-=(Sagien)=-

Sunrise Over a Paper Route

The route may be routine, tiring, and annoying to the social life, but its times like these, when all the papers are folded and bagged and I take out the camera to snap a pic that makes me really appreciate the calmness of it all.

Check me out in my ghetto car. Notice the sagging lining. It is very classy.

Fresh Off the Boat!

That there is me on the right. Philly international airport.

That whole trip started when my mother decided enough was enough and she wasn't going to be apart from her family anymore. You see, my mother went abroad when we were young to support us.

She left when Mitchell(the one in the overalls) was barely old enough to walk. When she saw him again, he didn't know who she was. It was a long five years without a mother.

So she came back, vowwing never to leave again.

Then something happened. Nikki was conceived.

My mother, realizing that there's time left on her visa, returned to the States, with full intentions of having the baby here. It was the only way that her entire family could get approved for visas to move to the land of opportunity.

So that's us. Fresh off the boat. How lucky for you.

P.S. We have a new addition to ISSF. Great reads and such. Welcome to the fold, namflow.

Nostalgia!

I found myself in a retail environment that I refuse to pinpoint the location of.

Look how fat they all are! FATTY McFATTY-FUCKS!. Notice the bulgy slant in the gentleman in uniform's stomach. FYI, that man has been working at this particular store for probably close to a decade now. It is a pretty big stores, and if I recall correctly, you would HAVE TO walk through the CD aisle to get from his department to the bathroom. And if I were him, I'd be so sick about myself that I would go to the bathroom a lot. So, if the company REQUIRES you to STOMP through the MEDIA aisles to prevent theft before you get to the bathroom, and you were that guy who would have to go to the bathroom alot cuz you're disgusting, I'd estimate he would have to walk about 50miles a day. So, dear lord in heaven, WHY IS HE THAT FAT?

In other news... I have set out to prove to the world that I also have a heart of gold. But whenever I look at this page, I seem to be the only one on it. Please, someone change this. I don't like doing things alone and being the only one on this list completely bugs me.

Plus it is a very good cause. All kidding aside, if there was one good deed I got to do in life, I'm glad its to help out a friend. In this case, its me helping out a friend help out alot of people. So awesome for me, right?

In case you're wondering wtf I'm talking about, click here. All will be explained.

I will also permanently link it over to the side there. Thank you.

Onward?

The Phoenix Saga, Epilogue

New Jersey is home. New Jersey is happy. Everyone I knew came to see me. Everyone I knew got to meet her.

Everyone I knew got to hate her.

Jose even mentioned she stank.

My friends marvelled at her constant rocking back and forth on the floor, sitting on a looney toons couch cushion, listening to intensely loud headphones like a weeble.

Everyone didn't like her.

Everyone, except for John Walley.

Eat it, John Walley.

My Next Door Neighbors

Their lawn reminds me of the bush. Where I grew up.

When I first moved into this neighborhood with my family, the surrounding area was respectable. You didn't see two feet high lawns like you would in the jungles of Southeast Asia. This guy's lawn has blades of grass tall enough to easily hide predatorial cats. Panthers.

I remember walking through grass that tall. I was about 8 years old, in a third world nation, walking bare-foot and plucking at the weeds for something appropriate to put in my mouth. Kinda like them badass Japanese Asian types with the Raiden hats and the grass things sticking out of their mouths.

The Phoenix Saga

At this point in time, my credit was shot. I had an eviction under my name, and a handful of bank accounts I can never user again because of numbers associated with them going into the negatives.

Luckily, this time I had enough cash saved up so we had more than $20 in spending cash for the return bus ride to Phoenix.

It was a grand old time on that bus trip. Hurricane Floyd was about 2 hours behind us, the edges of the storm beating on the Greyhound.

I was trying to sleep while Kristin cackles on about how she wished for the storm with her witchcraft. Once we've reached Texas, the hurricane was far behind us, and sunshine and desert stretched out ahead of us. We arrived in Phoenix with no incident.

We stayed at the bipolar woman's apartment again. This time she got us enough room to live in. To spite them all, I remained unemployed. For two months. I didn't even bother looking for a job.

Meanwhile, Kristin kept going out with a gentleman she met online. I didn't think much of it, he was fat and she would never cheat on me.

Then, drama reared its ugly head. I call New Jersey after months of no communication. My mother had left the country. She's back in the Philippines, my grandfather was dying. I wanted to go home.

I had no money. I needed to be home.

Kristin talked to her friend from the internet. His name is Adam. Adam was more than happy to pay for my bus ride back. He even gave me $20 to spend on food on my way back.

Adam drove me to the bus terminal. Kristin didn't come along, she hated goodbyes. I told her I'd be back in a month. I had with me my cd player and my case full of CDs, and a change of clothing.

