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veejericaodd

Philippines

INFP-T. Lazy writer. Misunderstood. I write what I want.

@veejericaodd on Wattpad, Twitter and Instagram.

Message from Writer

Hello fellow writer, have a good day of writing.

Sincerely,
That Girl Who Looks Like Sadako From "The Ring"

Published Work

Sun and Moon

The sun shines
It hit the sky
It made everything bright.

The sun goes down
The night replaces
What was white and turned it black

It brought the stars
Some dots in the sky
The moon shined
A stolen light at the sun

The sun returns
And with it the intensity
It burned the grasses
And made it black

It touched the skin
It gave a tan
A poison to the streams
But a delight at the front

The moon pushes the sun again
With such intensity it burst
The lights went out and with it the stars
All we can see is darkness
And the outline of what was the moon.

Op-Ed Competition 2019

Mother Justice: The Blind and Deaf Judge

Mother Justice is not only blind. She’s also deaf.

I always believed that justice would prevail in the end, that regardless of your financial status, the eyes of law would not fail at seeing the truth. Politicians might be corrupt, but you can always trust the lower echelon of the government—the policemen and government workers—to do their duties on behalf of a nation. But my time as an intern on the Parole and Probation office at the Hall of Justice proved me wrong. It seems that freedom and power, on most occasions, could only be gained by money, just as justice could be blinded by a four to six figure bribe or reward.

As an intern, I mingled with various clients on probation. I talked to them and learned their story. As an intern, I was a common visitor of our local prison, interviewing prisoners who want to avail probation in a small colony inside a four-sided chicken wire wall...

New Land

I've made my stand
I stood up straight amidst the dark
I had myself as the only guide
Walking on a place that I cannot flatten

I have tripped many times
I fell flat on the ground
With my face hitting the stones
Despite the bruises and wounds--I rose up
Looking black and blue in a place where light is a dream

I walked and walked and never stopped
My shoes may be gone
and the wounds untreated--bleeding
But I will never stop

Not when the storm brews
Or the sand flies
I might falter at every step
But it wouldn't be the end

No--it will never be the end
Not when the new way is undiscovered
Not when the land is full of blocks
I will brave the unknown
Go the distance barefooted and thin
I would not stop until I reach
The blinding sun that awaits

Op-Ed Competition 2019

Mother Justice: The Blind and Deaf Judge

Mother Justice is not only blind. She’s also deaf.

I always believed that justice would prevail in the end, that regardless of your financial status, the eyes of law would not fail at seeing the truth. Politicians might be corrupt, but you can always trust the lower echelon of the government—the policemen and government workers—to do their duties on behalf of a nation. But my time as an intern on the Parole and Probation office at the Hall of Justice proved me wrong. It seems that freedom and power, on most occasions, could only be gained by money, just as justice could be blinded by a four to six figure bribe or reward.

As an intern, I mingled with various clients on probation. I talked to them and learned their story. As an intern, I was a common visitor of our local prison, interviewing prisoners who want to avail probation in a small colony inside a four-sided chicken wire wall...

Op-Ed Competition 2019

Mother Justice: The Blind and Deaf Judge

Mother Justice is not only blind. She’s also deaf.

I always believed that justice would prevail in the end, that regardless of your financial status, the eyes of law would not fail at seeing the truth. Politicians might be corrupt, but you can always trust the lower echelon of the government—the policemen and government workers—to do their duties on behalf of a nation. But my time as an intern on the Parole and Probation office at the Hall of Justice proved me wrong. It seems that freedom and power, on most occasions, could only be gained by money, just as justice could be blinded by a four to six figure bribe or reward.

As an intern, I mingled with various clients on probation. I talked to them and learned their story. As an intern, I was a common visitor of our local prison, interviewing prisoners who want to avail probation in a small colony inside a four-sided chicken wire wall...

Op-Ed Competition 2019

Mother Justice: The Blind and Deaf Judge

Mother Justice is not only blind. She’s also deaf.

