This is it. I�ve made my move official.

From now on, there shall be no jaixe.compactvision.net/index.php. From now on, blackmoon.8m.com is back.

Well, it�s not like I have a choice. (turns around and silently wipes a tear brimming in the eye. Ahahaha.) My server absolutely regurgitated me. For some unknown reasons I cannot comprehend, the server I so praised actually failed me, and let me perish into my own self-combustion over melancholy fires without even so much as a notice. Motherfucking compactvision. Not even a note, not even an email! How hard can a *%@#$%@# note saying �JC, we fucking hate your fucking crappy work, you even had to use Nucleus to propagate your absolute senseless inanitites, and you even had to make damay(ay, co�o daw. He he) our name every time you give out your website address (an address we absolutely loathe, by the way. I mean, what in fucking crappy hell is �jaixe� anyway?). We are not proud of having you under our jurisdiction, so there, you�re fucking off.� HOW CAN THAT BE HARD?!?

But it�s over. Things are done and terminated, therefore, the only thing left to do is to do some action and let not procrastination dominate me again.

So here, ladies and gentlemen, my move back to my original server is now evident. I never deserted it anyway, since I have used the forward-to-address meta tags (which is why you guys are forwarded to that old server), but now, I�m using the front index page as the main server, plus an inline frame using my blogger account. My layout�s still the same, mainly because the next layout will be black-dominated too, so what�s the use? It�s not like there are much changes anyway. My LJ account by the way will still be an LJ account; I�m not going to forward anything there anymore, but I�m still going to update it in case blogspot has its glitches, so if you wish to bookmark it, you may do so. Oh, what, you didn�t get my LJ address? Well too bad for you. *laughs*

So now we have an angst-free (hah! You wish) newly transferred blackmoon.8m.com. I honestly don�t care if I have to change servers, you might think I�m sour-graping or something. Well, so, okay, I�m a bit disgruntled, but it�s mainly because of the point I told you guys earlier, as well as…well, people tend to be a bit sentimental sometimes, and I�m only human: I did not get to have a copy of my past blogs. I mean, come on�for what, four months (since October, I started at that month I think?) a lot of things happened�a lot of things I wasn�t able to tell souls close to me yet I can free out all into cyberspace were freed; cryptic things that needed to be cryptic on purpose were told; and lines and ways crossed because of that blog. People I cherished made marks on that blog, and I didn�t even get a copy of it. It�s like, it was a wedding that occurred for four months, bluntly making love with ideas, doing foreplay with people online, and you don�t even get to have a souvenir album. Goddarn it.

That left me a lesson, though: if a server�s free, there�s got to be a catch. Unless of course it�s something you�ve already trusted and tested, not only by you but also by millions of people around the world.

So now, on to our regular programming.

*kssssshhhhttt!!*

school girl�s back.

Come on, the fun never stops unless you let it do so. So to keep things stirring, your resident we-rarely-see-you-in-palda blogger here went to school one Wednesday in wearing a school girl attire, a la Gogo Yubari, only more subtle. I once again elicited whispers, praises, banters, and whatevers. Woohoo.

Only setback? One time Jay-e and I went out of the school realms for the usual yosi break, he remembered he left his phone with a classmate of ours that we had to dash back…only to be halted by manong guard.

Guard: Ne, saan ang punta mo? (Kid, where are you going?)
JC: Ho? (Pardon?)
Guard: Sa admissions ka ba? (Are you heading to the admissions office?)
JC: Ano ka ba naman, manong. Kakalabas lang namin eh, sisitahin mo ako? (Come on, Sir. We just came out, now you�re going to question us?)
Guard: Patingin nga ID? (May I see your ID then?)

I motion to my already pinned ID on my skirt. He tells me to take it off.

Guard: (while squinting at my ID) Sigurado ka, ha? *grins* (Are you sure?)
JC: (irritated, but somewhat charmed) Oo! (Hell, yeah!) *grabs the Id and rushes inside*

Did I really look like a freaking high school student?

Woohoo!!

What I don’t get…

With all the Valentines Day issue coming up, I can’t seem to get over this one thought…

Why is it, that when two people get on some level that they desire, they suddenly forget what they were before and they become something…

weird?

I mean, if two acidic people–personality wise, that is—live on banters and other stuff, suddenly get it on, they suddenly become soooo sickeningly sweet that it’s almost as if they forgot how it was like to be normal–the common wise-ass people they used to be?

Oh, or maybe it’s only applicable to me. Ahehe.

I dunno. Twice. I never really got it back to “what we were before,” which is honestly better. I mean, I don’t want a go-fetch-the-bone type that they automatically turn into because it’s like as if they’re compelled to be like that. If you’re not sweet, if you’re not typically like that, just don’t be. Anyway, I liked you for the sarcasm in you, and not the sarcasm you’re trying to cover because tayo ay “tayo.” Or something to that effect.

