A rainy Friday

It was six in the afternoon already. The sun was setting soon, and it’s raining.

I pulled the curtains away from the window, and pushed the metal crank on the side of our jalousie window. The metal screen is already full of dust, mentally telling me that we never cleaned the screen even once after we moved in here around two years ago.

I looked out the window. The scent of wet grass and soil caught my attention first, before the sight of our neighbor’s house. I inhaled more air, the scent of nature stuck in my mind. The wet road was the next thing I noticed. There were raindrops falling in it, making the black asphalt even darker. There were also dried leaves scattered, mostly on our front yard. Some were yellow, and some were brown. Looking at it, my first thought was that if you stepped on it, a crunching sound would be heard.

At the front yard of our neighbor stood a tall coconut tree. Even with the sunset making the atmosphere look a bit sepia-toned, it was obvious that a lot of its leaves were very green. However, two or three branches were full of dried and dead ones. I didn’t get worried, though. There were a lot of coconuts stuck in the top of the trunk, and I was amazed. It was my first time to see a coconut tree in the cities that actually bears fruits.

A clap of thunder was the next thing I sensed. Around this time, the scent of wet grass and soil (sometimes I call it the scent of rain) already filled our study room. That was when I noticed a lot of trees that were behind our neighbor’s house. I couldn’t tell what kind of trees those were, because I’m not familiar with them and I could only see the trees’ topmost part. Only then did I notice that there were a whole bunch of trees.

My eyes were just fixated at one point, when it should be fixated at the whole point.

People tend to focus on the little details and not the big picture.

However, we should all know first what the whole thing is, before looking at the small things in it and making a judgment about it. It applies to everything, from simple things such as buying pens to major decisions such as marrying someone. From there, we can think of all the possibilities (they’re endless, by the way) and draw the best conclusion.


Here’s another daily prompt! I wasn’t really able to stitch all thoughts together, I think. But I hope I can improve!

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A not-so-usual thirty-five degrees Celsius morning

I opened my eyes. It’s already morning.

I hurriedly started finding my phone. I kept it under my pillow before dozing off–where is it right now?

I sat on my bed, like an Indian

I grabbed the two pillows in my bed–no trace of my phone. The only things I saw was my planner, my pen, and my PSP.

(You can tell me I’m weird because I keep a lot of things under my pillows.)

I squinted my eyes, trying to see things clearer. It’s just my blurry vision, I thought.

A minute passed by and I gave up. It must have been fallen from my bed.

I hanged my legs to the edge of the bed. Like a little kid, I slid and landed to the lower bunk bed.

I went down and went to the dresser at the corner of the room.

There was a blue-and-brown thing there. My glasses!

I wore it, and my vision wasn’t that of an unfocused camera anymore.

Beside it was my phone. My mom must have put it there, I thought.

I went out of the room. A glowing 8:42 from our clock welcomed me.

Hungry, I went to the dining table. There was whole-wheat bread and Nutella.

I’m not going to eat breakfast, I thought. I didn’t like the thought of eating whole-wheat bread with Nutella.

Suddenly there was a voice.

“Bei, eat your  breakfast! We’ll go at eleven-forty-five.” Oh, my sister.

I slowly took a slice of the bread. Just think that Nutella will make everything better, I thought.

I took a spoon, opened the jar of the hazelnut spread, and scooped a big blob of the chocolate-colored thing.

Slowly I put the blob in the slice of bread, making sure that everything goes into the brown bread.

I closed the jar, put the spoon on top, and folded the slice of bread.

I took a bite. It wasn’t bad.

Until I felt the hard stuff that’s inserted in every slice of whole-wheat bread.

Thinking that it would be bad to waste food, I just ate the whole thing, and drank a glass of water.

I licked off the smears of Nutella on my lips.

I guess Nutella really makes everything better, I thought, as I walked towards our study room.


Today’s a nice, nice morning! I just got five followers on my first day of actually blogging.

I’m still in awe because they’re really, really good writers. I read some of their entries (haven’t followed them back–I will later, when I get home) and they write so good. I’m actually thinking why they even followed me, being a not-so-good newbie in the blogosphere, and one that’s obviously a teen. I guess it doesn’t really matter? I don’t know. *laughs*

I’m looking forward to writing more things here and improving my writing skills!

