I’mma tell you something personal, so listen up.

JC: something personal.

lol, fucktard.



- o -



Last night, I was randomly looking through some files–things to sort, things to delete, more things to delete. Wicky’s struggling. He was hella crying at me one time because I just can’t seem to let go of my previous files, and it’s taking out about a good 280+gig in my drive. They’re movies you either claim you want to watch again, will watch, planning to watch but can’t always seem to have time and just want to see there in the downloads folder. Apart from that, I found old notes, from my–dig this, 6260 phone. About 3 phone changes from my current, and about 3 phone changes from the first one. Wow. I didn’t realize it was my “mid” phone.

I have a very degenerative neurological condition. It’s called over thinking. I’m a pathological over thinker. But when I can’t voice it out before, I usually have a phone with me, and I would find that, in a week, I would have literally dozens of bastard write-ups. Two sentences of twitter worthy quotes. About 3 paragraphs of rant. A page of literature. A quote heard. A song lyric. A good punchline. All of them complications running in my brain. Which is why–although a very nerdy gesture, I know–I whip out a phone in the middle of things because I write them down. And I analyze them again. And again. And again. And every time i read them, it’s almost like there’s a new story I get.

The problem is, this condition is also coupled by another lethal obsession–to collect useless things. So while my room is a plethora of absolutely useless junk, so is my notepad, phone and laptop littered with all these notes, saved sms, write ups. And so last night, I encountered them again, almost like greeting old friends which I felt embarrassed to admit I have forgotten about them, but they undeniably sound like my own. But despite the number of sad memories which emerged, I can’t deny I learned yet again, and was reminded of the number of fucked up things I used to do and thought of way back then.

I look today at my phone’s notes. I realized, for the past two months, I haven’t really been writing much at all. Am I already learning what I think I would keep in the long run, or am I simply too tired to over think lately?

Back when I couldn’t seem to go into my work mode, I would always write a little. Just something to keep my mind churning. Now that I have my own laptop around practically 14 hours a day and I could virtually save lots of word bastards which I’m sure my company won’t mind me having, I amazingly don’t have one. At all.

No, scrap that. Not amazing. I find it…rather odd. And sad.

Suppose, out of practicality, my mind is conserving itself? I feel so tired to imagine lately. Like I’m on an autopilot mode. I had a mid-year resolution to shut up which is working pretty well, but I didn’t realize that it MIGHT just affect my internal interpretations.

I’m just so worried that later on, my mind would start not to care thinking anymore.



- o -



If there’s just one, point-blank question that I would like to ask, it would be this:

How the fuck did you do it?

I want a minimum of 1000 words, single spaced, 10pt Arial condensed. To be submitted on Thursday, before 5pm. Late papers would be an automatic zero.



- o -



May quote akong nabasa mula dun sa mga naitabi ko na tinamaan ako ng sobra.

“We both know who should understand more.”

Hindi sa ayaw kong matuto. Hindi sa ayaw ko ng meron ako ngayon. Nahihirapan lang ako sa pagka counter-intuitive ng sitwasyon minsan. Nalilimutan kong dapat matagal nang kinakalimutan ang mga bunso complex. Panahon ko na. Tangina, antanda ko na, e.

Once, I wished I was just ordinary. That I would be a little predictable, easier to be with, and a little less awkward and annoying. Now that I realized I haven’t been thinking, I feel so plain without the goddamn emotional baggage.

Drama queen? *laughs*