Short Story: He’s Back (Part III)

Note: This story contains mature content including explicit and suggestive language that may not be suitable for young audiences. Any name, place, event or thing designated or mentioned in this story is purely fictional. This story is subject to a copyright. Any form of plagiarism, reproduction, reprinting, copying, in any method through any means is not allowed except prior and formal permission from the author. Any violation made can be a ground for prosecution under applicable laws.

“HEY MOM, I’M HOME! WHERE ARE YOU?!” I bawled, took my jacket off and hung it to let it dry on the door hook. I searched for Mom around the house, and found her in the dining room with her new partner, Uncle Ben. Uncle Ben has been my foster Dad ever since Mom and I became, you know, orphaned after my Dad died. He’s been with us ever since, especially when my sister was ailing, during my speech choir competition, my square offs, and even Dad’s last celebration of his death anniversary. He’s been trying real hard to be a Father to me and like a husband to Mom, but I just don’t like him. I still love Dad and no other guy will ever replace him.

They were romancing each other when I enter the room. Mom sees me waiting at the fridge, looking at them with my eyebrow meeting in the middle.

“Hi honey. Where have you been?” She patted me on my shoulder and kisses me on the cheek.

“Your Mom and I were so worried! Where have you been?” Uncle Ben adds and looks at me like a poor baby. Ugh. He’s so annoying.

“I’m fine,” I replied abruptly. “What’s for dinner?” I asked.

Mom smiles at me as she pours water to my glass, “We have Laing and Adobo, and some ripe mangoes, your favorite.”

“What’s up, boy?” Uncle Ben asks, then wraps his arms around me.

“I lost my job today,” I whisper in dread. “But I got hired in Makati,” I grinned.

“Well, that’s good news, honey,” Mom says, winking at me.

“When are you leaving?” She asks.

“Tomorrow at ten,” I answered quickly.

“Wha-?” Uncle Ben’s face was painted with astonishment.

“That’s so sudden, Vince. Why so early?” Mom looks disappointed.

“I just don’t really know. They want me tomorrow at ten. They say their boss, or I don’t know, the head of their company is going to talk to me personally,” I said, chewing my food.

“What company is it?” Uncle Ben asks in curiosity, giving back a deep stare.

“JPO Enterprises,” I answered. I really don’t feel comfortable talking with him right now. This is exasperating.

“That’s one of the biggest companies in the Philippines, Vince. Way to go! Just give me updates about your job there, okay, honey?” Mom sounds excited. She looked like as if she won in the lottery.

“We’re celebrating,” she giggles holding out some flutes.

“Yeah, that’s something to celebrate for,” Uncle Ben joins her in and went to the fridge to get a bottle of champagne and pops it.

“Cheers to Vince!” Uncle Ben raises his glass.

“Cheers!” Mom joins in excitement.

“Cheers to that,” I uttered, as our glasses clink.

-o0o-

“NO PLEASE! DON’T LEAVE,”

“Baby, please. I love you so much.”

“I have to leave you. I’m sorry. Goodby–”

My alarm clock beeps loudly as hell and I find myself drenched in sweat. My heart is pounding and my eyes were fresh from a deep slumber of tears. I was crying in sleep. This is getting out of hand. Why Vince? Why are you still so into him? Let go!

But he left me without even saying any valid reason, and I still love him. I just can’t live without him. He’s my life. He’s my soul. What am I going to do now that he’s left? He still haunts me in my dreams – my memories, my imagination. He’s my universe.

Don’t go there Vince.

It’s over between you and him. Get over it.

I turned off my clock and got out of bed to prepare for my travel today to Manila. It’s eight in the morning and the sun is shining bright. I open my window to smell the fresh, crisp breeze of the wind coming from the outside. I close my eyes, breathing slowly at each pace, trying to get a good feeling of the scent of morning air, my mind was drifting while feeling the heat of the sun on my skin.

I find him in the middle of an open field, in white long sleeved shirt and pants. He’s running towards me looking glad and excited, giddy like a kid. He takes my hand and we kissed each other on the lips. He fondles my shoulders and it sends soft tingles to my spine. Suddenly, my tears were rolling down from my eyes.

