Posted in EnglishRazor

3: What if…?

Konbanwa, it’s me again. Even though this is already my third post, I am still somewhat clueless as to how a blog really works, and what are its true uses. For now, I’m going to use it like a friend who will listen to my thoughts and stories. A fake friend, though, since real friends tend to get bored when the story gets too long.

Anyway, about the title, I thought about it while I was going home riding a jeep. Whenever I ride a vehicle, my mind tends to fly as fast as the car, unless I have someone else to talk with. So earlier, while absently watching the asphalt whiz by, I wondered, what if this happened, what if this never happened, what if I met this person… what if I never met this person. When the final phrase passed through my mind, I began wondering which person could my subconscious be talking about. As I shifted my gaze from the road to the jeep’s interior, my eyes fell upon a couple, holding each others’ hands warmly and lovingly. Then it hit me-I knew which person my subconscious was referring to.

It was my ex. If you know me to an extent, you’d know who she is.

So, I unchained my thoughts and let them fly around. What if I never met her? What if I went to school late on October 6, 2015? What if I didn’t have a glasses fetish? What if I decided not to talk to Ethan that day? My thoughts ran wilder and wilder as the scenery blurred past. What if I never really met her? Would I have these mixed emotions right now? Would I still be hurt? Would I have ended up with someone else? Would I have a chance with… her?

One by one, I tried to answer each question. If I never met her, most probably I wouldn’t be hurt this much. I wouldn’t have mixed emotions right now. I might even have ended up with someone else. Gosh, I might even have a chance to prove to her that I was here, ready to catch her if ever she grew so tired.

But if I never met her… all those sweet memories would not exist as well. The Centerpoint date. The sweet gestures. The holding hands, the hugs, the kisses, the I love yous, the feeling of soaring like an eagle. And most of all, the feeling of being complete.

But… if I never met her… then maybe I wouldn’t have to play hide-and-seek with her mom. Maybe the Social Studies faculty room won’t look like hell to me. Maybe both of us wouldn’t have to get crushed like a nut to a nutcracker. Maybe I’d still be NGSB. Maybe… I could have… made a move… first.

Damn, I’m crying now. Alright, I gotta wrap this up. When I got off the jeep, I knew that thinking all of these possible outcomes couldn’t possibly change anything. Thoughts cannot turn back the hands of Time. In this universe we live in, aside from gravity and farting, time is one thing we cannot control. However, it can change the way we decide. Maybe next time, I’ll think about every possible outcome that can happen from a certain decision. But doing that would be tedious, so in the end, all we can do is roll with it. This is your writer the EnglishRazor, tearfully logging off. Sayonara.

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Posted in EnglishRazor

2: Tears

Konnichiwa, it’s the EnglishRazor again. I’m currently cramming some assignments that were supposed to be done several days ago, but hey, when you’re the God of Cramming, you do what you gotta do, right?

But of course, even while cramming, or “multitasking”, as I like to call it, I still have to make time for my writing. It’s a sort of garbage chute, where I can discard the day’s stressful feelings. Not that everything I did, saw and felt today was garbage. Some were memorable, like that encounter with my ex earlier, but now’s not the time to dig deep into long-term memory.

So, why “Tears”? I was getting to that. Roughly 9 hours ago, we had our third meeting in CWE, or Creative Writing Elective. (Yes, I know some of you insist on shortening it to CreWri, but I like to keep the old times going.) Well, third meeting for me and Cheska. It was Jheroche’s first time, so she was understandably nervous. Not to brag, but I wasn’t nervous at all during the first meeting. I was chill. confident. Too confident, perhaps. I always neglect the fact that I’m not as sharp as my pen name. It’ll take years before I can truly be the EnglishRazor.

I went off the trail. Back to the topic. There were Faraday students with us (and don’t kill me for this, but I felt like I was in a room with god-level people) so it wasn’t too sparse, nor was the room too crowded. It was the “Goldilocks” class. I mean, you know how Goldilocks ate only the porridge that was just right, not too hot or too cold? Yeah.

