This Ghost Learns to Write

Okay, I’ve always loved books. I devour them, I absorb them. And if people would stop commenting on my state of mind and insisting I wear a straightjacket, I would’ve married a nice young book years ago to give me little book children.

Books shaped my life. Through reading, I learned how to write. And by learning to write, I took up Journalism in college and graduated with that degree.

I was thirteen when I borrowed this fun book from my classmate. It was R.L. Stine’s Goosebumps. I’m pretty sure you’re familiar with that one. Don’t Go To Sleep! was so exciting I decided to write a story too, in the style of Mr. Stine.  

Of course, my writing clock back then ticked just between ‘amateur hour’ and ‘derpy mediocre’, but I was so excited and proud of my first creation that I forced my friends into reading it. I wasn’t imaginative enough to create my own characters so the story featured me and my friends. I wrote it in my intermediate pad and started something like this:

“Give me back my pen, you stupid dork,” I shouted at Mark as I chased him around the classroom. When he didn’t stop, I picked up a textbook and threw it at him, hitting him in the face.

That scene was inspired by something that actually happened around that time in class. I was so annoyed with my classmate, Mark that  I did throw something at him. It was a lampaso (dried coconut husk used for scrubbing waxed floors into awesome shininess).

Anyway, the story ended with:

The last thing I remembered was the bloody foot walking to Adrian.

Since then, I’ve written a lot of shorts. Almost always, I didn’t get to finish them. I remember one involving a camping trip (inspired by our class’ actual educational tour to Legazpi City) where the kids have to lock themselves in the school bus to fend off a horrible monster.

This Ghost At School

Actually, I wrote this last year as a requirement for our Foreign Languages professor, Kim Jin Gyoon. I don't why he made us write something like this (when we were supposed to be learning Korean letters and chiming, "Aneong hasimnika!", two days a week) but I guess he had his reasons.

Maybe it's a Korean teacher thing; or he just wanted to know his Filipino students better. But wherever you are, Sir Kim, I hope you're doing okay. :D

This Ghost at School  

This Ghost and His Dreams

I knew the weirdest dreams happen at 3am but that didn’t stop me from winking off right around that time earlier this morning.

My two-hour Facebook rule didn’t happen. I settled for online awesomeness at 11am Sunday night, glanced at the time for what seemed like 10 minutes later and discovered that it was already a quarter past 2am, Monday morning. My, my how time flies.

It might explain my itchy eyes and cramped right hand, plus a headache. I jumped down the bed and moved over to the mirror to see if I looked as bad as I felt. 

I looked okay. But sleep, sleep. I needed my sleep.

So I got on the top bunk again, murmured my prayers (I don’t look it but I always pray before sleeping) and sighed as a bunch of ZZZs fell off the ceiling and sucker-punched me to Dreamland.

Like I said, the weirdest dreams have a party before dawn. So I wasn’t that surprised when I saw Snoop Dogg and Sharon Cuneta (this Filipino movie actress) arguing at a game show. I couldn’t remember the details clearly; dreams are most often foggy. But I do remember the argument between the two getting heated. I woke up just after Snoop called Sharon a fat ass. 

That didn’t seem very fun, so after I noted my sisters getting ready for work, I pulled at Mr. Sandman’s beard to take me back to sleep.

This person was crying all over me. And we were like, holding each other. It felt good to be hugged so neither of us let go. When the hugging turned to kissing, I knew somehow that it’s gonna be more interesting than a hug between friends. 

To my disappointment, I woke up before we put it down; before we executed the humpback maneuver; before the two-shot crotch touch or whatever it is they call sex these days.

The happenin’ didn’t happen. But as I ate breakfast later, I couldn’t help but think about that kiss. A lot. It still gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling. It’s an intimacy I never felt for real before. :D

Mostly, I wanted to get laid, in my sleep at least. I’m still virgin. 

This Ghost is Crushing

Well, this is awkward. I’ve always been leery talking about ‘em; never mind the fact that I wrote Why This Ghost Doesn’t have a Girlfriend’, which is about my admiration for the girl, Yoyie. 

