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Day 57: Write dumb poetry

26 Feb

Today for the whole day, my head hurt. It still does, in fact. And so, as is customary when trying to make someone who is in pain feel better, I wrote a poem dedicated to it.

I also just don’t like taking medicine for silly things like headaches and colds. I feel like my immune system should be better than this and do the fighting for me. And so I’m sorry, head. You are just going to have to ball up and take it like a champ. Here, have a poem.

A Plea to My Headache
(4 Stanzas in Increasing Intensity of Hatred)
by Niña

Dear headache, you crazy
You’re hurting my head
You’re making me useless,
Confined to this bed.

Dear headache, please leave me
And my head in peace
I really just want all this
Hurting to cease.

Dear headache, there are
many good heads out there.
So go and torment them.
Get out of my hair.

Dear headache, fuck off, yeah?
Before I attack.
Vacate my skull, douchebag
And never come back.

The end! See you tomorrow! It’s Oscars Day!


Day 23: Limerick of Apology

23 Jan

I know that singing is not my strong suit. Although I charmed the socks off my third grade Filipino teacher for my heart-warming rendition of Smokey Mountain’s “Kailan” and was therefore chosen as class representative for a grade-wide song number for Linggo ng Wika, I’ve gotten increasingly worse since then and have come to accept that I will never be the next Geneva Cruz. And so when I posted that video yesterday, I was well-aware that I wasn’t going to win any awards for it. I, however, was not expecting to be punished for it either.

I have a skull-splitting, brain-slushifying, mother-flipping headache.

When I was a kid, someone explained to me the concept of karma by saying that “if you did something bad today, karma will cause something bad to happen to you tomorrow.” I thought Karma was some sort of lady demigod whose job was to decide punishment for the bad things people do. And so sometimes when I’m in a certain degree of pain, I try to figure out what I’d done to piss Karma off.

I’ve had this headache since I woke up this morning and I’ve been thinking about what I could have done yesterday that was so bad that it would warrant a migraine of this magnitude. And the only thing I could come up with is that video I posted. I think Karma is a die-hard Elliott Smith fan and I don’t think she feels that I did the song justice.

And so for today’s task, I decided to write an apology to Karma in the hopes that it would help get rid of the drilling in my head. It’s called “Karma You’re a Bitch: A Limerick of Apology” and it goes a little something like this.

Dear Karma, I wanted to say
I’m sorry my voice ain’t okay.
You think that I suck
But I don’t give a fuck.
Just please make the pain go away.

Let’s see if this works. See you tomorrow.

Days 13, 14, 15 and 16: The Sketchbook Project

16 Jan

So I exiled myself to the land of no internet (the new apartment) last Thursday just so that absolutely all the time that I am not at work would be spent on my bloody sketchbook. Tumblr and Facebook tend to distract me for hours so I felt it was necessary. It turned out to be a wise decision indeed because I just found out, now that I’m back in ~cyberspace~, that photos from the new Spider-Man movie have been released since I’ve been gone and maaaan that would have been a giant, enormous, Andrew-Garfield’s-package-sized distraction and it would have sucked hours of my time and I wouldn’t have performed well on the task at hand. (Okay that last sentence needs to be un-dirty-fied but I can’t be bothered right now.) Not that I did very well on the sketchbook anyway. It was rushed and I barely made the deadline and I wish I could change some things on it but hey. It’s done. It’s been sent (from a real-live post office! I might make a post office related post someday because it was a glorious glorious place and it needs to be immortalized somehow. Perhaps in paint. Or pixels. Or popsicle sticks.) And it (the sketchbook, not the post office) will tour the country (this one) starting March and people from all over the place are gonna see it. It’s not exactly the most original artwork (and all the rushing made for some shoddy coloring) so it’s not a great way to represent myself to millions of people but I can’t really do anything about it now.

Oh and remember that story/poem I was writing about the astronaut boy? I finished it and it turned itself into a sort of comic book and that’s what I put into the sketchbook. That’s 232 lines of illustrated rhyming nonsense. And to make up for the lack of updates the past days, I’m posting a whole bunch of scans here. Some of these are going to be out of context so there are going to be mutilated speech bubbles and such. I also apologize for the handwriting. I was brought up being made to believe that I was put on this earth to be a doctor so I did not feel the need to improve my penmanship. Here we go.

This is Neil. I'd like to say that I usually draw better than this and blame the cramming for making it look like a child drew it but that would be a lie. This is just my style. It is also pretty much the extent of my drawing skills but saying it's "my style" justifies it somehow.

Introducing Walden P., my favorite character out of the whole thing. There's only 3 characters, by the way.