Anyway, when we settled down, Ms. Pariente, our CWE adviser, gave us our first free-form writing activity. The experience was so new, so alien to me. I mean, write down anything, whatever comes to your mind. Don’t think about it, just write it. Being a person who is used to carefully and painstakingly planning everything that will be written down, I was thrown off-balance. So mustering what confidence I had left, I began weaving together sentences from random words and thoughts. My creation went something like this:

“What? What am I doing? How do you write without thinking? Green leaves, red, my thumb hurts, pens, kerchief… kerchief? Goldfish? What am I writing? What’s going on?”

When we were finished, the expected happened. Ms. Pariente asked us to read our works to the class. As I listened to the others, I felt like hiding under my chair and stay there until the world is dead from nuclear warfare. (Which is so far into the future.) I mean, everyone else’ works were so polished, so perfect. And mine was trash compared to them.

While a girl from Faraday was reading her work, she began crying. I felt really shy, because to me, seeing a person cry is like seeing something you’re not supposed to see. Maybe that was why most people cry in private. Then later on, while telling everyone about her favorite books, another girl teared up too. At that point I wanted to rip myself apart because seeing people cry, it makes me feel like I’m emotionless, heartless. Especially if the one crying was a boy. (Hello, Jayzer. xD)

This scene made me think what CWE really meant. According to Shin-nii, or The Iron Samurai (I find his account name hilarious for some reason), CWE stands for Crying and Writing Elective. Well… in writing, you do express yourself in a way no other activity can, so sometimes powerful emotions can be released.

Well, it’s twilight hour now, so I must take my leave. This is your crybaby writer EnglishRazor, logging off. Jaa ne, minna.

 

 

 

Posted in EnglishRazor

1: Me

Hey there, people… nice to meet you all. As this is my first blog post, I decided that you guys should know something about me first. I mean, that is usually the first thing you do when you meet someone you don’t know. You introduce yourself.

My name is Joshua Inopiquez. I have walked this lump of rock we call Earth for 16 years, 2 months, 4 days, 15 hours, one minute and 26 seconds. (These are legit calculations.) As such, I am the eldest of three children, and therefore am the tallest in the family. I live in a particularly busy area in Quiapo, Manila, but I have learned how to cope with the noise, confusion and robbers. (Yes, robbers.) As a Grade 10 student, I have endured 11 years of teachers, classmates, lectures, tests and the like.

As a teenager, you might classify me as “weird”, as how most people would. I watch anime, play cards, hang out with other weird people. But most weird people, from my point of view, are quite antisocial, or if they’re not, they have few friends. I am the complete opposite. For me, friends are the one people that will never be gone from your life. Family? They’ll grow up and have families of their own. Lover? It’s quite rare to have a perfect relationship, ya know. But friends? They will always be there, in every nook and cranny, albeit in different forms.

If you’re asking if I am popular with girls (I’m pretty sure you’re not), the answer is… no. I’m not handsome like some other guys, nor do I have charisma. I’m not even tall, by guy standards. But under all the outside imperfections is a heart of diamond. (Because gold is too mainsteam.) That does not mean I have a hard heart, it means I’m kind. Very, if I may add. You don’t believe? Test me out. My patience is longer than the distance between the sun and Earth (that’s 93 million miles). I try to help out people whenever I can. (Not all the time.) And it’s hard for me to get angry at someone. No, really. I tend to “put myself in someone else’s shoes” before I perform an action.

Also, not to brag, but I am a gentleman, most people just don’t see me do gentleman-like stuff.

Well, I guess that’s enough about me. I wouldn’t want people to know too much about me. By the way… now I’ve been on Earth for 16 years, 2 months, 4 days, 15 hours, 19 minutes and 5 seconds. (Such calculations.) This is your noob blogger EnglishRazor, logging off. Jaa ne.