Sunburnt
by Boy Sunshine

I've been wanting to update the blog for the longest time, but it's either I don't have space in my schedule or I've forgotten what I have to say right after I've logged in.

Right now I'm thinking of running away. The 'relationship' with my Mom is getting that bad.

But I don't want to talk about that. What a beautiful day to waste on such a subject.

My face is still burnt from my most recent trip to La Union. Jace Parlan of UST, Andy's blockmate, had invited me to his eighteenth birthday at their house in San Fernando, La Union. This year alone, I had visited San Fernando twice: Halcyon's yearly La Union trips are also located at San Fernando. But this time around, I had a new crowd.

Truth be told, I've always felt out of place when I hang around with the Garcons de Industriel (Industrial Boys) but with great talent, they keep that away from me. I mean... Andy, alam na 'yan. But the rest?

KEVIN REYES is really fun to hang with, his sarcasms are well-played like an English man and his humor is in the same weird as my weird. He drinks, which means he's a good drunk to talk to. But like all of them, he doesn't smoke.

JOBERT GALLOS, is really quiet at times. But to justify that, well, he doesn't really need to many words to speak. For some reason, his lack of verbal expression is completely acceptable and he still maintains his comprehensive state.

CHESTER SANTOS is an oddity. He fits well in the Industrial line-up, but sometimes he tips off the edge and gets out of the line. I don't really understand him all that well because I can't see if he's sarcastic or not. And then he tells me that he smokes, subconsciously bragging it and then being modest about how seldom he uses it: I don't get you! He told me he smoked once or twice a month. If so, what the hell is that for? Obviously, the nicotine serves no purpose in his body system, there's no addiction to feed and the only reason nicotine enters his body is so that he could, from time to time, share his story and subconsciously brag and be modest about it.

DAVID GUTIERREZ
At the time I used to hang out at UST during my bum days, David was always away with his girlfriend. There was even a time when he stopped altogther. I remember him only as Balanar. During La Union, I found out how he can be funny by making fun of other people. Of course, while his words aren't directed to me, (while there's still some barrier respect) all I could do is laugh and enjoy the jokes.

MIKHAEL MOTUS
Is so vain!!! Hahaha, it's true. His vanity most often becomes the topic of the day, which then fills my tummy with laughter. He takes all of it like a good sport and for that he deserves respect. He's also a good boy scout... he never fails to bring everything that needs to be brought for his convenience. Disregarding the fact that he's a skilled artist... and his sense of humor.

CARLO RENIVA
Tangina, sayang walang si Carlo sa La Union trip. He's one of the Industrial Boys that I respect most because of his intellect. I'm not saying na walang intellect 'yung iba. Sinasabi ko lang na kay Carlo, I see a different level of intelligence. Tae... this may sound offending so I'll stop talking about it.

Codename: EGOY
Well, Egoy is Egoy. I hear all sorts of things about him, which I won't talk about it here. But to me, he's a DotA player that's easy to order around.

PAUL TITZ
Titz is one of the first giants I ever knew. No matter how fucked up his educational life is right now, I will never forget how much I enjoyed that one game we both played at DynaQuest - even if we lost. His addiction to the game will one day bring him to his demise... or has it already taken him there? Good luck, Titz, may utang ka pa sa'kin.

VIEN CANLAS
What a small world, ka-kilala niya pala si Kino. Ehh idol ko pa man 'din si Kino sa Narutimate!!! Hahaha... One day, you will be understood.

JACE PARLAN
The one with the strange accent. Back in your first year, Andy used to say so many things about you... you were among the stars in Andy's tabloids. And I have to reassure you, none of the things he said were flattering. But during the second year, you kind of took the low road... and I haven't heard from you for a long time, but I still appreciate the four CD's you lent me to install my SIMS. Then you invite me to La Union from out of the blue: Huwaw!


After this, I don't know any more Industrial Boys... because they don't come out. I remember Eran, astig 'din 'yun. Salamat sa party dati ah! Nasarapan ako 'dun.


