Louise Vocis Anima

As I finish my last piece and press enter on my advanced writing machine, I glance at my phone’s alarm. It’s already past five in the afternoon. That means I’ve been sitting on my black thinking chair for almost five hours straight from the moment I started searching for inspiration to the last cigarette butt I dropped. My mind is full of ideas fluttering in the air as I fog the entire room with smoke from yet another lit cigarette. I look at the right corner of my workstation and see that I’ve already finished one pack, plus three more sticks, all drowned in water so no spark from the ashes survives. This one would be my fourth, I tell myself, as I start typing again on my magical writing machine. I promised myself I wouldn’t move a budge until everything in my head is typed into my digital notepad. I can feel my shoulders straining from the five-hour position, and numbness is slowly crawling from my toes up to my calves. I don’t have any stories to tell. I don’t have any characte...

 I knew someone picture-perfect in every way so dreamy that no one believed she was mine one day. No one thinks we laughed inside her little space, or that she cooked for me with warmth I can still taste. She held me close when the world felt unsafe, called my name softly, like a promise she’d keep safe. I watched her smile slowly take its place, a look so full of hope it lit the darkest space. But then the night crept in, and the colors began to fade her smile, slowly drifting like a shadow unmade. The warmth in her eyes turned distant and unclear, And the hug I once knew slipped away from near. Her voice grew faint as darkness filled the air, calling my name softly, but I couldn’t find her anywhere. Doubt settled in, hunger grew inside my chest, and suddenly the place that felt like home felt like unrest. All that’s left now are pictures fragile as paper dreams,  memories fading at the edges, quieter than they seem. I once had someone who felt too real to f...

 I was about to go to sleep when I suddenly felt the need to watch something on Netflix that could help me drift off afterward. I came across this documentary called Happy Jail. Just to refresh your memory, it’s about the Cebu jail with the dancing inmates, made famous for their Michael Jackson tribute performance. At first glance, I thought it would just be a simple story about how the dancing inmates started. But after reading the episode descriptions, I realized it’s much deeper than that. It covers conspiracies, shared governance, the war on drugs, political ambitions, and a lot more. Basically, the story revolves around inmates who testified that the jail was once called Happy Jail for a reason. They were thankful for their consultant, who made that happen (I won’t drop his name, just look it up on Netflix). This consultant, however, was criticized by the government because he was an ex-convict who had been appointed as the jail leader by the governor at the time. While hearin...