Mother’s Day. Such a late post.

Last Sunday was Mother’s Day, today is Wednesday. So many things have gone on in the past couple of days. I haven’t been able to focus on this blog that much. Today, I will hopefully be able to make up for that with a couple of posts starting with this one. Last Sunday, me and my girlfriend gave out a bunch of mother’s day gifts. So far in my immediate family there are three mothers: my mom, sister, and sister-in-law. We also got my other sister a gift but that’s because it’s her birthday today. So along with the gifts, we also got them cards. My girlfriend wrote them a message thanking them for being so nice to her and welcoming her to the family. On the other side of the cards I wrote them poems. I am not really good at writing poems. I don’t really enjoy reading poetry. I do, however, enjoy the works of the late Shel Silverstein. Falling Up, Where the Sidewalk Ends, A Light in the Attic, and The Giving Tree were my jams growing up along with a bunch of Dr. Seuss books. So this is where I get most of my inspiration from when I do try to write some poetry. For example, on my sister’s card for Mother’s Day I wrote her:

Mother of Two

You’re a mother of two

But don’t turn blue

Because it’s nice to know that two people love you

So try to stay healthy

No need to be hasty

Just sit and drink tea, trust me it’s tasty

I wrote that because we got her this tea that she really liked for Mother’s Day from Teavana, and also because she’s a mother of two. As weird as it is I actually pat myself on the back whenever I finish a poem like this. For my creative writing class in college, I completely bombed the poetry writing part of the class, so whenever I do finish something I always look on the bright side of it, and honestly I think I can write cards for Hallmark or something.

So in honor of Silverstein and Seuss, my piece of fiction for today will be sort of for children. A few years back, I came up with an idea for a children’s book about a boy who woke up one day and discovered that he can fly, but he could not land. I was never able to write the story so I thought it could work for this blog entry today.

He woke up that morning with a jolt in middle of his back. The warmth and comfort of his bed wasn’t there anymore, but instead it was his body telling him that something was wrong. When he opened his eyes he saw that the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be. He can count the little cracks in the wall. His hands couldn’t feel the bed and his legs were dangling at an awkward position. He looked down to realize that he was flying. Roughly eight hours ago, his mom tucked him in bed and read him a story, and now he was flying. He tried to move around but his body wouldn’t let him. He was just floating aimlessly.Twisting and turning in mid-air made him realize that he was being silly. “Humans don’t fly!!” he said to himself. So there would be no possible way for him to know how to fly now that he was flying. “So what next?” He thought to himself. So he worked his brain hard, harder than he ever had before in his 10 years of living.

“Maybe if I flap my wings like a bird!!”

So he flapped like a duck, like an eagle, like a hawk, like a dove, but nothing happened. He still floated aimlessly not knowing what to do. He felt like calling for help but he didn’t want to get in trouble.

“Maybe if I swim like I would in water!!”

So he swam like a person, like a dog, like a fish, like a shark, but nothing happened. He was still at the same spot that he woke up in.

“Maybe if I fly like a superhero would!!”

So he put his arms forward like Superman, like Ironman, like Captain Marvel. He even thought of what Batman would do, but nothing happened. He still was not moving, and now he was afraid. Afraid because if he didn’t know how to fly then that also meant he did not know how to get down. He was going to be stuck there forever. Tears started to go down his face and an unrelenting cry for help came out of his mouth.


At that moment, the door opened and his mother walked into the room with a smile on her face.

“Ethan, what are you doing up there?”

She grabbed him from the air and sat him on his bed.

“Breakfast is ready. Go wash your face and go downstairs.”

She kissed Ethan on the forehead and walked out the room.



