When I am 64

Monday, as it always turns out, is a bitch.

Even though I am starting to like my work and the things I do in order to forget all the bad things that had had happened to me, I just can't shake off the BV that Monday always brings to me. Hence, the Three Things Rule.

I only do this stuff on my Tumblr account, but since I am starting to practice binge writing again, I've decided to do this here as well. So, here it goes....

1. What is poverty? It is when you, knowing that your mom already sent your allowance through your bank account, check your ATM and find out that the amount still remains the same: PHP 36.00. Do you know what’s worse? It is when you only have Php100 in your pocket and you still have to eat dinner. Story of my life. (PAYSLIP, Y U SO MAILAP?)
2. What is depression? It is when you are asked by several people in different instances the same question: “Are you in law school?” It could have been easier to say, “I dropped out of law school.” But you know you did not. What’s worse? It is when you cannot explain the reason you why stayed in law school for only two weeks. adhasvhavqfheajfb *It’s all coming back, it’s all coming back to me noooow*
3. What is work addiction? It is when you voluntarily take home your work, so that you can forget Number 2.

Please please me

Today, I will rant.

With the recent events in my life, I don't know how to feel anymore. I mean, I almost got into law school, almost had my dream job (Barista at Starbucks), almost had someone special, almost blah blah blah. Almost, but not quite. I am always hanging by a moment, slightly tasting and feeling the high, but something always has to happen. Something happens all the time. Either I am bad at timing or I am just jinxed to the eternal doom of almost, but not quite kind of life. I don't know what to think of anymore. I don't know what to feel anymore. I don't know where I stand, I don't know what to do anymore.

I am not tired, I just feel lost. Lost in the moment of uncertainty. Lost in the fucks of life. Lost in everything. There's still hope, so they say, but I just wish it could let me survive until the end of the year.

One day, I will be someone else. I will be somebody I long to be. I will be a better person. Soon. But for now, let me be just this wrecked, hyperactive, anti-social 21-year old girl who doesn't know what's happening in her life despite all the planning and all.

With this, I shall end my note with...

Love Will Tear Us Apart

Do you know what happens when you get your heart broken? You overcompensate.

You do the stuff you don’t usually do. You study hard, you get active with a lot of community endeavors, you read books you thought you’ll never read, you exercise and make yourself better. You become somebody else. You occupy yourself with many things, thinking that you’ll get over him sooner than you expect. You keep yourself busy. You keep your head clear from any of his memories.

You run from his memories. You opt not to watch the TV shows that he likes. You turn off your iPod once you hear the music he listens to. You hide him from your News Feed on Facebook. You delete his messages on your phone. You throw away your photos together. You try hard to disintegrate yourself from him.

You wake up early to start a productive day. You work harder, you push yourself to the limits. You go home, a little drunk and tired. You hit the bed. You don’t have the energy anymore. You sleep late, and the routine continues the next day. You become a robot, merely existing, barely living. You tire yourself. You work until you run out of energy, until your body cries for help, until your mind screams “Rest!” You work and work and work and work until you hit pit bottom.

You keep fighting the urge to regress. You fight off any unwanted emotions. You keep telling yourself that you are strong. But in the end? The fact remains—you have a hole in your heart that no one/nothing, not even the greatest accomplishment, can ever fill in.

The Great Perhaps

I failed my part of the bargain.

Do I feel remorse? No. Do I feel regret? No. But there's just one thing in my mind: The Great Perhaps. It is not regret that provokes this kind of question. No, not regret at all. It is more of human nature that gives me this kind of idea. What if I did my part of the bargain? What if I did what I was supposed to do? What if I did things differently? What if, will everything be different?

No, of course not. Everything will still be the same. I will still think of the The Great Perhaps, mainly because I have done things differently. And it's normal. It's human nature to want something we don't have. Why? Because we love the thrill. We love the chase. We love the challenge it poses to our humanity. Well, at least for me.

