hanggang alas tres ng umaga.

Kuya Tan-tan - Salamat po sa buko pie at pan de coco at sa sagot mo sa tinanong ko dati. It really helped clear things in my head.

Kuya Marco - Wala akong sasabihin sayo. Belat! XD Makatulog ka sana sa bus one of these days at pag gising mo papunta nang Mendez ang bus. Woo! (Shift muna ako sa Tagalo amp dinudugo ilong ko sa kai-Ingles.) Ang gulo mo po! Minsan matinong kausap, minsan mapag-biro. Pareho kayo ni Kuya Tonicci. Parang signposts na nakuturo sa kung saan. Ikaw yung hardcore version. Chaos theory. Wahaha!

~~

I hope everyone finds success, happiness, contentment, and most of all, fulfillment in all their chosen fields of profession, in life and in love, too. Parting words:

"It's only with the heart that one can see rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye." -taken from the book, The Little Prince.

That is all I have to say.

To the skies,

Rudolph aka Jei-ar, Junior.

Hospital rotations are back on track for us little nurselings. Our group is supposed to be (the schedule still needs a little tweaking) doing RMC OPD come Monday until the end of the month. Then we'll move to RITM (Research Institute for Tropical Medicine) for our pm shift there for November. And finally, Ospital ng Maynila, medical ward for the December rotation.

Two weeks ago, I was hoping that we were to be assigned at the Kawit hospital, as claimed through text by Kuya Mike, where delivery cases are plenty. It turned out that I was hoping dearly in vain, as accurately predicted by [info]aisushi . There is still Curative II, however, so my hopes are still high that before the end of the school year, our major and minor cases would have been completed by then.

My books for this trimester will not be included on the list of money issues to be tackled. Thank God for Ate Grace and her daughter's books. The books are one edition behind but I'll make do with them. I have to. Besides, it's never been my problem if my books are borrowed and old. Heck, I got 1.25 in my pharmacology by feeding off photocopied pages with the colored one at the library. The two books will instead go to another list which is the still-to-be-bought-books-even-after-graduation. Pharmacology, Fundamentals of Nursing (borrowed an old edition from Apple), and Suddarth and Brunner's Medical-Surgical Nursing. From time to time one's got to do his homework and remember theories.

...

That would be all, I think. ^_^

I think I should make a new blog, a private one, and move all my current digital diary entries there.

Always like this, my head
held high against heaven
my hands against your chest,
ready to push away. At any
moment, I would cry, pull
you close, against heaven -
against me. Again and again.

-RCA

The Chess Mess Test

I found the site while browsing Ate Jo's blog. ^_^ It's a nice quiz.

Your result for The Chess Mess Test...

The Rook's Citizen

The Rook’s Citizen is the guardian of birthdays, holidays and celebrations. They are generous hosts. They observe joyfully the traditions and are very liberal in giving when custom suits. Don’t be fooled by the pleasantry – they enjoy running the show. They are astute in seeing problems and aren’t afraid of delegation. They work hard and play with zest. They provide service and expect others to contribute.

The Citizen is wounded easily because their hearts are on their sleeves. They have a strong sense of right and wrong but are torn between that and the overwhelming need to rescue others. This can result in a swift action – often as motherly reprimand. As a caretaker the Citizen is vigilant. The world can be seen as a hostile place, one that cannot be trusted. They serve as great protectors and are perfect for the nurturing of young in education.

The Rook's Citizen prefers living with a focus on the world around them. They take in values via the five senses in a most literal and concrete fashion. They work hard and with efficiency. They maintain great relationships because of their cooperative natures. They will keep everyone informed and attempt to reach decisions through consensus. This is another ‘Pawn’ that is needed for their providing natures foundations of society. They bring the best out in others because they value everyone’s input and needs. They are the pleasant type and make others feel good about themselves. They will find it hard to accept flaws in others because they are the kindest and most giving of individuals.

Check out my other tests!

Changeling Type | Mage Sorter

Take The Chess Mess Test at HelloQuizzy

Ian asked me to host the tribute for him and I couldn't turn the favor down. I already asked a lot of favors from him, like sleeping over at his place when my supposed to be moving day to my dorm got canceled, and he's too busy to host the tribute itself. It's high time to return them and help him. Poor guy was forced to be the ex-com president, thanks to our coercive efforts. Well, he's not failed us once. Ian gets the job done. He deserves anyone's help. Mine for instance.

Last term, I also hosted the said event along with Therese, who's from another class, and we nearly, yes nearly, made fun of ourselves by being so clumsy at first, then a little throughout the event. Our inexperience and obvious lack of preparation showed and I'm pretty sure a lot of the older students and the faculty members noticed. Hopefully, tomorrow won't be the last tribute's rerun.

I'm not new to the stage - or being in front of a large crowd. I was very active in the drama club when I was in high school, though I didn't write about it much here on LJ. But I find acting different from emceeing/hosting, however. You have to be formal and tactful at all times. And being the funny man doesn't seem to work on octogenarians. But this time, Therese and I are a bit more prepared.

Hehe.

You can't say hehe on stage by the way.

~~

Finals is on Friday. And I have yet to re-read my notes. Heaven help me

I wrote this way back in 2005. This is one of those poems that only I could fully understand. It holds a strong personal touch so it has little or no value at all when it comes to the communication part.

Kuya Neil views poetry as a form of communication with the same elements as normal verbal discourse. Do I even remember his views right? Up to this day, I still stray from his views. I'm still so young after all, rebellious. Maybe one day I'll come to appreciate them. For now, I'll settle with free free verse.

~~

Untitled
by RCA

He waited for such
a long time under
the heavy clouds, only
to be caught in floods
that made impassable folds
of tears and frustration.
Smiles seldom bloomed
when the rain fell down.
But his did, without preamble,
for he waited. And it shall
quench his thirst,
drown him even, in the
company of sky water.

#

On personal journals

This was written for my speech class last year.

**

On personal journals
by RCA

It all started one balmy sophomore day when I got envious at a classmate who insisted on christening his journal, his notebook to be exact, the most feminine of names a boy could choose - Coraline. I fumed every single moment he blurted out “Dear Coraline” here and “Dear Coraline” there not just because he looked like a total idiot while doing it but because he teased me with it. I couldn’t do a thing but to puff my cheeks scarlet out of annoyance. Then one fateful day a brilliant idea popped into my head telling me, “Why shouldn’t I make a journal for myself?” Keeping a personal journal has been my passion since then and I have reaped myriad a benefit as far as keeping it alive is concerned.

The first noticeable change that I observed was the slow but sure maturation of my penmanship. My ugly and almost unreadable scrawl was transformed into more dignified cursive strokes. It also had a direct effect on my attitude in note taking. My hand endured more during long hours of taking down notes from the blackboard that looked down ominously upon me. It had been an arduous task but with my journal by my side, I said goodbye to note taking depression.