The bus wasn't showing up for another hour, and Adam had already left. So I sat, and I waited. And something didn't feel right. This trip back home was way too easy. I got up and refunded the ticket, ran outside and caught a cab back to the apartment.

"Oh shit, Mike's back," Karla said into the payphone she used to call her boyfriend as I came walking up. "What did you do to the ticket Adam bought you?"

I told her I cashed it in.

"Oh shit. Adam won't be happy. Adam didn't expect you to be back after a month. He certainly doesn't expect you back now."

I told her that that's what I figured.

"Kristin won't be back for hours. She's out with Adam. They'll be back later, I think." She's saying way too many words. The lithium must've kicked in.

So we waited. We waited for her to get back for the next 4 hours. We decided that Adam wasn't to find out that I was back. We were keeping his money, to pay for the phone.

And Kristin returned. Her mom argued that she wanted her to stay in. Kristin was adamant about going back out with "some of her things" to go back to Adam's place. The arguement was going nowhere.

Then I stepped out of hiding. Kristin's jaw dropped, the cigarette she was attempting to light hanging on her dry lips. She nods her head to her mother in agreement.

We had sex that night. It's been weeks.

Adam stalked us.

Karla's boyfriend was over more often. Things were looking great, we even had Thanksgiving dinner.

Adam stalked us.

Kristin and I would go to sleep, or listen to music, and Adam would be outside, having a good vantage point of our bedroom window.

Then I got sick of it.

One night he was tapping on Kristin's window. She usually opens it, tells him she can't go out, while I stayed out of sight. This evening, he wasn't taking no for an answer. So I showed myself.

"I knew it!" he yelled.

I told him to leave.

"Kristin said she wanted to be with me."

I informed him that I was the one she was fucking every night.

He ripped off the window's screen and threw it over the balcony. Then the police arrived. I never saw him again.

Christmas was nearing, and I was feeling very homesick. Karla has strayed from her drugs, spending the money she received from selling plasma at the VA hospital on nights out with her boyfriend instead. She's shifting back to her insane self.

Then the end happened. Karla declares that she's moving in with her boyfriend and that neither Kristin nor I were welcome. I called my mother.

On December 16, 1998, we boarded a plane to Baltimore, paid for by my parents. The first friendly face I saw when I stepped off the plane was that of my brother's.

Jose gave me a hug.

"So how was being the prodigal son?" he asked.

He never got his answer until now.

One Asian Against the World

And if I lose, there's a couple billion more where I came from...

The Phoenix Saga

It's all set. We're getting married, and everything is good to go. Life is happy, smiles are everywhere. Even the manic depressive mom hasnt been going all that crazy.

Except, we're sleeping on the floor. We don't have our own place, our own room, and no money to get it. We're stuck.

"Willis said we can move in with him in Florida." Willis is her step-dad. Or was her step-dad. Him and her mother divorced a couple of years ago, because of Kristin.

"Didn't you say he sexually abused you?"

"Yeah, but he's better now. And when it all comes down to it, he's still the only father I've ever known, and he loves me."

Okay.

I saved up enough money for two one way bus tickets to Port Richey, Florida. Kristin was excited. She gets to be where she grew up at. She gets to be with her friends again. The friends that fed her too much acid when she was fourteen.

This bus ride was worse than the first. I now had Kristin's worldly possessions to lug across the country on top of my duffle bag of wordly possessions. We had $20 between ourselves to last us the five day trip to Florida. We also had Cheese Nips in our carry-on luggage. I went hungry for a couple of days, and at one point we split a number two meal at McDonalds.

But we were going to a better life, she said. Everything will be much better than how they were in Phoenix.

The bus arrived in a run down station in the worst part of Florida. There's a bearded man with a pickup truck waiting outside the station.

Kristin runs out of the bus and gives him a hug.

Willis brings us to his double-wide trailer home. He sets us up in a bedroom in the back. The next day, he takes me to Radio Shack to get a job. He also sets me up with a car his friend gave him. Chrysler LeBaron convertible, it was. Piece of shit, it was.

Life in Florida was bliss. Kristin was joblessly happy. I worked tirelessly at a retail store making no commission because nobody in east bumfuck Florida was savvy enough to care about a Radio Shack.

Kristin went clubbing every weekend. I tried to go, but I can't make it all the time, what with working and all. I also couldn't afford it all the time because I had to give most of my money to Willis.

So she had other guys take her and pay for her. She would never cheat on me though.

I slept in the car that night. She had the only keys to the house. She was at the club, with some long haired guy who wore skirts and fishnet arm coverings. It was goth. They all smelled like pachoulli. I had to work late.

