The Unnecessary ONE.

people say sticky mouths call for indigestion. and late night snacks are for thin ass-es. i agree with both. people must be real smart to come up with these statements, huh? good for the people.
but what aches this space is how I seem to forget, myself, that as great as the stx come and go, and as tasty as the cinnamon smell, it gorges right in. it slips you mind, and it binges you in. which of course, uses all the wrong words.
the camera calls for some weird, out-of-nature callings. and what could my activity tomorrow be? i certainly hope it would be an eventful one, or else i will be, so vvery, PISSED.

When this world collides.

Ah. When it happens.





First off, im going to thank everyone and anyone who came out to celebrate my birthday. i know. there's a reason why well wishers wish you a HAPPY birthday, coz it's so seldom that one's happy on their b'day. Anyway, it was really nice to be hanging with some of the people i just Love. so, a few people said calling it nice was really more insult-ish. but im calm, and im still hatin the world. so i guess it made my day :)

what's shocking is that piece of news i got yesterday. i totally went OMFG. so unlike me-hhaha. but it wasn't much big a deal, only i think it's intoxicating to be in the same sky-roof with these beastly creatures. i need my punch.

yes, no more n-l-m for me. as far as i can tell, it's been going pretty awesome, so unless another major disaster strikes, i'll be good as an elf.

should this be here?

i've been a strict follower of the unnecessary poultry-free lifestyle for two years now. But, i'm questioning now: What is the point? As tis the season for vacationing and the turkey's been laid, i'm setting my sights from a view away, to a graduation. It is unfair for a person to listen to the kicks and spare the poor. what use is that, i ask. and i was beaten for it.
What ville tried to imply was, he did not kill loneliness for a girl. he was too subtle when he called milly a whore. when her actual lilly could just smile at the though of a million fangirls and fanboys humming and vibrating out of key to her name. it just strikes me as one of those things where you near the day of doom. it bears no resemblance to anybody, and yet it is the worst one can get.
should i still censor the starting of a war? apparently the need is no longer. as i let go of my petty pundits, and kill some birds instead. so if i stay a stupid spoiled whore, i will just keep the oranges for company. and forget the honeydew, ocasionally chukling at the disgust and thought. when you are no longer the pioneer, you have no need to sit.

Here's another speech you wished I'd swallow

so, the manhood returns. and dirty talk ensued. what fascinates most is the recognition of power over stick figures. did i just dirt off my shoulder? for watever reasons, they could be fatal. why does one eat, for the sake of eating? if one cannot taste the luxury of taste, then what point is there, to live?

If you have a thought hovering in your mind, it is coming from the subconscious part of your memory. If you don't feel at home in your own home, it's Beyonce telling you that. and If your shoe label doesn't have an apostrophe, who cares?

People are vulgar, not only are they strange, they are vain. and vanity kills. Lord of the Flies is a horror story about how beastly man can be. But, of course, we already know that, don't we? The bell jar is screaming to be heard.
the philosophical angles of life is far too depressing for me to be doing nothing rite now and yet, I am. Our own desire kills us. we keep blowing the bubble and live inside it, all the while still trying to make it bigger, and then eventually it bursts. ..we blame it on others. because who else have we got?

and so it ends.

Yeah. how could I have fallen for crap. This is nth. I am merely a conquest. This sucks. I shouldn't have turned my back on everyone I love and go all out and gave my firsts to a lame-ass toodler.

What. a. big. joke.

and I was just there to fill in the time. and for him 2 brag abt. never trust a fellow. who is untrustable. trust your gut. it's there for a reason. it doesnt just fills ur stomach with hopes and fears.

It's amazing how ppl can soar so high and fluctuate immediately. It's that simple.
I thank God though, this may be the best for me. for me to b disillusioned. for me to be weary of firsts. once you take it, it's forever lost. It's just so weird, that your worst enemy happens to share the same things. Maybe we're not so different as we like to think.

but please. let this all go away. smoothly. and time swallows it, nobody even cares no more. this is way too easy for him. this is way too easy.

help me protect the ones closest to my heart. help me help them distance themselves from the eventual truth. because what they don't know wouldnt hurt them. it would be devious. and i'm not even sure they would understand. but when the day comes, i hope they will. or let the day not come.

i am a complete idiot. but i thank god, for the things that had happened that prevented it from being known. this is my lesson.

Unplanned, Unintended.

Shutup. What are you gonna say now? I deserve to have my head put up against the wall. Yes. I really do. I am such a freaky version of Annie Hall right now, I'm not in the very least proud of it. I got myself into tossing and turning and I idiotisize my heart rate and FOR WHAT?

Shitiees.

My guilt-trip is undeniably high right now. It hasn't been that far since well two years ago when heamophilia started wetting his pants. My goodness. What would the mirror say if I look closer into it? Should it turn into a wormhole and swallow me? Or scratch my right eye repeatedly with a knife? Yes. I got my Donnie Darko memories back. I just had a lil bring me back this morning. It's still pretty something. I can remember the first time watching it, I was still a little lolita swooning over Jake Gyllenhaal and his aloofness. I'm pretty sure I've handed down the swooning to a better person. She's much more honest and guilt-free than i can be.

I'm thinking of cheating on my significant other, if you know what i mean.

Polly Shreever. How does that sound? Good?

Pillar of Strength, Torn and Tattered for the 'I' in Threesome

I'm knackered from all those motivational speaking sessions. I still have a pink book that I hardly am empowering, looming behind me, bgging to be finished by the morning. There can never be stills, but what strays from the truth is rarely the answer. Like every moron would say, "Happy endings are stories that aren't over yet." I say, go get laid. Then, will you understand.

The tattoo's still new but I'm trying to let it not make butterflies in the stomach. Gawd, if there's one, please help me be calm and calm in the circumstances I'm thinking of right now. Help me make not rash decisions and give me a happy and sweet ending for me by the end of it.

Pretentious as they may be, I care about the little loves. It must be a bore, listening to The Polly reminding them to sweep up the corridor or clean the tabletop. My people upfront are most undecided. They make the coolest pair of the stereotypical "big, hairy dude". The retained tight-lipped is most appreciated as blackmail is enforced thoroughly. I smirk in the face of that!

Love,
P.M.