Dear Brandon, I Love You Goodbye.

Annoying how my brother can play morning view to fungus amongus while I sit here typing my ass off. Hmf. Good job. :-|


So I survived another shift earlier. Due to the despicable dinner and the waaay too rich chocolate, here I am again with another run-through of things that transpired (or perceived) within the day.

• One man's meat is another man's poison.

In desperate attempts to make ends meet (and for my mother to not have an idea as to what I am doing), I had no choice to cancel my leave. For a concert date that took one whole summer in the making, canceling it the last minute is just pure bull. Pure bitter bull.

I wanted to prolong things a bit (like submitting the cancellation form midweek, duh) just to humor my sanity.

Until she came along and thanked me in advance.

A LatAm girl was thanking me, jumping with joy that I was about to cancel the 28th since her boyfriend surprised her with tickets to the concert and yet she didn't get to file a leave and couldn't swap as well. A million and one thank yous and a promise to tell me all about it made me sulk and had my heart go out to her.
My god Nikki, how does that feel now.

So there, one man's meat is another man's poison. In my case, it's my meat and my poison. :(

• The Grouch.

I am forced to wake up early in order to get stoned for three hours then kill myself for 8 hours more. Hello, hormones, hello grouchiness, hello hell. Go figure.

• I don't really know what's up with you.

For the nth time, I don't really get you. I know that I'll be the best among the rest but my god. I don't even know if I'll be flattered, annoyed, or just apathetic about it.

Treat me out to coffee. Let me be the judge.

(this is me half-bragging, half-confused about you.)



• If you get caught between the moon and Quezon City...

I am so hooked to the Christopher Cross classic. It had been playing in my head for the past month and couldn't stop me from singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing and singing...

(it will never stop, I swear.)

Come to think of it, I am still not over the so-called summer romance. How can I tell, easy. The first thing that pops into my mind when I wake up is still the last thing I think of when I go to bed. The number one person I want to hear from is still him. The phone's loaded for those little in cases. Wishing that he'd knock his head and remember that I'm still here for all the wrong and right reasons is still an open option.


Until you realize that only time can tell. :(

I love you, you mofo. If it takes tearing your curls off your head in order to get you back I've done it since the day aliens first abducted you.


Apparently, it isn't.