I like chasing something I can never have. I like the feeling of uncertainty, of whether I can really have it or not. It makes me feel as if there's still hope in humanity. It makes me think that maybe, just maybe, there's still more to life for me. It makes me feel as though I am made for something, that I could be someone else. It makes me feel alive even for a while. But most of the time, it kills me.

AAAAAAHHHH! THE GREAT PERHAAAA *some text missing*

Not Coming Home

What happened to January 2011?

Emotional Trauma. This is when all the 2010 awesomeness and lack of emotions backfired. It is a whirlwind battle against emotional upheavals. My been-there-done-that attitude didn't work. I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I had it all under control. But thanks to family drama and other issues I'd rather not tackle, I am quite in a roller coaster ride with my hormones this month. I could be a drama queen (or king, whichever you prefer) for all I know.

The Black Swan Effect. I am a struggle in the making. A war is brewing inside me. Perhaps that's just me competing against my past and future.

And other things I could not put into words. Will keep you posted soon.

Edge of my Seat

Only few people are worth the effort, the time, and the shenanigans.

Sadly enough, you are not one of them. You never asked me if I am okay. You never did that, because you never really cared about me or about anyone. You never talked to me when you're okay and sober. You just talked to me whenever you have a fucking problem or whenever you needed someone who would listen to your crap. You saw me as someone who will listen to you whenever you want to rant. You only saw me as a wallflower, always ready to understand you, always ready to drop anything at your beck. You never saw me as an equal, because nobody can ever be your equal. Besides who I am to you anyway? I am just some dirtbag you can toss around whenever you are back to your fucking happy ways.

I was a friend to you, but you never were a friend to me. You never listened to me. It was always You because you are the center of the world. You never asked me, "What's wrong?" when I was deliberately telling you that I am fucking depressed. You did not even bother to pat my back, dude. Instead you asked me a far-fetched question directing to your greatness. You never cared that I was fucking my head with a steel bar just so I could get along with your mood swings. You did not even consider that I have a life and problems to deal with, that it was too much for me to do your stuff. I cannot fucking take it anymore

And you know what's the saddest part of it all? It is the fact that I allowed you to do that to me. At some point, I had my faults. I had been a doormat (because that's what I really am). But I can only take so much. I can never be that person anymore. I am tired of always having to consider your feelings before mine, of having to think about your opinions before I express mine, of having to put your needs before mine, and of having to be your shadow everytime. I am sick of it. I'm done with your selfishness and self-serving bias.

You weren't there when I was having a bout with depression. You weren't there when I can't feel my feet. You weren't there when I ate a pack of Cream-O in one sitting. You weren't there when I was thinking of dropping my major. You weren't there when my tummy went crazy. You weren't there when I had my heart broken. Maybe you cannot even understand the story behind these things, because you weren't there. You were simply not there for me.

Perhaps you will never understand me, but I don't care anymore. You can shit all you want, but you cannot move me. Not anymore.

Fluorescent Adolescent

Somebody save me. I don't care how you do it. Just save me.

I want to go anywhere but here. I want to be part of something else. I want to see something new and something crazy. I want to participate in life. And I want to experience Charlie's I-feel-infinite moment. But the sad thing is, I am helpless.

Maybe it is the thing with depression. I keep on doing things I never want to do just to forget the things that I really want to do. I do things in order to compensate for the decisions I cannot make. I get sad, I get happy, I get cranky, I get apathetic over the fact that I am limited and that I do not act on it. One moment, I know what I am doing. Then the next minute, I am as lost as a three-year old kid. But I know that it is more than.

All my life people around me always tell me what to do and what not to do, what I can do and what I cannot do. I am tired being People's Puppet, but I am helpless. I do not want to disappoint them, that's the thing. That's the FUCKING THING. Emotional blackmails always work for me. Always. But I realized, how about my fucking feeling and my fucking life?