He leaves and he’s running away from me… He lets go of my hands… One by one, his fingers are slipping… I can’t hold on much longer… I try to catch up with him but he’s too fast… He’s already gone. I can’t find him…

“Why are you still here?” Mom asks, waking me up from my daydream.

“Oh, I’m sorry Mom, I’m just…” I gave up a deep sigh.

“I ju-…”

“Please clean your room after you prepare, mmkay?” Mom says vigorously, kissing me on my right cheek and rubbing my back.

“I’ll just be downstairs,” she smiles.

-o0o-

THE AIRPORT WAS FILLED with different kinds of people going in and out of the city. The sounds of the cars were quite new to me again. Busy streets. Busy places. The weather is just right – not too scorching nor freezing. I wore my sunglasses just in case so that nobody notices me here. I don’t want to be talking with someone for a very long time, it’s quite tiring and I’d be damned furious if I get late for my flight to see my big ‘boss’.

“Let me check you bag sir,” says the guard in a crisp, black and white uniform.

“Okay, all done,” he reassures.

“Welcome to Philippine Airlines. We’re glad you’re having your flight with us,” the stewardess smiles as if she’s just faking it for her job.

I went inside to find my seat. I took out my phone and put my headphones on, listened to some good music of Secondhand Serenade…

#So hold your breath because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you#

As I was trying to take my chill, somebody brushed my head with a comb.

“Hey Vincent!”

“Who are you exactly?” I ask, mad and displeased.

“It’s me! Arianne! Woohoo!” she laughs turning around the corner to put her things on the top shelf.

“Oh my gosh, nooooo-,” I reply in amusement.

“Seriously!”

“Oh my gosh! Yannie! I miss you!” I hugged her tightly and tightly because it’s been a long while since me and Arianne saw each other. Not to mention that we’re on the same plane. Oh yes. Forty-five minutes of chatting with one of my best friends in college.

“You’re going to Manila too?” she asks while gazing up the passengers loading up the seats.

“Uh, yeah,” I replied. “I have a job interview.”

“Job interview? Where?” she asks eagerly.

“In Makati. Later at ten,” I reply.

“Why are you going to Manila? Since when did you get back here in Legazpi?” I ask her just to dismantle the pressure that’s building up on me because of the ‘ariannic interrogation’ kind of way.

“Oh, I just had my four day vacay,” she answers shyly.

“Oh really now?” I raised my right brow at her, trying to pop her force field.

“Seriously! You know, all that hard work and busy schedule. Just needed a little time to relax and revisit my friends here, and there, and oh wait… Why is the interrogation put up against me?! I was asking you!” She starts to raise her noxious voice again, and everybody’s looking at us. Haha!

“With who?” I grinned.

“Shut up! Ha-ha!”

“Don’t shut me up when I’m asking you! Haha!”

“You know,” she chuckles.

“Noooo wayyy!” I exclaimed in astonishment.

“Yes, wayyyy!” We both giggled, trying to take a little peek about each other’s love lives. Arianne is actually a lesbian, but nobody can ever tell that she really is. She never told anyone except me as well as her closest, chosen number of descendants, I mean friends. Although you won’t really be able to distinguish her sexuality because she dresses up like a woman–-wearing red lipstick, stilletos and a few H&M and Lauren dresses. Not your typical good ol’ friend.

-o0o-

“WE’RE HERE BIATCH!” Arianne screams loudly as she packs up her things from the top shelf. I find myself listening to Taylor Swift’s All Too Well – another one stimulating the heartbreaks I’ve had. Brings the bad memories back again. Ugh.

“Oh. Time flies really fast,” I answered sparingly, letting out a deep sigh.

“I guess I have to make some prepping up,” I told myself.

Arianne and I arrived at exactly ten at NAIA. We eventually went to the Mall eat some lunch. My goodness! We were having a long conversation right now and this is so exciting! Arianne said that it’s on her so I didn’t insist. Why would I even refuse a kind offer from a biatch friend anyway? Haha!

As I munch on some burger, she asks me, “Where are you exactly going again?”

“To Makati, I guess. That’s where my interview is,” I replied.

“You can borrow my car if you want,” she offers without any obvious hesitation.

“Are you sure?” I doubt she’ll lend me her car again. After all, I crashed her car once in college. And that was when we had our night out. Ha-ha!

