Pounding The Keyboard

After all your blood have been drained, That’s when they would treat your wound. After you became blind, That’s when they’d give you a book to read. After you’ve lost both your feet, That’s when they'd show you the joy of running. After you’ve cut your tongue off, That’s when they’d be ready to hear you sing. After you’ve lost both your arms, That’s when they’d teach you to draw. After you’ve died of a nightmare, That’s when they’d wish you ‘sweet dreams.’ And while you’re sealed inside a coffin, Waiting to be turned into ashes, That’s when they’d write you the sweetest eulogy.

                    I didn’t know this song ("Count On Me" by Bruno Mars) existed until I heard my almost three year old (34 months to be exact) precocious nephew singing it while playing some games on our tablet. Yes, singing, not just humming. His mother didn’t know who taught him the song. My take on it is, since he loves numbers and the alphabet and loves to search YouTube videos about them, he accidentally stumbled upon the exact video above and played it and liked it and sang along with it (he can already read). His rendition of the song was so spot on ( we loved how he crooned the “ooohh, ooohh, yeah! yeah!” part) that we ended up singing with him. We probably sang the song 37 times.        After that, after a few minutes, I heard him singing “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran, so I turned worriedly to his mother and told her I’d be lending her my   CDs (Pink Floyd, Beatles, Radiohead, Faith No More, U2, Metallica, Nirvana, etc) and let the boy listen to it so he’d

      I’d been sick the whole day (very painful dry cough; first time I’ve experienced it) and my medicines hadn’t been effective so I sought the help of the Internet. And it just confirmed my worst fears, the Internet, true to its form,   said I had a cancer and it’s malignant and at the stage where it’s already incurable, So I better make my last will and testament now and write good-bye letters to my loved ones.       Stay away from the Internet when your sick, they said, it will turn your cold into the worst disease the mankind have known. So I closed my browser and turned off my computer to just rest. Unfortunately, after the monitor's screen turned black, I remembered that I needed to email a file, so I turned it on again.       But my computer failed to beep back to life—it remained dead, as if scared that I would go back to Internet to again research about my sickness. I could almost hear it screaming, “No, sir, I will make sure that you stay away from the

      Lift up your hearts and sing me a song      That was a hit before your mother was born      Though she was born a long long time ago      Your mother should know      Sing it again...                               "Your Mother Should Know," Beatles       In the action/comedy movie Gringo (released just this year and which I was able to watch just a few days ago), which starred Charlize Theron (there are other lead stars but she’s the only one I can remember, lol), a Mexican drug cartel leader loves to ask his new acquaintances if they love the Beatles. If yes, he will ask them what they think is the Beatles’ greatest album. An answer not to his liking will have dire consequences. The greatest Beatles album for him is, unfortunately, Let It Be —it’s probably part of the joke.       If you’d ask me what I think is the best Beatles album, I’d answer Revolver ("Eleanor Rigby," "Here, There And Everywhere," "For No One,"

      I remembered that I’ve been planning on writing flash fiction, collect it and probably, just probably, self-publish it when I read this article on yesterday’s issue of Philippine Daily Inquirer about an 11 th grader from International School Manila winning in an international writing contest for teens, flash fiction category.   Flash fiction, of course, consists of stories that are only a few hundred words long. I am particularly bent on writing drabble s ( stories that are told in exactly one hundred words) or micro stories (which are told in 300 hundred words or less) or maybe mini sagas (stories that are exactly 50 words long). I will probably try to fulfill that more than a decade-old plan this year (the writing part; the publishing, I don't know). It's hard to think about publishing when you've only got around five potential buyers.       Here's a sample of a micro story I just wrote, please bear with it: The June Bride       He smiled