Motivation to Continue

I’ve always wanted to start a blog, I just never really had the discipline needed to write in it often. But I finally realized that was my very problem, I used the word discipline. I’m not saying that discipline isn’t required to do something you love. I’m just saying that it shouldn’t be the first thing on your list of problems when you can’t pursue your passion. If I can’t find the time to do my passion, which is writing, then what the hell am I doing with my life? I just moved back to the US of A from the Philippines where I earned my bachelors degree in Literature, I don’t have a job, I plan to continue my studies but I am not starting anytime soon. So this is the perfect time to start writing, reading, living my life and doing the things that I want to do. This is a gift!! I am so lucky to have all of these options and opportunities. So I’ve decided that my motivation to continue this blog will always be because it’s my passion, I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was in the 5th grade and nothing is going to stop me from being just that.


The pages are blank, the pen is left motionless to the side. His hands have a firm grip on his hair, he’s slowly pulling at it hoping that it will give him inspiration. The pages are still blank, his thoughts are twisting and turning in his head. He’s reaching back as far as he can for some distant memory. The smell of freshly baked cookies, the perfume that his mom wore, the sound of his father muttering to himself as he reads the morning paper. He had a typical family, the kind that got featured in magazines or coffee table books. Why couldn’t he have a destructive and dramatic family? That would make for good writing. The pages are still blank, the pen no longer on the side, it is now in the writers hand. He slowly lowers it to the paper, it touches the page and leaves a black dot on the upper left portion. All stories start with a dot, an empty thought that every writer leaves on the page when struggling with “writers block”. He stares at it for a few seconds, hoping that the story would just shape itself. Hoping that he is no longer needed to craft this tale, to smith these words together into a cohesive piece of fiction. The pages are no longer blank, there is a dot in the upper left portion of the page. It waits there, mocking the writer of his failure to continue the story, teasing him with it’s existence.

Thoughts on the Blog and another Micro Story

It’s hard to find a general direction for my blog, I think it’s mainly because I like to write about so many things. I like this freedom though, I like how I can just write about anything without being constricted by the directions that my college Professors would usually give me. This blog is really in the early stages of its progression, you can tell by looking at the posts I made two years ago when I first created this wordpress account. Initially it was made for me to write some of my observations in life and a whole bunch of other stuff that I never really followed up on. I even have a sports article written on the Warriors that I posted a couple of days ago. Speaking of the Warriors I am really glad that they released Mark Jackson, he was great and all but I feel like he was the one thing holding the team back. Whoever they hire, I just hope he can come up with a great offensive system while still keeping them defensively stout like they were under Jackson.

Anyways yesterday I posted my first micro story, and today I am going to post another one. My wife read the one yesterday and said that she liked it even though it was a bit creepy. So we’re going to try and go for a different approach this time around.


It never occurred to me that the table wasn’t flat. I wiped my hand across the entire surface of the table and I realized for the first time that it had bumps and holes on it. Perhaps I never figured this out because mother always had the most beautiful table cloths draped over the table. Sitting on top of the table cloth every morning was an assortment of breakfast food, newly cooked garlic rice, eggs, tapa, bangus, and tocino. The smell of the food always reached my room upstairs, and it woke me up like an alarm clock. I would get up, wash my face and head downstairs ready to feast on whatever was there. That was such a long time ago, years and years have passed by and this house is now empty. No more furniture, no more people, no more food, just an empty table in the middle of the kitchen, standing there bare for everyone to see.





Micro Stories

In college I attended a workshop on micro fiction, which is funny because recently a series of micro horror stories made a run around the internet. Fredric Brown wrote a story, which if I’m not mistaken is one of the shortest horror stories:

“The last man alive sits alone in a room. There‚Äôs a knock at the door.”

Micro fiction doesn’t have to be that short, the story I wrote for the workshop was around 120 words long. The challenge is still being able to implement the same elements of fiction that a short story or novel would have with a small word count. I think it’s brilliant because it gives writers the ability to allow readers to fill up some spots in the story themselves. For example, in Brown’s story above, the reader can come up with so many reasons why the last man is in the room. The reader can also come up with whoever is knocking on the door. It gives readers an opportunity to interact more with the story. So I plan to release a bunch of micro fiction stories per day, starting with today. There will only be one simple rule, and that is I can not surpass 200 words for each story.


