Basta. Mga kagaguhan ng mga tao ay nandirito. Hahanap ka pa ba ng iba?

Ang misteryo sa likod ng bawat tao. O ng isang tao. O ng dalawang tao. Kabobohang pinaiiral ng bawat isa...sa atin?

Kung gusto mo nga daw sumikat dito, magsulat ka ng romansa... (itutuloy balang araw.)

Ang storyang ito ay parang ang book cover ko lang... walang kinalaman ang background at walang kwenta.

Alas syete ng umaga, sa may Avenida, Maynila... Pakapal nang pakapal ang di-pangkaraniwang hamog na bumalot sa labas ng 7-eleven. Hamog na hindi namin alam kung paanong lumukob sa labas ng tindahan. Walo kaming naiwan. Walo kaming nagsisimula nang mangatog sa takot. Nakatayo at humahagilap ng kahit anong masisilayan sa labas. Bakas sa anyo ng lahat ang pagkabigla, ang pagtatanong kung ano ba talaga ang nangyayari. Ni isa sa amin ay di makapagbitiw ng salita dahil parepareho kaming walang ideya. At sa isang iglap, wala na kaming narinig na anuman mula sa labas. Nawala ang boses ng mga nagsisigawang tao, ang mga busina ng jeep. Isang nakabibinging katahimikan. Tanging ang mabilis na tibok ng puso ko na lamang ang aking naririnig. (Ang "Saan Kami Pupunta" ay kwento tungkol sa walong taong hindi magkakakilala na naiwan sa loob ng 7-eleven habang ang mundo sa labas ng tindahan ay nilamon ng di maipaliwanag na hamog. Sundan kung paano sila mabubuhay, tatakas, at tutuklasin kung anong misteryo ang nangyari sa mundo) Copyright © 2014 by ruerukun All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.

you haven't really met me until it's three am and we're all alone.

Ano ba ang mga dapat pag-daanan ng isang binatilyo upang maging matanda? Nasa edad nga ba ang katandaan? Nasa utak lang ba talga ang kabataan? Madaming tanong ang gustong masagot ng isang binatilyong madaming pangalan pero hinahanap parin ang kanyang sarili. -------------------------------- This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Quinn scribbles tainted emotions across thin layers of white paper. But to who? To someone who blinks once, sees her, and blinks again-just to make her disappear. To someone who sees her as a symbol of the ocean. To someone who thinks the ocean is disgusting and hideous, filled with trash and pathetic wandering fishes. To someone who believes that Quinn needs to be a size zero to be labeled as 'beautiful.' If she isn't, why in the world will anyone care to love her? She's disgusting. Worthless. An enormous sailboat that makes the world sink. But how long will it take until she sinks herself?

Xavier doesn't speak; he writes.

There in those city lights, there was no her and there was no him. There was just everything and nothing and the spaces in between, like flickering lights against a never-ending, black sky. There in those city lights, there was no love and there was no hate. There was just listening and talking and understanding every single thing, like the 'ready, stop, go' of car-chasers and dream-makers. There in those city lights, there was no sadness and there was no happiness. There was just candid smiles and wasted tears and bottom lips chewed off, like the overflowing boulevard of things unseen. There in those city lights, there was no lady and there was no man. There was just a boy and a girl, who promised to fall in love, not with each other, but in those city lights. [a blind collaboration by @hepburnettes & @cityscape]