Of Regrets and Salvador Dali  

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I'm letting my fingers loose on the keyboard again hoping they'll come up with something interesting. A lot has been going on these past few days, and right now I'm not sure how it all started anymore, nor do I know how its gonna end.

I'm riddling this post with images from Salvador Dali because they make that confused and disturbed feeling of disorientation seem beautiful.

I think I'm being devoured by my own stereotype. I have fallen victim to the vicious pattern again. Once again, I'm involved with somebody I shouldn't be involved with (according to the law, at least) and I think I like it. I'm in the danger zone again.

Then there's this other world that's trying to reel me in too. She's another person that I shouldn't associate myself with, but she gives such good head that I just can't get her (them) completely out of my system. I'm kidding, of course. Or am I...?

I miss my youth. Experience is a treasure but I just wish I was more prepared for them when they came. I miss being so recklessly careless, and not concerning myself with consequences. Experience tends to make you more wary of what would come next. Oh what I wouldn't give to take it all back.

I hate what I've become. And I fear what I would turn into.

The song keeps playing over and over in my head. It wants to come out. My musical growth has gotten so stunted that I fail to hear every note now. I can't express it. Its been held back for so long that I don't think I can reach deep inside to get to it anymore. Tragic.

So what if everybody looks at me funny? Prehistoric man used reserves of fat in their body to keep them going throughout the day. It was important for men to look like that back then. So I.. what was I talking about again?

I keep forgetting I still owe Lio Loco that Zafra book.

This is starting to become another bullet blog. I know because I keep pressing the space bar too many times again.

Paranoia is rearing its ugly head again. I keep thinking everybody in the team hates me. Or that they simply just don't like me. I'm all about team play but not when I'm in this twisted state of mind.

I also noticed I've been procrastinating since birth. There are so many things that I should've been done with by now, but haven't even started on yet. Like clean my room. I clean my room as often as I clear my head. I told myself I would reformat my computer 2 months ago. So I backed up my files onto my brother's external HDD, and then put them back on my computer 3 days later without reformatting. I wanted to quit smoking years ago, and I'm still trying to quit. And, what diet?

I feel so lost. There are these days when I feel like I just want to hide under a rock, but its so pathetic that I can't even find a rock big enough to conceal me.

What diet?

I don't know what I want now. Sure I want to be rich and successful, but how? I want my Mom to see me reach the top before God takes her away from me. I want to pay her back for everything. I already failed my Dad.

Envy. I have friends who are the same age as I am and they've gotten it made. They have 2 or 3 houses, cars, decent jobs, and a family of their own. I'm happy for them, really. I just wish life and luck were a little more objective is all.

What is my purpose? What lies beyond the horizon, I do not know. And I don't think I want to find out. So here's hoping I make it. If I don't, then I leave my collection of coins and stamps to my sister Marie.

There's one other recent chapter in my unending struggle called life that I failed to talk about in this post. That's because she doesn't talk about me in her posts either. I guess she never thought I'd ask.

My life has become dull and boring ever since I grew up. This is my come-uppance. This is karma at work. This, is the end of this post.


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Stories from the Simian Crease by Binchee is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Philippines License.
Based on a work at binchee.blogspot.com