I am depressed and I do not want to talk to People, BUT NOBODY NOTICES THAT. I just want to be alone. I just want to lie on my bed and blind myself with Bewitched series or any old film. I want to vanish. I want to apparate. Or maybe be with people whom I trust my high-slash-drunken self with, and believe me there are only few people in that category. Or maybe I just want to forget everything.

"Obliviate!"

Killing the Buzz

Wake me up when October ends.

October 2010 is being a bitch on me. I started it with a bang, and will probably end it with another bang. This month is the worst I've ever had in my entire 20 years of existence. It already topped my March 2008 shit load. I had the roughest weeks this month, and will have another (and hopefully, the last!) screwed up and tiring week whether in the work place or at home.

So far, October is not getting any better for me. The hate fest still continues. And there's this kind of "Revolution" that I am going through. Not that it matters to anyone, but I am pretty fed up with my life. Sounds like teenage shit all over again, right? I know it's immature, but right now, I just feel like that. Maybe it has something to do with my crappy internet connection that keeps on letting me down for the past few days. To think that I am paying the priciest plan there is. So much for "good" advertising, I guess. I just feel tired in general. And I am too young to feel this kind of tiredness. I wish there's an end to this stupid month. Please let this month end soon.

I am emotionally drained, but I can still feel. And that what sucks the most. Being emotionally battered. I usually don't go on telling anyone (not even my closest friends) about the burdens I have, because I know that they have their own set of problems too. I just shrug it off most of the time. I sleep until it passes. However, my defense mechanisms have reached their saturation point. They don't work out anymore. And now, I feel the need to explain to everyone what I am going through. No one will fully listen, of course. That's why I am putting these shits in words, hoping that words will take away what I am feeling right now. But words are never enough.

Perhaps I should just listen to Mozart's Fur Elise now and shut up. Or grab and watch that Sister Act 2 DVD for a change. Ktnxbye.

My kind of Strawberry Field

"Living is easy with eyes closed."

I survived hell week! A week of agitation and non-existent social life due to hell files. I am just so glad that it's over now. Goddamn lot files. I felt zombie for the entire week. So yeah, that's why I am treating myself with... BEATLES!

Apparently, I have been listening to a lot of Beatles songs since god knows when. But I can't still get enough of this addiction. So, just imagine my glee when The Infidel sent me a copy of Across the Universe starring Jim Sturgess and Evan Rachel Wood.

Well. There's nothing really unique about the storyline of the movie. It is pure crap. Perhaps the writers of the movie were overwhelmed by the greatness of the every song. But! The music is good. The songs are well-chosen. And boy, it is psychedelic. It is rare for any artist to re-do and to give justice to the songs that are bigger than history. But yes, the artists in this movie actually pulled it off. I was amazed at how they did that. They have soul when they sing. They wear their hearts on their sleeves as they say each word in the lyrics. Ahhh. Too much!

I actually like their version of Revolution, I want you (She's So Heavy), Happiness is a Warm Gun, I am the Walrus, Girl, Come together, Hold me tight, A Little Help from my friends, Oh! Darling, While My Guitar Gently Weeps, All We Need is Love, and the medley of Helter Skelter and Across the Universe. I basically like all the versions of Beatle songs in this flick.

The movie in general is so-so. But yeah, I kinda like it because of the songs. I am biased like that.

I am a battered wife.

I decided to stay.

I just woke up this morning feeling a bit okay. It took me one Albert Einstein, a 7-hour sleep, some verses, and another 15 minutes to think over my life. Perhaps I am inconsistent and indecisive. But can you blame me for feeling such? I am just a struggling artists living as a corporate slave. My future is blurred.

I feel like a battered housewife. I am helpless over the fact that I cannot move on. I have other options, but I decided to stay, because I don't want to be broke. And being broke is something I don't want to experience ever again (okay, that was, of course, a sarcasm). Seriously, a lot of (working class) people feel this way. It is the strangling thought: If I resign now, I will have a hard time getting a new job. Only few have the guts to venture the path of the unknown, and I am not one of them.