The whole time I was at La Union, only one song kept playing in my head. As the waves crashed into my face and saltwater entered me through my nose, I could only sing one tune. From Regina Spektor's On the Radio, I recited these lines endlessly:

Four stars 'tong trip na 'to. It's been a long time since I enjoyed so much. Four stars lang kasi pinauwi ako ng maaga eh! And on the way back, the only song that sang itself in my mind was "Sunburnt". My whole body was aching from every single small movement.

"There he goes... sunburn!"

2:41 PM;

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Crazy Peepel
by Boy Sunshine


I don't really know what to do when luxury offers itself in front of you. And for the past few years, I've been the type to grab it, regardless of what people said around me.

Lately, I've been extra insecure, due to my friend's constant rambling about how braggy I was unconsciously being. Ariz, you suck.

So anyways, I finally got here at Dubai where I was again, greeted by the Indian scent. I missed this scent. Back in the days when I resided in Fiji, I'd always smell it when I enter indian business shops. From laser disc rentals (for that was the best quality then), to barbershops. It's crazy. And because of those memories, the incense lingering in my nostrils triggered an inevitable nostalgic fever.

Before I let that get into me, I ran along, prancing about the place, trying ever-so-hard to find the best bargains the city had to offer, just like any regular tourist around the place. Dubai is extremely populated with people of different cultures. It didn't come as a surprise for me because I had been in a country with such ethnic variety. The only thing that was new to me was the pink Innova cars waited on by women dressed in pink arabic attire: The Lady Taxi. It was really cute. Haha. The taxi meters were absurdly advanced in terms of technology compared to my struggling country's. No offense to all my patriotic kin, but Dubai was such a beautiful place to reject having a residence in. (Not that I've been offered any of the kind, after all, my Visa only ran valid for twenty-seven more days.)

As I enter these words into the computer now, I witness the vast array of women from different cultures, coming into the Hotel front door, heading to the club they called Bollywood. Being a person of the non-club type, I preferred to waste my money in the familiar aroma of the internet.

Honestly, my stupidity got the better of me tonight. As I headed to the computer rentals at the hall of the dining kind, I had ordered a little something from the waiter to satisfy my little appetite as I went through a half-hour's worth of surfing. I had expected that a couple of people I know who regularly log on at this time of the hour would actually be online for me to chat with. It turns out that none of them were here, and those visible in my list were people snoozing in their beds. And so, with that finally figured out, I awaited my meal (which turned out to be really big for my liking) and I have to stay here, sitting on a tall stool which rendered my spine a bit troubled, for the remainder of my rental time, to prevent a sense of being a fool.

On the bright side, I thought this would be the perfect time to write into my blog. I was afraid that after more than twenty four hours, cobwebs might actually start appearing.

Earlier today, about nineteen hours ago, I had received my first electronic gadget from my Mom. Rumor had it that electronics were cheap in Dubai and my mother, being the bargain-queen and being an abusive shopper, did not hesitate to make the most of it. Luckily on my part, the things she eyed for the things of my desire. Illuminating my first paragraph, I had decided not to list down all the things (I had only in my dreams) she had given me today, and instead, talk about only one of them.

iPod was what every mediocre desired in the Philippines. For some reason, owning one was the schiznit. It gave you a sense of security in possessions, and thus, heightened your self-esteem. Every music-lover wanted only one thing in their lives: iPod. (Of course, this is all an opinion)

(Reaching into my meal for the first time, I realize that it really was BIG!)

Strolling at one of the renowned cheap electronic place, my fingers found their way around a Creative: Zen. It's like an iPod but a little bit thicker, a little bit bigger, and a whole bit foreign. Only a handful of people actually know about this thing. And that includes those who check up on electronic gadgets and the regular couch potatoes who see it on commercials. (Does it have a commercial?)