She said she'd be home in time when I got home from work. That was at 10pm. She raps on the car window at 4am.

She'd never cheat on me.

I hate Florida. I miss my friends. I miss my family.

Then Willis kicks us out. Go back to Phoenix he said. It seemed that Kristin has stolen his rolled up change that he's saved up over the course of halfa decade. Hundreds of dollars in pennies she used for cigarettes and goth makeup.

Another bus trip.. another five days.

To be continued...

Ex Ex Vee Eye Aye

This is a bum, out for his morning run. You can't see it, but he wears sweatpants that are ripped to shreds. I see him on my route every morning.
This morning, it looks like's he's acquired a couple of ears of corn.

Yes, that there is part of my route. Notice the lack of houses to throw newspapers to. In fact, both sides of the road is covered in swamp.

This Ain't No Phoenix Saga, Bitch

It's my birthday! This is my birthday post.

Birthdays are treated differently in the Philippines. The way it is approached there makes me glad I live here. Let me tell you why.

Here, in the U.S., birthday celebrants are treated by their friends and families to free dinners, usually consisting of steak, or some kinda meat-like non-meat product if you're vegan.

That is not the case back in the third world nation that I grew up in. Filipinos are so socially inept, they make you wish you were never born.

On any given birthday, all of your friends and family will become very very excited. They are not excited for you. They're excited for themselves.
That's because they are expectant of a blowout.

A blowout is the word described that would indicate the spending of all of one's money on some lavish dinner/party/cult gathering. Now, I am not opposed to the spending of any kind of money for any kind of party.

What I am opposed to is the spending of MY money on MY birthday fuckin party. Yes, in the Philippines, the brthday celebrant is expected to be the one to pay for all of his friends/family if they were to go out to dinner.

THAT is the Filipino Birthday Blowout.

Mabuhay!

(that means "be alive", but I think in this context it translates better as "Live long, and prosper.")

So, in keeping with Filipino tradition, I am to take out all my friends and family for a few rounds of beer. Let me know if any of you are interested. I'll be sure to tell you to go fuck yourselves.

A Series of WTFs

I like how they let you write on tables in Macaroni Grill.

Onward?

The Phoenix Saga

Morning. Or afternoon. Whatever it is, its three hours earlier than what I'm used to. I'm in my boxers, dried sweat on my skin. The spot next to me was empty.

The door to the bedroom creaks open and she comes in.

"Oh good, you're up. Um.."

"What's wrong?"

"My mother.. she needs money to pay the electric."

"Oh," I said, as she climbed onto the futon, wearing one of my tshirts and the boxers I wore the night before. "Let me get my wallet."

Subtract $175 from $500. Nine days before I lose my virginity.

"I'll give it to her later," she says as she kisses me. It'll be another four hours before I left that bed again.

Nine more days of bliss. Then I went and got myself employed. She set me up at her the place she worked at. It involved calling businesses and selling them refilled ink cartriges by the box. Most of the time, it was by the pallet. It was the lowest point of work I have ever done. The script we worked out of was an outright lie, but all I had to do was read it until I got to a certain point, then one of the real salespeople took over and tried to get the stranger on the other end of the line to buy. I sold nothing, and I got fired after a day. The boss told me that perhaps sales wasn't the field I was meant to be in.

So its back to Radio Shack. The problem was that Phoenix had an awful public transportation system. I had to walk four blocks to where the right bus picked up, which would take me eight blocks to where a connecting bus would meet me. The trick to the whole thing was that the connecting bus appeared five minutes after the first bus arrived, if everything worked out correctly. Most of the time it didn't, and I would have to walk the six blocks to the store where I was to be employed.

All is fine.

"My mother wants to move out, and leave the apartment to us. You, me and Kristina," Kristin declared after an evening of sex. Kristin quit her job after I got fired. Kristina was looking for work. I didn't make enough to afford this townhouse.

"Okay," I said. In a weeks time, Karla, along with the fifteen pieces of medication she was taking for her bipolar nature, was gone, along with the four cats. Also, within that week, Kristin acquired Sebastian. Sebastian was a male cat.

We had the place to ourselves. Just the two of us. And Kristina, the semi-chunky, underaged runaway. And Sebastian. Kristina even got a job. With her third, I can cover mine and Kristin's. I get all the sex I want, and a place to live too.

I can sit downstairs on the rent-to-own couch and watch the rent-to-own television that I can't afford. Kristin would spend hours on the Internet, chatting away with God knows what. Kristina would come downstairs and watch TV with me. She'd sit closer and closer to me each night on the couch.

One night, she stuck her feet under my legs. She wanted them warm.

Kristin came downstairs for a glass of water, all gothed up and ready to go. She looked over to where I was on the couch, watching a movie. She looked at the semi-chunky, underaged runaway with her feet tucked under my legs for warmth, then she went upstairs.