I lie awake, thinking about the dreams I have at night. Are they so different from the dreams of others? Has this all been a waking nightmare to begin with? I stand up and walk to the kitchen. The cold sting of the tiles wake me up as I pour myself a glass of water. The kitchen window is staring at me blankly, the city lights stare at me like candles in a long forgotten world. I look closely at a window not so far from mine. A man was also standing there holding a mug, his window must have been staring back at him as well, because he seemed to have the same amount of interest in it as I did. I try to wave at him to get his attention, he waved back. For a split second my heart stopped. In that tiny fraction of time when I waved and he waved back at me. I was completely convinced that he was me, and I was him.

Warrior Lose, But Not All Is Lost.


The Golden State Warriors were undersized and under coached. But that didn’t stop them from turning this 1st round series into a seven game thriller. With the loss of Andrew Bogut leaving a trail of “what-ifs”, excuses, and “FUCK YOU DEANDRE JORDAN” all over the Bay Area, Marreese Speights, Jermaine O’neal, Draymond Green, and David Lee tried their best to compete with the duo of Jordan and Griffin. Some say the Warriors under achieved during the regular season; that, with a better coach, they might have been able to grab a higher seed and avoid the Clippers, who match up with them so well. But the Warriors proved that despite lacking a #fullsquad, they can compete with and beat the best of them.

The series could have gone either way. Both teams had blow out victories and both teams won nail biters. The result, of course, was two famished fan bases getting exactly what they wanted: playoff basketball. Not “make the playoffs and get swept in the first round” basketball, but playoff basketball in its highest shape and form. It’s just a shame that with the state of the Eastern Conference, teams like Memphis and Golden State have to go home early, when I’m sure they would have beaten teams like Brooklyn and Toronto in a 7 game series. It’s a good thing the Western Conference makes up for how bad the Eastern Conference looks in these playoffs.

The Warriors still have a lot to work on this off season. But at least they come away from these playoffs with some valuable experience. A seven game series against a talented team like the Clippers is no joke, and the Warriors will certainly come back next season battle tested and ready.


This is where the road gets tough and although the Warriors did a good job making this series competitive, they cant blame the loss all on the absence of Bogut. As much as I hate to say it I think Mark Jackson should be replaced this offseason. He’s a great motivator and a great players coach, but the Warriors need a tactician, someone who can go blow for blow with guys like Popovich, Doc Rivers, and Rick Carlisle. A perfect example is after Blake Griffin makes an alley-oop off a Golden State turnover Jackson calls a timeout, now usually in a situation like this the coach would draw up an intricate play that would lead to a possible easy basket. Doc Rivers and Rick Carlise are some of the best at drawing up a play after a timeout. For the Warriors however the best that Jackson can come up with is a pick and roll at the top of the key and see what happens from there. A lot of credit though should be given to Doc Rivers who’s defensive schemes to stop Curry. Every time a pick would be set up for Curry the player defending the roll man would double Curry immediately forcing the ball out of his hands. They played physical against Curry and although he still averaged 23 points and 8 assists in the series the clippers made him work hard and earn every point he made.


Usually being ugly is a bad thing but right now I’m going to be using it in a good way. Draymond Green was a beast this series, with the loss of Bogut the entire team took on Greens personality on the defensive end. They were gritty, tough, and unrelenting. Griffin may have had a great series but Draymond Green made sure he worked for every single one of those points. If the Warriors got away with a game seven victory then I would have picked Green as our MVP, he anchored our defense and made sure Griffin didn’t have an easy time in the paint.

Making Friends

Imagine this scenario:

A guy is sitting at the bar alone. He’s drinking a beer, his tie is loose, sleeves are folded up, his suit jacket is hanging at the back of his chair he’s obviously had a long day at work and he just wants to relax. Enter frame some random guy holding a beer, he’s in smart casual clothing a collared shirt, khaki pants, and boat shoes. both of these men are probably in their early 30’s. Guy in smart casual clothing (lets call him guy number 2) approaches stressed guy at the bar (lets call him guy number 1) and asks him for his name they start chatting for a while and exchange numbers. They meet up again and hang out for the next few years and end up at guy number 2’s wedding, guy number 1 is the best man.

