Bedtime Stories

Dear blog, I already owe you a lot of stories. Let me first start with academics.

I made it to the Dean's List this past semester and my average almost hit a B+ so fucking close that the difference was only a decimal. I am not that grade conscious however, and I am quite contented with this result considering my lousy academic performance.

The next most exciting thing would probably be the semestral break because I've been inside my house a.k.a. modern warzone for three weeks and I only went out during Fridays for drinking trips and during the days allotted for school enrollment and enlistment. The most exhilarating saga of this vacation would be the daily bum routine of wake up - breakfast - Facebook - lunch -Facebook -dinner - Facebook - DotA until my eyes give out - sleep. This is masterfully executed almost every single day.

Aside from those, there are nothing more to tell because you've probably dozed your ass off to bed. Such stories could bore you to death, and being the main character in all those quite put me in the most optimistic state in life.

You can notice that most blog posts here are tagged as "awesome" because they really are, in the truest sense, the opposite actually, which ironically makes it awesome in the truthful sense, or whatever. Let's just say that the world is awesome because Discovery Channel says so. You're awesome too.

My 20th Year on Earth Begins

So, hello dear blog. It has been more than a month already since I posted an entry on your virtual memory. I have been "celebrating" my birth day today in the most fashionable way possible and towards the end of it, I thought that this wonderful day is something absolutely remarkable, and thus deserving of a blog post.

Of course, this is an extreme sarcasm. What can you do with an empty wallet and an empty family anyway? Besides, we've been in "The Octagon" the whole day (alluding to UFC).

Not to rant in a sense though, I honestly think that somehow, a supreme being or a prime cause omniscient watching over us likes to play games. I mean, he gives you this problem, followed by this, and another one, and another one over there, and additionally a consequent problem just there, and yet another endless chain of reactions - which sums up to him fucking you up. Goodness is indeed a gift possessed by the weak. The truth is, there's nothing sensible in attaining the general good; it's just a cover up of one's inability to cope up with reality.

This is an essential lesson I've learned for the past 19 years I have been existing in this happy happy god-forsaken land. It is a question if I should be living up to the ideals of goodness, or try lending an ear to the other side within. Oh wait, let me flip a coin.

Let's wait 'til it gets back. A bird called "Intellect" caught it up there.

Ultimatum, Probably

I'm quitting smoking. It was 11:11 pm of April 21, 2010 when I had my last stick of Marlboro Black Menthol at Encore a while ago. Of course, I smoke whenever I drink but I've finally decided, with all due determination, that I needed to stop the vice. Such a miserable effort, yes I know fellow mortal, but then I'll be doing this because I've seen beyond the smoke.

My stick, my treat. K?

Christmas

It's been a year since I established this blog site out of thoughts I couldn't classify as acceptable to my Multiply site. I actually enjoyed reading my posts here again and again, even if the real followers of this blog aren't more than 10 (well at least in my rough estimate).

Happy holidays to all Cheetos lovers out there!

Watch out!

Something's cooking

I Didn't Know That

Well here's something really cool. I once forged this thing called "heart" in the fires of enthusiasm and sincerity. It was powerful enough - being my own Excalibur to fend off impurities to the word "love." I tried to make that heart stand for true love.

Sometimes, you just lose the war.

It looks like this: this so-called heart I offered to that someone declined what I willingly gave her and she gave it back to me. So me, being dumbfounded at the time, thought that that heart would be of no use. Still, I kept it.

After several months of intense and rigorous analysis, I now conclude that this thing I worked hard for called "heart" is nothing but a stinky little piece of shit. So while I was walking home just this afternoon I threw it away. I don't know where it landed though but I hope it gets destroyed. I don't care now that it's out of me. At least I got one of my hands free.

Although I'm willing to forge another one, perhaps a stronger and more determined one, for a special someone, I'm afraid that I'd be deliberately wasting my time.

Now I know what this is: Bitterness. I should stop ranting, like, now? Yes. This ain't getting me anywhere and I'm simply igniting my own entropy.

Plan C

Well Plan B is already half-cooked but I think I'm going to be pitching in my indecisiveness en route to Plan C. Whatever these plans may be, I assure the 99% success of my methodologies.

The 1% is a bitch.

Shit Happens

Well technically before any major shit happens, there's usually a chain of minor shit occurrences that take place for quite some time. The bad thing with this shit minority is that you can't smell them coming. Heck, they're fucking everywhere but you just can't notice them - your sense data simply considers them as negligible.

And when the major shit is about to happen right in front of your shit-struck face, you go like "Oh motherfucker hell no this shit ain't happening." And then it happens. "Oh shit," that's what you usually tell yourself afterwards.

But there's this shit we usually term as supreme.

God, no. Save us.

Supreme Shit: You're dead.

Imagine though that I've been through one and I made it out barely alive. At least I am. And I'm telling you, you're not going to like it.

Haircut

I had one yesterday somewhere in Gateway. Oh yeah, Menage Salon! I remember. Oh well, I had to say good bye to long hair because I have to look decent at Jeimi's debut later.

It's just that, I kept the devil lock. Roll out motherfuckers. Lezzgo!