“Yes, of course. My driver brought it here in the parking lot. Here’s the key!” she says willingly.

“Hep hep! But make sure you won’t be doing some nasty stuff on it okay?” she demands.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I said.

“Like what?” she asserts with a wolf-like grin.

“I’m terminating this effin’ conversation,” I sighed.

“But first, you should drive me back to my place first. In QC,” she requests, sticking her tongue out.

I did not give a single reply. I just went on packing my things up.

“VINCE!!!” she bursts in uncontrollable havoc of fury.

“Okay. No problem. Ha-ha!” I laughed.

(end of Part III)

All rights reserved. 2017.

The Weird Poet (Leo Nekko Romero)

 

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The Weird Poet is on IG!

Good news writers, poets, romantics, and people of the blogosphere!

If you are a certified social media citizen, and fond of sharing photos, scrolling down some lovely junks on the internet, then come and see because we are officially online on Instagram — a social media account that let’s you share your photos, videos, and other critters related to photography and people.

First 100 followers on IG gets a shoutout here on The Weird Poet website! 

Follow these instructions:

1. Download the Instagram app on your smartphone or iphone;

2. Log in your account. If you don’t have one yet, click: sign up.

3. Once you’re done, key in the search tab: @twpjournals

4. Click the follow button and send a direct message with your IG username.

 

Come and follow @twpjournals to see some excerpts, poem posts, haikus, and a lot of things you can’t wait to see!

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Short Story: He’s Back (Part II)

Note: This story contains mature content including explicit and suggestive language that may not be suitable for young audiences. Any name, place, event or thing designated or mentioned in this story is purely fictional. This story is subject to a copyright. Any form of plagiarism, reproduction, reprinting, copying, in any method through any means is not allowed except prior and formal permission from the author. Any violation made can be a ground for prosecution under applicable laws.

“I HOPE TO SEE YOU SOON,” Mr. Burton hugs me tightly and gave me a slight pat on my back. A few minutes have gone through and I pack things up at work to leave. I got to get off early from work today because Mr. Burton just won’t stop nagging me about the guy he talked to earlier this morning.

“I just do hope so,” I snarled.

“See you kiddo,” Mr. Burton bursts into laughter as he runs off toward a random aisle in the corner.

I stood firm, looking around the place for once more. Then I breathe, slow and steady. I’m going to miss everything about this place. I’m going to miss my computer, my snoopy trashcan, my old, ragged, wooden table. I’m going miss the smell of cable ties and the inventory room.

I stared down at my shoes again and tears were already pooling out of my eyes. I gave up a little sniff and rub my nose off, then walked out to the exit.

“Bye guys! See you soon.” I waved at my workmates and to Mr. Burton, whose still giggling up to now.

 

It’s getting dark outside and raindrops were starting to fall. Something tells me to better get home early today. Or maybe not?

“Where are you going?” said Francine, my friend at work that’s always late as usual.

“Mr. Burton tells me that I got hired at another place,” I widened my eyes and nodded.

“What?” Francine freaks out. “Where?” she asks.

“I have no idea,” I rolled my eyes at her and laughed.

“That’s stupid. Getting hired in a new company that you don’t fucking know,” she looks surprised. Francine then bursts into laughter.

“Well, that’s the worse part of it all,” I laughed.

“So see you around then?” She replies, with tears trying to form in her eyes.

“Don’t cry. We’ll hang around!” I answered, hugging her tightly in my arms.

-o0o-

SO I HOPPED INSIDE MY CAR and grab hold of the steering wheel and drove. It started raining. Flashbacks of him are starting to get a hold of my head again. No! This can’t be happening. But it won’t leave me. Maybe I haven’t really moved on and let go?

I love you Renz…

Please, don’t leave…

Don’t go.. I…

 

“Don’t go there Vince,” I whispered softly and shrugged.

It’s 4:32pm and the rain just won’t stop.

Raining

The road went slippery and the view is quite hazy, but it didn’t take me ten minutes to drive to Landco Business Park to visit the address of the office Mr. Burton gave me just recently. I hope it’s still open but I do really hope it’s not. So I went out of my car and ran towards the stairs of the building.

“One step at a time Vince,” I uttered in monologue. “Slowly,” I sighed in dismay.

I am drenched under the rain. I look like a crazy little kid that went out playing in the rain.