That's Walden's speech bubble from the previous page (rubbish drawing so I cropped it out har har).

The Set-Up.

His speech bubbles are in the previous page. It was a particularly cheesy bit of dialogue so I cropped that shit out.

Last frame! Yay!

Clearly, I won’t be getting a phone call from Marvel anytime soon. But I had to get that story out of my system so I could move on with my life. I think it turned out okay. I discovered that I misspelled something in it though, and that sucks because people will remember me for being that girl who couldn’t spell the word “before.”

I think spending the past 70 years of my life on this sketchbook sucked out all of the creativity out of my body and it’s going to take me a while to recover so the next posts are going to be gems of mediocrity and unoriginality. I am comfortable with that.

See you tomorrow!

Days 10 & 11: Birthday Greetings and a Rhyme Time Update

11 Jan

Our internet was being a bitch last night and wouldn’t let me upload my birthday card to Anne who’s birthday is today (yesterday, if you live in the Philippines). So here, Anne. I’m sorry it’s late. But it’s still the 11th here so this still counts!

"One day, we're gonna live in Paris. I promise. I'm on it."

As for today’s task of the day, I wrote the second chapter to that story I was writing about the orphan astronaut boy. It wouldn’t make much sense if you didn’t read the first chapter (which is over here), so go read that first. Done? Let’s continue, shall we?

“I guess I could visit my folks in their graves.
And live in their hometown perhaps.
I’ll probably stay at an inn or motel
and wait for the months to elapse.”

And so Neil drove back to the town he once lived in
before both of his parents died.
He went to the graveyard and paid his respects
then looked for a place to reside.

He rented a room in a tiny hotel
and went to the lobby cafe.
He figured it was a good place to hang out
and waste his whole summer away.

And so everyday he would sit in a booth,
just reading astronomy books.
The people who worked there thought this was peculiar
and started to give him strange looks.

But one day the waiter who usually served him
sat down at his table and said
“Is that all you do, man? Is there nothing else that
you’d like to be doing instead?”

At first Neil was taken aback by his bluntness
but answered the boy just the same.
“Quite frankly, I’m just passing time, Walden P.
And also, you have a weird name.”

“My mom likes Thoreau,” Walden said with a shrug
and went on with his inquisition.
“What brings you to town? What’s your job? What’s your name?”
So Neil talked about the Mars mission.

“You mean you just have one last summer on earth
And you’re wasting it reading in here?
Come on, Neil, get up. Put your textbooks away.
We’re going to get you a beer.”

And that’s that. I know it seems weird that Neil suddenly knows what the waiter’s name is. But this story is going to be heavily dependent on illustrations, I think. And it shall be illustrated that the waiter has a name plate on. Also, Walden P. is a weird name but I have my reasons! They may never be revealed in the story except for the explanation that his mom “likes Thoreau,” but it is imperative that that’s his name. It’s not even that important to the story but it is to me. And now I will shut up about this and watch me some Merlin go do other things.

See you tomorrow!

Day 7: Make a Birthday Card.

7 Jan

It is the 8th of January in the Philippines right now. And we all know what that means. It’s Don’s birthday! So here you go, Dondeeloo. A poem from me to you.

Go write on his wall if you haven’t already!

And see you tomorrow!

Day 3: Rhyme Time

3 Jan

I started my internship today. It was tiring. Also, we’re in the middle of moving into another apartment. So after work, I did that. No free time at all for me to even check my email. Much less, watch tv. Much much less less, do something productive. The tiredness is making my grammar like this. Blaaaargh. But I somehow managed to put together the beginnings of a story that I’m thinking of calling “Last Summer.” Here it is!

A long time ago, there once lived a young orphan
who dreamed about space exploration.
“Since I don’t have anyone left in this world,
I’ll live in an off-planet station!”

This boy’s name was Neil and he was really smart.
He got into space school for free.
He studied and trained hard and after twelve years,
acquired his spaceman degree.

He was quite ecstatic about his achievement
‘Cause soon he’ll be reaching the stars.
Imagine his joy when they told him that he
got picked for a mission to mars.

The crew would spend five years out on the red planet
for research and science-y stuff
to see if that world would be safe to inhabit.
“This mission will surely be tough!”

“We leave on the first day of autumn,” said Captain
“so y’all should just go home and chill.
And seeing as spring is just ending right now,
you have a whole summer to kill.”

The rest of the crew went back home to their families
but Neil didn’t know what to do.
‘Cause clearly, an orphan with no friends at all
had no one to come back home to.

That’s all I have so far. I’m so tired. Bleaeaeargh. See you tomorrow?