Case 1: invictus maneo
This will be my last.
[As she began to erase the images in His consciousness, she mourned for another memory of a fellow Traveler, –all the while, the looming question tormented her: did she really remove the flaw to their perfect design, or did she design the perfect flaw?]
The sound of cicadas, the smell of the waking trees and the terse greeting from the light of the heaven –indeed, what a beautiful way to end it.
[For that was her only task and the sole purpose why they kept her –to dissect and extract every memory that was stored on the deepest corner of a Traveler's mind.]
I held the quill firmly on my left hand as I let my crippled arm feel the coldness of the wall; they took my eyes but not my sight, they cut my hand but not my hope, they can cut my tongue but not my voice –and so I continued to write on the wall of this dungeon.
["Show Him the picture again!" The obvious irritation in her voice echoed through the laboratory, "Again! But this time, change the hue of the second layer to bloody orange." because she was running out of patience and time. ]
"In accordance with the provision of the law: Isyl Silverlight, you are hereby sentenced to death by beheading. You have been found guilty of alchemy, clairvoyance and heresy-" With my blood as my ink, I let the words flow by themselves; as the watchmen grabbed me and stripped my garments I continued to write on my skin on my arms, and on my chest.
[She examined the image again –trying every possible pattern, combination and alteration just to find a specific flaw in their design: a sphere encapsulated by thorns on the upper left side, beneath it was a backdrop of a sky that wreathes all weathers, the layers of crystals embedded on a Winter's blanket, and finally, a man –a being hidden inside a protective gear.]
For I can only write what I see... or perhaps I can only see when I write.
***
Case 2
(no entry)
***
Case 3: Julius Cesar
Julius Cesar, nakita kita sa telebisyon kanina, namatay ka raw dahil sa sakit mo'ng Hypergraphia, nagtataka pa rin ako kung bakit ka namatay dahil lang do'n, e, nagsusulat ka lang naman, 'di ba?
Akala ko pa naman ako ang pinakamamahal mong pinsan, pero hindi mo man lang ako binalitaan dito sa Pilipinas, pinadala rin pala sa 'min ang mga kakaibang kuwento na likha mo, isa ka talagang anak ng literatura.
Julius Cesar, binasa ko kanina 'yong huli mong akda na ang titulo ay "Writers Dream" muntik nang dumugo ang ilong ko sa istorya na gawa mo, ingles kasi, dahil do'n bigla kong naalala ang pinanuod natin sa telebisyon na lalaki na may puting kasuotan at malaking bola sa ulo na naglalakad sa buwan na puno ng mga mamahaling kristal – at ang buwan na puno ng mga mamahaling kristal ay naglalakad, bakit kaya naglalakad ang buwan na puno ng mamahaling kristal, Cesar?
Maganda sana ang tambalan natin, Julius, na tiyak na magagamit bilang lambatan para makakuha tayo ng maraming mambabasa, kasi pakiramdam ko malapit na rin akong sumunod sa 'yo, dapat kasi sabay tayong lumisan, mahilig ka talagang mang-iwan.
Habang sinusulat ko itong huling liham ko para sa 'yo, Julius Cesar, nagsisimula na rin umatake ang sakit na tinataglay ko – nating dalawa, hindi ko nga alam kung paano ito pipigilan, isa pa, hindi ko rin alam kung kakayanin kong tumigil sa pagsusulat, Julius Cesar, ito ang bumubuhay sa 'kin, ngunit ito rin ang magiging dahilan ng aking kamatayan, kaya, Julius Cesar, hintayin mo 'ko diyan sa langit teka, pinapasok ka kaya sa langit kung pinatay mo ang sarili mo, kung sakali, tiyak na impyerno rin ang bagsak ko, kaya, Julius Cesar, hintayin mo 'ko, parating na rin ako.
My hands kept shaking when I picked up my ballpen and start writing again. I closed my eyes and a picture of a toast of raven crystals and a big color brown moon flashed on my mind. Also, a man in a color white dress with a headpiece caught my attention. I met his vile eyes, his satanic eyes met mine. I need to end this story before my Hypergraphia end my life.
***
Case 4: Unforgotten Letters
Iniwan mo ang mundo ngunit hindi ka iniwanan ng mundo. Nakatingala ka ngayon at nakatitig ang mga mata sa kawalan, habang ang iyong isipan ay naglakbay patungo sa nakaraan--nakita mo ang iyong sariling naghahabi ng mga letra sa likuran ng iyong kwaderno; kalawakan.
Gusto niyang lumipad, kaya lumipad na siya; hindi na niya nakayanan ang lahat ng pasakit ng mundo kaya't napagdesisyunan niyang lisanin na ito at magpunta sa kawalan suot ang uniporme ng isang astronaut--sa labas ng mundo, doon niya uubusin ang kanyang hininga.
Nakaramdam ka ng bigat sa iyong puso at naalala mong sa pagsusulat nakakalipad ka, nagagawa mo ang mga bagay na hindi mo nagagawa sa totoong buhay.
Lalo kang nangulila habang pinagmamasdan ang itim na mundong punong-puno na ng mga tinik--ang mundong inayawan mo at ipinagpalit sa pagtulog ng espada, marahil noon ay iniisip mong wala kang puwang sa mundo, ngunit ngayon ay napagtantong kawalan ka, ngayong huli na ang lahat kung saan ay nakulong ka na sa kalawakang minsan mong hinangad.
I remember you saying that you didn't want to be left behind, so you always tried to be the first in everything; first to arrive at school, first to submit a requirement, first to know the news, and you even tried to be the best—you tried, but you got tired and then you left us.
And it makes this so unfair because we didn't let you go but you let go of us.
And it isn't just us; you let go of your dreams, you permitted yourself see that everything is dead and you even allowed your own quietly sad words transform into a wound hoe that kills you.
But nothing is really dead when you look at it right—that's what you told me, and that's why I believe that you're in a good place, wearing a uniform of an astronaut, in the space with pink rocks and blue land where you can fly anytime you want.
And maybe that's why I keep on writing letters to you, because I want you to know that you're in our hearts, and that you will never be forgotten.