I climbed up to the third floor and found a wooden blue door carved with the letters “J–P–O”. So I am in the right place? Haha!

I knocked but the door is unlocked so I went inside.

“Hello?” I shuddered.

I saw three white, wooden tables and on them placed white roses on tall, blue vases made of porcelain. They look pretty fancy. A big, blue chandelier that dangles down with blue sapphires coruscate under the light of the office.

A lady dressed in a white dress came out abruptly from the white door at the back. Her hair was black and it was braided poised on her left shoulder, and her skin was as white as porcelain. She walked toward me slowly, and at each pace I observed her every step, sleek and classy.

“How can I help you with, Mr?” she gave me a wide smile.

“I’m Vince Rodriguez, from Citi Hardware,” I replied hastily, while doffing the rain on my shoulders.

Her eyebrows raised, and her eyes widened, “Oh Mr. Rodriguez!” It seems that she wasn’t really expecting me.

“Come sit, please,” she offers a seat politely as she lead me to the first table.

“I was just wondering why–”

“Oh yes, of course! Our boss needs to talk to you,” she interrupts in surprise as she turns on the coffee maker beside her.

“Coffee?” she adds.

“I’m good, thanks,” I replied dismissively.

“This office we have here is just a branch,” she explains, pointing her index finger on a cork board on the other side.

“Our main branch is in Makati City, in Metro Manila,”

“But I thought?” I gave her a sharp, deadly, unexpecting reaction.

“I’m sorry Mr. Rodriguez. My assistant wasn’t able to explain it further to your manager because we were afraid that this info should be directly delivered to you. And since you’re here, I’m going to give you this address.” She says, handing out a piece of paper.

“You have to make it there by 1pm tomorrow,” she narrates.

“But I don’t–” I replied dryly, astonished.

“We have already booked you a plane for tomorrow by 10am,” she added then tosses several pieces of paper on the table.

“Someone’s going to pick you up at the airport. His name is Jack and he wears a suit so don’t be scared. He’s not part of the NBI.” she’s so bossy.

“I don’t get this. I don’t really know what I’m trying to penetrate here.” I said, raising my voice just to show her that she’s not the boss of me. You little white prick!

“You’ll know when you get there,” she instructs.

SHE’S SO ANNOYING!!!

“Wait, I don–” I am so exasperated by all of what she is muttering!

“Are we good Mr. Rodriguez?” she really sounds bossy! I hate her!

“Uhm, I guess?” I rolled my eyes at her. She giggled.

“Okay, see you then,” she replies, dismissing the conversation, then sips from the cup of coffee she’s holding, and goes back to the room where she came from.

Good! Go back to where you were, white prick!

Wait. I was ambushed! What the fuck did she just said? I’m going to Manila tomorrow at ten in the morning, sharp?! Who the fuck is this ‘boss’ she’s referring to? Whoa! Calm down Vince! Calm down! C-A-L-M D-O-W-N! This is just for work and you’re doing this because you need money and you need to survive this crappy life!

I scanned through the papers she handed me and I saw my flight schedule with Philippine Airlines. She was right. It was at ten, and the address of the office in Makati and whaa-?? A check worth twenty thousand pesos?! Holy schmule! This is fucking crazy!

 

I should give this back.

Or maybe I shouldn’t. It’s in my name so I might as well keep it. She’s gone anyway. That white prick should! And so I took my jacket on, composed myself up and went downstairs.

The sound of the rain blocked the noise coming from the streets. My phone suddenly rang. It’s Mom.

“Hey mom,” I asked in a joyful manner, trying to hide something.

“Where are you Vinny boy?! It’s already past five,” she sounds fucking furious.

“I’m at the office. Can I call you back? I need to tell you something,” I answered as I hop in my car.

“What is it again Vince?” she nags.

“When I get home, love you!” I answer and put my phone off.

 

(end of Part II)

All rights reserved. 2017.

The Weird Poet (Leo Nekko Romero)

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Short Story: He’s Back (Part I)

Note: This story contains mature content including explicit and suggestive language that may not be suitable for young audiences. Any name, place, event or thing designated or mentioned in this story is purely fictional. This story is subject to a copyright. Any form of plagiarism, reproduction, reprinting, copying, in any method through any means is not allowed except prior and formal permission from the author. Any violation made can be a ground for prosecution under applicable laws.

