posting via 3rd party blogger app on my Galaxy SII. testing
posted from Bloggeroid
Friday, June 29, 2012
Monday, June 25, 2012
Everyman
Everyman;
knows he dies,
when he dies.
Everyman;
knows the pain,
when he pains.
Everyman;
knows the joy,
when he joys.
Some say
we need time
to wonder why.
Everyman;
he says go,
and he goes.
Some say
stay back and
let time heal.
Everyman
does what
every man does.
knows he dies,
when he dies.
Everyman;
knows the pain,
when he pains.
Everyman;
knows the joy,
when he joys.
Some say
we need time
to wonder why.
Everyman;
he says go,
and he goes.
Some say
stay back and
let time heal.
Everyman
does what
every man does.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
the uber feeling
had the weirdest shower on Friday morning. seriously, it's like none I've ever had.
I went inside the shower cubicle, small as it may be, but enough to stuff my humongous but beautifully crafted body inside it, and I hung my towel on the door. By then I was only in my shorts, ready to test my mettle with the Arctic waters of the morning shower.
Squeak. And the water poured as if it hated the containment of the shower head (it even poured from the sides of the head, not just the little holes). A few drops fell on my tender skin and I squealed like a girl pinched in the butt by her teacher for not finishing her homework.
Huff. A deep breath for a deep journey. I took a step forward. If Mordor had a reciprocal equivalent, this was it. Puff. The deep breath wasn't enough. Horse-like syllables spewed out of my collagen-filled lips, a signal of coldness I presumed. Then the weirdest thought came to me.
This was to be my last bath in KMS.
Suddenly the cold receptors in my flawless skin lost its sensitivity. So was my brain. I stared at the hideous wall of the shower and recalled every bit of memory I had in this wretched college. It was all too fast. The 35mm film that contained my memory raced by so fast I only caught glimpses of my memories. Then again, it could be because of the severe cold that my elegant body was enduring subconsciously.
A shake of the head was enough to bring me back to my senses. The cold had mysteriously eluded me, and I was comfortable. Meh. I reached for my liquid soap and then something struck again. Something far more serious than before. Something physical. Something painful. Something severely painful.
It was coming from my perfectly-soft-but-pretty lower abdomen, and it felt like Thor took a swing at it. I only had curses then. Curses and curses. Hexes and jinxes. Spells and enchantments. As I held my gorgeous lower abdomen, yet another thought came into my mind. What was this intense feeling? Was my voluptuous body trying to signal something? Some sentimental message? Did it tried to warn me of inextricable feelings I had for the cursed place that is KMS?
Slowly I looked up the shower and let the already-nicely-temperatured water down my stunning face. I tried to lose myself in the thoughts of the God-forsaken place. I lured my memories, the ones that was in the 35mm film, to playback itself slowly, in a manner that was comprehensible for me. Somehow the bastard controlling the projector and I was not on the same wavelength.
Squeak. The water now approached warp speed. Jenson Button would be envious of its speed. It also started to hurt my delicate face and make its way up my perfect nostrils and up my sinus. Fffuah. I let go my million dollar face from the barbaric nature of the water and let it massage my tender-but-tense shoulders. Yet after all my attempts at memory-hunting, that intense pressure on my Michaelangelo-sculpted lower abdomen had yet to subside.
Was I hindering my own mind into creating sustainable memories? Was I stopping myself from having fun? Was this some kind of punishment my jaw-dropping body gave to me because I never cherished these unholy grounds? I gave in. I felt a frown on my super-attractive face. How could I be so stupid? I made myself not enjoy the time I had in college, even after mom said "have fun!" every time she dropped me back here. I felt so.....disgusted. I wasted two good years, the final of my teenage years, for nothing. My ego had the better of me and now I had two years of memory deleted just like that. So swift it didn't even wait for the magician's "poof!"
I always like the rinsing part of a shower. It makes me feel as though all the ugly stuff are washed away from my sensational body. But not that day. No matter how much I rinsed, no amount of ice-cold-but-yet-very-comfortable water could wash away that feeling I had. Yes, that emotional upheaval originating from the lower abdomen that makes the statue of David green with envy, mine.
Squeak. I think I showered with water equivalent to the River Nile that morning. I dried my amazing self with frowns that would make Disneyland ban me from entering. The pain was still there, never taking away even a Del from itself. I held it with my sexy hands and slowly walked away from the last shower I will ever use in KMS. It's sad when the only vivid memory you have of college is the shower, I thought. An insincere but uncontrollable smile suddenly sketched itself on my flourishingly-red lips, and I stood in front of the mirror, seeing the pathetic yet gorgeous human being imaged on it. Behind me was the toilet.
Again, uncontrollably, my astonishing body walked itself into the toilet and sat down with a thud. Then the most uncontrollable, the mother of all uncontrollable things happened. My awe-inspiring face lit up with enjoyment.
Kaboom. I took one of the hugest dump in my life. The pain immediately simmered away. I was okay.
The most sincere smile followed afterwards. I'll never miss this place. Not a chance. Not in this life, nor the next. Though I must say, those thoughts I had in the shower, what were those? Ah well, it's over now. No use crying over spilt milk, says the cliche bastards.