Then, the issues of my tear-streaked early teenage life came in. The wars I waged against my parents for rebelling against them, the grades that I had flunked and secretly kept away from my parents' noses, the cold shoulder from my siblings and my small – or big – squabbles with them were all inked into my trusty journal. To put things short, neither morsel of emotion nor a thread of fact of my florid teenage life escaped the venomous honesty I upheld for my journal. Writing down fervently on it gave me a sense of security that had never been false for all I care. I cannot say that it was an outlet where I vented all my anger at when other ones had been always available. It had been more of a Canopic jar that kept my sanity closely under control.

Finally, keeping that journal made me realize that there was more to life than what it ultimately offers us – money, power, material wealth. We can satisfy our hearts' desires but we can never be wholly complete without satisfying the underlying equation of life that is happiness. I learned, through the crude observational skills that I had along with journal writing, that putting up a positive outlook in life is never enough. You have to live that optimism in your life – in your actions, the way you speak, deep down to the very core of your being – in order to find that shard of happiness that you so long for.

As for you, my dear audience, it's up to you to decide if you should keep a personal journal for yourself. You can try it out for fun or take it up to the next level. As for that journal, it eventually got filled with my constant scribbling and for once I never got tired of doing the same thing over and over again. Up to now, I still have that hardbound book safely cradled somewhere in my closet, albeit old and dusty, carrying with it the melancholic and the joyous songs of my youth.

spread out before us
are layers of text in neat piles.
we are hopeful that
before sunrise, they are digested
then spread out again
on our breakfast tables, refined,
tolerable;
a fine sheet of it adorning
the immaculate toast,
a replacement of our favorite
pineapple marmalade.

-RCA

There are only a handful of them. ^__^

If there are one or more people on your friends list who make your world a better place just because they exist, and who you would not have met (in real life or not) without the Internet, then post this same sentence in your journal.

~**~

So there's this doctor. She's a general practitioner and she works at the OPS where we're having our clinical duty. One day we send in a patient with her forms, consisting of two sheets, not stapled but clipped. She comes out of her room and yells at us why we didn't staple the patient forms. Keyword: yelled. There were a lot of patients at the OPS that time.

We filed an incident report later on and she got reprimanded for her actions by the chief nurse. We labeled her "unprofessional" in our incident report. Which is quite true. Now she doesn't want to accept consultations with patient forms done by our group. She has a grudge on us and has even attempted to meddle with the immunization, which by the way, is run by nurses not by doctors.

So she really is unprofessional.

And she thinks like an insecure 12-year-old girl.

We kept our cool. She didn't.

Loser.

Hospital duty is semi-toxic at the moment. My group is assigned in the out-patient services. We deal mostly with uniformed people since we're serving a military hospital. It's something that I take pride in doing because we are helping the military that more or less keeps everything safe and secure inside the country.

Wednesday so far has been the most toxic of all days because the diabetics clinic is open in the afternoon. Who would've known that there are many cases of both types of diabetes in the military? Too bad we were not allowed to perform the bgm on the patients. Some intruder in the form of an insistent med-rep and the staff nurses did the procedure. Huhu.

And I'm living in a dormitory now. How sweet. After two years of commuting, finally, my parents decided it's time for me to live alone away from home. Duh... They only thought of it now! The dorm doesn't impose a curfew so it's really appropriate for student nurses like me who have afternoon to evening shifts. I'm also glad that my roommates are nice. They introduced themselves to me and gave me a few tips about dorm life. We exchanged courses and I found out that I'm the only one who's taking nursing. Two of them, however, are allied health students too, one's studying speech pathology, another public health. The other two roommates, I'm still not sure what their courses are.

Overall assessment: I can live alone as long as I have the money. (Ain't it silly of me to say that? Hehe...) I picture myself taking my masters three years from now while working and still live in the same dorm I'm residing in today.

reply to a disgruntled writer

trakistateb:

roses are red, violets are blue
when i flush the toilet, i remember you..

ok na?

my reply:

Red is a wondrous color
I can't help but notice too
But your brand of poetry
Reminds me of brown poo

One thing that I can tell you:
Write but not in vain,
onerous as it may be,
just to keep us sane.

Roland Garros

Nadal pawned Federer. Again. I was rooting so much for Federer but then his backhand shots were just so... grr...

Four days is all that's left of my vacation. And I can't wait for those four days to pass by and for Tuesday to greet me. Independence Day has been moved so Monday becomes a holiday instead of Thursday, thanks to the lovely president.

We'll be having an orientation at the Ospital ng Maynila on Tuesday so we'll be donning smock gowns again. (Yes, the horrible white smock gowns.) I remember the orientation to have been scheduled last January or February but then it was canceled. The hospital's near the school and the buses from Cavite pass by it everyday so I won't be having a problem on getting there on time, unlike the other hospitals which are located away from Manila.

~*~*~

I need a haircut, again and I need to get my pin tomorrow. I really hope that my pin's already made because my pinning is on Thursday. I can't get pinned if I don't have one! (Okay, I can get pinned and use another proxy pin that has another person's name on it. But that's not memorable! Haha! I want my pinning to be memorable even though it's a small event.)

~*~*~

I'm nervous and excited in unequal proportions. I have this feeling that everything I've learned is not enough for me to render good service once I start my clinical duty. It's always been something that I expected to occur. Expecting meaning that I still can do something about it. ^_^ Review. Review. Review. Refresh. Refresh. Refresh. Ask. Ask. Ask.

Oh, and I almost forgot. Practice. Practice. Practice.

new people

I've added two new contacts on my blogroll. Everyone say hi to raysoul and ein. I met them through the ragnaboards blogging thread. raysoul is a gamer and an IT graduate while ein is a student, yeah just like me, who's taking up pharmacy.

I love, and at the same time hate, how Naruto's plot is unfolding. Reading it makes me feel like I'm watching the local version of MariMar all over again. (Okay, I did watch MariMar a few times I admit.)

Inbox

Just received this text message from Joemari, a high school classmate, who's pursuing a degree in chemical engineering in UP Diliman.

Mga natutunan ko sa college:

-mas malaki ang eyebags, mas cool.

-ok mag-cram, lumalabas ang tunay mong talino at diskarte sa buhay.

-di mo kailangan mag-breakfast sa bahay, pede yan gawin sa classroom habang nagkaklase.

-kahit ayaw mo, magiging madasalin ka. pagdadasal mo na absent o wag dumating ang prof mo kung di ka nakapag-aral.

-okay lang ma-late wag lang ma-absent.

-pag sinabi ng classmate mo na di siya nag-aral, humanda ka na, peperfect niya ang quiz.

-di uso ang humble. kahit wala kang alam wag ka pahalata nasa nagdadala lang yan.

