The first trilogy of the book.

The Story of my life(part 1)

Chirp! Chirp! I awake at the sound of birds singing outside of my window. Gee, its 6:00am and I have to do my walking as remedy for my hypertension. I quickly got up, put on my jogging pants, wore my socks and walking shoes and put a sweater on. As I went downstairs I prepared rice through a rice cooker which will cook in 45 mins just in time I am back from my exercise. I then took my medicine and head out for walk.

While taking my brisk walk, I chanced on my laundry woman and asked her if my clothes are done. She said they are done and ready to be picked up. I said I will have to go back after I am done with my exercise and pick up my dried washed clothes.
Walking through well paved streets, I get to bump women that are too beautiful in the morning as they head out their way to school and work.
Some were just taking strolls to the market, some coming out of a nearby inn with their boyfriend holding their hand like normal lovers do.

I went on and decided to stop and grab a meal from a karinderia, only to discover that my favorite shrimp omelet and ginataan ( vegetable done in coconut milk ).
I moved to another karinderia and got myself a breaded eggplant and some nice vegetable which has squash and some some leaf on it.
After, I headed home and got my plate and uensils ang tools
I ate like a king. Slowly savoring the breaded eggplant while it is mixed with the vegetable.
Then I stood up, brought used plates and utensis unto the sink and washed them and have it dried up. Slowly after, I climbed the wooden stairs that made some creeking sound like how haunted houses would sound on some haunted movie.
As I hit the 2nd floor, I headed to my room, dived to my bed and got my mobile data on and logged on to a chat app named Near Group. I waited for a match of my profile. Blink! blink! went my mobile indicating a message has arrived.
I looked on it and smiled. The app has found a match and found myself chatting with a woman residing in an island eight hours away from where I am.

Her name was resembling that beautiful actress of High School Musical and I suppose shes just as gorgeous as the actress.
She was warm, cautious, formal and yet she maintained the youth that I once have been familiar of during my young adolescent stage.
Like a budding rose
She breathe the scent
Of a woman in bloom
Ever gorgeous to behold
That was the poetry that was flowing through my mind like what they would call now as Last Song Syndrome or LSS. I blushed with every thought that came to me as we chatted. Yet, deep inside, I had this trauma like ghosts that wont leave me be.
Like ghosts that scare my nerves, I worry if I would be understood as I feel I am out of my league in this millenial age. I feel that my generation has passed and I am stranded in this new world where I am left trying to relate but cant be easily understood.
I still dared to open myself up piece by piece hoping not to scare away this person I am having a conversation which has the power to block me like a trigger of a gun that will blow me off and leave me dead.
We ended the conversation with an exchange of a Messenger accounts. Gee, I look awful on my profile pic. I look so composed unlike my natural posture that I am more of a anti-social and non-conformist stance that I truelly am.
I was looked happy but nervous. I reminded myself to keep my emotions hidden and tied to my heart like horses on their stables.
Like some flu it sweeps
Rushing through my veins
Consuming every part
Fanning flames and ashes
As the day aged to a sunset, my eyes became teary and wanted to celebrate but I had to restrain it for it was not right at the moment to do so.
I told myself that life is different now than before. When sunset was something for me to have a nice drink at rhe beach, now it is something for me to grieve beneath my thick wollen blanket that cover me from the cold of the night.

I said my goodbye to her as she to me as we retire to rest and think things over. I was happy and hopeful that she will be someone authentic enough to stay and be a good friend. A lot I had talked too but a lot vanished into thin air in a puff of smoke leaving me wondering what did I do wrong.

I placed the headset of my red Sony mp3 player and had Smashing Pumpkins blasting through my ears. Today, this band is an Old School and the heck they call....what is then music this days? I begin to think as my thoughts still locked in the memory of the woman I had a wonderful conversation with.

As the song, Hummer serenades my ears, my eyes started to close and drift to hopes and nice thoughts that tomorrow will be a new day, a new beginning, a new start.

My hands clasped in anticipation and vigilance of the dawn that is about to kiss my checks and whisper good morning to my ears that have bleed because of lies that it has heard before over and over again. This time, I hope this isn't so. I shall await the morning that is to come.....