Original subtitles

Life is like a clean sheet of paper,

Ready to be filled with a story

that will heal a fleeting prayer.

Letters and verses bring forth smiles,

Flowing with the melody of the thoughtful wind.

Yet behind them are hidden lines.

Traces of longing asleep in the dark.

There is pain in the ink that drips

from an enduring heart,

Stories that can no longer be erased,

on pages full of sorrow.

Hello there?

Is anyone home?

Anyone home?

Ah ma’am!

Good thing you caught me.

Please sign here.

Thank you.

Okay.

Each step she takes is like a flame

slowly rising to meet the night.

Every movement of her body

is a secret longing to break free.

Her hips draw forth a tender sweetness

each curve, an unspoken call,

a silent ache of desire.

Her feet brushed against the sand,

as if telling me to come and follow.

Her eyes gleamed with teasing fire,

her lips pulling promises from the air.

Each soft gasp, each subtle curve,

she seemed to dare the night itself.

One important thing to keep in mind when writing

is the use of specific articles.

They help bring abstract ideas to life.

For example,

“The day is beautiful today.”

If you use specific articles,

The golden rays of the sun touched her cheek,

And left a glow both warm and meek.

For now, let us go back to our works.

If there are parts that

need to use specific articles.

And that’s it for the lessons for today.

Thank you.

Take care everyone.

Hello, I was the one

who sent you the request letter

Jade.

I was thinking

maybe you’re a busy person

and does not want to respond.

Critic, huh?

I don't believe in critics.

Look for a different job

that does not rely on

insulting other’s artwork.

Of course.

You need critics.

All your works should be put into a discourse.

Aside from that,

we help in explaining

your works to the readers.

Otherwise.

Otherwise, what?

Otherwise, your poems are just lines and words

grouped together.

Without meaning?

It’s not my fault

if you can’t understand

where my works are coming from.

It’s simple,

they are not for everyone.

Art should not

be selfish.

My works were never selfish.

Again,

it’s not my fault

that you lack the capacity

to understand them.

You want something easy?

Here lies the critic,

once so alive.

Quick to judge what others strive,

Yet never birthed a work his own,

Like a tree

in fullest bloom,

adorned with grace and flowers

yet void of fruit.

A poem is not made

by writing and printing it.

It has to reach someone’s heart,

or touch someone’s life.

How will that happen

if you are too indulgent to your works?

Art isn’t meant to be explained.

But it could lose its meaning.

There is a bigger world waiting to be served, Luna.

Said who?

What school do you go to again?

Nuestro College.

Why?

You sound somewhat familiar.

He must be your professor, right?

Tano.

Mr. Crisanto Balaquiot.

The most hypocrite person you'd ever know.

I can't believe he is teaching

something about the world.

Why are you so stubborn?

You’re already good in writing romance.

Don’t push your poetic nonsense anymore.

But why?

The market’s just not buying

your overly “deep” language in those romance novels.

Even if you create the best piece of work.

If the people can’t understand it,

It could lose its meaning.

It should connect to the readers.

There is a bigger world

waiting to be served.

It’s not even that deep--

There's no way

my publishing house

will release this kind of work.

Look,

we don’t need to make this hard for ourselves.

Whatever sells,

That's it.

End of story.

You can do that later.

You have plenty of time to do that.

Stop doing that now.

I told you to stop doing that, right?

What the hell?

My love, I’m sorry.

Sorry, I didn’t mean to.

Love. I really didn’t mean to.

My love, I’m sorry.

He doesn't know what love feels like.

Doesn’t know how to appreciate anything

except what they think they should feel,

or what they want to feel.

And now he teaches

on how to serve the world?

Come on, Jade.

Don't you find it pathetic?

But he isn’t the person your poems in that book are referring to.

Well,

not, entirely.

There’s nothing to about it here.

Thank you,

for visiting.

You

are the moon that lights my night.

Your smile alone

makes my heart take flight.

Your voice a song divine.

That fills my dreams and stirs this soul of mine.

Only with you have I felt such bliss,

My once-silent heart.

Now sings because of this.

Where is she?

How long must I drift through endless space,

A nameless world in a boundless place?

A planet with no orbit to call its own,

Its sorrow vast as the stars unknown.

She is a star

beyond my hand,

A light I see but can’t command.

Each move you make feels like a dance,

The motion of your hand

is music to a heart that aches in silence.

Within this dance, your gaze so deep.

A tale is born, one sweet to keep.

With every step you take, the world trembles,

like a prayer that never ends.

Though I’m not part of your laughter,

I’m but a shadow just to watch and linger.

To see that smile upon your face,

is joy enough I’ll always embrace.

Your voice is like a song

like a lullaby to a lonely night so long.

With every step you take, the world trembles,

like a prayer that never ends.