~*~*~

Even though I found a few of what he stated true, I believe that cramming is, in general, not a very healthy thing to do.

I've manually written on my diary for the past five years, and lately, due to my schedule, I couldn't find the time to write on it. So, I have decided to ditch the organic journal and switch to the Word application on my phone instead. As of now, I find updating my diary anywhere but the streets of Manila very convenient. Heck, I've even done it in the bathroom. And with that, the the headache of keeping all my past journals safe returns.

I'm thinking of placing them in ziploc bags then covering them with layers and layers of celluloid tape. That way, they will be protected from wear and tear. I could also burn them in one sitting like what mama suggested. But that'd be the death of me if I ever considered it. Sigh. Until I can find a suitable solution, my own cabinet should do fine.

~*~*~

Wolf's Rain made me nearly cry. Oh well, only the last episode where everyone dies. Their concept of Paradise was amusing though.

When the world nears its end, Paradise will appear and only the wolves know of it.

~*~*~

I got enrolled courtesy of my beautiful grandmother. I can't believe she's 75 and still working. When she comes here for her vacation on June, I'll have to ask her her secret for staying very fit. She's quite strong for a woman her age. It must be her diet and lifestyle.

Anyway, my pinning is on the 11th of June. I'm so excited. I mean, really. This is a major turning point of my student life where I get to practice what I've learned for the past two years, and maybe get scolded by my instructor once or twice. I'll leave it at once or twice. Hehe. Or maybe never. I should strive to be the best intern the school has ever had! It's not like they haven't seen excellent students, but there's no harm in trying. Hehe.

My class schedule is hospital duty from Monday to Thursday and preventive/promotive on Friday and Saturday, religion and msce squeezed between, I think.

This time, I can't afford to be late. Not once, definitely not twice. So, never. Never late. That requires me to live in the heart of Manila, nearer to the hospitals. I haven't found a dorm or an apartment yet. I've been thinking of crashing Ian's place, not just me, my mama and my other classmates have cited this idea as well, since he's my groupmate, and paying a third of his monthly rent and the bills too. But umm, we're not that close and I doubt he'll accept the idea. I could sleep on the floor with my trusty futon, and maybe I could cook dinner every weekend and since we're in the same group we could study together!

I highly doubt it would be enough to convince him. Besides, if he does agree, it will become an issue in class. Yes, a big issue, it's small but I'm sure one of my classmates is bound to make it big, and that'll probably reach the other sections' ears in less than a week. I should try asking him. But I'm afraid.

Or, maybe I could go on with my everyday 20-km Cavite-Manila commute. Suicide express. ^_^

I'll find a way.

~*~*~

Make me
by rwc

Let me, let me
touch your lips.
Let me, let me
hold your hips.

Let me, let me
hug you tight
Let me, let me
win this fight.

Let me, let me
lick your wounds
- I won’t mind the taste.
Let me, let me
hear those sounds.

Let me, let me
think but twice.
Let me, let me
break the ice.

Let me, let me
hear a yes.
Never ever
let me guess.

So let me, let me
kiss and
love and
take and
break you.

Then again,
don’t simply let me,

rather,

make me.



#

poem number 121

poem # 121

his lips were as eager
as yours, sweeter than
the candies you gave me
as final peace offering;
his tongue, more pliant
than my patience I had
for your errors; still,
the affection remains
a tainted window, and
the winter stays, the
spring, frightened, the
summer delayed, the
autumn, betrayed. and I
return to my cup of tea.

#

This poem is still subject for revision. I just noticed, I've been using the word tongue in two consecutive instances for poetry purposes now. Weird.

poem number 121

It's meme time!

I saw this on my Friendster bulletin board and thought of posting it here. The questions quite made sense so I wanted it to be a meme.

~*~*~

When's the next time you will see the
person you like?
●► this june.. i hope.

Who has your heart at this moment?
●► the one residing somewhere in manila. but that's a hopeless case. ahehe.

Are you waiting for something?
●► no, i'm not.

What were you doing at ten last night?
●► playing RO

Last text message you received?
●► ang tamad daw ni papa melbert mag reply. pajerjer jerjer jerjer..from grace, i think.

Last friendster message you recieved?
●► it was from a former classmate. she was saying hi.

Does anyone hate you?
●► i can't think of anyone, honestly. but there were some instances where i actually felt someone hated me for "what" not "who" I am.

Where are your siblings?
●► one's in cebu. one's with his girlfriend who's a volleyball player i see on tv. the two younger devils are beside me.

Who texted you the most today?
●► i think it's angela. she always sends in the most messages. i love them. eheh..

Are you happy with life?
●► in fact, yes. i'm pretty much contented with my life right now.

Can you handle the truth?
●► of course. but you know what they say, it hurts.

Have you ever read an entire book in
one day?
●► yes. i read the condensed version of Ibong Adarna for ten minutes. it was a children's book, so it counts. whahah!

Do you believe everyone deserves a
second chance?
●► it depends on the gravity of the situation.

Did you cry today?
●► no. i haven't cried in many months now.

Are you a jealous person?
●► i think so. sometimes... i just get that feeling that i want to tear out the arms of someone holding the person i like... but that's just me.. wahehe. i think that counts as being possessive and obsessive. omg!

If you could have one person with you
right now, who would it be?
●► my father. i miss him.

Do you miss anyone?
●► yes, i do. i just said who he is.

Do you get 8 hours of sleep everyday?
●► no, i don't. i pretty much abuse my body. and it's quite the b~tch during payback time.

What was the last book you read?
●► it was actually an e-book.. i think... hyperion by dan simmons. it's sci-fi..i highly recommend it.

Do you hate the last guy you had a
conversation with?
●► guy? i think it's with Dave-kun through FS comments. but no, i don't hate him. waahaha!

If you were pregnant right now, who
would be the baby's daddy?
●► i can't get pregnant. i'm a male human being. unless we're in kotobuki tarako's fictional manga universe.. where mpreg is real! whoa!

Is there anyone who understands your
relationship status?
●► no comment

Is there something you always wear?
●► yeah. my skin. "love the skin you're in!"

Have you ever thought about converting
your religion?
●► no, i haven't.

What's most stressing right now?
●► the damnable and unusually high tuition fee.

What are you going to do after this?
●► read fanfiction. eeheh...

How's the weather today?
●► warm.

What time is it?
●► it's 11:52.

Violet Dreams

Time and time again. I really wanted to finish this. Now I have the resources and I have also gathered all my previously written material. My plot bunnies are all but resurrected from the dead, alive and kicking some serious ass. Now, all I have to do is write and write everything down! This story that I began almost four years ago will now be continued.

Violet Dreams

A Gundam Seed fanfiction.

Warnings: PG-13. Contains some shounen-ai.