I HEAR MY ALARM CLOCK ringing to its highest pitch as if tomorrow’s never coming. The sunrays peek through my window, shining on my bare face. Warm and a little bit cozy. Suddenly, I hear my mother’s voice calling me out. So maybe breakfast is ready? I guess. Breakfast is ready but not me.

Am I really prepared for this? Can I survive the crap after all those heartbreaking events? Will I even succeed? I don’t want to get up. I’m full of this shit anyway. Fuck. Lonesome as ever. I can’t believe I ever succumbed to this madness.

“Vince! It’s getting late. Get down here and have your breakfast,” Mom shouts exasperatingly. She sounds mad. I remember her face blistering in fury when I forgot to bring her the invitation on the wedding day of her friend. It was really unfathomable but super hilarious. She was all glowing red and her teeth were gritting.

Mirrors

I stare at myself on the mirror and combed my dark straight hair as it flows below my ears. I look for a hair clip in my cuddy but there was none. At this age of 24, I look quite an old man.

I haven’t cut my hair ever since he’s gone. I did it to remember him every time I see my face on the mirror. He’s the reason for all this craps I’ve been doing. Yet I don’t even know if he still cares. Well, duh? I haven’t heard from him since then anyway. But I’m longing for him.

His wide eyes…

His soft hair…

His prominent jawline–everything.

I took out a random shirt and a pair of jeans from my closet and immediately dressed. Looking normal, ugh! Looking stupid.

Remembering all those times are quite difficult and devastating. Not to mention he still haunt me in my dreams. He kisses me on my nose down to my jawline. And as I feel his warmth crashing on me and he feels mine, everything was just so ideal. He kisses me and thrusts his tongue towards my teeth until it reaches mine. My hands play the fibers of his soft, dark hair. His smell is just so attractive. So virile and very amusing. I feel him all inside of me. Engulfed by my desires and his. All the detail of this wondrous emotion in full harmony with our lusts and dark secrets. There was no him or me, but only us. Everything is full of something I never experienced in my whole life before. Always new and exciting and makes me crave for more. But now everything was just a part of the pictures of the past. A piece of fantasy that will never transpire in real life anymore or ever again.. Maybe.

“It has been four years already,” I said as I stride out my bedroom, closing the door shut. It shut in a snap. Mom hears me tread downstairs and call out again.

Yes, it’s way too long to remember all those crap we did. All those happy memories. All was too well for me to let go. For once I thought everything would turn out great but then, he left me for no valid excuse. I was left hanging in mid air like an outcast who got no friends at school. Another neophyte left alone to face the wild beasts of the ocean of sadness and horror. It is awful. And I am trying to recover myself every single day.

“Where were you?” Mom ask curiously as she took out two plates with food, putting it on the wooden table. Mmm. Bacon and scrambled eggs. Not my favorite, but Mom cooked it so why bother? Anyway it’s still fresh and smells appetizing.

“I’m just having second thoughts mom,” I shrug on my jacket and put them on.

“Of whether getting up or rotting in bed again,” I grin shyly and stride to the breakfast table. She is staring at me while she mumble on some toast, like I am a going to be killed or something. Well, she always thinks I’m a scaredy-cat or so. She can feel it. Mom is like a psychic. She can tell if there’s something wrong.

“You seemed a little off again these days, Vinny boy,”

See? She could really tell. Psychic mom.

“I’m just hungry,” I murmur and munch on some bacon strips in my mouth.

“Hungry is not even the reason Vince,” Mom scowls at me again.

“Nah, I’m just really, really, really hungry Mom,” I answer with an almost-off-the-tip smile. Almost off that she could believe in all my lies at this moment. She mustn’t find out. Not now. Never again.

“Is that because of why we moved here in Legazpi City?” and she pauses with anxiety. She’s really feeling the moment again. Not that we moved from Manila to Legazpi City.

It’s definitely not the moving… (I whispered)

“Or is it because of. . .” she gives a quick smirk, trying to annoy me.

“Don’t start this on me again mom,” I widen my eyes at her trying to halt her guessing thing again. This is frustrating. She never fails to know.

“Stop it. I’m fine,” I added dismissively.

