artleviste (joined over 8 years ago)



We all are peasants.

I am a peasant, endlessly tilling the vast land of my master. I have a perpetual inclination to become a slave for lack of education.

Still, I am not ashamed of what I am. My legacy, which I have inherited from my forefathers, will go on for posterity's sake. My sons and daughters will continue to till land. But I guarantee that the land would be theirs to cultivate, for I am about to storm the walls of my master.

May God have mercy on his soul!

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One scoop chocolate, one scoop blood.

I went inside the intensive care unit and felt the humid air. Everyone--mum, Paulie, Randy and grampa--was there. I approached dad's bed and leaned my right ear to his mouth.

He was asphyxiating, and there's no doubt he's going to get through another day. Yet, his words echoed through my head like a whisper resounding inside a cave.

I told him I just did the regular errand and took care of some things for him. He stopped.

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