Pairing: Athrun x Kira

~*~*~


High up the lustrous rosewood table, the answering machine idly sat. Athrun didn't anymore bother to check for unheard messages. He seldom got one in the first place. If he did get one it was either from his parents urging him to take a week off from his academics or from his elder brothers and sisters randomly saying their hellos to their youngest sibling.

He grabbed a carton of fresh milk and a pack of frozen dinner that had a close semblance to a red brick. Simultaneously, he shoved the "brick", otherwise known as a slice of good steak, into the microwave, pushed a few buttons and chugged down the milk from the carton. The milk easily slid down his esophagus to his stomach having received no food in the past twelve hours. He drank all the milk in a series of short but rapid gulps. Then, he headed back to the refrigerator to get something he forgot.

Peeling the potatoes was easier for him this time. Kira taught him how to hold the knife at correct angles so he only peeled the skin off even when the root crop(?) has just been thoroughly boiled. The secret, Kira declared, was not with the angle of handling the knife at all but with the way and length of time the potatoes were boiled.

Kira could have mashed them with the skin on since he took the time to brush the potatoes diligently under a stream of running water freeing the potatoes from dirt. Now this was a practice Athrun didn't quite approve of, so he chose the more arduous way. Athrun is a fastidious person. You can't force him to like what he likes not to like. He comes from a rich family, what can Kira expect from him.

"But... But... There should be a little dirt that's gonna be left behind after you brush them!" Athrun protested when Kira was trying to attempt his seemingly queer kitchen practices. Athrun called it indolence, Kira called it convenience.

"It would be good for you to eat a little dirt once in a while..." Kira countered with an evil grin, which had left the poor Athrun flabbergasted. Even if he won the argument, he didn't press his convictions on mashed potatoes any further. After all, Athrun was always the host. Kira doesn't tolerate disrespect much.

~~

A long time ago...

Sitting on a stone bench for two hours in a park in the middle of Aprilius 7 in the company of dead leaves and the frigid mid-autumn winds had no doubt consumed all of 17-year-old Kira Yamato’s patience. The map which should have taken him to his apartment located somewhere in the suburbs of the city had led him to a man-made lake in a park instead.

He took a quick and conscious look at his surroundings. He felt diminutive and meaningless and lonely. The place looked lifeless for the trees have shed most, if not all, of their leaves and daylight wasn't a commodity anymore. He was bothered by their company and unease settled beside him on the bench giving him fleeting fragments of regret why he had chosen this path.

Several months ago while he was working in the town bakery, after graduating from high school, a letter bearing the government seal, arrived at his doorstep. His elder sister came across it first but never bothered to read it since it was addressed explicitly to Kira Yamato. When he returned home later that night they screamed and laughed and eventually cried in each other's embrace after reading it.

“This is our chance Kira! I’ll ask Aunt Nelia for a piece of paper. I’m sure she’ll be more than glad to lend us a sheet when I tell her about this. Your pen still has ink, right? Right?” His sister had to squint just to look straight into his eyes; their faces were only inches apart from each other. She couldn’t hide her excitement; the agitated feeling this wonderful news gave her sure was troublesome.

The letter stated that a reply must be made within a week to confirm Kira’s acceptance of this blessing that they are about to bestow him. During those times, help from the government was not to be expected. Higher ups were busy. The country had paid its debts and sure snaked its way up to the top, nearly, but strife between the powers-that-be who struggled for legitimate control over the government had once again plunged the country into silent chaos.

Equally excited, Kira fetched his satchel from the cabinet, the only furniture inside the house with their two bamboo beds exempted from the count, and dumped its contents above the polished counter of the wooden fixture. His hands searched for his pen, given to him by their kind landlady upon noticing his talent for writing, among the contents in disarray.

Finally he found it and held it in his right hand, his writing hand. He smiled triumphantly at his sister as if he had found a treasure. He waved it in the air like a conductor waving his baton giving his elder sister an idea that he will write the reply in the most elegant cursive handwriting known to man.

I'm in love with Amy Winhouse's sweet music. How come my mother told me only a second earlier about her?

^_^

I'm glad she did though.

~*~*~

Summer's here. It's so hot and it makes me want to take a bath outside the house. But classes won't end until the third week of April.

And just a moment ago while listening to some good Winehouse music, an unknown organism called me. I answered of course. She was offering me some kind of job. I thought, "Where in hell did she get my super sekrit numbah?" She immediately added that my name was recommended by Leda who in turn was only recommended by who the hell knows. Here's the fun part she said, "Leda said you have good leadership skills, so are you up to the task of being a *something something blah blah.*" I forgot what she was saying. All I knew was that it's some kind of a job expansion thingy.

I told her I'm undecided.

She took it for a no.

Good.

Because I want to be a nurse in the clinical area.

^_^

Chapter 395: Hey you!

edges of the carpet...

Thank all the nursing gods for allowing me to experience the most wonderful pre-clinical duty in my whole life. I never expected my pre-clinical to be so full of fun and excitement. By this part of the paragraph you should know already that I'm being a fat liar. Wahaha!

It was exciting alright. I was only excited the first few hours to midnight before Monday. Then that excitement faded away because I woke up at 5:40 in the morning. It was so sad because I was late for two and a half hours on my very first day at Fort Bonifacio General Hospital. I had trouble finding them and they wouldn't answer their phones when I tried calling because I knew very much that phones weren't allowed inside the hospital during orientation.

Ma'am Rana (The n should be the Spanish n. I can't do it with Ubuntu-based computer.), the instructor that took over, Ma'am Ong wasn't there yet, scolded me for being awfully late. "Good, patay na ang pasyente mo." "Good, your patient is already dead." Fortunately my poise did not waver one bit and I answered her solidly that it won't happen again. Surprisingly, it did happen again on Wednesday with Ma'am Ong already in charge. But I was only 30 minutes late, mind you. That's why I still don't have an idea right now if I'll be doing a make-up duty for my *late-absent.

Anyway, when I arrived last Monday, Ma'am Rana was discussing the parts of the patient's chart. I tried my best to look and be attentive. Of course I was attentive because my brain told me to focus and make up for the past two hours that I wasn't there. Then we went to the ward and did vital signs on our respective patients.

It had been a nice experience though. I was actually applying what I learned in health care one. (Oo, ngayon ko lang siya nagamit. Galing noh?)

Monday turned to now, which is Friday, quickly. I didn't even notice any difference because every day was the same as the day that preceded it, I was learning and learning. Maybe except for the excessively hot weather that seemed to have backed off a bit today. We also had a narrative report presentation based on the data we gathered from our patients and a quiz deluxe from Ma'am Ong to wrap things up. Twas chicken feed, I daresay. I studied. Wahaha!

That's all.

*Late absent - when you are beyond 15 minutes late, you will be marked absent instead.

