Johnny's Hammy Christmas

Poor Johnny. Such a sickly man. We always see him lie like a veggie on Christmas days. We really do not know what’s up with him. The old man says it’s a curse. I don’t know. No one puts a curse on Christmas. Doctors can explain anyway. He gets the worst fever and the worst tonsillitis ever on Christmas day. He can barely talk, and sing. He’s a choir man by the way. And we think he’s the most frustrated man ever on such a jolly day. It’s supposed to be the time for them to go out and sing carols. Unfortunately, he could not be one of them… always. We heard the choir leader say, “broken chords again, Johnny? They say it’s the vocal chord. I don’t know what it looks like. But Jovan says it’s one that you use when you sing. Well, Johnny’s a good singer. I didn’t know he needed to plug something to have a good voice.

We always see him turn away and go back home when he hears his friends sing Christmas hymns. I bet he really couldn’t take it. We get worried sometimes…only less, though. Unlike his mom. She keeps running from one doctor to another. But she’s already had a word with all the doctor’s in town. “Give him a rest” “Rest!” “Take a rest” “it’s just rest” “Rest.” “Rest.” “Rest.” That’s what they say. So she went to another doctor in a nearby town.

Her mom’s a good person. We always get a ball of ham from her on Christmas. She said Johnny always asks for ham and so she buys a lot. But Johnny does not like ham. He told me ones about this. Hams taste good because they come from human flesh. And Victor Frankenstein made them to earn money on Christmas. But my mom said that the blue fairy took all the bad hams on earth and changed them into real meat hams. So, I didn’t believe him.

But they always have a lot of them (hams) on Christmas. From time to time we hear Johnny bail. And then we see her mom go out. “He’s asking for a new one (ham). Maybe a different brand,” she tells my mom. I don’t understand.
Then there goes Johnny again. “ Hahm…they told me hahm, hahm, huhm, hahm, hahm…,” sounding like an ogre. And there goes her mom again. “His friends say it’s the cure…ham…,” she told my mom. But Johnny never eats them. And so they end up giving them away.

I thought Johnny was only trying to sing. Don’t know, don’t care. At least it’s a hammy Christmas.

The World's Cliche is Mine

Strike 1,000! There has never been a day in my life that they don't quarrel, and never a day that he doesn't get mad. What's up with him? What's up with these species? Don't they get reflection hours? Don't they get realization instincts? I mean, come on! You guys are driving me nuts! You're planting hate in me. You're nourishing rage! You're molding all the death- wishes and the suicidal tendencies! And you think I like it? Crap! You're making hell on earth!

The world's such a wonderful place, you know? I've seen a lot of things worth appreciating and a million more undiscovered beauties! It's a good life I want to live and I'm taking great effort for it. But you're slowing me down. Your minds pull me! What are you crabs? This is insane. Psychedelic!

How am I suppose to continue my titanic dreams when you pre- occupy me? I hope you guys know how I really want to be a writer. I hope you understand how the urge of being a great composer is eating me. I understand you are disturbed people brought by your own frustrations. But that does not mean you have to include ME with your kind of life. That does not mean I have to experience the same thing.

You can't be mad if I see your mistakes. I didn't mean to. I just spotted them. They're too obvious.

Now, people start saying I act like you. And it's making me mad. I don't want to be like you guys. Never. It could be the worst thing to happen!

As if I have a choice...There's just no escape. It's there.

You fill my write- ups. You fill my article. THIS article! My songs live because of your psychedelic memory. And you always leave them hanging. Asa na man ang tuldok? Ibutang na! Put an end to these miseries. They're not helping me. My corpse can't grit on them. Never, too, my soul.

Give me the best memory that a life can live. Mold me the best attitude in the world. Plant peace, grow love. It's a cliche, I know. And it remains a cliche until you make a move. Move it! Now!