“Whatever that is, I’m always here for you darling,” she said as she kiss me on the forehead, leaving a sticky spat of oil that came from what she was eating. She always does that whenever we eat, or whenever she feel something is wrong or so. But I don’t mind and I just wiped it off. I’ve always loved her no matter what, even if she pisses me off sometimes and same as me to her. Yes, a gay-son-to-mother bonding. Very quotidian.

-o0o-

IT’S SEVEN O’ CLOCK and I’m late as crap. I grab my car keys and drove my good old Volkswagen Beetle as fast as I can just to catch up for work. Never knew I was a collector of classic cars, huh? Then, when I get there, Mr. Burton will surely blabbermouth about me again. Well, another super normal day for another normal man like me.

Citi Hardware

My gender preference may seem to disturb some of my friends. I’m gay to be specific. But not like those cross-dressers or what they call as “drags” everyone sees on TV, I’m just another average kind of gay with a masculine body type. I took up my bachelor’s degree in Philosophy at the University of the Philippines, and entered law school but unfortunately I wasn’t able to finish it because my sister had leukemia. We had to sacrifice my education and mom’s properties in order to provide for her medicine and chemo. Few months later, she passed. It was a deep heartbreak of loss. Mom and I decided to move to Legazpi after that. She’s the only family I’ve got, and I love her very much. My father died in a plane crash when I was 14 years old. He was working as a plane pilot when they met. Mom always tell us that Dad is the best man he’s ever had. No doubt about it. I miss Dad though.

During my free time I have been also working out also a little in a gym in the city, but not too often. Dark brown eyes and thick, black eyebrows. Tall and tanned skin with a broken heart crappy shit. Yes, it’s me.

I arrive at Citi Hardware store exactly 7:43. I work here from Mondays until Fridays. Surprisingly, I saw Mr. Burton waiting at the front desk. Fuck! Why is he staring at me like that? It gives me the creeps. He has some envelopes in his hands. Hmm. Maybe it’s the bills or letters from his friends, or maybe from our clients? Who damn cares about that anyway? But why on earth is he looking at me like that?

I look at him strangely with my left brow raised at him. I close it as soon as he directs his attention to mine. Mr. Burton is the manager of Citi Hardware here in Legazpi City. He accommodated me to work on a full time basis even though I don’t have a bachelor’s degree. Mr. Burton is a nice person though. He’s actually humorous but sometimes not. Anyway, I turn my attention to the papers he’s holding. But what could be the reason behind? Nah. As I near to him I greeted him with a warm, curiosity-filled smile.

“Good morning Mr. Burton,” I said. “You seem like your day has started great, huh?” I add as I gaze through the files on my table.

“Good thing you’re here,” Mr. Burton smiles sparingly at me while he looks at some papers and tosses them on the counter. I’m freaking out. What is he up to? Fuck. I’ve been a lot of craps lately and I don’t want to face another crap again. NO.

“You will no longer work here, Vince,” he says with a wolf-like grin at me.

“Someone wanted you to work for his company,” he says in dismay.

“I’m fired?” I’m filled with shock. My spine tingles with fear. What is going on with him? I need a job. I need money. NO. Mom will be very depressed.

This IS NOT HAPPENING.

“Yes and no,” he said as one of my workmates from the other desk hands him a bunch of papers.

“You’ll be working in another company,” he adds.

“Who? What company?” What the fuck did he just said? Did he sell me for something? Curse this old man. What is happening? I’m dead FURIOUS!

“He just got here earlier than you did. He asked if you still worked here and I said yes. And he wanted you to work for him,” he narrates.

“And what does that have to do with me?” I ask him looking horribly anxious.

“Gave me P5000 pesos kid,” he shrieks as he waves all the money on my pitiful and disgusted face.

“What!” I gave him a scowl.

“Here’s the address,” says Mr. Burton as he stretch his hand with a small piece of paper. It has a note on it. Some address and I don’t know where this is.

3/F PVPD Bldg.

Landco Business Park,

JPO Companies and Partnerships, Inc.

Legazpi City Branch

“JPO?” What the heck do these letters stand for? Does it stand for Jesse Porn Overseas or Jack Please Order? I don’t know what this is but it’s full of crap. I might end up dead when I go to this place. Dead meat, yes sirry!

