I Think I Missed Out on Something Wonderful

Mood: trying to prod awake my literary muse
Now Playing: none

I went to school this morning for a meeting with infopsych members. Got a little excited at the theme we're using for the literary page - paranoia. Ohyeahbaby. Lalang. Parang ang cool kasi. Ne~?

So anyway, it's a good thing a lot of freshmen were tricked inspired to join the infopsych. They look like cute little sheep and I dunno bout you guys, but i always a get a good feeling whenever i see gullible little sheep trotting happily to a cliff called stress. Call it initiation. Call it srtess. You're not a college student if you don't pull consecutive all-nighters for non-academics. I promise.

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For the past hour, i've been thumbing through all of my blogposts and was like going "shittt, ang manly ng post na to!" or "so iba na pala sila today" or "my life sucked even back then" or a nice simple chorus of FUCKKK.

It's funny to think how personal this blog has become. I mean, look at it. 193 posts of angst, whining, and the occasional flashes of light. I dunno. It just amazes me to think that something so intangible has practically become an extended part of my being.

I remember this post that talked about how strangely peaceful the minutes before zoolab were before somebody popped the question "nag ka BF GF ka na ba? yes or no lang dapat sagot! and then comes in Bren, saying "single by choice". Lalang. That line struck me at first as lolwtfpronbbqweird, but i guess in the end, being single or being attached is first of all, is indeed a goddamn choice. Then comes a great big surrender to the other; a surrender that will depend if she will catch you when you fall.

There were also some stuff i hope none of my parents will ever get to read. (ASIDE: I know this girl who started a very very personal blog. Six months in, as she was getting a glass of water one night, she discovered her MOM reading her BLOG. OMFG, i honestly do not what i would do if that shit happened to me) WHY? Well, just because. There are some things not worth risking parental love for. like allowance, for instance

And then, of course, there are the posts with such drama i wished i could film my own sad damn life. But then of course, i would have to pick all of the actors, and omfgaah, i would be just wasting my time finding people even REMOTELY strange as their real-life counterparts.

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....

The above section was written yesterday, just a few hours ago. Writing non-stop, i closed my eyes for a bit and tsaraan. Here i am again, continuing this post.

Maybe it has something to do with the flow of thought, or the sudden realizations that creep in whenever we think of something that lead people to have - i dunno what's the politically-correct term - mood swings. I mean, look at me. Im practically a mess. I was fine a few hours ago. And now i feel like climbing up to my bed and just sleeping my life away.

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Thumbing through the posts again made me realize some shit today, though. One, i could have gotten everything i would have ever wanted. Two, i'm so blind i couldn't see somebody lying. Three, i should have met up with someone.

How stupid can i get.

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Time waits for no one.

Damn it.

My Thoughts in Probably About a Thousand Characters

Mood: m-meh
Now Playing: none.

Shhhh, people. can you hear that? that, ladies and gentlemen, was the sound of a thousand or so stupid fricks like me that got their asses handed to them by fate. AGAIN. It's priceless you know; when you think you've finally gotten at least a tiny semblance of control in your life, fate comes in and takes it all away.

I believe in karmic justice. You know, the old shiz that basically says you're going to get screwed eventually for something you did and all that. That's probably why i often have next to nothing qualms about fate shitting on me. I mean, i believe in atonement. Jesus died for our sins so i want at least to pay a fraction of mine in return. The few (okay fine, increasing) moments that i do have qualms, i blog. Or i write on my walls. Or doors. Or i draw. and realize i have no artistic talent, NOOOO

The point is, there are a thousand fricks like me that get their asses handed to them by fate on a daily fucking basis. And fuck, one must answer the question; what the hell did we do?

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If stress was a person then im married to her already. She does not want a divorce. She does not want compensation. She is a bitch. She is a bitch with fangs, nice hair, and - ohmyfuckinggawd - wears weird glasses as a finisher. GAWD. Eveyrbody knows im a sucker for people with weird glasses. No sorry, i don't know why.

And here's the clincher; no matter what the hell i do, i will always end up with her.

askldjasldj. brb, killing myself.

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CONFESSING TO 15 PERSONS.

I guess someday, i'll say all of the below items face to face to the respective people. But for now, spare me this webspace, k? k.


1. You suck,you know that?
2. You know, i had this dream once; you were at my bed, with your hair all tangled up and your drool all over. Carrying two mugs of coffee and a piece of toast in your mouth, you smile and saunter outside, the sunlight hitting your skin like candy. Then i wake up, and i see my ceiling. It's all white and dusty.
3. I really, really, really like you.
4. I'm so sorry. I really am.
5. If guts were spaghetti, i'd eat and vomit yours in a second. I hate you, that's why. Just in case you were wondering.
6. I have no idea what's on your mind. I'd love to know, though. Why? Because you're one of the greatest people i've ever met/
7. You're the glue that keeps us together. Hope you know that.
8. My God, it's like elementary all over again. Me likeys.
9. Thanks. I hope you finish your issues, soon. You deserve a life.
10. Just know that we'd be here for you, mehn. Whatever your battles are. You can cry your eyes out nao.
11. What the hell, i knew it, damnnit! dances-the-i-told-you-so-dance i just knew you were gay the the first time i saw yous! :))
12. You're a bastard. A fucking bastard with fucking bastard coating and bastard fucking filling.
13. I can't be like you.
14. You know, you just keep on getting interesting day by day. I don't know how the hell you do it, but you do. What the hell do you have for breakfast, anyway?
15. Hello, you.

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I was riding this jeepney this monday morning, enjoying the miracle that is a traffic-less road. Then this bitch climbs in and parks herself right beside me. When the jeep roared off, i got a taste of her hair; it was dancing like shit and all that. Plus, she was thumbing through it every 123789123812903890th of a second. What the fucking hell i thought. This bitch is whipping my jaws off. I then contemplated plans to strangle her with her own personal brand of rope; her hair. Where the fuck were you when God granteth thy common sense, woman?

Shutting my lips tight did not help; it went into my eyes and my nose and - ohmygod - my ears. When the time finally came to get off the jeepney, i tried saying "para" with my mouth clamped as tight as possible. Believe me, i tried. I goddamn STRUGGLED to get those words out. Unfortunately, the wind chose that time to blow like some crazed tornado and in a split second i could see her hair billowing out and and and and and and and and....

Mmm. Fruity. Apricots, i presume?


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I need to study. As in not kind of study im used to - i.e. no-studying-at-all-method = but rather the hardcore one, which is the kind of method serious people employ.

I have never been a serious person; i have no idea where to start.

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Dum Spiro, Spero.
While i breathe, i hope.

Probably the one latin phrase that stuck on me since forever.

God help me. Help us.