Sabrina

Our continuation of #girlstories…

The epiphany rang.

There was an evil sinister coming to Elevententeen.

Do you have plans yet_.png

Sabrina sat up from her seat and left her lunch in the mist. She was mentally picturing her fuzzy, white sweater getting soaked from the rain and it made her livid. She was too embarrassed to adjust, people were observing. She trudged through, carrying a green umbrella.

Carrying books in a used plastic bag, she walked to her class. Virtuoso would be there. Her heart skipped a beat knowing that he would test her classically trained ear. He didn’t know she lost the ability. For this exam, she would pretend; she could not hear a thing.

Only black. Sabrina quickly glanced at her feet to see where she was, her red rain boots covered in dew drops. Then, she coughed and tiny gray particles with lavender pieces came shooting out of her mouth. She coughed again and the door opened.

She couldn’t hold onto her books anymore. They dropped down the silver lining. Her arms struggled to reach for something, anything to stop her from slipping. There were branches sticking out on each side of her, then suddenly she remembered.

She was Alice and Sabrina was the nightmare.

10 years ago.

She didn’t want to see it, she squeezed her eyes shut to ignore what was going to happen next. No, no, no! She cried, just leave me alone! Don’t let this happen, loyal judge, I will bring you the falcon! But whomever she was speaking to didn’t care. She looked down and could see her legs changing into wide tree trunks, covered with green frost and violet branches. She looked at her hands and they too were made of wood. The apple from her lunch pack floated in a thick orange residue, and she reached for it, but it just turned into mush with a face, laughing. Oh shit, this is it. The sounds around her went bleep.

Finally, kerplunk.

Sabrina landed on soft ground. It was ridiculous that a tree could wear a blue dress. Still, she patted down her pinafore and retied a green bow. Judge? She searched. Her crispy hands aimed for her head. She ducked down as she knew she wouldn’t be able to prune her braids. The ground became solid with tiny, little versions of signs propping up, one by one, all over the place. Everywhere was now everything.

She wore a black hat and had red-rimmed eyeglasses.

alice. (2)

She wore a purple jacket with dirt under her nail beds.

judge.

It was over.

They played a game to determine their next meal. They didn’t want to eat. They wanted to get out of here. A sinister laugh bellowed from the fog’s bounds and they knew Judge Judy was prepared. Prepared to assign Sabrina with her next task. Prepared to evaluate the worth of Alice’s size, since she was just going to be used at the tribune. And throughout the entire evaluation, neither girl could sit still.

What would become of Sabrina’s jacket?

 

 

Past Experience

I dedicated 10 years at Bell Mobility, delving into telecommunications via customer experience, account management and solution selling. The entire experience was life-changing. It gave me the ability to think (2)

Copy of Untitled Design (1)

Cherry

She lost him. She stopped as soon as she could to catch her breath. The platform was empty, save for one man, standing by himself wearing a low, soft felt hat with a curled brim and the crown creased lengthwise. He looked at her. Cheater. Quickly, she darted her eyes toward the staircase. She half expected him to come up, but he didn’t.

Instead he played chess and she was alone at last. Cherry slid down onto the cold, non-foliated metamorphic rock commonly used for sculpture and as a building material. Her hand searched for a mushy, ham and cheese sandwich. Eat? The odd man turned and walked toward her using a device consisting of a circular canopy of cloth on a folding metal frame supported by a metal rod. It was his first. She didn’t understand the significance of the red and white peppermint patty stripes though. A big chunk of sandwich wedged in her throat.

There is no resting place in Paradise, Chona. Just the constant chase of Dreams and Toys. Whatever then. I don’t need the job anyway. They need themselves and that will never change. I reached into the fridge, the bright neon light glaring in my face. What’s it going to be tonight? 3% milk bought one week ago, or taro cream buns from yesterday? Her black, acid wash cut-offs were riding up her legs, a product of skipping two workouts over the weekend he supposed. Cherry didn’t want any of it. She slammed the fridge door for Each Other and climbed onto the kitchen island marble.

Boom, boom, boom.

Silence filled the entire apartment.

Dang it, he’s here.

She didn’t even have time to prepare.

Some empty containers of Nanö fell onto the floor. Cherry didn’t wait. Nothing. Then, suddenly again –

Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!

She didn’t have time to leave.

Outside the window, the landscape was lavender purple.

The air inside her apartment was as cold as stone.

Cherry remembered the Toys in her closet. There was probably enough in there to pay him off. Jared didn’t take cheap toys as a barter. He was looking for some form of permanent reimbursement. She wanted to try to run away. Running to her room, she pulled her closet doors open and found him. A retro blue Ty bear stuffie, sewn together with black thread. His beady eyes were made of wind-blown agate, a mystical find these days in Chon.