“He says an old friend wants to see you again Vince,” adds Mr. Burton.

“I think you might wanna go and check it out. The guy said he’ll be waiting,”

“Whose waiting? For me? I’m nobody Mr. Burton,” I utter curiously as I raise one eyebrow at him.

“I think you just sold me to a stranger Mr. Burton,” I roll my eyes at him. He frustrates me. This is not really funny.

“That’s not very nice of you, Sir,” I sigh.

“Pay it a visit later after work kid,” he says while doing the inventory in the shop. He’s beginning to get busy. He might get pissed off at me soon enough. I should go. But wait. There’s no phone number. Who the hell is this? My face is painted with fear and curiosity. Nobody knows what will happen. Maybe he’s a good man? Maybe he’s nice. Maybe he’s. . . or maybe I’m overthinking this again. Make yourself up Vince. This is really a CRAP. Crap as crap.

Out of the blue, Mr. Burton strides back to me as he handed another pile of papers.

“Anyway, you have to take down this inventories Jessa made,” he pops out another topic.

“Yes Mr. Burton,” I replied politely.

(end of Part 1/12)

All rights reserved. 2017.

The Weird Poet (Leo Nekko Romero)

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Perks of Pessimism: 10 Reasons Why A Little Dose of Pessimism does the Trick

“I don’t think you’ll be able to overcome that,”

says a friend of mine while I was practicing for the upcoming interview.

I don’t understand why some people could be just so negative about some aspects of life. Why do they need to tell everyone that something bad’s gonna happen? Why do they need to tell everyone that they won’t make it? This negativity that surrounds these kind of people makes me wanna puke because of their attitude, but it is hilariously ironic especially when they achieve their goals in life despite all the negatives they think about themselves. Despite all the negativities other people think and say about them.

Pessimism-vs.-optimism-350x262

On the other hand, is it always practical to be an optimist? Does it help? Most would say yes because basically it has helped them get through various obstacles in life. It becomes a fuel that powers them up in order to get on with everything. So does this mean that I have to be as positive as I can in order to become successful?

Optimism is not as good as what it seems. There are some disadvantages that one must consider in order to be able to see what is good for a person in his struggle in his everyday life. Here are some reasons why you should consider being a pessimist:

  1. You become adaptable. A pessimist expects both the bad and the good things that may happen. He sees both sides, but gives more emphasis with the disadvantage posed by the negative side. Through this, he is able to cope up with certain changes that an optimist doesn’t expect at all–especially failures. You become more flexible and aware of the situation, and the consequences that may occur as a result.
  2. You make good decisions. People think that a pessimist is not a good decision maker. He is not able to do things in a good way and with good outcomes. That’s not true. Being a pessimist actually gives you the edge especially in analyzing the situation and giving the most realistic outcomes. In the end, you will be able to prepare yourself with possible contingencies especially when the situation gets tough.
  3. You destroy first impressions. They say first impression lasts. But then, if we cling to that kind of attitude, we will lose chances in getting to know who is really good and who is not. You become “the surprise” of the backstage. People will not expect, and when you go out there and achieve your goals, you’ll leave them with their mouths open!
  4. You reduce stress. Overwork and fatigue is not just the cause for acquiring tons of stress. Most people think that being a pessimist causes your own poison. Just give it a break. Remember, when you are able to expect the unexpected, especially huge let downs, you can just easily move on and go on with life! Easy-peasy!
  5. You become realistic. Being optimistic gives you the impression and belief that you won’t fail at all: that you will achieve everything you desire, and succeed in everything you do. Being an optimist gives away the impression of being a perfectionist–you don’t give room for any misgivings and lost chances. By being a pessimist, you are being able to realize that life is not a one-sided angle. You become aware that we are not living in a world where we can have things in accordance with our tastes and will. You become conscious about life as a pattern and bowl of ups and downs.
  6. You become stronger. As a human person struggling everyday, being dependent and lame will not help you achieve your goal. And as soon as you realize that not everything will fall into places, you become aware and more experienced about certain realities, and later, face new ones, head’s up!
  7. You achieve contentment. Optimists often say that it is positivity that drives you ahead of others. You become more competent and enthusiastic about grabbing every single opportunity that comes your way. But then as you do this, you become more and more inclined at achieving everything, and in the end, you achieve nothing at all, because you just won’t stop. You think everything’s with your pace.
  8. You become happy. To be happy is what we always want to have in life. In reaching our goals, negativities help us realize the virtue of self-worth and freedom. You start to appreciate smaller things, and find happiness even at the simplest bits of the bigger picture.
  9. You overcome fear. Optimists can also do this, but pessimists can do better. Fear is everyone’s common weakness. We fear failure, we fear rejection, we fear to become bored. If we can’t handle fear, we can’t handle pressure. If we can’t handle pressure, we become gullible to loneliness and slumber. By being a pessimist, one will be able to expect and later on realize that fear doesn’t matter at all. When a pessimist acknowledges the presence of fear, you start to realize that there’s nothing to be afraid of, that being afraid won’t help you grow. As soon as you do this, you overcome fear.
  10. You appreciate your existence. The more you become negative, the more you push yourself towards positivity. The negativity drives your life in order to appreciate it more. It gives you a realization that although nothing in this world is perfect, there are things in this world that needs appreciation, as what they are. You become more cautious about your actions and decisions, and you start to put your feet on the shoes of others.