By staying, I admit that I am a coward. I don't have the nerve to go and chase after what I really want. By staying, I admit that perhaps money weighs more than happiness sometimes. LOLJK. By staying, I admit that I want the best of both worlds.

But then, I am not staying for good. I will psych myself so that I could unlearn this helplessness that I feel. I will only stay until "such time" has come. Perhaps until then, I can truly decide.

Chasing Liberty

And so I failed.

I was supposed to inform the office manager that I am not going to continue working with the firm anymore. But then tons of work came. I forgot what I was supposed to accomplish today.

My day started with "Oh shit!" as I realized that it was already 7:30 in the morning and I have work. I stayed immobile for some 15 minutes to plan my strategy for the day. Should I drop the bomb to the manager first thing in the morning or should I wait until my paycheck is given? Should I leave my work at once or should I linger to finish my pending files? Should I do it or not? What are the pros and cons of leaving my job without any certainty about my future? That was the longest and the deepest 15 minutes of my life. Ever.

I dragged myself to work after that. The whole day was hazy for me since I was not myself and I was waiting for the right timing. All came swiftly. It all passed and went. But there are three things I can remember. First, my immediate superior started the day with, "Hoy Angeline! Madami kang rush." while I was having my coffee and small talk with two officemates. Second, the manager was cranky but he told me that I passed my first three months with flying colors. Third, I was swamped with work that I had no time to talk to the manager regarding my impending doom.

Aside from my failure to accomplish my personal task, I also failed to keep hope burning in my chest. I came to realize what a fool had I been last night. I totally busted my chance. So much for shooting for the moon, I guess.

Jack of All Trades, Master of None

I want so many things at once.

And it's not healthy anymore. I am too selfish for my own sake.

Perhaps my interviewer was right when he told me that I need to focus on my future and with what I really want with my life. I guess my resume is a solid proof that I have diverse interests ranging from Human Resource Management to Research and Writing. At first I thought it was cool, because I can be anything I want. But then, I came to realize that it was far from that. I remain to be jack of all trades, master of none

I tried to be an artist, a multimedia junkie, an educator, an anthropologist, a writer, and an employee. They all worked out for me, except for the latter part I think (refer to the previous entry). I just want to explore all my potentials and capabilities, because I want to tell my grandchildren in the future that I had been this and that. Unfortunately, companies want someone who has a direction in life. And that's not me.

I have no direction in life. I have no idea what my career will look like five to ten years from now. Mainly because I have simple needs and simple goals in life. I have not thought of buying a car, because all I need is a decent home where I can eat my mom's cuisine. I have not thought of staying in a company for more than five years, because I want to do something more humane than that. Life is too short only to be spent in a routinary job. I have not thought of any other long term goals because I only have one: to renovate our house. I mean it. I guess if I answered that to my (future) interviewers, they will never understand. Because they will expect my answer to be more work-related shit. I hate to disappoint, but yes. That's the only long term goal that I have in mind.

I have no direction in life, because I want to live life one day at a time. It's funny, because people want to do just that, but they can never understand what it means. I have no focus, because I want so many little things at once. But the thing is, I want only one big thing which people will never understand.

That is to be profound.

Red Light is All I Need

Do you really know what depression means?

Because it is something that I have been experiencing since I read The Perks of Being a Wallflower. I feel the need to find myself and to figure out what I really want to do with my life. I want to vanish for a while. I want to go to a place where I could totally unwind and think about my life in retrospect. I know that I do not have the liberties to do that because I have responsibilities with my family and all, but then reality is depressing me. I am an employee. And I am not growing.

There's nothing wrong with being an employee. What sucks is that my job is not something that I really want. I wake up everyday with a big question mark on my head. I wake up everyday feeling very tired and depressed. I drag myself to work because I know that it is something that I need to do for the sake of subsistence. It is just a routine. And I don't like routines. For three months, I have been doing this and that. But I am not growing anymore. I am stagnant. I am not learning because I don't like what I am doing for a living. Perhaps it has something to do with that.