Wasn’t it ridiculous to think gems held power these days? Jared was specifically looking to enhance his perception and analytical abilities. The agate eyes on Cherry’s Toy could heal the  anger inside and create a sense of security and blankets, much needed bling required at Life Space.

“Cherry!!!” Jared started, “Open the frigging door! NOW!” She grabbed Blueberry, stuffing it into her shirt, which had a hidden metric built-in. The bear quickly disappeared and she yanked the entranceway agape.

“Where is it?!?” Jared stumbled inside, her apartment was already in shreds. Cherry had old jars of Dream everywhere. But they were empty too. Users. “How fast can you put together a cheat sheet?” Jared stopped and looked at Cherry. They both began to laugh hysterically. She blinked her eyes. One by one, the jars started to break up into small parts, a result of impact and decay. She checked out the window. The purple haze was gone and replaced with a mauve checkerboard.

In the next moment memory, everything sat still and Jared was suddenly a statue, his eyes staring blankly at Cherry’s gaze. It was only going to last another 30 minutes, she thought. She moved taking a short time – the journey was going to be fast and furious. She ran back to her window and stuck her head outside. It was wet and sticky and humid. Further out she could see the retro blue Ty melding into life. Tiny pink flecks, stars, were also starting to become actual fact.

That was on her right brain. Her left was angry, used and taken for granted. She didn’t know how to fix him. It was probably going to be impossible. So why not just skip living and buy some cigarettes?

 

9 – Coming Down

I’m so tired, Daisy thought. You’re always tired, retorted Cherry. She was just sitting there, twiddling her thumbs, looking at her green shoes. She turned her head right, was there something there? She suddenly felt uncomfortable. Someone was watching them. They didn’t know who.

It’s time to pack, dear. The routine was the same every June. Alice from Wonderland would arrive to take Daisy home. Daisy couldn’t do it without help. It was a sad time for her. She was remembering the death of her mom, those last few cigarettes she had outside with her dad, in the snow. She was really angry Being because of Ben. He ruined her life, led her astray. She was an addict when she was with him.

Forget thinking about it, darling. Alice stroked Cherry’s hair, handing her a cheese and ham biscuit. This is ridiculous. I’m practically choking on this bread, it’s getting lodged in my throat! I can’t take it anymore! By then, their tears were flowing, ruining everything including a pink dress and a gigantic muumuu.

All of the pupils present today were busy writing down their answers. Not me. I’m just going to sit it. Read his brain. Oh shit, he’s looking. The girls looked away, frantically grabbing their miniature Navajo backpacks, matching, gifts from the Philippines and their Auntie Stella.

Daisy? Can you contribute something to this discussion we’re having? Her teacher was frustrated, but tried his best to be kind and patient. Daisy twitched her mouth. No, I don’t think I can. They could feel every single eye in the room blink. Then, 999,999 heads turned to look at her. What were they expecting? She wasn’t going to put on a show. And especially not in this muumuu. Do you have anything to say, young miss? Neither had enough bitcoins to argue. Clearing her throat, Miss Daisy stood up. Cherry budged in front, knocking her sister to the floor. I bought these with my own cash! Dreams, actually. It was Toys clearly. Can any one of you in the room debate that? We highly think naught. And with haste, they flipped their skirts and left the room.

Flying through the wind, Cherry grabbed her big sister’s hand. They were going to be just fine.

A Blox Manifesto

Hi everyone! I present this creative manifesto to you, to portray myself as your creative director. It is theoretical and abstract. Have a read and please share your comments!

My odd discoveries are niched between innovation and the mainstream. For instance, if you have to think with a reason, you will create a chain reaction. You can force it, think it and enable it. It comes from within, like the mass of a tornado picking up speed or fear that the same wind will blow you off a bridge. So, how can we make these constant discoveries without becoming lost? As it always was, record your ideas and when I return, if it does not make sense, then time has passed. Take note that the world needs new things – disconnection from belonging, then suddenly, an objective and rational sense. We can’t automate knowledge, no matter what the group thinks; we can’t copy, steal or pretend. Because those with the ability can argue that it cannot be contained. Try to study da Vinci. Can you reproduce his 19 notebooks that included studies of the human circulatory system and plans for aircrafts and submarines? Our renaissance involves top channels urging the resistance to stop cowering behind boring practices and facades of knowledge or the world will never know the peace of language, nor the nature of our true digital environment. I will be here to plug it all together, make sense of it all, then present my findings with one goal – to develop a realistic definition and record of our digital presence. You will be listening through the air and the speed by which you can travel will be determined by creativity, activity and selflessness. You can make it in seconds. It also takes decades, in fact thousands and thousands of years in time and space. Topics pertaining to analytics, insight and AI. Cures for psychosomatic disease, body dysmorphia, cancer. Working our thinking capabilities. Our capacity to believe. Our ability to organize and refocus thought. Updating medicine. Explaining mental illness. Change in everything, even radio. Our everyday landscape will keep the same weather; we will occupy the same ability to choose, the same emotions and relationships. It can all be achieved, simultaneously. I will be the one to write about it; every inch and element – watch!