Both-optimists-and-pessimists-contribute-to-society.-The-optimist-invents-the-aeroplane-the-pessimist-the-parachute.-George-Bernard-Shaw

Using pessimism as a way of achieving your goal in life is a goal-setter in helping you reach your dreams. It doesn’t mean that you have to attract all the negativities in the world, it only opens your eyes to the fact that this world is not confined only to creating great impressions, and expecting great results, expecting that good things will always happen. Life is not limited to that kind of attitude. A little dose of pessimism is needed in order for you to be able to adapt to certain changes that destiny prepares. It does not lead to depression because it’s you whose making the decision. It’s just a matter of letting you embrace the fact that there are certain negativities that you need to use to inspire you, and mold you into a strong, patient, and realistic person.

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Ghost of you

I still couldn’t believe what has happened
When you barged into my heart and left it open
Such wondrous misery that’s left unspoken
The ghost of you that haunts me ’til then

I sat on a bench under the shade of a tree
Thinking about the memories of you and me
My tears rolled down with anger and fury
While playing back that day I fell to you so quickly

Your presence was always the grandeur of the occasion
But you broke my heart without hesitation
I thought I was secured by our love’s convictions
But these things were just merely illusions

I lost myself and every single piece of it
Just because of you and this relationship
You gave me false hopes of having you as a gift
And made me feel love as just a transient

In truth I loved you with all finesse
But then I gave up because you were all the same
Your white lies is not what I deserved best
Because I loved you but you wasted the rest

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TWP is accepting poem submissions! 

Hello writers, bloggers, and poetry lovers!

Are you interested in writing poems like haikus, limericks, traditional, or free verse? Do you want to get an exclusive feature here on ‘The Weird Poet’ site?

Well, if you do, then prepare your pen, papers, and creativity because ‘The Weird Poet’ is now accepting poem submissions!

Guidelines:

  1. You can write poems in any way you like. If you want it short, make it short. If you want it long, make it long, provided however, that it does not exceed a maximum of 10 stanzas for traditional poems, and 25 lines for free verse poems.
  2. You can make it as a rhyming or non-rhyming, its up to you.
  3. Language is preferably English. But you can also send a poem composition in your native language, provided however, that a translation is sent along with it.
  4. Since this site is against censorship, writers are encouraged to be as real, outgoing, and authentic in their compositions. Provided that it does not contravene certain laws of morality and decency.
  5. Poems that tend to incite criminal acts, destroy a person’s reputation, and the other acts similar to the foregoing shall not be featured and considered rejected.
  6. You can only send a maximum of two (2) poems.

Send in your poems and tell us about a little about yourself, along with your name, location, and contact details to twpconnect@gmail.com, or send us a direct message on instagram @twpjournals on or before August 27, 2017.

Rest assured that all rights and credits shall be given to its authors.

Thank you for your continuous support to ‘The Weird Poet’! Happy writing!

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Haiku 174

Sweet words coming close,

Fixes the broken pieces,

And mends the torn hearts.

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Haiku 173

White-stained dress hanging

Like a scar you left hurting

Feeble excuses.

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