Mha Realistic

Tunnels deconstructs the individual’s Romantic fascination with ‘love’ or the grammaticality of beauty. Ideally, the ‘tunnels’ in the collection are subterranean love poems from the suburban imaginary. These seemingly syntactic tunnels travel through one’s literary imagination or heterotopic dreamscapes, and while αγάπη (Greek for ‘love’) inspires these rhizomic tunnels to navigate the abysmal ‘meta-spectacle’ of gesture, language or moment of poemness, the mind like the many-colored jeepneys of Manila, where driving past roast goose restaurants in Shek Kip Mei or spotting stilt houses in Kampong Kleang, attempt to explore the transgeneric textualities of the everyday, alongside the unstructurality of time and space, the littoral and the liminal.

On a rainy day, I gave my pregnant neighbor a ride home since it was on my way. As a result, she became clingy and started insisting I drive her home every day. When I refused, she teared up and accused me of lacking compassion. Her husband even showed up at my door, demanding, "Why won't you take my wife to and from work? Are you looking down on us?" In the end, I sold my car and moved to a new place. If I couldn’t afford to offend them, at least I could avoid them!

I was finally pregnant with his child after being married to Grady Winters for five years. I planned to share the wonderful news with him in person, but on that fateful day, I encountered his first love, who had just returned from abroad. She scalded me with soup, spilling it across me before shoving me down the stairs. Curled up and fighting through the piercing pain in my abdomen, I heard her cold, mocking laughter from above. "Who do you think you are to be Mrs. Winters? I've seen plenty of women who are social climbers." Then, she turned to Grady, her voice laced with pride. She playfully pouted, asking, "Didn't I do a good job, Grady? Don't you think you should reward me as well?"

Alaya Sarim was a muslim girl, her mother died when she was 12. Her father married a rich christian women to support his business. Alaya's stepmother arranged a party, and invited her rich friends. Gerard hawkins, her stepmother's best friend and one of LA's richest man saw Alaya at the party. His sexual desire and lust for her leads to kiss her forcefully, but ended up with a slap! To satisfy his lust and revenge, he kidnapped her with the help of her stepmother and married her forcefully against her will. Her father remain unaware of the whole situation. And she ended up in a cruel world of Gerard Hawkins!! She spent months with him to only face his beast lashing out at her. She remained faithful to him. The months were in agony, he abused her as he wanted but suddenly he disappeared leaving her pregnant when she finally thought that they can live together happily after spending a memorable night with her which they both never forget. But it happens to be that they have to meet soon and have a lot to say and face.......

“Grandfather, please don't marry me off to this waste of space. He is just a lowlife that is sick, carrying diseases around, and being gross!” Ava said, getting more and more enraged with each word coming from her mouth. “That's enough! Ava, stop that right now!” Mrs. Taylor said. “Don’t order your grandfather!” “If you insist on giving Ava to me, I would walk out of here now and never look back. A woman like her is not something that interests me.” Zane said, his voice steady as he met the old man's eyes, his words pissing Ava and her parents off.

My African American Mom married a rich Japanese man. As I moved the skeleton of my new bed next to the window, I felt a gaze focused on me. Outside my window, was the house next door. The house shape was similar to ours, so it also had a window facing mine at the same level. Standing there on the other side was a skinny Japanese boy. As soon as I laid eyes on him, he stiffened, then shyly smiled and waved. His hair was all over the place, seeing him in his tanktop I thought to myself that he must've just rolled out of bed. But wasn't it the afternoon already? The boy says something but of course I can't hear him with my window closed so I slide it open. "Eto....hi." He tried in English. If someone were to tell me later I'd come to care about him deeply, I'd find that hard to believe. For as long as I could remember I've always felt empty. And that emptiness, I hid on instinct.

My sister pushes her daughter at a murderer so she can win the prize in a photography competition. After this, she even uses the incident and my name to extort the victim to pay an astronomical sum as compensation. The victim stabs me to death in a fit of rage. When my son, who is brought up by me, learns the truth, he doesn't seek justice for me. Instead, he scatters my ashes in the sea and says, "My mother told me that I would've been the happiest child in the world if not for you taking the wrong child home back then." When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to when my daughter was five years old. I have a month until her death. This time, I'm going to protect my child to the best of my abilities. I won't bother about an ingrate anymore.

After silently contributing to his marriage for three years, Frederick York's wife demands a divorce, citing that she can't stand him. Then, when his true identity is revealed, his ex-wife and her family are filled with regret.

If I were a poet I would write sonnets Dedicating to your beauty with utmost honest! If I were a priest! I would preach your love with utmost sweet!But Alas!I'm none of the aboveIn your world,I'm just a wild beast!

A major romantic disappointment leads Lizandra to leave her hometown and accept a job offer in Rio de Janeiro, but her impulsive act leads her into a scam. Lizandra finds herself trapped in a big city where she knows absolutely no one. However, an accident introduces her to wonderful people, and perhaps she has found a true family. Now, she just needs to convince the handsome and arrogant Heitor Alves de Bragança that she's not a con artist willing to take advantage of people who have only helped her.