I remember the time Gino, my classmate used to pester me about it. 

“Nakay intersaduhon ka sa buhay ko?” (Why are you interested in my life?) I’d ask him. 

He used to do it when we’re alone. Perhaps he was bored during those times. Gino and I weren’t exactly close; we’d talk, we’d go on our way and we respected that distance. 

Most of the time anyway, and then he’d take it upon himself to dig into my love life. 

“Ikaw ang pinaka-misteryoso digdi sa klase, wara ako masyado aram sa gusto mo,” (You’re the most mysterious guy here in class; I don’t know much about you) he’d say. 

And then he’d launch into: “Do you like girls?” “Who’s the girl you like?” “Do you like boys?” Usually, one of my classmates would come along to interrupt, or I’d just smile, shake my head and leave. Or something would distract him, and he’d leave. 

Until the next day. Then, it’s the same old questions all over again. 

I never had a girlfriend but I’ve crushed on some since I was old enough to think about sweet, lovey-dovey things. I hope you’re satisfied, Gino. This is practically my love history here. :P

This Ghost's Friends

Okay, let me just say that writing about my own life is getting a bit harder now, and this is only my second real post, mind you. I guess all those years of not confiding anything to anyone is taking its toll that even I can’t confide in me. You get what I mean, right? 

It’s not easy for me. Being friendly, pouring out all my feelings to someone, emotional displays; those are things I don’t normally do. I’ve always had this emotional bubble wrap around me that stops people from getting too close, which might explain why I never had a bestfriend, and the reason why some people who’ve known me for years still don’t get me. 

Childhood years have always been ripe for budding friendships. For me, not so much. When I was little I’d go out, play with the neighborhood kids, have fun, talk each other silly, play some more. But at the end of the day, I realized now, even if all my playmates suddenly upped and left, I wouldn’t really care. I’d notice our block devoid of ongoing patintero and hide-and-seek games and I’d just shrug, “Oh well.” 

It’s always been that way, even when I was in grade school. Emotional disconnect. No bestfriend, just some classmates who’re fun to be with. 

I’m not saying I’m an outcast, or an introvert. I’m not any of those. What I am is moderately sociable; and even if I’m in a hug-touch basis with my friends, I don’t lay out everything to them. I still have a bit of a reservation; and that’s something that’s important to me. 

I may not have THAT bestfriend but GOOD FRIENDS I got plenty. They are those who are SO COMFORTABLE to be with that I’d be almost willing to tell them EVERYTHING and spend all the hours of the day with them without getting sick of the same-old, same-old.

This Ghost's Family

This is This Ghost's first post. And as always with This Ghost, family comes first. 

It’s all about my parents—my Pa and Ma; and my siblings-- Jane, Dward and Dith. 

Let's begin. :D

Pa and ma at Fish & Co. in TriNoma. April 2008.

The 'Rents.

Okay, a gauche topic—talking about the ‘rents—although they don’t have any problem whatsoever talking about me to their friends; sometimes even to strangers! And then they do it as if I’m not inches away.

But still, I can’t help but love them. I mean, they did raise me. And sappy as it may sound, they love me and made sure my sibs and I got everything we need.

As I write this, my Ma is asking me through text how I was doing. Now that my Kuya and his wife and daughter moved out to their own house at the Village last June, and I’m staying here in Manila with my sisters, my Ma and Pa now have the house to themselves.

It’s almost like they were starting over.

I think my Ma’s missing me, which is nice. She might’ve conveniently forgotten that I being in the house with them is total chaos. I play loud music; I don’t pick up after myself; I’m too lazy for house chores and I generally make a pest of myself. Plus, I go overboard when I buy the groceries.

My Pa and Ma married young. And I give them a thumbs-up for eloping. Fact is, my siblings and I wouldn’t have been the fastest swimmers in our respective batch if my parents had delayed the HAPPENIN’, if you know what I mean. And I’m so relieved that I was born on October 23, 1989, to the happiness of those waiting for me to go screaming outta my Mama’s.

Probably they weren’t as happy when I hit puberty, but that’s just me talking.