Moving on…

payback time?

Those who constantly read my blog since way before would remember Mark from the lamentation I had on earlier; I did an intro regarding a �love lost� issue that even if we were treading on rough waters I automatically looked for him when I had trouble accepting my brother�s wedding (yes, the fucking melodrama. Good for you people that didn�t get to read it. ). Anyway, he�s back, well, at least through text. I missed that bloke, so I met up with Mark after school last friday, despite the wishes of the loser asswipe (I�ve been revising the names I�ve been calling him, depending on what I fancy and what occurred between us, so right now he�s just loser asswipe, heh heh). Come on, I mean, it was just a catching up on whatever thing, and I somewhat missed the guy anyway. We talked about a lot of things over dinner, and he kept on kidding about how long my hair have grown, since the last time he remembered me, they were still up in spikes.

The notable thing I�ve noticed, though, was that over dinner, I looked at him in the eye, without him realizing I was already analyzing a lot of things. Well, for one thing, he was the same guy I thought I loved: the same eyes, the same laugh, the same stories only revised… but it just wasn�t the same. It�s like me looking at a Kenny Rogers restaurant or something: it has always been there, but I suddenly have a different taste for it or something. Looking deep at his eyes, I realized, I couldn�t fish anything out of me. So cartoonish, in fact, that I imagined a yellowish Mr-Bogus type of hand trying to search my heart, looking for something but couldn�t find anything, then decides to slap my face instead for even attempting to make it look for something.

For the span of what, two years?

I suppose love is exactly just what it really is, or what I envisioned it to be: love�s just so fucking brainwashable. If you brainwash your brain that you think that guy�s for you, your brain processes it and makes your whole body believe it. If you tell your brain you don�t love anyone anymore, your body depicts it.

What happened to the heart? Oh, it just pumps blood, like always. It has nothing to do with the process.

What I couldn�t figure out, though, is what made ME decide it was enough. The fact that it wasn�t feasible anymore? Or the fact that there�s the probability of a someone else, that I have gone over the act of pacifying my ego?

Oh, but my ego�s already way too pacified. That Friday, I left him knowing he was stupid for being stupid, now he�s stuck into something he couldn�t get out of. He told me he still loves me. Fine. Go ahead, Mark, keep on telling yourself that. Because the bitch that I am won�t concede into letting you have back what you were stupid to lose. Anyway, I don�t have plans of ruining relationships, much less a family. Stick to her, idiot. I have no plans of hurting HER.

Plan A�s been executed smoothly: I made him realize the things I needed him to realize. He�s hurting now. On to Plan B.

But what IS Plan B?

I honestly don�t know. I�m a bitch alright, but I realized I�ve hurt way too many people, in the span of only three months. It�s time to take a break.

But he�s still hanging. Oh, hell, so what. Let him hang. With no further justifications why.

High Fidelity

Not too creative title there, anyway, I just want to thank the asswipe for lending me his copy of High Fidelity. The lucky bastard. I can�t believe he found a copy of that book, which he only bought for 50 pesos.

I don�t want to buy a new one, I�m not into buying new books if I can get it super cheap-o anyway, I mean, I�m after the content, not the fucking cover. Once I bought a Shakespeare book for only two pesos. Yes, as in two pesos. The price of three candies from your suking tindahan. It�s from National bookstore, and the cover�s ripped, but I don�t mind. Anyway, I�ve been estimating how much I�m going to pay if ever I came to like the asswipe�s book (in all probability anyway, I�m sure I will) and have it photocopied. 323 pages, divided by 2, times .50 (or if there are 40 centavo Xerox centers around, that can also be an option), =80.75. The original copy is even cheaper. Bah, I hate the world.

But I like that book, honestly. It�s a guy thing, but I can actually relate to it. heheh.

Bdays galore and Reco up ahead

It�s my mom�s birthday. That�s all. *laughs*

Well, you guys can be extra sweet and drop by happy birthday messages for some unknown blogger�s mom, I�ll just say it came from people from the cyberspace. Cool. Heheh.

Oh, I realized we have a recollection tomorrow, over at Tagaytay, I think, so I have to go to sleep early. Every year we used to do it at Batangas, and it�s an overnight thing, but because of some stupid kids jumping on each other�s bone last year, they made our recollection a one-day only affair, the bus leaving DLSU-D at 6:30 am. Gawd. Absolutely stupid kids, now we have to pay. I mean, if they�re going to jump on each other�s bone just fucking go to a motel. At least there would be no sisters in white to terrify them and hinder their orgasms every minute.

Till next post, then. Bye, people.