~*~*~

Leda and I, unfortunately, didn't have the bonding moments we hoped we would have had during the Holy Week. She had a lot of things to do, papers mostly, and I didn't want to get on her tight schedule. Friends make sacrifices, I think. And I did just that, although I'm starting to interpret that as lack of effort to visit her.

Gian's been texting me. It was nice. He wanted me to say hi to Leda. Nangungumusta ang gago. I forwarded his message to Leda immediately. She replied with another subject in mind.

And I've been to...

hmm...

People can be dense. But Ate Relia said that person isn't too dense nor too stupid not to notice my seemingly harmless and minute advances to further my "thing" for that person.

I'm a confused little bitch. Really.

BREAKING NEWS! Woman sings Ken Lee!

LOL! Got this from kamuro_ishigami. Hapit ra ba ko gikuyapan ani.

News, news, and more news. [Randomness.]

SCHOOL:

1.

I will be starting my one week's worth of pre-clinical exposure at Fort Bonifacio General Hospital, Taguig. I belong to Group X comprised of my classmates from letters A to D, or, from Michelle to Ian. I'd rather not talk about who I wish to be out of the group because it would only bring a lot of negativity in this otherwise supposed to be positive post. It's just that a few, or many, of these people whom I am permanently grouped with until graduation are more or less uncooperative and lazy-assed. There's still hope though, Pandora's box has yet to be opened.

2.

My grades this term are tinged with mediocrity. I can't ignore the fact I have been a bit complacent but my schedule has been hard on me lately. I'm coping up to the best of my ability but a part of me is telling me that I should try to prioritize my activities better. Having so-and-so grades does sting a little. But I keep reminding myself that that's how I was since grade school and I shouldn't get frustrated because nursing is not measured through grades, which can be achieved through ways some may find ermmm... inappropriate(?), it's done by possessing the right attitude, skills, and knowledge which can only be achieved through hard work and dedication.

3.

I've been hanging out with my classmates every Friday night for dinner and the videoke ritual at G-Box. I can't believe I'm starting to have social ties with them. I only have very few friends among my classmates and the rest are just, classmates! There are a few of them though who I want to know better.

4.

School's going to end by the second week of April.

5.

Jazz is going to kill me already! The CMICS people won't give me back my hopefully filled interview questions until after the Holy Week. Why won't they allow a simple interview? Damn!

LOVE LIFE:

1. ZERO. Future ex where art thou?

FAMILY LIFE:

1. Cloud nine.

LEBA:

1. Goodness, she sent me a lot of comments and had a hard time dissecting her thoughts. We haven't talked in a while and I was glad she did just the right thing, bulk messages of total randomness. Bonding moments this Holy Week.

GAMING LIFE:

1. Bonga!

KEI-CHAN:

1. I still love my one and only Kei-chan. I still drop by to say hi to him every now and then. The Earth is a lonely place for him without me.

WRITING:

1. Updated my Perfect World fanfic. I have big plans for this one.

~*~*~

That's all for now guys. I love you all. Til next time.

Friendster post [11-3-06 at 7:40 pm]

I wrote this for APC over a year ago. I have not the chance to improve this poem. All the advice I got from fellow APCers, I have already forgotten. Perhaps I should dig up their old comments and use them for butchering this poem further.

If you're an amateur writer, there is never a finished poem. A poem goes through many processes before you can finally put it to rest and try your luck at having it published in your local paper or magazine. A Violet Dream is already edited but I won't post it yet. Not now. On my birthday maybe.

Hehehehe....

This poem was written because Kuya Neil made a writing prompt to use the theory of existentialism in poetry. I never understood what he said but I just wrote this stuff. Hahaha!

Saffron Serenity (edited again today before posting at 2:17pm)
by Rudolph C. Anongos Jr.

I am desperate
to hesitate
the voices that dictate
the decisions I make

I'll tell them to stop
with any luck I'll succeed
in persuading them
to shut their mouths up

They contain me,
hold back my jaws,
clip short my claws.
Sympathy’s never a reward.

They never did care
if crooked teachings
and preachings of theirs
led me astray. Period.

I really am a fool
Used and re-used over
And over again
Perhaps I always will.

#

[Added thoughts before posting. 2:21pm]

As I read the above post that I wrote over a year ago, I realized that the principle of editing and polishing poems does not only apply to amateur writers but to everyone else as well. Kuya Neil does have much influence on my views on this because he was the one who introduced the concept to me in the first place but with constant practice, I have found this concept quite true.

Because we are not Frost or Browning, I think it is only appropriate to look back at one's poems and assess if improvements should be made.

The Violet Dream

This was written way back when I was still in third year high school. It has undergone a lot of revisions, Kuya Neil's advices do work with poetry most, if not all, of the time, that so much of the stuff you'll be reading is a lot different from the original one, obviously. Haha!

**

The Violet Dream
by Rudolph C. Anongos Jr.


Lengthy words cannot express
When I'm lost the doubts possessed
Of thinking of submission
To my gloomy thoughts alone
You are the silver lining
I've so longed to get hold of

Your deep-set violet eyes
Pierce far down beyond my own
Hush now my dearest one
I will thaw your wintry nights

Inside my warmest embrace
Bitter memories may fade
And with your gentle repression
My pools of disquietude
Dry up, succumb to your lips

Overwhelmed by sadness
Simply because of my fear
Of letting go while here
Afloat on a waveless sea

Our inhibitions subside
Heartbeats quicken such as that
Time spares an ephemeral shift
To give way throughout the night

Feel my warmth and hold my hand
Feel my lips press yours softly
Your nightmares are chocolate stains
Washed away by suppressed tears

Hush now. Hush. Be calm, be still.
Feel my lips press yours softly
Utter not words of disbelief
Harbor not, feelings of guilt
Instead, close your eyes
I'll cover us with quilts
And beside you I will sleep
To nowhere will I go
For you are my violet dream
Dreams come true for all I know

#

Dance of the Sickle Staves

This is an RF Online fanfic I wrote for the RFO - PH site as requested by Vanguard Shinzenbi last September. You can find the site here: Dance of the Sickle Staves. But I'll post it here for everyone's convenience.


Dance of the Sickle Staves
by Rudolph C. Anongos Jr. aka rudewolf

**

Hour after hour during that sidereal Novus night, Religari laid still on the dew-laden grass at the Sunny Plains of Cora HQ, his mind a tangled mess of undigested figures of dips and tilts, arms spread wide like an angel’s broken wings. He could not account into his memory the final steps of the Dance of the Sickle Staves.

He had not a single nerve to bother him with his practice, none at all. What stirred him to an endless personal diatribe was a wandering hermit reave’s unsolicited comment. He was no good a wedding dancer, the reave had said.