Seeing as how I've always hated to be a conformist, I decided, picking a different one with the same functions was a good alternative. So, with my mother's gracious wallet, the Zen became mine. And only after five minutes, I had given it to her. "I'll check to see if they have iPod by tomorrow." I said, thinking that since few people had Zen, few people could lend me a charger if I needed one. (Actually, none at all.)

I went to the internet later that afternoon (which is about night time in the Philippines) and told Andy all about it. He said he had heard of it and seen of it and had suggested that I rather keep the one I had given my mother rather than buy another iPod. For a few minutes there, I actually admired Andy in a different light. He talked me into it way better than the salesman at the place I was looking at it. And Andy wasn't getting paid and wasn't even enthused to persuade me at any level. His dream of opening a music shop might actually be a good idea. Despite his skillful hands, he might actually have what it takes to whip up a beautiful sales talk.

(The burger is actually quite good. The presentation and the garnish, magnifique! I just wish I had the appetite.)

It's really boring having no one to talk to right now. I had expected that someone would come along, but blogging really does make time fly fast. Or is it just me?

I also spoke with Rafael again. He's in some sort of twisted dilemma and since he isn't really spilling the beans, I could only do so much to help him out. Recently, I've urged him repetitively to make a blog. It would be such a beautiful and meaningful blog that I'd be a very busy reader. But he insists that he isn't very much interested. And I'm still in the process of persuading him, but my convincing powers seem to be having a vacation while I'm here in Dubai.

Surprise!
The last time Andy read me poetry (not directed to me!) was on the phone about four years ago. He said it had been something he made. I'm not sure if he was kidding me. Back then, I half-thought it was the lyrics to a Final Fantasy song I didn't know.

Earlier today, he had given me an excerpt from his latest piece. Andy's slowly being a poet. Slowly but surely, I'm sure he's becoming a really well-raised man despite the absence of his father. For so many reasons, I'm really starting to idolize him. It's weird. He's been nothing but a best friend to me, if not a brother yet. And me starting to idolize him right now? It's crazy!

Crazy peepel! (says the Lady Taxi Driver as a car cut her off)

9:38 AM;

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Bonobo sang the song Recurring.

Not necessarily telling you to hear it. I just thought you might like to know. The song helps me soothe my emotions, helps me calm my nerves and helps me free my mind.


There is no word of wisdom in this entry
There is, however, an update to my life. Would you find that intruiging? There is no absolute answer. But read anyway, it might help you learn better of me.

Here are the days when I speak not in normal english. A new persona wakes from me. A new language is spoken. The words are no longer in order as I would write them. Another entity takes hold of my fingers.

I've just noticed how I'm slowly getting fed up with my life again. The same as it was last year.

I can't type with people watching. And there are people watching. This entry is yet to be made.

8:56 AM;

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Children

In the eyes of a child, no matter how sucky a day may be, a chocolate bar from Mommy would make it all better. Going through hardships like visiting the dentist could be easily turned to happiness once Daddy explains that you're gonna get an ice cream later on.

Children are so innocent. They're so ignorant about the world. And because they don't know much about the world, they don't have much to worry about. They don't have to think about what's gonna be on the dining table next week. They don't think about how much the electricity bills are for this month or if they need to save or if they need to stop playing water guns to save water. They're so innocent. It makes me want to return back in the days...

Do you remember the time when you did nothing but stay at home and watch TV as you feel the breeze of the electric fan sweeping through the living room, and you grabbed your sword and you asked your brother if you could play pretend swordfight? The only danger is that the sword may poke you in the eye, and then you'd be in great pain. Then you'd cry.

I think I'd rather cry freely than keep the pain inside. It's not like now that we're all grown up. And especially male. Guys don't cry. Maybe silent cries, but never evident enough. If we get teary, we're so ashamed of it. We try our best to be so numb to emotions, when all along, when we're all alone, it comes back.

That's it to children. After crying, after you've grown tired of waiting for someone's pity, you'd slowly realize there's no use wasting tears anymore. In fact, you have to save it because you might run out next time. I know that it's impossible, but they don't know that. I don't think you did too back then. Everything was so simple. Everything was so great.