Three months is a short period of time to learn, but I know it when I am not learning anymore. I know it when all I do is passive learning. It is not good. For the past eight years of my life, I do that. And it is not funny anymore. The real world is here. There's no school to house me in times of great depression, and there are no professors to blame for a failing grade. The real world is here and I am part of it. I only have myself to struggle with. I am the only one who can change my life. I am the captain of my soul, I am the master of my fate.

So tomorrow will be a make or break for me. Sure I have made friends at work, but it is time for me to decide for myself. I won't make the same mistake that I did back when I was in college. I have been playing safe all my life, that's why I am stuck in mediocrity. I wish I could make something happen tomorrow.

It is time to take the risk. It's good thing that I am depressed right now. I do stupid things when I am depressed. I just wish that hope won't die with me tomorrow.

Fast Forward

The funny thing about high school batchmates is that they never turn out to be what you expected them to be.

I was digging some old stuff from my high school days and I saw our yearbook. It was something that I haven't seen since forever, so I tried flipping through it, hoping that I would get some inspiration from what I used to be back then. Little did I know that it was the worst move I could ever muster.

I saw the page where my hideous picture was plastered. My hair was dead. It looked like a brush, a steel brush. My gums and teeth were big enough for two people. And my nose was pretty much non-existent. In short, I looked gruesome. Oh shit. I was a total loser back in high school (make that until college!) I was an invisible student. Not a geek, not a nerd, just a loser. I was (still am) socially awkward so to speak. I don't mingle much and I don't make friends (Okay, LOL for that.) So yeah, given that it was the first page that I saw, I immediately turned over to a random page.

Guess what I saw? Some high school batchmates who are currently having the time of their lives. It was funny to think of them that way, because they were far from what they used to be. Some of them were the ones who were least likely to get through the harsh claws of reality, but when I looked at them now, they actually made it with flying colors. Some of them went to Law and Medical school. Those people who did not talk much back then are the ones prospering right now. It was indeed the revenge of the nerds in the end.

Some of them definitely have a good future ahead. They are making the best of their choices and decisions, while here I am ogling on the past that I never can undo. While they get the taste of sweet life, I am stuck in a place called Mediocrity. I'd like to think of myself as late bloomer of some sort, but reality depresses me. I can't seem to get out of this phase. I am making myself believe that this is just a phase in my life. That this, too, shall pass.

I can dream, can't I?

Everything to Everyone

I always have the need to explain myself to people who do not even give a shit.

I want to be like Holden Caulfield so that I could pass off for being such a jackass most of the time. Unfortunately, I am far from being that person. I guess, I am more of Charlie from The Perks of Being a Wallflower (I keep on typing wallpaper! Allahdammit.) I can be really dense and shithead sometimes, but I (try to) understand the people around me without even asking why. I always try to be sensitive, because I know I am far from it. I try to be patient, because I am not. I try to be objective, because I am an emotional person. I try to be a team player, because I prefer working alone (and am efficient that way.) I try to be mellow, because I can get pretty aggressive. I try to listen a lot, because my attention span is really screwed up. I try to be kind, because I am mean. I always try. I always try to be someone better so that I could make up for my weak points. And it is not easy.

It is never easy to be the understanding one. Who says so? Everyone expects me to be cool and apathetic at all times. That is just sad. Because whenever I become insensitive, impatient, emotional, anti-social, and aggressive, people fail to acknowledge the simple truth that I also have my shortcomings like everyone else. It happens all the time. All the time. It is as if I have "Doormat" written on my forehead.

I cannot always be everything to everyone. I wish I could say that to some Neanderthals (oh yes, they still exist!) But then, I am a victim of the label that I put on my humanity: Wallflower.

It was all yellow

I am feeling kind of blue.

This is one of those days when I just want to lie down and drown myself with sad songs and melodies that don't really mean a thing. I keep on regressing and reminiscing the past--the only thing that I could never get back. There is no pain. None at all. There's just a hallow feeling in me.

