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Wonder #1: Titanic & Beyond*

by kebe.tumblr.com
written and submitted September 13, 2011

JACK
Rose, listen to me. Listen. Winning that ticket was the best thing that ever happened to me. It brought me to you. And I’m thankful, Rose. I’m thankful. You must do me this honor… promise me you will survive… that you will never give up… no matter what happens… no matter how hopeless… promise me now, and never let go of that promise.

ROSE
I promise.

But that was just talk. Rose asked Leo to climb up the wooden door to be with her but unfortunately, a Shark From The Future (could be from The Beach) magically appeared (of course, it did) and tugged at her (YOU’RE SO STUPID, ROSE!). Leo played a little bit of tug-of-war with the SFTF but the STFT was all like Catch Me If You Can, proving Leo just wasn’t The King of the World (or Ocean, if you like) and Rose went bye-bye into the deep, cold ocean.

And so it was Jack who went out of it and went on, who went to make babies and watched them grow, who died an old man, warm in Limbo with Mal in Inception.

____

*Just a little sample, kind of an encouragement that there are no limits on what you may do with your re-imagined favorite movie scenes! This one is sort of both a script and a narrative.

Twisted

by kebe.tumblr.com
written and submitted April 2, 2011

I used to believe in a lot of things. Like how everything was going to be better when I’m older. That I was going to have more fun and money and freedom and all the things I could not have back when I was younger. Like how studying in the country’s best school was going to make my life for me. That I do not have to undergo so much hardships anymore because I already went through a lot during my academic years. Like how landing a job in one of the country’s top companies was going to fulfill my career. That I was going to be beyond grateful just being there, not asking for anything better because I was already living my “dream.” But after listing all these? Now, I just think, “Wow, I believed in so much bullshit.” I don’t mean to sound so angry-at-the-world or like the biggest ingrate ever or anything, because, just for the record, I’m really not. The point is, I just want to share a little piece of advice: Be careful in choosing what you believe in. It’s a twisted world and we’re bound to have twisted lives. I should know, I was brought up a very positive thinker and now I have written this.

Boring

by kebe.tumblr.com
written October 14, 2005

10.17am
I am sitting here outside Victoria Plaza with two ladies beside me, waiting for the mall to open. I look at them and ask to myself how they can endure the boredom and agony of waiting.

I am now looking at jeepneys on the road. I hate jeepneys. People say we should be proud of them because they are a reflection of our culture. Really really really? Because I hardly feel that way. To me, they’re trash. Although, to be fair, they’re useful trash because they provide us transportation. But they look dirty. Not art. I really can’t believe how most Pinoys regard them as a mirror of our culture. Are we trash? Are we not art? Are we dirty?

10.35am
The mall has opened. Finally. I will follow these two ladies before I go to the grocery, see if their lives are as boring as waiting.

Ketchup

by KB (kebe.tumblr.com)
written September 28, 2010

I didn’t want to go. How come I’m here?

Watching my little brother smear ketchup on his white Power Ranger shirt.

Watching my mom pass the dish of atchara to my dad who is reminding my granma not to eat the burnt parts of her pork barbecue.

Watching my grandad cough over his cup of soup.

Watching myself feeling bitter about being here. I could have been watching TV at home. My favorite show is probably airing its best episode right now. Or I could have been reading one more Nancy Drew book in my bed.

I tear a bit of the banana leaf on my bamboo plate.

"Hey, why aren’t you eating anything?"

Not now, Mom. Not now.

"Later," I say but she still hands over a stick of grilled gizzard.

Can my mom get any more pushy? I know she knows I don’t like it. Gizzard rhymes with lizard, which is enough to make me gag.

I’m still also mad at her for dragging me out here. I mean, this is nice and all. Quality time with family. Having dinner by the sea….

… smelling like fish while we’re eating grilled legged animals. Mom, question. Why are we here when you can cook and we have a dining room and air conditioning at home?

"Can you pass me one more barbecue, please?"

Trust my brother to interrupt my peace. Ew, he now has ketchup all over his mouth and cheeks. He is so weird. Barbecue is supposed to be dipped in soy sauce. I pass him a stick from my plate, anyway.

"How come you’re not eating yet??? You don’t like the food??? What do you want??? Look, your daughter’s not eating anything!!! Is she sick??? Do you feel sick???" I think Granma may have laser eyes. And laser voice.

"I’m just not hungry." I stand up. "I have to go pee."

I walk towards the back of the restaurant. I feel a bit heavy, a bit dizzy, a bit lazy.

Even I don’t know what is wrong with me. I usually like going out. Usually like eating out. Usually like being out with family. Usually like dining in seaside restaurants. Usually like the sea. Usually like barbecue.

I reach the restroom. I sit on the toilet. I stare at the door and my underwear while I do my thing. Gross, I know, staring at my underwear.

My underwear. Oh my, what is that? What is on it?

Had I accidentally spilled ketchup on my lap and it soaked through? But I wasn’t eating.

Did my brother creep up to me under the table? Well, he can be that disgusting. But I would have known it, would have felt it. Besides, I was watching him eat, coloring Power Ranger Blue’s white boots red.

I look again. I really am gross.

Am I sick? Maybe I should tell my mother. I pull up my shorts, step out of the cubicle and run back to our table.

"What’s wrong?" My face must have shown it. Oh, Dad. I don’t think I can tell you.

I turn to Mom. “Let’s go home. Please. I’m not feeling so well. We might need to go to the hospital.”

She reaches out and puts a hand on my forehead. “You’re not running a fever. What is wrong?”

I lean over and whisper, “There’s something… on my underwear… in the toilet.”

"You found a stain on your underwear?"

"What??? What is it???" Great! Now I have Granma’s attention. I didn’t know she also had laser hearing.

"Was it red? Did it look like blood? Something like this?" Mom holds up a table napkin she must have used to wipe my brother’s mouth.

I keep quiet. For a long time. Then they laugh. All of them. Wait, did I miss something?

"Awwwww. I think you just have gotten your period! Probably why you are acting all cranky. Come on, let’s go to the rest room again. Let me take a look."

Oh, nooooo. Mom, don’t drag me again. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to know.