"I'm kicking Kristina out," she was sweaty. She's been on top.

"Okay."

One month later, we were moving into her mother's place. Back to the woman who sat in her oversized tshirts, with the blubber on her legs hanging out. Back to the four cats that she speaks to in a high pitched, baby-talk tone. Back to the lithium and the paxil and the legalized drugs that she took to keep her out of it, and the duality of her personality in check.

On the floor, with our clothing in my duffel bag of wordly possessions. On the floor, where she stradled my body and rode me.

Rode me until I was almost there. Rode me until I was in oblivion. Rode me until..

"We should get married."

"Okay."

To be continued..

The Fullness of it All

Ever have something happen to you, quite deeply personal that you only told bits and pieces of it to random people? The information gets compartmentalized and even those closest to you don't have the whole story?

Well, lets fix that.

I'll differentiate this story as something that happened to me, instead of putting it in the third person. It's easier to tell that way.

The Phoenix Saga

"I wish she wouldn't cry," I thought as I boarded the Greyhound bus.

"This is quite a trip, " said the conductor as he punches the first section of a three foot long ticket. Atlantic City, New Jersey to Phoenix, Arizona, with several stopovers in between. Total trip time: five days.

I nodded at him, unable to say words. "I wish she wouldn't cry," I thought again as I turned around and gave my mother a hug goodbye. I didn't know when I was going to see her again.

Greyhound buses are disgusting meat trucks filled with some of the most despicable human beings on Earth, alot of whom really don't mind not touching soap or water for days on end. There won't be any empty seats on this bus.

I turned on my Radio Shack CD player, powered by Radio Shack batteries. The sounds of Dave Matthews Band suddenly fills my ears and I dozed off. I slept through most of the trip, waking only to see the landscape change from the vibrant green of the east coast to the drab landscape of the south, to the even more boring deserts of Texas and the southwest. My dozing was disturbed only once when I had to wake up to the smells of engine failure as the bus comes to a quick halt in the middle of the Texan desert.

This was when the cute girl I've had my eye on in the bus asked me if my cell phone was working. I told her to go to hell.

The bus pulls into the Phoenix station ahead of schedule. I grab my duffel bag filled with all of my wordly belongings and sat on it. I waited. I waited for someone, not knowing what they really looked like. I waited, not knowing what to expect. My only way out was the $500 in cash in my pocket -- enough to buy a ticket back. Enough for another five days of grueling hell to come back to New Jersey with my pride gone. Like hell that was going to happen.

"Mike?" came a voice from the station doors. I looked up. She was a creature dressed in a shiney silvery dress. Fishnet stockings hugged her legs. My god, she looked like a flashy version of Skeletor. I hoped she looked better naked.

I nodded and stood up. Kristin gave me a hug.

"Come on," she said, "Is this all you have?" she motions towards my duffel bag.

"Yep, I'll carry it, its heavy," she didn't look like she could carry a twig. I stare at her legs and noted that her breasts felt nice when she gave me the hug. She turned, picked up my carry-on and headed out the door. I followed her out.

She lived in a two bedroom townhouse with her mother and some random online chick that needed a place to stay. They shared a room, and I was to share that same room with them. So my living conditions for the next month or so will include Kristin: the girl, Karla: the mother, and Kristina: the random. Oh, and four cats.

We went up into the bedroom and Kristina was there waiting. I asked if I could use the shower.

"Sure, I have boxers I want you to wear waiting for you in there," Kristin responded.

"Okay." The shower was nice. I came out wearing the silk boxers, and a fresh set of Khakis. I left my shirt off.

Kristin was laying in her dress on her futon. Kristina sat cross-legged on the floor.

"Come cuddle," Kristin said. I happily obliged. I laid behind her put my arm around her and I realized I was shaking. I was shaking out of pure nervousness and anxiety.

"Aww, you're shaking. Are you nervous?" she asked. I can only nod. I realized that I haven't slept well in days, and certainly not in any proper sleeping accomodations.

The girls and I conversed for about an hour. Then Kristin gave Kristina that knowing look. Kristina got up and left. She was sleeping on the couch tonight.

Kristin turned and I was looking down on her. I was still nervous. Should I kiss her? I attempted to lay back down and realized that her arm was rigid against my back. It told me that straying towards that direction, away from her lips, was not an option.

So I kissed her. The kiss lasted hours, until the sun was way above the horizon. And then I fell asleep. I fell asleep with the decision that I was staying.

To be continued...

Next Chapter

Chocolatey chocholate chocolate

Chocolatey chocholate chocolate...

My birthday is coming. Soon. May 18th soon. Bring presents.