I was a know-it-all when I was a kid. I now see how sucky I'd been to all my friends. Who wants a know-it-all? Even if you are telling the truth, the children have their own little perspectives. Don't push the truth. Stop telling them there isn't a Santa Claus, because they swear they saw someone moving that night on the Eve of Christmas. They swear it was Santa's handwriting written on their giftboxes and their parents personally saw Santa with their own eyes and thanked him for being so generous and for accepting them in the NICE list.

Santa is real.

One more thing I love about children is that they're so polite. They have all the qualities in them. Remember how some philosophy tells us that we're born with such great qualities and that the only reason they disappear is because we lose them as we grow old? There may be partial truth in that. And since when you were younger, and you had all those qualities with you, wouldn't it be much better off to stay in that age?

Moral development: you need to lose some of those qualities in order to mature and then find use for them later.

Vini Robes, the youngest DotA player I know.
We were playing last Saturday and he was trying this online game called o2jam in which I'd been one of the greatest at Pipeline. I was making a suggestion about how he could play it better and he ignored me for the next ten minutes. On the eleventh minute, (I guess) he finally tried the suggestion and as I smoked outside Pipeline, he went through the door smiling and said: "Thanks" He was happy with the outcome.

See what I mean? They're so polite.

You don't see people doing that nowadays. They're much too concerned with how the other people might react. I like how I know I've helped people. When they say "Thanks" it means alot. So you guys... you adults. Why don't we say "Thanks" more often than we say "Shit" and "Fuck" and all the other crazy things we've learned from peers?

Shit, I wanna be a kid again.

7:39 AM;

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SECOND WEEKEND OF OKTOBAH

I usually write in this blog whenever strong emotions engulf my ego, but right now, I can't say I can feel anything strong at all. In fact, I'm actually numb right now. So... what I'm going to do is, just talk and share another bunch of my realizations.

Number One: My Music

Why is it that only few people enjoy the wordless songs that I play in the car? You know what I mean. The songs that don't have lyrics. Purely instrumental. One of the greatest sample is : Navras by Juno Reactor which was played official soundtrack to the Matrix Revolutions. Music like that helps me chill. And so far, only Michael (Vinz) and Ariz share the passion to it.

Well, when I was driving down to Pipeline this afternoon, a song played in my car. The Sunshine Underground by The Chemical Brothers. They're quite famous. While I was playing it I remembered how JC would switch it to the next song if he was in the car. Then I realized the reason for it. The reason is simple. JC is almost always aggravated. He's tense and short-tempered, he's hot-headed and very temperamental. I don't think it's appropriate to call it mood swing anymore, because all his mood swings lead to anger. He get's into a bitch fit very easily.

And that is exactly why he can't learn to appreciate the goodness of chill out music. Sure he might like the likes of club music like Sunset Daze's Selfish or Kaskade's It's me, It's you. But he would never learn to appreciate those without words that take too long to express climax.

The secret to loving music is to dig deep within the sounds of the instruments being played. To hear its tone and its beat and the harmony when the instruments intertwine to form ethereal vines of magical tunes. It's not crazy, that's exactly how I view music when I visualize it.

So, in order to do that... in order to hear the music in its entirety, you have to relax. You have to forget all your worries and pretend, just for five minutes, that nothing else matters but the sound of the music. From then on, when you're not thinking of any problems, when your mind is free, nothing would truly matter but the succession of the beats and the music itself. And then, the music will grab hold of your emotion and play with it. You can do nothing but go with it... go with the flow, ride on the raft through the river. Know what I mean?

And JC, he can't do that. The simplest sentence to explain it right now is this: He can't learn to relax. This isn't a bad thing per se, I mean, who gives? I'm not saying he sucks for it. I'm just explaining how it is. That's my realization. Applied to me, it makes perfect sense. I'm always relaxed even if I really have to be panicky.