I always believed that justice would prevail in the end, that regardless of your financial status, the eyes of law would not fail at seeing the truth. Politicians might be corrupt, but you can always trust the lower echelon of the government—the policemen and government workers—to do their duties on behalf of a nation. But my time as an intern on the Parole and Probation office at the Hall of Justice proved me wrong. It seems that freedom and power, on most occasions, could only be gained by money, just as justice could be blinded by a four to six figure bribe or reward.

As an intern, I mingled with various clients on probation. I talked to them and learned their story. As an intern, I was a common visitor of our local prison, interviewing prisoners who want to avail probation in a small colony inside a four-sided chicken wire wall...

Cross

I want to go where there is silence

I want to pack, to take my valuables and forget my name

I crave for the time when every men would only be men

For the time where every mask is a River Nile







I want to wander in a land so far away

Where once upon a time is real, and every one has a happy ending

I want a prince charming, ready to kiss a beggar princess

I want an eye so blind it forgets the next morning





I want the blackness gone, dispersed in the wake of the night

So if I couldn't go where there is silence, I wouldn't fear for the dark

And if everything persists, I will close my eyes

Crossing my heart, as I hope to die



White Flag

There will come a time when you'll wake up
And realize how heavy the world is
How each step is a battle, and how everyone grips their knife

There will come a time where all you want is to close your eyes
To be drowned in the sea of  lullabies, to the soft tune of slumber, its wandering beat
Beaconing you to the light ahead.

There will be times when a sea is the way, inviting you to join it
There will be moments when the call surfaces, teasing the offered end in whispers
There will be stray thoughts of white flags and listing red marks, the possibility of a golden gate and the wings
But never bow to them—never
Because for all the white flag shows the end, it can never show the way.

Album Review Competition 2018

Album Review: Trip Of Dreams by Gloc-9

Walk the slipper in the mud/ Step even if it’s hard/ Your feet would be dirtied/ A sign of your effort/ Rise up to the challenge/ Fight and you won’t fail/ Go with the flow/ Together we’ll raise the sail.

Do you recognize the fierce and inspiring lyrics above? Well, you probably don’t, because those lines are a translated version of “Tsinelas sa Putikan” (Slipper in the Mud) by Gloc-9, a Filipino rapper. "Slipper in the Mud" is one of his fourteen songs in the album “Biyahe ng Pangarap” (Trip of Dreams), a compilation of his best and most memorable works that was released on November 9, 2014.

Gloc-9’s "Trip of Dreams" started with a lively and upbeat song “Intro”and gave a warm-up for the next heart-wrenching songs that will make anyone think of their choices and perspective in life. Coupled by the well-placed prominent drumbeats and guitar which intensified its pensive sadness, the songs in this album...

My December Competition 2017

Dream

When I was a child, I dreamt of experiencing winter. The type of December with snow covering the whole town and chilling wind hugging my body like a mother did to its child. I dreamed of playing snowball fight with my brother and lying on the snow covered ground, waving my hands and feet to create an angel. Surely, it would bring laughter to each and every child in my hometown Pozorrubio.

Alas, in a country like Philippines, a part of Southeast Asia, my dreams are impossible. There were only two types of seasons: the rainy days and summer. Many foreigner assumes that our country is always sunny. Well, it is far from the truth.

For example, the months of May to mid-September are the times where every day is a rainy day. If a town is unlucky, then every month will have a week of flood and classes would still resume. Imagine walking with your school shoes in a...

My December Competition 2017

Dream

When I was a child, I dreamed of experiencing winter. The type of December with snow covering the whole town and chilling wind hugging my body like a mother did to its child. I dreamed of playing snowball fight with my brother and lying on the snow covered ground, waving my hands and feet to create an angel. Surely, it would bring laughter to each and every child in my hometown Pozorrubio.