Stay tuned please!

6 – The Train Naps

Daisy was out, then she arose. She could feel the left side of her neck, bent out of shape and sore from sleeping on it bent. And the train was still moving across moist carpeted land or moss coloured greenery, however you wanted to see it. The trees, they looked like LEGO pieces. She didn’t quite understand when she transitioned back, but she was glad to be here, smelling the faint stink of a ham and cheese biscuit.

You don’t actually want to see the workings of Elevententeen. What’s behind it is extremely frightening. The framework is made up of spider-like grids, when you see it, they move and pulse like a living thing. Daisy shuddered at the mere thought of it. She quickly patted her yellow eyelet dress to ensure it was still in existence. Another way to halt the screams (screams occur when your brain computes the framework) was to enter Elevententeen with a very specific wardrobe, preferably containing bold colours, pattern and texture.

Sighing, Daisy remembered what it was like in social media school learning about plain stuff. Graphic art and design attributes were existential now, they served no purpose. People only wanted multi-dimensional graphics, that breathed and pulsed and held meaning. I guess altering genetics in 2019 completely erased the human need for new things and surprisingly, technology. It no longer occurred. It was too fickle and rambunctious; nobody cared. It was now about Artha, Manipura and finding pure bling that could get you back through the framework unnoticed.

There were no humans on the train today, only empty seats and a refined beaver quietly sipping Earl Grey. “Well, he looks…dry…and  relaxed…so he must have come from the land.” The beaver heard and adjusted his frames while cocking his head North East. He wanted to see if he could grab the newspaper from thin air instead of having to hold it in his hands. Paper was so archaic, he thought. Daisy wasn’t sure if he noticed her. Her heart skipped a beat and she stopped for a moment memory, as he again adjusted himself out of what looked like discomfort. Inhaling a deep breath, they both fell deeply asleep. The reflection on the mirror was blank. Someone had switched time and space, again. What was going to happen?

Start

Hi everyone! This is a story about taking naps. What would you do if you could start your nap over again?

Day by day, she fought to stay awake. At night, facing the wall, she could see her breath come back, stirring her into place. Her gaze could only see an odd, black shadow.

The plague.

Napping feverishly on an ex-boyfriend’s mattress, my breath came to me, rousing my face. There was no odd black shadow, only the installation piece (University of Calgary, Faculty of Art, 2001) I completed about a red cross and red intersecting paint brushes. Over time, the red morphed into a black matte surface, replacing the glowing red symbols with something different…

The sound.

I gasped for air, clutching my heart staring into Kevin’s barren closet. I saw myself as a ‘doctor’, healing the world from every known pain of mankind. In that moment, my heart sung and I cried. I felt adorned, yet I was confused as to how this could have happened. How could this be a reality that I, Chona Fe, changed the world? Healed it, in fact. How could I be the charging force that put everything into place?

The only other time this happened, I was napping, this time at my aunt’s house in one of the empty rooms. (Note: Filipino homes always have empty rooms; they’re probably accommodating ghosts.) All of the 90s furniture, including a stark, reflective black master’s bedroom set, had no meaning or design in that place. That place where I slumbered and was suddenly awoken again. I think I was 13, sitting up abruptly on the right side of the bed, staring at myself. Yelling. Screaming at the top of my lungs.

Stop!

I wasn’t looking at a reflection of ours.

The reflection.

My brother (Alan Abad) and cousins (Ryan and Vanessa Skinner), ran home from the playground in the centre of the crescent (71 Maryvale Cr. N.E., Calgary, AB). They heard me scream. They were horrified to think something horrible had happened. But nothing did. I was alive. I wasn’t attacked or eaten by monsters. Vanessa grabbed my shoulders, shaking vigorously and I blinked slowly three times, “What. The. I…don’t know what just happened, but I think…I died and saw…a different person…in…” I couldn’t even continue. It was that bad.

Scared?