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Aciid's Stories.

Stalking Exercise #1 (Creative Writing)You are in

Non-Fiction
aciid
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Location: Saguijo, Makati Mood: Drunk Music: Musical Orgasm’s set You are in Makati. You are in that part of Luzon where the down and dirty southerners reside. We are filthy here, filthy poor, filthy rich, filthy boring in our business minded ways. Our malls are too expensive, our lives are too real, and reality is governed by how much we have in our pockets. We don’t know why, in Makati,...

Finger Printing

Poem
aciid
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Before you had any of it,you had been marking things with yourself.The dog can tell whether you had touched it,secretly, she backs away from everythingyou own. Fear is my strongest of you. Every constant thud, murmurs the first consonant on your name. I am afraid, not of what you do, but what you're not doing.Fear is my strongest impression of you.Every fall of crumpled paper murmurs you. In it, i...

This Image and Likeness

Poem
aciid
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I. There is much to tell you about suffering and about the beauty of faith – something in which I am afraid to sink into, something in which I am too young And too stubborn to fill with doubt: Up a tree, I know there is a god too graced from fallen, too subtle to be noticed unless the purpose of calling out in chorus collectively matters – this lonely god who only knows a love...

The Issue Before Lunch

Poem
aciid
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The sweetness, that’s what you had been complaining about all morning. The sweetness of everything that turns sour and bitter the instant you get to taste all of it – but I fear that you’ve just had enough of the cherries soaked in edible formaldehyde: sweetened in stupor you open your mouth, to say that you are sorry. And the hunger begins for me in this almost lunch. Y...

What I Have on Sundays

Poem
aciid
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Sundays usually smell like empty suitcases. My family, off to church, leaves me at home to fend for myself. This had been the routine as far as I could remember. On sundays, I wake up at around noon with a hangover and the fan still on, unchanged to the meekest of breeze settings. Moving, I go out of the room, and into my original bedroom that wafts off sunlight. The curtains are close...

from here i will pursue

Poem
aciid
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there was this talk about the straightness of lines, but I could not recall how a line can stretchso straightly for a length and for a time. in that while I had not been paying attention, in that event the notion of disbelieving was at a postulate's pace:"two points make up a line"Descartes convinces us.in my girlhood the conviction to pursue other notions had regarded a certain nothingn...

What You Need to Understand

Poem
aciid
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The sincerity of water cannot be merited, no lies, no truth but the distant body of existence. Look how existence is water that stretches out across a table, like a hand wanting to grasp the notion of warmth, this water that cannot feel anything: not even warmth or pain This pain stretches out through two oceans. You told me about the pain of separation, the want of distance to reconnect us. I hav...