Posture check.

“This fall I think you’re riding for–it’s a special kind of fall, a horrible kind. The man falling isn’t permitted to feel or hear himself hit bottom. He just keeps falling and falling. The whole arrangement’s designed for men who, at some time or other in their lives, were looking for something their own environment couldn’t supply them with. Or they thought their own environment couldn’t supply them with. So they gave up looking. They gave it up before they ever really even got started. You follow me?” – Mr. Antolini from JD Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye.


I’m angry.

It’s all angry pms-inspired trash talk. 

It annoys me how your pride can be taller than you, but not surprisingly because you’re not really “tall”. You remind me of those people who talk dung about others, that they’re such jerks and they do not deserve what they have, and that you try so hard but you still don’t get what you want, and what the hell is wrong with this world because it’s so effing unfair to you that you just want to quit and run away or even kill yourself. The thing is you expect too much from people who don’t necessarily have mutual feelings towards your disposition. Then you will enrage yourself because of getting rejected for your overly scripted romantic efforts. This, in turn, drives more people away. You have back ups for people, but not for other things that screw up your life. Your insecurities haunt you though your pride does not allow you to admit it. So, you engage with a lot of personalities, and one by one, you scare them, or they just do not like you in the first place. You know what’s wrong? Deep inside, maybe at the back of your head or in the hollow space between your ears, you nourish the idea that you ARE good enough (blame me for probably feeding your ego once in a while). BUT you’re not – if you continue to act this way. It’s for your own good if you stop expecting people to like you in return. Well, I don’t. I probably never will, no matter how I force myself into imagining that you are likable in all manners of liking. Believe me, I am pathetic enough to admit that during those conversations, I swallowed ideas of you being such an educated, refined person. Too bad, you’re not.

Another annoyance is how you can state your dreams with profound interest, yet you never do them. You start and never finish. Maybe you like the starting post a lot. Maybe you’re just as lazy as I am. Nevertheless, I kind of pity you for not seeing the good things around you because you love dwelling on the things that are not there, and the things that you cannot possibly have without you having to work hard on them. If ever you think running away is a good solution and starting over, maybe you should think about it for a moment. You were given a chance to start over more than a year ago, but you messed it up. What if you mess up the second time around? Why don’t you just continue from where you are right now, and fix things. It takes a lot of courage, and I know you can do it. But hell, you’re letting cowardice to reign your system. You are, surprisingly, a person I respect for messing things up all the time. I don’t know. I’ll stick with you no matter what you do, but please don’t be a coward. If there’s one thing you need, it’s that.

You annoy me, too. Just like the rest of them. You expect me to accept your stuck up notions. I’m not such a dumbass as before. Honestly, why are you so keen on committing if it’s a one way party?

People blame you for being the devil. Ahh, yes. Whenever I think about it, you represent all of them. There are people who care for you but you take them for granted. Is it your pride in keeping your path straight or is it because of some person in your past who messed up your forsaken life? At least think about your kin.

And you. You’re the weirdest, lousiest person I’ve known, but you are one heck of a beautiful bruise.


That sudden thumping of my chest startled me. Was it because of a somewhat predictably good ending of a book or my sitting up so fast or a dead memory resurrecting before my eyes? I don’t know but it suddenly stopped when I shut the latter off. It’s like my pulse gasped for another one of those unmistakable vacuum-worthy moments. Then as I talked, I realized a self-fulfilling prophecy. I’m definitely not in the mood to leave this solitary bubble – and you’re not my type.
Off the hook, baby. Go fish for other fishies.

If there’s one thing I learned here in America, it is to be ready and always have a backup. Taste and test. And if you like something, dwell on it for a moment. If it makes you gag or you see something that looks more edible, set the first dish aside and try another. Nothing too serious. It’s all play. When plan A is messed up, switch to plan B and so on. Go back to plan A if you feel like it. You can also choose to pick two or more selections at once. They love multi-tasking here. In matters of happiness, they love instant surges of nirvana – those 6 minute illusions that take you way off course from your wholesome destination, and still you yearn from more of what harms you. Before I forget, if you feel something for plan A, don’t just leave it because of how big of a jerk you’ve been. Plan A is always an option.
It’s better to stay at home than waste your life on silly little buggers who don’t value the things they need, but ardently complain about the things they want – ignoring their knowledge that the things they want can be succeeded by the things they need.
If you think it’s that easy to depend, it’s not. Just cause you’ve got your own way of living doesn’t mean you can criticize mine.
Yes. It all boils down to that simple core of society – that smallest unit of community. I have mine, and I’m willing to spend all my time with them, and not waste it on you. After all, you’re the one who taught me how all romanticism in the world can fit in that small head, yet love is absent in that pathetic heart. Disgusting. Thanks, you’re too much to bear. I can’t really feel anything towards anything that has no familiar connection. At all.


empty or solitary?

Insect bites.

They itch. They burn. They drive you to insanity. You don’t like them; nevertheless, you get them. You try smearing some ointment, but no matter what you do, it still shows the blood bumping off your skin. You won’t forget – cause it will itch some more and more and more… until you hurt yourself for diversion’s sake.


Finally, the clearance of intoxication releases me from my own deathly grip. I can now strip the chicken of its wings, and all the dragonflies of their eyes. Let’s pause for a moment and remember all the deaths brought by such an irrational action.

If there’s one thing she saw from the trip, it’s the memory eraser. She doesn’t know how people manage to live without their memories, but they do. They’re fond of it, even. So she tried it. Big deal? Yea. After that anesthetic experience, everything is scratched from her subconscious, including the mistakes and the achievements she has worked hard on in her life. So what? It gave her a fresh start, yes. But it also gave her a greater allowance in making mistakes. More beautiful mistakes don’t really please people.

Bring it back, please. Bring it all back.

To random people:

  • Thanks a lot.
  • I’m not interested.
  • You don’t know how much I’m thankful.
  • Smile.
  • I know it’s too slow that’s why I bought a jet.
  • I miss you.
  • Of course I’m not attracted to anything or anyone, so don’t even try thinking about what I’m thinking.
  • We’re all hungry.
  • I like burnt pizza too.
  • Sorry, I’m late.
  • You’re such a diligent kid.
  • You’re just like my sister.
  • Please don’t hurt her.
  • Please stop hurting.
  • I wish you’re real. HAHA.

Gah. It sounds too operatic but it’s not. Don’t think too hard. You’ll see it soon enough.

Too bad?

Here’s one final blow on the negative chakra I’ve left in me. Who can ever get sick of drama? Is it really in the female anatomy that we are such suckers for bloody heartaches and sentiments? I don’t know but I think I’m turning male tonight. Maybe that tennis ball did a good job. Ahh. A job. Haha. Laugh it off. Some voice at the back of my head tells me there’s that tick tock for everything. Oh yea maybe.

One. Please don’t put words in my mouth. I’ve got a brain as competent as yours, thank you very much.
Two. There is something there that wasn’t there before.
Three. I wonder why I didn’t see it there before. Ay. nunal?
Four. Edward and Bella from Twilight, puhleeze get the heck out of my head.
Five. Stone hard. Stone cold. More cement, please.

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