Thanks to these awesome people who followed me (and had faith in my writing skills): charlottecarrendar, Opinionated Man, Cristian Mihai, cherylmoore and Michael Armstrong.

Time-warped to 2010

Ding dong, ding dong, said the door bell.

It was a cool, May night. The air wasn’t the usual hot, humid kind that you would usually expect from a summer night. But it was almost June, which means that the rainy season was about to come.

I quickly went downstairs to open the door. It was my aunt.

“Hi, Auntie!” I said.

“Oh hello, Bei.” she replied. (Bei is my nickname at home.)

We entered the house and she placed her bags on the couch. As usual, she brought home some food, which I placed on our dining table. I snacked on them, sitting in my favorite wooden chair in our square table. As I was eating, she turned on her laptop, and started typing things.

It was usual. My aunt’s a workaholic.

I went upstairs to use the laptop that my sisters and I once shared, because I was surfing the Net when she arrived. After a while, I turned it off, because it was already around eleven o’ clock. I went downstairs once again, and went to the family bedroom. I lay in the bed, beside my sister, and closed my eyes.

“Bei, what do you think your section will be?” I heard my aunt asked.

I opened my eyes, got up, and rested my elbows in my aunt’s bed.

“I wish I’m in Hydrogen!”

I was a competitive child. I wanted to be the best, to excel and stand out from the others. That child would surely want to be in Hydrogen. It was the section where all the geniuses are, a feat considering that I was about to enter a school that’s made for the some of the most intelligent kids in the city.

“Oh, are you sure that you could make it there? You might not even stay there for your whole high school life!” my aunt said.

She liked to threaten me, telling me the worst case scenario whenever I tell her about something that I want to happen to me.

“I can do it!” I exclaimed.

It was almost twelve in the midnight, and I simply wished that I would really be in the school’s top section before I dozed off.

It was the first week of June, and it was my first day in my new school.

It was obvious who the upperclassmen are, and who the freshmen are. The older students were already in their classrooms. As for us, we were standing in the edge of our school’s mini-soccer field, carrying new school bags under the bright yellow sun.

I was with no one. Some of my friends were also there, but I couldn’t find them. I just stood there, just like everyone else, as I waited to have my name called.

A petite teacher, around her late twenties, went to the center of the still crowd. With a loud voice, she said, “Hydrogen.”

She was starting to call up names, obviously of people I have no clue, and telling them where their room is located.

Some minutes later, my friend’s name was called. I got jealous of him, but I wasn’t shocked. He was my past school’s valedictorian.

I was beginning to lose hope, so I started not paying attention. Well, until I heard something that really stood out from all the blabber I was hearing.

“L——, Gabrielle.”

I quickly went to the teacher as soon as I heard my name.

“Ma’am, where is my room?” I said, tensed up.

“Aren’t you paying attention? Anyway, it’s in the second floor, that classroom farthest from the stairs,” she sighed, pointing her index finger to a room where some students were talking. Those were probably my classmates, I thought.

“Thank you, Ma’am!” I said, before running to my new classroom, my face filled with glee.


This is what nostalgia does for you. Oh, and daily prompts, too.

I really had to censor my last name, though. I’m still a minor!

I have nothing to write about.

My brain is devoid of ideas, all creative juices used up.

My hands are resting on the keyboard, the fingers moving from key to key.

My left foot is rested on the ground. My right foot is stomping, the flip-flops embracing it making a sound.

My body is still, unresponsive, maybe just doing their bodily functions.

My eyes are staring at the laptop screen. Blink, blink, still stuck in a creative rut.

The fan is releasing hot, hot air. Definitely doesn’t help with enduring the heat.

The sweat is building up everywhere. Under the ears, under the arms, under the knee–you name it.

The table is wobbling, shaking my phone, shaking my notebook, shaking my laptop.

The cursor and I play a staring contest.

I win this time. I win.


Did I just say I have nothing to write about? Yes.

I really had nothing to write about, until my friend chatted me on Skype:

My friend is a helpful fellow.

Yes, I set up a childish font in Skype.

The idea was bizarre. Well, at least I finally wrote something in my blog after making it around a month ago.