By Wild Ice
Too abstract. I usually don't have much concrete stuff with my recent post and it may confuse a reader (if there are any). This post deals with one of my unforgettable evening (damn, here goes my fucking senti-mode again!! Ech!! Ech!!)...
Damn it... Wait.. My dark alter-ego's bleeding and lachrymose: "THIS IS NOT YOU!!!!"
Alright... Let's get down to business.
"NOOOOOOOOO!!!"
3:04AM - YOU told me you just finished watching DVD and just had your midnight ('early morning' is more like it) snack.
3:11AM - We talk about our health. PRONOUN 'WE/US' used counter : 01
3:42AM - Outline of your materialistic cravings that moment and a little tease on me (which means you are open about teasing each other)
3:57AM - Cofee lovers talk. And you opened that sacred gate for a phonecall. PRONOUN 'WE/US' used counter : 02
4:42AM - Petty talks I already erased and then you once more asked me to call.
And there we were: Two people drowned and drifted by the torrents of questions accompanied by the whirlpools of confusions and shyness.
And here I am: Confused, downright infatuated and pissed off (about posting such in my blog but just can't control it).
Oh, and of course some of the messages which are beyond that time frame above also contain my now favorite pronoun. SO I'm counting them now.
Total PRONOUN 'WE/US' used counter : 04 (Quite few.. But the sight of it just steers my emotions wildly).
By Wild Ice
Indeed, that thing called 'love' comes in unexpected moments. Going a few nightouts back, I encountered You unexpectedly at my house.
Warning: The next sentences may make you puke due to sentimental 'corned' terms which one may not expect from a me (since I've never been this emotional).
It had been a common post in blogs about people and their friggin' love life and I'm telling you everytime I read about one... *sigh* curses...
But is it really that way? When one feels that strange feeling, one has the craving for letting the public have an idea about it? Maybe the answer is in front of your eyes. I'm not that kind of person but I am it now and it is because of this odd sensation deep inside (damn--there you go!!! Corn!!).
Let me address these words to my YOU and as usual, I won't mention names--just clues. It's like Blues Clues meets Korean Melodrama. Moving on, if you remember quite clearly, I mentioned about "relationship" alongside "babysitting" from my Tuesday Falling Star blogpost. And realizing I'm becoming a gourmet in this idea, I shall once again eat some of my words. Am I really that desperate? Or Am I just that 'infatuated'?
We spent the other night together and indeed it was one of the best nights I've had. And the feeling just reminds me of that of the time I posted my blog about eating shawarma for the first time (one of my first few blogs dealing with "love" or "infatuation"). And this very very early morning, I had enough courage and extra load to have a conversation with you. It was odd; I fought sleepiness to have the conversation with you. We had the whole two hours texting and the next 42 minutes and 57 seconds spilling odd personal questions--which I've never done for years with someone I like. And I've been laughing the wholetime---you noticed. It was the other me--laughing at the infatuated me. It was very foolish of me--don't worry, you're not the only one confused here. I am also confused---I'm not into this thing and I've made mention about not wanting to be some babysitter.
But right now, I guess babysitting would do good... just to fucking have you (corn... more corns please!!). If you only knew, I'm saving your messages like hell (corn). And I read them over and over and I get the tingles whenever I read the pronoun 'us' you used (Damn right, I'm being a fucking highschooler again). And I keep on looking for hidden messages embedded between lines. Actually, I even learned how you compose your texts.
Before we ended our phonecall this early morning, I dropped the bomb question. Funny thing is that you just played with it and asked for specifics. I parried the idea that I was about to detonate it for the sake of expressing what I want to happen between us (there goes that pronoun once more!!! And.. CORN CORN CORN)
"I need to go back to sleep...Good night." I ended and we bid goodbyes.
Fuck love. Damn, I hate this. But will I be able to control the feeling?
To be fucking continued....
By Wild Ice
It's not that I'm really against this person, it's just that it caught my attention once again. If you happen to lose your mind and click on my blogposts particularly the one about whom I called "god", you'd have the some idea about that person's characteristics--well, based on my perspective.
I just feel like mentioning this: A friend of mine told me "god" is appearing on TV. And when I heard about the title of the show, I laughed myself to sleep for the mere reason that it is the most (if only I could add intensifiers with the word 'most'--which would make it redundant yet true) unlikely show that "god" could be in.
Take note that "god" is very dark spiritually, serious, and, well, anti-social.
But really?? In THAT show?!!
Later did my friend made me realize about the course that "god" is taking up which had this TV guesting as a requirement. Okay, I got my hands up and hands off the matter.
But really??? "_____ _______"??!!!! Puh-leeeeease!!!!
Oh, and it dawned on me: "god"'s course makes everything ironic beyond irony. Get a clue.
By Wild Ice
At midnight last Tuesday,I managed to go out and chill with some friends. Now, I don't want to mention that one of the persons I admire was there (CHISMIS!!!)--the reason why I got up late for two nights. But I'm not really into that person; The last thing that I want to be in a relationship is to be the babysitter.
Sorry I had to spill that one out.
Anyhow, while we were having our very very open conversation, I was suddenly struck by some bluish dash of light upon the sky. My friends were also suddenly dumbfounded;They saw it too.
Upon the sky was a bright falling star which made a pretty blue line which lasted for, like, ten seconds. We were all starstruck despite the absence of any Britney Spears or Halle Berry.
Then, being a little childish, I made a wish--we all did actually.
Did you see it? It was around twelve at Tuesday Evening or Wednesday morning. It was South East of the sky.
By Wild Ice
Here sat the monitor in front of me. It cursed me over and over and took control of the mouse for one hundred twenty seconds leading me to this blank space and uttered, "Write about it."
"About what?" I responded with my usual foul-mouthed mind mouth.
"About that." The friggin' monitor pointed to the contents of my bombarded inner universe.
Getting tired of this futile guessing game, I replied, "There's a great myriad of things in there."
"Exactly."
"Note that I just rent PC's, honey, and I ain't no rich kid (unlike those you find in the net who usually pretend they own the world and can buy the Jaguars in Bush's expansive garage). "
"But it's what you do, right?" The monitor sounded like that old woman in the Twister movie. "You write about the truth your head contain. The truth that you find everyday.."
I paused and thought of everything for a while (with segways of silent curses). I have a lot of things to say--to you, to myself, to the world... What the hell are you talking about?!! (I'm impressed that I manage to self-censor to somehow control the growing number of bad words I use in my blogs. But believe me, in my head, there's more than just those).
I am actually on the verge of dropping atomic bombs to certain stuff (and people, I may add) but I said, "No, not now... What the heck?" It's not that I'm always mad; It's just that I'm very... Oh, god, what's the correct word for it? 'Cynic'? No. Damn, I can't even describe it. But what the heck---billions of bloggers are posting in every three seconds on earth. And I'm tired of the same stuff (there goes one thought off my chest!!!). I've submitted myself for over a year now in the mundane world to try to understand the whole thing about being such and it's indeed fucking boring (there goes another with the freedom of the 'F' word to flirt over the webs of your network!!!). It's time to live again. I think I've learned enough about the whole 'Mainstream' thing.
No, it's not time for a change. It's time to resurrect. Give me time to kill this Mr. Mundane James tonight.
"That's what I'm talking about," The monitor gave me that mischievious smirk.