I keep on going back and reviewing my life years ago. What have I done? What mistakes have I committed? What stupid decisions have I made? What have I missed? It is too much for me. It is sad, but it does not hurt. It is just sad to think that they were nothing but memories. Memories that will make my existence a lot more meaningful. But soon they will fade just like me.

I go on thinking. I could ramble on and on, but I would not make sense anymore. There's just too much in nothingness. There's just too much in one emotion. And it's too much for one heart.

Burning the Bridges

Sitting, waiting, wishing...

I could use some good introductions right now like "I wish I could write like Edgar Allan Poe..." or "How does it feel to be always waiting for something that will never come?" or "Some stars are meant to fall and never to regain its twinkle," but I know I could not sustain that. I would be bastardizing a good start with a nonsensical follow ups. So better not to use any of them.

I am thinking of something witty or interesting to write about. I have thought of writing my obituary, but that's just so typical. I have thought of ranting about how my life sucks right now, but that's so whiny. I have thought of weaving words for my suicide note, but that's pathetic. I have thought of listing down what I did today (which is not interesting at all), but that's very lame. So, I decided on writing about nothing and something at the same time. What could that be?

Superman is Gay. This has been a theory since time immemorial. I have heard a lot of accounts regarding Superman's gender. There are a lot of debates going on the virtual world, but nothing beats the joke that I have heard from Infidel today (I guess, that's because it was the first time that I have heard of this joke!) It goes something like this (but not quite). There were some text missing, but get the point? That must have been the start of his "gayness." LOLJK. I also found a discussion on his gender over the internet. A serious discussion, dude. You can check it out here. Oh, pop culture! What the heck. I need Foucault or whoever gender theorists are available.

Blue streak. Ever heard of the expression talk a blue streak? Well, I haven't until Infidel told me about it. It means to say a lot very fast, to talk very much and very rapidly, in short--to blabber. But! It also means something other than its figurative meaning. Apparently, it is the term used to label the act of igniting one's fart. I kid you not. You can check this and that for further proof that one's fart is combustible. I also Googled on the matter (fart is the subject, my friend) and found an interesting link that can provide anyone a better understanding on fart. And yes, while I am writing this I am slashing my throat using a bread knife. Writing about fart is close to abomination and social suicide.

Dongca's Birthday!

Ber Months. I am never a fan of months with -ber on its end, because that only means one thing: Christmas. Though I am lusting for a long Holiday, I am not looking forward to Christmas for reasons I stated before. I am slowly turning into a Grinch. I have to endure the (repetitive) Christmas songs again. Oh. NO.

Want vs Need. My ultimate dilemma. Right now, I am contemplating on choosing which to acquire: a cellphone or a camera. I really want to have a Blackberry for a phone, but that's just not me. I mean, 2mp and not much of a mp3 player. So I think I will settle for Sony Ericsson Aino. As for the camera, well... That's different. I am lusting for Yashica FX-2 ever since I held it with my hands, but it is not practical to use film right now (unless I am a professional photographer.) So I (will) concede to Sir Abe's piece of advice: Go Digital. But then, I am having a hard time choosing which of the two (cellphone and camera) I will get. I can only have one! It is hard to choose.

This and That. November and December will be the death of me. I need to decide before November 11, 2010!!! Why is it hard to decide? Tell meeeee! WHY?

Oh shit. It's past 12am already! I failed to post this on the first day of September. Crap.

Pet Peeves 101

I am often an objective person when it comes to other people's antics and shits. But sometimes, I just get so annoyed at some little things that other people find irrational (Hey! That's why it's called pet peeve.)