When I close my eyes.

You are the tune that I’m hearing.

Even in my dreams, I do not stop listening.

Hi, ma’am!

Look at you all being so productive!

Oh, I didn’t know, there was something like this.

- Natural water resources? - What is that?

I wonder why they are called like this?

Natural because they already exist in the nature.

Hmm, how about the sea?

Of course the sea is a natural resource

because it gives tourism, jobs,

and most of all, food!

Can we go to the groto?

Huh?

Hmm... okay.

Just don’t go to the deep parts, okay?

Hey guys! Wait a minute.

Let’s clean these up first.

Don’t worry about these anymore, go with them.

Thank you, ma'am.

Take care, okay? Don’t go to the deep parts.

Yes, ma'am.

AC?

Elly?

JL?

AC?

JL, Elly, where are you guys?

Where on the earth are these children?

I told them not to go far.

Naughty kids.

Ouch!

AC? JL? Elly?

What are you doing here?

What happened to you?

I got leg cramps.

Are you okay though?

Ouch!

Sorry.

It really hurts!

Hey, look at me,

You can do this.

I’ll count one to three, okay?

One, two, three...

Just go and sit down please.

Relax your foot first.

Steady, steady,

May I ask, whose library is this?

This one?

The ARMY funded and built this.

I just volunteered.

Are you a teacher?

Nope.

I’m a writer.

Writer?

What do you write about?

Just whatever that comes to mind.

What do you mean by that?

Whatever it is to write about.

Sorry.

It’s okay.

Are all writers like that?

Mysterious?

Of course not.

This is embarrassing.

Don’t be shy!

Tell me what you write about?

I write.

Poems.

Is that why

you have

spoken word and poetry camp?

Which one here, hurts?

Uhm...

Here.

What’s your favorite food?

Why are you asking?

Nothing.

Just asking you random questions.

Why, are you a chef?

Oh, I’m not.

Because, I thought you’re going to cook for me.

Chicken,

Fried chicken.

See, so ordinary.

There's nothing special

with being a writer.

Thank you.

Rest your foot first, okay?

- I need to get going. - Huh?

Are you sure you’re going?

Ella, my name is Ella.

Luna.

It was her sign that she wants to meet again.

It wasn’t love.

Who cares?

Who cares on how love starts?

The world around me, lush and green,

a peaceful sight, a gentle scene.

The wind that whispers through the air,

a tender song beyond compare.

Its touch upon my skin, so kind

brings calm and ease to heart and mind.

How beautiful this earth can be.

The waves are gentle, so inviting

the clear waters are simply breathtaking.

[spoken poetry continues]

What are you doing here?

Why? Am I not allowed here?

Not really.

See.

I cooked for you.

Hmm...

It’s burnt.

What is it like, being a writer?

Why are you laughing?

What’s funny with what I said?

You’re always laughing at me!

Hey, that’s not true.

Life is still normal,

Just the usual

I still sleep.

I take a bath.

I eat,

I even wash my plates.

We just like...

Writing.

That’s it.

But of course, writers look at the world differently.

Right?

There’s depth!

Sometimes.

But you don’t need to be a writer.

To have a different perspective about the world.

We just differ in our ways of understanding.

And...

The way we express our feelings.

For others,

painter,

or sculptors.

Even engineers and architects.

Even you.

A very talented dancer.

How did you know?

Come on, Luna,

Make me a poem.

I’ve never heard one.

There’s one earlier in the poetry camp!

I knew it, you’re no listening.

Please?

Make me a poem

please?

Nope.

Are you going to tell me,

how you knew I was a dancer?

Or...

I’m going to kiss you.

Come on!

The water is cold!

Come with me! Let’s go!

Your kiss, a wave upon the shore,

a surge that leaves me longing more.

Like moonlight drowning out the night,

You leave your warmth like silver light.

Your hips the shape of an hourglass of grace,

where every grain falls sweet and paced.

And like the bells at midnight’s call.

They whisper soft through shadow’s thrall.

Wake and meet the kiss.

Are you saying that Ella made the first move?

Why would that matter?

Obviously.

She is younger than you.

And so?

She can’t do that.

Why are you all so concerned

about the age, or who started first?

Or even gender, for that matter.

When you’re in love.

Everything is nothing.

Looks like you’ve got a long way home.

Maybe you should get going.

Do you worry about me?

That’s rather surprising.

Why did Ella leave you?

I tried to stay away from her.

You are the moon that lights my night.

Your smile alone makes my heart take flight.

Your voice a song divine.

That fills my dreams and stirs this soul of mine.

Only with you have I felt such bliss,

My once-silent heart.

Now sings because of this.

Why?

- Is it not good? - Of course not.

It really is so sweet.

Don’t worry.

When I get better in this.

I will write you a better poem!