Ariz and Michael, they share the same trait. Ariz is so easy-going. Michael is such a fun type of person. It all makes sense! I feel like I've broken down some sort of Psychological barrier here. I figured it out all by myself! Woohoo! Champagne for the wise guy!


Number Two: My Halcyon

Now I know why I was so disappointed with all of you. Now I know why we only feel the sense of Halcyon when we're together. Now, I finally know why you don't care about it as much as I do. And the answer is simple. (again)

We all have a very different evaluation of Halcyon. To you... to most of you... it is a circle of friends. Hanging out and having fun together when there isn't much to do around the house or with your family.
And to me, or to a minority of you, it is life.

I never had a set of friends as intense as this. When I was little, I always moved around and I never had a solid set of friends for more than two years. Even if I did, it would only consist of three inviduals, not a whole set like we have now.
The reason why I'm so clingy and possessive is because you guys are what I consider my family. You are the family I never had. You are the brothers and sisters I only had when I was dreaming. And whenever I'm in those dreams, it's always Paradise. Do you know what I mean?

I see a parallelism with my blood relatives right now. (you know? my real family)
I treat them the way I should be treating you, and I treat you the way I should be treating them. Normally, you'd jump in front of a bullet for your mother. While I'd jump in front of a bullet for anyone, I think I'd be happier to do it for any one of the Halcyon members other than my brother.

Don't get it twisted. I love my brother. He's like a father figure to me. But... Okay, this is turning out to be a very bad example. I'll make another one.

Do you know the constellation of Libra? If Halcyon was placed on one side of the balance and my family on the other, to my judgment, the Halcyon's side would weigh more. Not because there are more of you, but because you're more matimbang. My Bessy sits on Libra's head. She owns the damn thing.

That's the whole truth of it.
I know I'm a worthless son and a pesky little brother, but I hope I haven't soiled my reputation for being a proud member of Halcyon. For goodness' sake, I'm one of the forefathers. I founded Halcyon! So... yeah. With every realization, I understand why I just can't let go.

4:08 AM;

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The Fall of Lucy

The eve of October 12, the day before the forsaken Friday the 13th, Lucy has fallen.

1:35 AM
In the forbidden shop of Pipeline

After much deliberation on everything I said in the last post (just a couple of hours back) I am now stable and I'm making a much needed announcement to the world at large. Basically, it just means that I'm going to let it all out.

FUCK the FALL OF LUCY
The fall of my ego, of my prowess, of my strength
I've become nothing more than that which I've always tried to avoid
I've become the weak entity I always kept inside

MARTYRDOM
You probably don't know what that means. That maybe because you've never experienced doing such a thing. Being a martyr is something the old Lucian has been so profound of becoming. I give without expecting anything in return. I give so much that I thought it makes me happy. Guess what? It doesn't. It didn't. I don't think it will be now... not now anyway, now that Lucy has fallen.

I watched a movie yesterday, I don't recall the title. I'm not sure that it's a movie, I think it's a television drama or something. What matters are the lines I heard from that show: "Tanga lang ang nagpapaka-martyr."

AMEN TO THAT!

So, right this moment, with the fall of Lucy, the martyrdom will be long gone. I don't give a shit about all you people anymore. You don't like that? Sue me. Suck this: 8==D I don't care. Who the hell are you anyway? In my life, nothing matters but me. I don't care what all other people might think. Who gives a damn? No more weakling.

Madonna said in her song: I Love New York:
"If you don't like my attitude, you can F off."
F is short for FUCK if you're slow witted.
That's my philosophy right now. I'm hot headed. I've lost all temper. I've lost all sanity. she also said:
"If you can't stand the heat, get off my feet."
Again... if you're dumb and you need a little translation for that, it simply means, get away from me if you don't have patience to be around me. Coz in this moment, upon my new realization in life, I can't be the one adjusting anymore. For once, YOU GUYS find the time to adjust to me. I've lived my life trying to please you. (everyone) It's my time to please myself.

So who am I really mad with? Me? I guess.