Practice hours were long and a nagging personal attendant of a zealot was assigned to him to note his progress. On top of that, he was in want of sleep. Below his eyes hung dark bands of inverted crescent, masking their questionable iridescence with stress. Would Harax and her fiance applaud him for his dance?

Religari doubted his abilities when everyone else on that evening was fully confident in his ability to invoke Decem’s blessing and open the ever elusive Decem’s Eye – only through a perfectly executed Dance of the Sickle Staves, seeing that it had been the only method known to bypass whatever Force that had kept it locked.

The Decem’s Eye was a prized artifact of the Knights of Antiquity, a small cube that has only been opened twice, with each opening revealing fragments of the past and the future of Cora. It wasn't his job to open Decem's eye. But since a wedding was to take place, the Dance was compulsory so the task would have to be given to him. Letting anyone other than the bride's chosen dancer have a try at the Eye be considered taboo.

What reasons did Religari have to answer back to the wizened reave? It was not his choice to be the wedding dancer in the first place. But refusal to a betrothed woman’s request would only mean ten scores of misfortune upon him.

“And that’s a lot of bad luck to last a lifetime, kid,” as quoted by Mringankasekhar to him with one of his sheepish grins.

“That geezer!” Religari shouted out at the darkness. He wanted to cry. Lifting all one hundred sickle staves during the midway formation of the dance was just too difficult for him. He’s not even through with half of the whole routine. Mring promised that it will be all easy once all the staves were in the air in the midway formation but Religari realized later that what the archmagus told him was a lie.

Religari just sighed when he took note of the time. He looked up to see the clouds already tinted with the pink and orange hues of the approaching morning. It only made sense that Religari go on with his practice once more.

In his supine form, he raised his right arm and recalled his sickle staff out of thin air. Next, he intoned a basic wind spell, summoning a gust of wind that scooped him off the ground, setting him in a frenetic, clockwise spin upon landing on both his feet. His simple use of Force alone reverberated out to rekindle the purple flames of the one hundred sickle staves set standing in a spiral pattern around him.

The beat of the drums, the humming of the woodwinds and the plucking of the zithers’ silk cords played the accompanying music in his mind, a phantom ensemble guiding him in the midway formation of the dance

As his spin smoothened upon tilting on his toes, he shifted his hold on the sickle staff to his left hand, his right raised diagonally along the staff's angle of inclination. Being of light build, his lissome body bended slightly to the staff's weight, allowing the headpiece to hover just above the apex of the grass blades. Although his current position was circumstantial, the technicalities of the Dance required it.

“Earth fecund and verdant so,

claim Decem's scions to your bosom.

Humble grass beneath my feet

in Decem's overgrowth rejoice.”

He casted the spell without so much of a sound; a modified terra chant. Upon his staff's contact with the grass, Religari released the earthbound Force that made the interwoven pattern of plant life around him erupt into a frenzied mass of rapidly growing vegetation.

Wave after wave of viridian Force, the lowly grass that carpeted the ground writhed and twisted around the sickle staves as each tendril grew into long, slender, bud-bearing stalks that in no time blossomed into flowers of every kind and color imaginable.

The blossoms' fragrance was undoubtedly intoxicating. Religari had a hard time resisting the urge to swoon and his gentle spinning on tiptoes dared to falter.

'Not now. Not now,' Religari thought to himself hard. One wrong move with his rotation and his Force harmonics will collapse. 'Just give me forty-five seconds,' he pleaded to his lungs. In an attempt to continue the Dance, he took a deep breath and held it as he uttered the next noiseless spell to be casted, as the technicalities of the Dance had ordered him to do so.

“In gale, in gust, in lightning streaks

the darker path be chosen

In storms, in squalls, and dying shrieks

Decem's will shan't be broken.”

During the first, fifteen seconds, he felt like he was wading into the calm waters. He held the staff lateral to his body, reducing the friction caused by the bulky headpiece, giving him a chance to spin faster, along with the faster tempo of the phantom music that guided him.

Religari halted halfway through his 100th spin abruptly to release the strong blast of wind from his body. The shockwave of the blast shredded everything that it effectively pierced, the flower stalks and the surrounding trees mainly, throwing the aggregate of green and colored petals high into the air. Then came forth the several bolts of lightning from the Force-darkened sky when the faust made a single counterclockwise spin, resuming the clockwise spin thereafter.

The next fifteen seconds was tolerable. It felt like he was swimming in calm waters. As long as he had sufficient amounts of Force, it will make up for the loss of oxygen to his lungs.

The bolts of lightning arched from one sickle staff to the other between the seconds, igniting all the material caught in their strafe. The blaze consumed every morsel of vegetation left from the earth spell, slowly neutralizing the scent of the blossoms.

Religari was excited. He knew that if he kept on with the Dance at that rate, he'll be able to cross the midway formation threshold. An event where he is thrown out of the sickle staff formation by a violent current of Dark Force and lose consciousness for no apparent reason. His last attempt ended him in his spreadeagled form five hours previous.

The last fifteen seconds wasn't pleasant at all. He felt like swimming against whitewater. If he hadn't been moving, it would have been alright. But in his case, his spinning consumed half of his oxygen reserves and maintaining the flames of the sickle staves and casting the spells consumed much of the Force needed to supplement the inadequacy of real oxygen to his lungs, which, in reminder, were about to burst. His movements were strained.

Five.

Four.

Asphyxia onset.

Three

'I can do this!' Religari thought, concentration at his peak. He readied his lungs for the influx of oxygen.

Two.

Just a little more and the scent's gone. He was shifting his position for the flame spell, ready to gash his palm with the spikes of his staff's headpiece to cast sacrifice.

Yes, Reli, cross the threshold. You can do it! He thought he could do it even though his vision was blurred.

One.

Religari blacked out – again.

**

"Why did you bring me here?” Religari rasped out as soon as he opened his eyes. He knew Annwfn had brought him to wherever he was at the very moment, on a warm bed, covered by silk sheets and thick cotton quilts, head rested upon feather pillows. His throat hurt from the effort alone. He looked out of the windows. The sun was already high. How long had he been out? Had he been knocked out by the the midway formation’s energies again? He felt thirsty.

“You were lying unconscious on the ground. You were helpless, as you have always been the first moment I’ve laid my eyes upon you. I had to pick you up and bring you here for your body to rest. It was my duty. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, I don’t have objections eight-knot,” Religari spat out with a scowl as he helped himself sit up, clearly irritated.

“Manners Spindleshift. If you’re planning to blight me with one of your childish tantrums, I don't think I won't be able to guarantee your recently regained consciousness' duration,” Annwfn replied, throwing Religari a menacing look that swept away his morning irritation.

“So.. sorry if I have caused you trouble A... An....” Religari said, afraid.