1. People who walk veeeeeeery slow. I can understand the senior citizens, but a teenager with strong limbs and high energy? No.
2. People who block the way.
3. Intense Grammar Nazis.
4. Erasures on notes. I am sorry, but I take particular notice to handwriting and its neatness. So pardon me if I find erasures and intelligible writing offensive.
5. People who write on my notebooks/planner. I get very snappy when it comes to my notebooks/planner because they are my valuables. I can let a very close friend to write on my valuables, but it is only on rare occasions.
6. Self-glorifying people. I hate people who say/point out that what they do is way better than what other people are doing. Does demeaning other people's job make them a lot better? I find myself guilty of this crime sometimes, but I am trying to change the habit of lol-ing at some call center agents who are Grammar Nazis and so mayabang (because they can speak the language) but fail on delivering well.
7. Seniority. Some people/systems uphold the value of seniority. I understand it sometimes, but it is just too much when some people/systems tend to disrespect the neophytes.
8. Impolite elders. Oldies tend to be know-it-all creatures. Sometimes the way they speak to the younger generation is just too much. Most of the time, they are disrespectful of my generation. During those times, I just want to shout to them that it is their generation that raised us. But that would defeat my principle on individuals capacity to think critically. Or maybe it would not. I still have to figure that.
9. MRT.
10. When people become moody and inconsistent. That's just annoying.

Insensitivity and Fear

I am afraid of Death.

Who wouldn't be? I am afraid of Death, because I do not know what lies ahead. And not knowing is hard. I fear Death not because I want to live a longer life, but because Death is something terrible. It is not dark as others would like to portray it. It is not dark, but it is awful. No matter how peaceful someone's death is, it is still terrifying. I fear Death because it the defining moment between Eternity and Life. It is a make-or-break moment, at least for me. I fear Death, but I always see it happening it.

Everyday I see my Death. I see myself lying lifeless on the floor with blood dripping from my head. I see myself being crashed by a ten-wheeler truck while crossing South Super Hi-way. I see myself being rushed to the hospital due to a fatal disease. I see myself being dead-on-the-spot in a vehicular accident. I see myself dying a horrible and gruesome death. I always see these images. Always. It is not normal. Or is it? I do not know. But all I know is that I am that afraid.

People might not understand this, but to tell you the truth, I do not like riding a motorcycle, a car, a boat, and a plane. I find it difficult to look at a car or a motorcycle in a normal way (since dying in a sinking boat or crashing plane is something normal.) I mean, I always associate these to death, so pardon me when I say no to a free ride. That is my way of preventing my premature death.

It is normal to fear Death, I think. But what isn't normal is to make fun of someone who says "What I am concerned with is the possibility of a plane crash if I go with you." and to think ill of that someone afterwards because you are one of the people who will go to somewhere someday. (I am sorry for ranting out of the blue. I am that someone, by the way.) You (whoever you are) must not think of what I said the bad way (well, what's new? You always expect and think the worst out of the people around you, anyway.) I already apologized. It is my fault to speak out my worst fear, but you cannot blame me if I am afraid of dying. I do not wish you a bad flight or something. I am just stating my worry without intending to instill fear to any of you. That was insensitivity on my part. Pardon me. But I am afraid of dying.

Cranky Monday Morning

I woke up today feeling fuzzy and cranky. It is Monday. Again.

I am never a Monday person. I do not like Mondays because Mondays are stressful and people are more rude than they actually are. I do not hate Mondays, it is just I don't like it in general. There is just something about Mondays that makes me cranky and snobby like most people around me. It is like I absorb the negative energy that they emit (okay, that sounds geeky.) Or I do not know. I just don't feel like a Monday could ever be a good day.

I am mostly apathetic, uncaring, and neutral during Mondays. But today, I was extra ruthless, demotivated, and tired. I think, I will have to attribute my sluggishness and crankiness this morning to the fact that Mondays mean another start of long and tiring and meaningless weekdays for me. Mondays mean working and going back to a routine that never really suits my personality. Monday is a just cruel day for me. Every time. Not that I always get into a fight or bad luck every Monday. It is just that Monday is never my day. It will never be. Well, unless something like divine intervention happened. That would be the day.

But in general? No Monday will be ever good enough for me.