MAD WITH MYSELF
Angry, pissed and fucked off
I'm angry with myself for being such a softy these past couple of years. I thought that being such a good guy would get me somewhere. But then again, look at where it got Millhouse™! (The Simpsons™) Look at where it got Hinata™ (Naruto™ series), look at where it got Yoda™!

I'm mad with myself because I've been that way for too long. Now that I know it's not getting me anywhere, I might as well be anything else! I've tried to be kind to everyone because I believed in the shitness of Karma. The definition of Karma Alicia Keys™ wanted to tell us all: What goes around comes around, what goes up must come down. Well that shit ain't working around me. I've had goodness all around me and I'm not so happy about it.

HALCYON
You really disappoint me. You make me wanna puke. All that is just a front. Halcyon page. Halcyon multiply account. Halcyon my ass. We're only friends during Aprils and Mays. What the fuck would happen if it weren't April or May?! What if those two months were suddenly taken away from us? Oh wait... 'us' ain't applicable no more. 'Us' disappeared just a while back. It's just me and you now. Me and any single one of you I might appear next to.

It's called depression, my friends. Depression makes people like me say things like this. I never, in my life, thought I'd get here myself. I always thought I'd be happy. but now, when all the little things stay hidden in the subconscious, it builds up and before you know it, they've become greater than Titans. And my patience can't handle them anymore. My patience wears thin, thinner than hair. My patience is like the wheel to a car in Japan that's been drifted nonstop without repair for the past years. My patience is no more.

IT IS A PHASE
Just a phase as I'd love to believe. But then again, I also loved to believe back then that you were the family I never had. No one can tell for sure if this will remain a phase or if it will progress. And so, as last act of my martyrdom, I'm going to seek professional help from, who? I'll find myself a professional.

I can't deal with it by talking to you. How can I? Will I even try? I don't know. My only release now is to get pissed. Divert the sorrow into anger. It's helped me in the past. I'll try it again. Who knows, I might even get better this way. I might kill the softy inside of me and proceed to the greater ego: the superego as they say - Lucian.

SO DON'T CALL ME LUCY EVER AGAIN
I'm so freaking tired of it. I'm so pissed. I'm wearing off every single day of my life. I can't trust the people around me. I can't even trust myself tonight. Every bedtime, I find it hard to sleep. Why is that? The problems are haunting me. These dilemmas. They're way too much a burden to keep up with anymore. It's not like chain mails you receive from ignorant friends. They're chain mails that open themselves up and crawl from your computer screens and strangle your neck 'til you could barely breathe to shout out that you need help. Then they disappear only to reappear when you're about to sleep and wake you up with bloodshoot red eyes screaming pains of agony and distress and misery and everything that is shitty... try that!

10:52 AM;

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I'm very much confused with myself right now. So much that "Confusion" should be the title to this entry much more than any other word.

But doing so would only make it harder for me to describe exactly everything that I'm going through. Which brings me back...

I'm very much confused.

For me to tell you exactly how I feel, I should tell you everything I want right this moment:

I want to be in sessions with a psychiatrist
I want to solve every mystery in my life
I want to stop being a martyr
I want to stop studying
I want to be in a monastery
I want to be killed to be reborn again

I want all of this but it's so hard to achieve

My body aches so much that it affects my thinking. My body aches in so many different parts and I don't know how to deal with it. In accordance, my head is going nuts and my brain practically has forgotten its true function.

I want to stop studying but I know I'd be wasting my mother's hard earned money. I want to give her something in return so that she could be happy, or at the least, a bit satisfied with what he children are doing her while she's working hard overseas. But I can't repay her a single thing. I'm having trouble facing every day life. All my problems have stacked up and now they've magnified to a certain point that my patience could no longer handle them.

My days as a martyr have finally ended. I'm no longer the smooth talking, easy going Lucian. If I hate you, I'll make sure that you know about it. I'm no longer capable of keeping my problems to myself. If I think the world sucks, my words act as broadcast signals sweeping the whole nation around me. I suck. I hate what I'm slowly becoming. I hate what I presently am.