I went inside the shower cubicle, small as it may be, but enough to stuff my humongous but beautifully crafted body inside it, and I hung my towel on the door. By then I was only in my shorts, ready to test my mettle with the Arctic waters of the morning shower.
Squeak. And the water poured as if it hated the containment of the shower head (it even poured from the sides of the head, not just the little holes). A few drops fell on my tender skin and I squealed like a girl pinched in the butt by her teacher for not finishing her homework.
Huff. A deep breath for a deep journey. I took a step forward. If Mordor had a reciprocal equivalent, this was it. Puff. The deep breath wasn't enough. Horse-like syllables spewed out of my collagen-filled lips, a signal of coldness I presumed. Then the weirdest thought came to me.
This was to be my last bath in KMS.
Suddenly the cold receptors in my flawless skin lost its sensitivity. So was my brain. I stared at the hideous wall of the shower and recalled every bit of memory I had in this wretched college. It was all too fast. The 35mm film that contained my memory raced by so fast I only caught glimpses of my memories. Then again, it could be because of the severe cold that my elegant body was enduring subconsciously.
A shake of the head was enough to bring me back to my senses. The cold had mysteriously eluded me, and I was comfortable. Meh. I reached for my liquid soap and then something struck again. Something far more serious than before. Something physical. Something painful. Something severely painful.
It was coming from my perfectly-soft-but-pretty lower abdomen, and it felt like Thor took a swing at it. I only had curses then. Curses and curses. Hexes and jinxes. Spells and enchantments. As I held my gorgeous lower abdomen, yet another thought came into my mind. What was this intense feeling? Was my voluptuous body trying to signal something? Some sentimental message? Did it tried to warn me of inextricable feelings I had for the cursed place that is KMS?
Slowly I looked up the shower and let the already-nicely-temperatured water down my stunning face. I tried to lose myself in the thoughts of the God-forsaken place. I lured my memories, the ones that was in the 35mm film, to playback itself slowly, in a manner that was comprehensible for me. Somehow the bastard controlling the projector and I was not on the same wavelength.
Squeak. The water now approached warp speed. Jenson Button would be envious of its speed. It also started to hurt my delicate face and make its way up my perfect nostrils and up my sinus. Fffuah. I let go my million dollar face from the barbaric nature of the water and let it massage my tender-but-tense shoulders. Yet after all my attempts at memory-hunting, that intense pressure on my Michaelangelo-sculpted lower abdomen had yet to subside.
Was I hindering my own mind into creating sustainable memories? Was I stopping myself from having fun? Was this some kind of punishment my jaw-dropping body gave to me because I never cherished these unholy grounds? I gave in. I felt a frown on my super-attractive face. How could I be so stupid? I made myself not enjoy the time I had in college, even after mom said "have fun!" every time she dropped me back here. I felt so.....disgusted. I wasted two good years, the final of my teenage years, for nothing. My ego had the better of me and now I had two years of memory deleted just like that. So swift it didn't even wait for the magician's "poof!"
I always like the rinsing part of a shower. It makes me feel as though all the ugly stuff are washed away from my sensational body. But not that day. No matter how much I rinsed, no amount of ice-cold-but-yet-very-comfortable water could wash away that feeling I had. Yes, that emotional upheaval originating from the lower abdomen that makes the statue of David green with envy, mine.
Squeak. I think I showered with water equivalent to the River Nile that morning. I dried my amazing self with frowns that would make Disneyland ban me from entering. The pain was still there, never taking away even a Del from itself. I held it with my sexy hands and slowly walked away from the last shower I will ever use in KMS. It's sad when the only vivid memory you have of college is the shower, I thought. An insincere but uncontrollable smile suddenly sketched itself on my flourishingly-red lips, and I stood in front of the mirror, seeing the pathetic yet gorgeous human being imaged on it. Behind me was the toilet.
Again, uncontrollably, my astonishing body walked itself into the toilet and sat down with a thud. Then the most uncontrollable, the mother of all uncontrollable things happened. My awe-inspiring face lit up with enjoyment.
Kaboom. I took one of the hugest dump in my life. The pain immediately simmered away. I was okay.
The most sincere smile followed afterwards. I'll never miss this place. Not a chance. Not in this life, nor the next. Though I must say, those thoughts I had in the shower, what were those? Ah well, it's over now. No use crying over spilt milk, says the cliche bastards.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Keep calm and shit
you know that annoying feeling when, you thought you just finished your shit, then you wash your ass right?
then as you wash, some more shit come out and it lands on your hands and you frantically wash it off.
then you give another push, but nothing comes out and you say "awww shit" (which is redundant).
then you have to wash your ass again.
you, my friend, have been living in luxury you may not deserve.
and yes, the feeling is...shitty (lame)
ciao
then as you wash, some more shit come out and it lands on your hands and you frantically wash it off.
then you give another push, but nothing comes out and you say "awww shit" (which is redundant).
then you have to wash your ass again.
you, my friend, have been living in luxury you may not deserve.
and yes, the feeling is...shitty (lame)
ciao
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