Now can anybody see what is wrong with this story? no? anybody?

The problem with this story is that it probably never happens. A man can not go into a bar alone with the purpose of making a guy friend. It is just unheard of. In fact by the time guys hit their 30’s they should already have an established group of friends that they are going to grow old with. Because at the age of 30 it is going to be really hard to make friends. I think its best shown in the movie “I Love You Man” I’m not saying that all guys are like Paul Rudd in that movie. Its just you have to admit making new friends at that age is just awkward and you can just see it in Paul Rudd’s character.

Why is it so awkward for guys to make friends at that age? or why does it seem so awkward? I’m sure there are plenty of guys out their who have made new friends at the age of 30 and above but there is just this general awkwardness that just comes with making friends at that age. (well at least I feel it I dont know about everyone else) Its most probably because at a certain age men can not have small talk anymore. Relationships in general start with small talk and we all usually have the smallest of talks when we are kids. As kids we talk about anything and we can relate to one another thats why making friends as a kid is supposed to be so easy, just talk. However the bigger we get the more we have to engage in BIG talks and right away our minds will associate these big talks with work or something “unfriendly”. If we meet friends as kids or teenagers the talk just naturally becomes “big”. But as adults it just is big, I can have a conversation with a taxi driver about who he voted for in the past elections that doesnt make me friends with him but its perfectly ok to ask. However if I were just to randomly ask him what his favorite color is or food then that would just seem weird.

You cant build a real friendship out of big building blocks, you have to start with the small pieces first.



That feeling you get when you’re trying to blog

Usually blogs have a purpose. There are fashion blogs, food blogs, tech blogs, porn blogs, music blogs blah blah blah the list goes on and on. If he/she is not writing about a specific topic then usually the blog will be about the writer his/her daily routine and the exciting things that happen throughout the day. This blog however has not picked a direction yet. In an American college setting this blog would be “undeclared” its not a major in anything.

Without a major or a course this blog is completely lost and I have most probably failed the blogosphere and everyone involved in it. Luckily I dont give up that easily. The problem now that I have to face and overcome is that feeling you get when you’re trying to blog. There is inhibition. There is doubt. There is the same fear that will take the heart of Aragorn but it will not be on this day. On this day I will type.

Lord of the Rings references aside though, this speed bump is a pretty hard one to overcome. Unless I learn how to be comfortable with my writing I will never be able to spread my wings and blog like the beautiful butterfly I know I can be. Which is why I have come up with a solution: the first entries in this blog will be what I like to call “feeler entries” in these entries I’m just going to type and type about any topic that interests me that day. It could be video games, sports, a movie anything in the galaxy. Hopefully by the end of the “feeler entries” I’ll be able to start blogging/writing for real.


Testing Testing

If you’re wondering why there is a red neck with a dead boar posted here Its because I wanted to test out putting a picture.

The Start of Something Special

I have been going about my career as a literature student as if it didnt really matter to me. As if I was just on this free ride from my parents and me studying had no bearing on what I was going to do with my life. Well after a bit of soul searching I decided to try and do something productive with the “skill set” that I have. I like to think I can write people seem to think I have this very small ability to be “creative” (whatever that means). So i decided to put that to the test and start a blog.


This will probably be the only post that will be about me and the feelings that I have for entering the “blogosphere” so don’t worry substantial stuff will be up as soon as i realize what the hell I want to talk about. If you guys are wondering why the URL is “masterswami” that’s just the name i got from a wu tang clan name generator online. It’s the same way Donald Glover got his rapping name Childish Gambino and for some reason it seemed to fit. (Actually I just couldnt think of any other name to put)

So yeah this blog will pretty much cover a wide range of topics from video games, sports, food, beer pretty much everything I enjoy until I find that one thing that really makes me want to write. So in the mean time I hope you guys enjoy this post about the blog or whatever you want to call it