But there's nothing to do about it. No help will come my way. No family. No friends. No professional help. No one at all. No prayers, no Gods, no beliefs, no alcohol, no food of pleasure, no nothing...

I've become paranoid of the people around me. The ones closest to me, my Halcyon, the people I believed to be the family I never had, they've deserted me at my moment of despair. It may be my fault that I'm not telling them anything about this. But I'm not telling them because they're the main problem. I guess, I really have to let them know that I'm having mental dysfunction whenever they cross my mind. It's just that I think they're fronting the friendship, they don't really care much about it. We talk only when we see each other. There's no initial move. There's no phonecall.

I'm not demanding. I'm rather pissed. I'm in need. I'm not demanding.
Who'd know what happens next? NOT GOD. Not me. I have to make decisions that would determine my future. But how can I make any single decision with this dilemma at hand? What cure is there? What madness is this? What hope is left? What must I do?

I'm slowly being crushed by a force I've thought I've long destroyed. It seems that when you keep the problems to yourself, and when you let solitude and time handle it, it never really gets healed: it just worsens. And before it's too late, you'll realize your ass hurts and the force or the person who kicked it is long gone.

6:06 AM;

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Great weekend
I say that almost all the time
But this week's really great

And although it's only Wednesday, I've considered it an early weekend as well. I went to Cebu, then to Bohol where I had real fun at the snorkeling site at a faraway island 40 minutes off Tagbiliran. Then I caught a blue starfish, a real starfish, not Ariz's ass. Then I went back again to Cebu to meet my grandma who I haven't seen for 8 years now. The term ended with the POLIGOV test earlier today at 1:30 PM and my Mom left for Angola again so I pretty much have no commitment anymore. I feel that I'm gonna be real relaxed in these couple of days.

It's also JT's birthday today, but how's that any different from any other day? I mean, there's food in their house way up in the mountain, but then again, right under Pipeline are lots of other foods. Sure it costs, but so does gas, and I'm gonna be spending lots of gas going to and coming from the Tinsay residence, so I might as well stick with hunger rather than spend my money.
I'm saving so much of it, (or I think I better start to) because my pals and I are going to have this Luzon trip this coming summer. We have to get some cash in to be prepared for it. Mom's financing us with twenty five thousand more or less, and I'm planning to make a documentary out of it. Damn, I'm already excited, I don't want to talk about it anymore.

Right now, I really feel like I should take a dump or something. I'll be shitting my seat in a few if I don't get back home as soon as I can, but something's telling me not to go home yet so I have to keep it in for a little while more. RECTUM POWER! Okay, now I'm just blabbering. I can't help it, it's been a while since I wrote here. And thinking of that, I just realized that I've never heard of Rectum Power in my whole life.

I got no cellphone now. It's with Ariz at the moment, considered collateral for the money he lent me last night. I'm supposed to go there tonight to pay him back, but the problem is, I don't know how to tell him that I'm coming. Last night, I really had to pee, and my mind was telling me that I'm going to text him to get the phone back. Only now... now that I don't have the phone, how the hell am I going to text him? Stupid fool... And there's no one here at Pipeline but Chini, the owner's son. It's pretty much a weekend to celebrate on my own. Because that's exactly what it is at the moment, I'm probably the only one within 5 kilometers radius to consider this a 'weekend'. And with that, I'd have to suffer the consequence of enjoying it in solitude.

Or I could go home and cuddle my cat and have fun for at least 2 minutes as I wonder in awe of their poise and their fur and stuff like that.

Man, I really want company right now. I wonder where they all are. Andy's supposed to be here... why isn't he? His classes reportedly ended around 5pm and now, it's 8:15. Well, I'm not really rooting for him to come, I mean, I'd have to bring him home because he probably expects me to.

Uhm... just get this thing done with!
See you later when I feel like blogging again.

(Lu, who you talkin' to?)
> THE BLOG, idiot!

5:16 AM;

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