Roy was all smile as he reads on his PC monitor

“What’s with the wide grin?”

“Well, Holly just called me a prolific writer. Can you believe that?!” Roy replied.

“She did?! Why? How? When?! I mean, why would she call you that?”

Roy, in a rather exasperated voice said, “Well, for your information, she mentioned it in her post about the Versatile Blogger Award and bestowed upon me honor of being one!”

“Vers — ver— hahaha! wahaha!”

“What’s funny? Why are you laughing so hard?” asked an irritated Roy

“Hahaha… so — sorry.. haha… I ca – I can’t help it, wahahaha! I can’t believe you fall for those stupid memes! Hahahaha!”

“Look, it may be a stupid… I mean a meme, but we both know that Holly wouldn’t give me that award just for the sake of passing it on. You know that! You know she meant what she said!” Roy is now mad.

“Hahaha! Yeah, I know that. Still, it’s a meme. wahahaha!”

“Hey! All this time, I’m trying to claim my place in this writing thing. Now, here’s an author with a reputation, giving me an affirmation that I’m doing something right, and you’re trying to hose me down?! Thanks a lot!”

“Oh, so sorry buddy, hehe… I just can’t help it. Okay, I’ll stop now hehe… so what does this award ask you to do now? I’m sure there is something you have to do, that’s how these memes work.”

“Yes there is… there are, actually,” Roy replied. “First I have to thank Holly for bestowing me the honor, which I did when I visited her blog. I have to mention seven things about me, and I have to bestow the same award to 15 other bloggers.”

“Hmm… you already have the list of seven things to make a fool of yourself?”

“Why would I make a fool of myself? They shouldn’t necessarily be ridiculous. Maybe something out of the ordinary, but not outright stupid,” said Roy.

“And what would those seven, out-of-the-ordinary things about you could be?”

“Well, let’s see…” Roy tried to think, “first, I still love watching cartoons, in fact I still couldn’t get enough of Looney Tunes! Second, I always talk to myself, especially when I have no one to talk too, and third, I hate telenovelas! They make mortals come back from the dead. They absolutely insult my intelligence!”

“Those are not out of the ordinary! Those are regular stuffs! Many grown-ups still watch cartoons, a lot of people talk to themselves, and most normal people hates telenovelas! Come on, be more creative man!”

“Okay, how’s this?” continued Roy, “I still have this fear of the thunder, especially when it’s followed by a sharp crackling sound of lightning. Reminds me of the darks days of the Pinatubo.”

“Getting better, proceed please. You have three more to go.”

“I don’t really like accounting, and until now I still don’t understand why I took the course!”

“NORMAL! Surprise me with your last two”

“A slice of banana cake would always satiate me anytime, especially when it’s accompanied by black coffee”

“Ho-huum…. Boring! Last chance”

“At this very moment, I am actually nursing a broken heart.”

“You don’t say! Really, tell me about it. Come on, come on.”

“Oh, stop acting silly, as if you don’t know. Shall we proceed?” said Roy

“Okay, now you should pass the award to 15 other people. Are you up to it?”

“Gee, actually I am not,” quipped Roy. “I haven’t really been going around lately. I know three versatile writers but I don’t think they are accepting memes – Jena is busy shepherding the Clin Chem Bloggers, Zorlone is currently Lost in Phonpei, and I don’t really think he wants to find his way back. He seems to be enjoying himself. And Jan… Jan isn’t really writing lately, and I dare not ask what he does to exhale at present.”

“So, that means you’re not going to pass that award right now?”

“Well, if those three I mentioned are willing to accept, I will be more than glad. Otherwise, I really wouldn’t pass it, not at this time, at least. I hope I don’t disappoint Holly,” said Roy.

“Oh don’t worry. It will take more than ignoring an award task to disappoint that woman… err I mean, lady.”

Just then, Roy’s daughter, Angel walked out of her room, “Daddy, who were you talking to?” she asked.

“Oh! No one, sweetheart. I was just… I was just… just talking to myself,” replied Roy with a smile.

He was 16 when he wrote his first verse.

Just like any love struck teener his age, his first poem was about love… mushy and senseless.

Then, lines began to rant. An adolescent growing in a seemingly unaccepting society reflected all his angst in verses.

As fate would have it, a new love turned those verses into the mushy lines they used to be… some spoke of the joys of love, while most tell tales of hurting.

Through the years, there were other moods injected in the verses – nationalism, humor, nonsensical and inspirational. But majority still speaks of love and frustrations in life.

Years went by, with the love strengthened by the bond of marriage, verses became scarce. Not because he doesn’t want to write anymore, but there were bigger responsibilities to attend to.

Scarce, but not extinct.

There were occasional poetic outburst that managed to slip through, especially during times of trials and frustrations.

He was introduced to blogging, a medium that was non-existent when he started writing poems more than a decade ago. He liked it… no, he loved it. But instead of just verses, he wrote narratives too… and just like the mood of most of his poems, they talk about his personal trials in life, his journey… his thoughts.

There were occasional postings of his old poems too.

He didn’t know that he was being read.

The biggest trial in his life came. His blog which he called Reflections was a witness to it all.

How all those loads were taking their toll on him… how he was trying to cope… how some people came to support him… how some people looked down on him… how he wanted to give up at times… and how he drew strength to continue… it was all in his blog.

Until the trial came to an end… in what seems to be a loss, yet also a victory…

Now all alone, he turned to blogging to keep him sane.

From a single Reflections, sprouted more blogs of different interests… like he was trying to embrace every topic imaginable, as though he can.

He yawned and stretched, stand-up and walked… and looked at his blogs… there were already 12 of them… yet something’s still missing.

What could it be?

At the back of his mind, he knew what is missing. But he is hesitant… he is not sure if he wanted to do it… because he is not sure if he can do it.

Would he? Should he?

Like they say, you can only suppress something for so much time… just like a balloon that can only hold so much air, it is bound to blow up… and when it does, it wouldn’t be nice.

He wrote poems, even wrote some songs. Made some reviews, gave personal feedbacks and commentaries… what could be keeping him from doing something that he has been wanting to do for a long time? After all, it is still writing… and he loves to write.

Time is ticking… and the air in his balloon is almost getting too much to hold… it is bound to blow up… unless…

There’s no use fighting it… there’s no use running away from it… there’s no escape…

So he stood up… take one last deep breath… and prepared to face what seems to be the greatest challenge in his writing existence…

He sat down in front of his computer and created his latest blog… his short stories blog.

Are you willing to give him a chance?