Whatever it is,

as long as it’s from you.

Ow, it hurts.

- Ouch... - Why?

What happened to you?

Not--

- It's noth... - What is this?

I bumped into a cabinet.

- What’s that? - Where are your group mates?

Don’t you guys have practice? Come, let’s find them.

Ella...

There’s something you need to know.

Do you write too?

Uhm.

I’m still studying it.

It’s a good thing you got interested.

I got inspired by Luna.

Why not,

stay the night here?

I don’t want this anymore.

Let go of me!

Let go! You are hurting me!

You really like making things hard for me!

Stop!

Ella?

How do you put up with this?

I don't even know.

I’m scared.

I can’t breathe.

You animal!

You animal!

You animal!

You dirty animal!

You shameless animal!

Let’s go. Let’s get out of here!

Come on, let’s go.

Luna, let’s go.

Let go of her!

Luna...

I’m sorry, Luna.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.

Luna, let’s leave please?

I’m sorry.

Leave him.

Come, come.

Come inside.

Sorry, it’s dirty.

But come in.

It’s just temporary that we’re here.

The important thing is...

You’ve escaped that demon.

A wave in the middle of a storm.

Silent, yet the heart is sharp and warm.

Can change the direction of the wind’s song.

Even walls crumble to your touch so strong.

It was never love.

You just used her!

You just used her to escape from your miserable life!

Yes! My life is miserable.

I was blinded and fooled by the wrong person.

But when I met Ella,

I started to feel again.

It started to feel that I have a life.

I started to choose myself again.

I did not use Ella, Jade.

I did not fool her.

Every thing that I felt for her was true.

But, she still left you.

She will come back.

I know she will come back.

That’s why you still continue to write?

You’re hoping that it might reach her?

You don’t get to decide how I feel.

What makes you think that she still thinks of you?

That she still feels something for you?

You know nothing, Jade.

Oh, I know.

I know you’re still imprisoned

inside the memories you have of Ella.

And she will never come back to you.

Sorry, the rain got me.

I told you, just tell me where you are

so I can fetch you.

It’s okay.

There are people there.

It’s kinda weird so I just left.

Who?

No one.

Just a random lady.

Are you good? Let’s go?

Okay.

Guys! Let’s take a picture!

Ella!

She must be a writer?

I wonder what she is writing about?

I heard she is a volunteer at the ARMY library.

Huh, where’s that?

I made a mistake,

I shouldn’t have mentioned you to her.

I shouldn’t have said anything about you.

What are you even doing here?

Nothing.

I just happen to pass by.

I just visited the...

the, uh, Groto...

Do you like her?

No?

It’s fine with me if you tell me

that she is the one you love.

- Jade... - I saw the two of you.

Jade, I need to go

Ella...

I knew.

But I still chose to stay.

She was just confused, that’s why.

I let her to understand things on her own.

I hoped that in the end...

She still chooses me.

Babe?

What happened to you?

I’m okay.

I’m okay.

Can you...

take a picture of me?

Sure.

But when you’ve recovered, okay?

Did you drink your meds already?

Thank you, Jade.

Make sure that I look pretty there, okay?

How can you still laugh?

Is it funny to have your picture taken?

Or joke about your sickness?

Meanwhile, every day and every night,

I can’t think of anything else but pray

that you won’t disappear.

I want to get mad.

I want to get mad at Luna

I want to get mad at you!

Because I missed the moments.

That are supposed to be ours.

But I endured that.

And I’m happy that you are here.

I’m happy that you came back.

Because you’re the one that’s important to me Ella.

But to lose you?

That’s something I just can’t handle.

I really can’t.

Ella.

I can’t, Ella.

Everything must come to an end.

There are happy days you think will last forever.

The park was filled with endless sound,

Yet in one corner, peace I found.

Silent as the moon above,

You watched and guarded with quiet love.

Suddenly, I felt the cold wind’s sweep,

I wonder if you too felt it deep.

All the way as I made my way home,

It’s only you I wanted to call my own.

It’s a shame that all things must end,

Like autumn leaves that fall and bend.

Though I wither, I cannot show,

Yet you remain the memory I know.

Now I am ashes in twilight’s glow,

Carried by winds that brush you slow.

At night, I’m the shadow of the moon,

Quietly watching, always in tune,

Keeping guard over you till dawn’s first light,

You are the shooting star that passed my night of doubt,

Leaving a glow within my heart, no shadow left about.

In every breeze, your farewells softly play,

Like roses blooming beneath the moon’s gentle sway.

I cannot claim you, like waves boundless and free,

Yet you cleansed the shores of my heart full of prayer.

Fate penned this fleeting dream we share,

With stars above that forever flare.

The light from the East brings a journey anew,

A morning refreshed, bathed in sky’s tender hue.