“Annwfn,” the older Corite continued, “You were not breathing anymore. I had to revive you as fast as I could. For all I know, you could've died. I can’t afford to lose my brother’s wedding dancer on his special day. Besides, the Decem’s Eye is waiting,” Annwfn said, with a hint of concern in his voice. He may have maintained the cold, almost unfeeling expression on his handsome features but his voice gave away the care he felt for the young faust. Religari didn't notice, however. The older Corite sat beside him on the bed and recalled a glass of water from the kitchens three floors down his house and gave it to Religari who gave him a grateful look and drank it.

He was Religari's personal attendant who the child didn't consider an attendant because he really didn't attend to whatever he needed, except for now, which he considered a generous help. All he did was keep watch on the young faust – diligently – as if he was something of utmost importance. He had a dark and brooding aura about him that Religari didn't like one bit. Screwed egos of the higher knots, he said to himself after Harax’s fiance introduced them to each other.

Reli just looked down at his reflection on the water, his eyes watering with tears, crying yet again. He already crossed the midway formation. That was his limit as far as he was concerned. He had exceeded that limit by reaching the flame spell stance. The real dancing part would have started there, a dance with the blazes, then a dance with the waves, and then, the real dance with the sickle staves. The part which he hated most but that would have been the beginning of the midway formation's end. The beginning of the whole damned dance's end.

How he wished his mother was there to comfort him, maybe even help him with the Dance she may have known a thing or two. But she just couldn't do that right now, could she? She's been with Decem for as long as he can remember. He maybe a faust, unusual for a Corite his age, but he was still a young, terribly young child.

As if reading the faust's mind, Annwfn, the eight knot zealot Annwfn, wrapped Religari in his arms. Religari was stunned that for a moment, his tears stopped streaming down his cheeks. But the warm prison that he was in kept him aware of what was happening. It was strange. He hadn't felt it in a long time. Paternal experience. With conscious effort on his part, he leaned in to the embrace.

“Hush now. Don't cry anymore.” Annwfn inhaled the scent of the earth

The Dance of the Sickle Staves can wait.

Hu-on, guide me. I hope I'm doing the right thing..

But Religari's adoption can't.

**

FIGHT!

February is the official chaka (ugly in Pinoy gay lingo) month says Leda and I. I'm glad it will end in a few days, ironically starting the countdown for the end of this trimester. Woo!

My grades for the prelims aren't as high as it used to be and I already made a couple of absences in class due to that wrongly timed nose infection - and the occasional bout of lazy-itis. I might not be able to hit the mark for the dean's list but who cares? The important thing is to accomplish my mission objectives! Weeeeee!

FIGHT!

*throws a fist into the air*

And Leda's already an applicant for UP Streetdance. I hope she makes it through the year-long application process. Aside from that, she had wonderful news for my wonderful ears. She's over her ex. Goodness, took her long enough to realize. Now I'm really happy for her. She must...

FIGHT!

*throws a fist into the air*

Distractions abound the school these days.

Must...

FIGHT!

*throws a fist into the air*

Lastly, is this thing true? (The brain tells me it shouldn't be.) I got this from ladygith.

You Inner Gender is Female

You're sensitive, caring, and willing to connect with anyone who's open to you. You make friends easily, and you enjoy all sorts of conversations. You understand most people you meet - better than they understand themselves. You're totally a woman... or at the very least, your soul is female.

What's Your Inner Gender?

Go ahead, laugh all you want. Wahahaha!

Late post

The prelims are over. My plans on becoming a successful nurse is nearing its completion! Wahahahahahah!

For your information, this is the last term for the year. If I make it out alive, which I surely will confidence and pride put aside, then I'll be a candidate for capping/pinning. Wow! And I've made it to the DEAN'S LIST! THE EFFIN' DEAN'S LIST!

SI RUDOLPH UMABOT DAW SA DEAN'S LIST MGA KAPITBAHAY! IPAGBUNYI NIYO ANG KANYANG TAGUMPAY!

*lol*

Oh goodness. The elation I feel is just very overwhelming. I've worked hard for it you know. It's not everyday that a person like me gets into that list. I'm just so happy that I can't help myself but reiterate. Huhu... I should strive to achieve more because there is no way but up, up and back down to Earth. Akala mo cliche noh? Duh.

Across

This is a Perfect World fanfiction that I have been writing since September. The whole thing is in progress but I will finish it. I won't even try because I will.

Rating: PG - 13 for language and mild violence. Might turn R in the future.

Summary: Anwhei and and his teacher are both of the Wingkin but due to their being half Human, they are shunned by their own race. Added to that, Anwhei is a wanted criminal for "murdering" the emperor. Together, they seek to clean Anwhei's name and and unlock the secrets of his teacher's past.

**

Across
by Wolfy-chan

Chapter 1

He was running; and as he ran, his feet, which were filled with wounds caused by the jagged stones that littered his path for the past three and a half hours, bled profusely. Not only were his feet wounded, his left shoulder as well, sustained a massive injury from a wayward yu mang arrow. As he moved on, he made the effort of making his bloody trail disappear by muttering enchantments under his breath.

"Shit!" he muttered hoarsely as the chains of the shackles on his feet were caught in a stone projection, causing him to stagger, almost falling. Quickly, he regained his balance, a string of curses thrown out into the frigid night air. He leaned on a large slab of granite behind him on the mountain slope and struggled to calm his erratic breathing. Once he caught up with breathing, he started to limp slowly, and then went on running. Anwhei, as he was called, was running along a narrow mountainside path northwest of Feather City, the guards and the warden hot on his trail.

He wanted to escape the Feather City guards as much as any criminal in Perfect Land wanted. But no one has ever escaped the cursed arrows of the guards, especially the warden's, a yu mang notorious for his perfect command over the metal element and could shoot his arrows with surgical precision at astoundingly long distances. His skill rivaled that of the archers in Perfect Land who already ascended, having achieved Nirvana. The only difference in him was that he was duty-bound, immersed in a blinding quest in the elimination of evil.

Not half an hour passed Anwhei started to feel lightheaded, slowing him down, certain that it was the effect of blood loss. How we wished he could find a place to hide to stop and tend his wounds. But seeing the desolate nature of the place around him, he lost hope and went on running.

Several miles away from Anwhei, the warden, Niten, and the guards were busy tracking Anwhei’s path. The warden knew that Anwhei was not the one to be underestimated. Niten knew Anwhei by heart. Knew his history, knew his habits, knew his skills, knew his strengths, and most of all, he knew his one and only weakness. If Anwhei wanted to escape, he will with his wits and nothing less.

Hell, Niten even knew what his favorite food was. When Anwhei was first bought to jail, he did not eat any of the “fodder” served to them. He wanted to starve himself to death, except when he caught scent of toasted black sesame seeds, a scent that probably wafted from the kitchens a few hundred yards away, he practically begged for mercy to have them.