Alas, in a country like Philippines, a part of Southeast Asia, my dreams are impossible. There were only two types of seasons: the rainy days and summer. Many foreigners assumed that our country is always sunny, with colorful festivals full of neon costumes, wide smiles, hyper cultural dances and unparalleled generosity. It was half of the truth.

For example, the months of May to mid-September were the times where every day is a rainy day. If a town is unlucky, then every month will have a week of...

1

It's the end of time
hold your breath and close your eyes
hush, darling—smile.
 

Novel Writing Competition 2017

The Alternate Trials

The silence was killing her. Neither of them had started a conversation ever since Gwen’s mother, Moira Mason, picked her up from the White Rose Hotel’s bar.

Moira’s eyes were focused on the dark road, lips in a thin line and hands tightly holding the steering wheel of the car. Trees were aligned at each side of the way, and the only sound Gwen could hear was the engine’s continuous rumbling.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” Gwen whispered, not looking at her mother's face.

Moira did not respond.

“I know that it was wrong to not call you, and for even trying to get drunk. I’m sorry.” she continued, then sighed at the failed second attempt to get a single sentence from her mother’s mouth. “It’s just, the swimming team won’t take no for an answer, and I finally won the regionals. I’m now qualified for the national competition after three years of failure!”

She waited for her mother’s sharp protest, the...

Novel Writing Competition 2017

The Alternate Trials

The silence was killing her. No one started a conversation ever since Gwen’s mother, Moira Mason, picked her up from the White Rose Hotel’s bar.

Moira’s eyes were focused on the road, lips in a thin line and hands tightly holding the steering wheel of the car. Trees were aligned at each side of the way, and the only sound Gwen could hear was the engine’s continuous rumbling.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” Gwen whispered, not looking at her mother's face.

Moira did not respond.

“I know that it was wrong to not call you, and for even trying to get drunk. I’m sorry.” she continued, then sighed at the failed second attempt to get a single sentence from her mother’s mouth. “It’s just, the team won’t take no for an answer, and I finally won the regionals. Imagine? Four years in the swimming team and I finally won the regionals. I’m now qualified for the national competition!”

She waited for her...

Why I Write

Filling the Gaps

    When I was a child, I was nothing but a damaged toy. No one wanted a damaged source of entertainment, so I was left in a corner—unwanted and unattended.

I was a normal visitor of every pediatrician. Every end of the month was a check up. I froze whenever I cry, bones unmovable and tear unstoppable. Children scrambled in fear if I asked to be included in a game.

"You're not allowed to play a game." they said.

"You'll get sick and we'll be the culprits of it if we allow you." they said.

No one wanted a sickly companion. No one wanted a broken toy.

My mother and father are busy working. My brother was happy with his new Kindergarten friends. So I clung to the nearest comfort—my books.

    At least they won't shy away because I am sick. At least they will stay. At least they will bring me to Alice's Wonderland, to Hogwarts and Narnia. At least...

Blonde Barbie Doll

He wants to be a Barbie doll.
Blonde—like a golden haired princess.
Beautiful—like a pageant queen in a runway,
dressed in the finest attire
of gowns, tiaras and diamonds.

He wants to be fawned over,
to be included in every dress-up,
to have a Ken doll at his side.
He wants to smile like a Barbie doll—
timeless, enchanting.

When he was a child, he always sneaked in his sister's room,
to see a glimpse of the yellow haired doll,
and maybe dress it up with a pink gown.
If he's lucky, he could change its hairstyle,
then dash out and call it a good day.

But now he's older, with a secret inside
he can't help but still wish
that he was a Barbie doll.
A doll without hidden realities
could dress up and wear makeup.

Hello

Hello, Mother
give me a lullaby
hush me to sleep
and drive my nightmares away.

Hello, Father
hug me tightly
never let go
and assure me that everything is alright.

Hello, Mother
send me to school
teach me the ways of life
and give me a bright future.

Hello, Father
forgive me for all my flaws
save me from the harsh reality
and guide me to the light.

Dear Mother and Father
never let go
don't leave me alone
now that I can offer everything in this world.