MULING PAGKABUHAY

My unfinished cover for
our ‘Bare|Hubad’ literary folio.

PRELUDE

Don’t click this… please…

“Boom tarat tarat… boom tarat… tararat… tararat… BOOM BOOM BOOM”

Eeeeerghhh… Last Song Syndrome disturbs me…

Oh please, stop Willie… stop… aaaargh

“Boom tarat tarat… boom tarat… tararat… tararat… BOOM BOOM BOOM”

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

* * *

Days have passed and nothing has changed.

I am still the cracked up credo of the family who practically makes himself out by listening to Korean songs and creeping my intestines to starvation by watching Iron Chef. My room is still blue, preserved by the humidity of our bungalow goodness on the hilltops of Cavite. Though some gray scabs the serenity of the hue, the paint does seem to doze with the touché of substandardization–a gesture of carelessness that faded the flawlessness of my previous masterpiece……

…eeew. That was boring. ^_^ I can’t believe I just did that… Lol.

* * *

I’ve resurrected from my grave. Too much sleeping, too much eating, too much potato-couching, too much ass-juicing, bleeh…. I still have my hangovers. Some maggots are still squirming inside my nasal cavities that’s why I can’t breathe comfortably. Hey, Mickey! Stop chewing my kidneys, ok? Ouch, (*squish). Oh Jim, it tickles… ugh… (swallowed Combantrin). Squeeeeee!

* * *

SUICIDAL

I am a God.

OMG. Superiority complex.

I killed myself many times before I signed up for a blog.

I tried stabbing my stomach with a cleaver. I slide the blade slowly to the right, slicing the pouch of my intestines. Blood gushed faster than the acids that melted most of the gobbles that I thought were my kidneys…

I fainted… but still lived. Hell, I didn’t know hospitalization is that freakin’ expensive in DLSU-UMC.

Then I made a cheap stake out of my online socialite candor–slashing my wrist.

I thought it was not painful. It’s just a cut on the wrist anyway, I gasped. But errgh, blood spewed outrageously from my veins. Crimson stained our mattresses. It didn’t control itself but let flow of its anger. It was gruesome.

I fainted…

… but still lived.

A simple gauze and some blood donation killed my killing.

I was so desperate. I want to make things more complicated to them…

We have this oven. I placed my head inside. Grasping the knob above my neck, I turned it 350 degrees.

The tingling sensation became enormously agonizing. It dried my eyes and boiled my skin. I smell burnt plastic on my head. My hair is burning. My lips are popping. I can’t see anything. I was losing my senses… one at a time.

It was so painful, I can’t almost feel anything. The heat was pounding millions of needles puncturing my face one by one. More pops occurred. I didn’t know what has been going on. Then I slept. I never woke up.

I was successful.

…

I thought I was.

Dreck, WHAT THE HELL IS MANNY AND PIE CALAYAN DOING HERE?

* * *

RESURRECTION

I just have some things in mind that I think I’ve done a great deal for putting an end to their years of hibernation.

My Smart Amazing Phone left me last April. So I deposited it to a cellphone repair shop in Indang, thinking that they are specialized in Smartphones. But hell, it took me a dozen “sa Wednesday balikan mo…” before I realized they never had their dirty fingernails touched the keypad of my phone. I never paid, and dreadfully regretted to have landed my godliness in that swamp–only to realize that I can fix my phone by myself.

I attached it to my PC and turned it on. And POOF! It sparked! And booted to Windows Mobile. Sheesh.

Thank you effing much for keeping me waiting for 5 months, suckos in Wurmworks, Brgy. 4, Indang, Cavite. Don’t go there. Don’t go there. I said, don’t go there.

* * *

I made hukay the baul of our semi-bodega under my bed and found my very first webcam slash digicam from Creative.

When i first installed this 3 years ago, it can only record videos and snapshots. Now, with the added features embedded on its updated webcam center, it could actually turn into a motion sensing surveillance camera. Haha.

* * *

I seldom draw nowadays. I don’t know what’s happening to me. My passion to it now requires a cog for an obligation that should be fulfilled.

My anime fanaticism pales slowly each time I watch melodramas on TV. Our free TV restricts it. Our cable TV retards it. Now, I’m losing the real side of me… the real side of me 7 years ago…

Now, I draw and draw and draw, and planning to have my dormant comic series Canvas to have a grand return-of-the-comeback. If it’s not gonna push through, I’m gonna make a short film about the relativity of outer shells of atoms to time, fate, and the so-called “world”. Help me with my endeavors, guys.

* * *

I love Yeng Constantino. I love her. A songwriter, a rocker, a diva, a dancer– a popstar. TOTAL PERFORMER. Complete package. I love her. I love her. I love her. WE LOVE HER.

I’ll spread more love to everybody. Download Yeng Constantino’s Hawak-Kamay.mp3. Hahaha! Piracy is the best policy! I’m so mean! Median and mode! Whohoo!

I just wanna make her more popular. That’s all. ^_^

Uh… how come I write this here? Waaah!

* * *

The Executive Producer of Pinoy Dream Academy is murdered. Our condolences to the family of Mr. Siervo.

* * *

OMG… What the hell is happening to me?

Categories: Personalan, Tsismisan