Niten surveyed the scenery around him. The grassland plains gave no room for hiding, he was sure of that, and its denizens were most unfriendly. Then his eyes turned to the lone mountain and the extending hills.

“Anwhei’s only choice is to run away and take the mountain passage that will lead him to... No.... He does not know that secret path. Only I and the guards know of it,” Niten thought critically. There was no way in heaven or hell that he will let Anwhei escape. Too much was at stake. His reputation. The safety of the imperial regents. Images of Anwhei's successful prison break five hours previous and the criminal's contemptuous snarl made his blood boil.

“You!” His voice boomed with controlled anger, pointing at a yu mang who was busy searching the grass for any traces of the criminal and assassin extraordinaire, Anwhei.

“Ye... Yesss.... sir?” the yu Mang stammered as he replied to his commanding officer.

“I need you to fly back to Feather City. Send a message to the Sword and Beast City elders to alert them of our current situation,” Niten said in a surprisingly calmed voice, yet his handsome countenance was filled with dread, one that he has not felt before.

“Shouldn't we alert the generals at Dragon City too?” another one spoke, although unsolicited, his suggestion was timely. Niten pondered for a few moments.

“No,” he said, surprising his comrades, and added, sounding as stringent and concise as possible, “Let me tell everyone of you that this matter should be contained between me, all of you here, and the elders of the lesser cities. This will not reach the ears of the Dragon City generals or anyone in Dragon City for that matter. Have I made myself clear?”

“What should I tell the elders sir?” the guard-turned-emissary asked again. It seemed to Niten that everyone liked to annoy him that day. He knew that the Heavens were testing him. The guard was fortunate enough not to receive the warden's wrath.

“Tell them,” Niten breathed deep and spoke, “Bloody Anwhei is on the loose.”

**

Wolfy's notes: I have already written the next three chapters. The fifth is still being written. I will be updating this fic monthly. Promise!

The usual things.

The usual scenario of Wolfy-chan waking up late happened again earlier this morning. I had to brush my teeth in record time and change from my sleeping clothes to school uniform. I can't imagine how you will react to me not taking a bath but I was really in a hurry. (Que horror, really, to think that I'm a nursing student.) Take note that I have done this many a time so I wasn't a bit bothered. At least I took a completely cleansing bath the night before.

I arrived school some ten to fifteen minutes after eight. My class on Tuesdays usually start 7:30, Health Economics by Ma'am Basco. I was so thankful that she didn't give a quiz, or forgot to give it. I slowly climbed up to the fifth floor where we usually held our class. When I got there, panting with thighs sore from the effort, I saw another class using the room so I had to find my class. It didn't take me a minute. I found them at the skills lab one, the room that usually witnessed my late arrivals last trimester and where Ma'am Pe always admonished, "Mr. Anongos I don't want any dramatic entrances anymore," after which she'd ask for a valid reason why I came in late. Of course I couldn't provide her with an answer those days because I usually overslept. I'm a sleep deprived animal.

The rest of the day passed with me usually worn out. Arrived home at about seven or eight. I could only guess since I didn't take a look at my mobile. Ate dinner alone, as always on weekdays. Then I took a nice cold bath. It's usually a cold bath for me. I love a cold shower. I don't know why really. Maybe because it's the usual ritual for me?

Then I checked my e-mail. Found a couple of Friendster comments turned messages from Leda. I replied because that's the usual thing we do, reply whenever someone starts a healthy conversation.

Then I'm now off to Lala Land. Ain't that usual for you too?

Reports

A minute ago, I finished my report in fundamentals of nursing that will be presented tomorrow morning. It is all about the different fields of nursing. It's a powerpoint presentation, actually. I initially planned on writing it down on plain manila paper or have it in acetate form but I decided against it since two of my groupmates already have their laptops.

I'm choosing between hospital or institutional nursing and nursing education. Why? Avenues for progress in nursing practice are very open in both since I'll be compelled to upgrade my skills in seminars and in the clinical area. I also want to teach someday after I get my masters.

**

Leda already has a Globe number thank goodness. She's been a Smart loyalist ever since so I'm a bit happy because with the 232 function, I'll be able to call her anytime at a lower cost.

A random sketch from rand0msketches.

I got this from Ate Jo's blog.

**

What Rudolph Means

You are wild, crazy, and a huge rebel. You're always up to something. You have a ton of energy, and most people can't handle you. You're very intense. You definitely are a handful, and you're likely to get in trouble. But your kind of trouble is a lot of fun. You are a very lucky person. Things just always seem to go your way. And because you're so lucky, you don't really have a lot of worries. You just hope for the best in life. You're sometimes a little guilty of being greedy. Spread your luck around a little to people who need it. You are balanced, orderly, and organized. You like your ducks in a row. You are powerful and competent, especially in the workplace. People can see you as stubborn and headstrong. You definitely have a dominant personality. You are well rounded, with a complete perspective on life. You are solid and dependable. You are loyal, and people can count on you. At times, you can be a bit too serious. You tend to put too much pressure on yourself. You are relaxed, chill, and very likely to go with the flow. You are light hearted and accepting. You don't get worked up easily. Well adjusted and incredibly happy, many people wonder what your secret to life is. You are influential and persuasive. You tend to have a lot of power over people. Generally, you use your powers for good. You excel at solving other people's problems. Occasionally, you do get a little selfish and persuade people to do things that are only in your interest. You are truly an original person. You have amazing ideas, and the power to carry them out. Success comes rather easily for you... especially in business and academia. Some people find you to be selfish and a bit overbearing. You're a strong person.

What's Your Name's Hidden Meaning?

**

A bit of good news.

Ma'am Pe, our teacher in health care 2 last trimester, is still our teacher in foundations of nursing, CHD, and strat. Initially, I got the news from Ian that she's indeed our teacher in "one of our subjects" which turned out to be two subjects, strat and CHD, but earlier this morning news came straight from Ma'am Pe herself that she'll be our teacher in foundations too. How nice, I thought. Ma'am's really a competent teacher and a little strict for my liking. She'll be with us Mondays and Thursdays the whole day.

Now for a bit of bad news to balance the meal, Leda's edol(her laptop) still hasn't got a genuine OS. I told her to install pirated OS but she had divided thoughts on it. I played the devil's advocate (I'm really good at this) and encouraged her to take my advice through our correspondence in Friendster. We'll it's not half as bad if it's properly done. Genuine OS is just way beyond the normal budget students like us have.

That would be all for now.

Bye.

New Year

The whole family, sans father, greeted the new year together. Papi Ben was even there, though he didn't participate much in the picture taking and stuff. He just ate New Year's Eve dinner inside the house.

It was fun. We rarely get to stay together in a single place for five minutes these days. But father didn't call. Maybe he had work or couldn't get through the busy phone lines. He called yesterday though and that alone will suffice.

Mama and the twins hit the sack before three and I at five.