a reasonable light

"the stars are out tonight; shall i let them catch me?"

here i am at two in the morning, getting ready to go work my gorgeous butt partly off, transferring a bit of stocks and bonds to some six strangers, beneficiary of the estate and trust accounts of the deceased so and so. not that i'm forced to; it just so happens that i am so drunk what's left of my brain refuses to process any argument that has to keep sensitivity and self-preservation the victors. drunk, even without the influence of alcohol and such things that make people forget who they are and what they are here for- like some people i know.

and, so unlike these people- who presently have gone off to some (very, very less) obscure bars for the much-wanted but less-needed elixir made of carbon, hydrogen and oxygen- i am discovering something that they will never, ever, ever come close to knowing- which leaves me feeling so overwhelmed by the fact that i am feeling so overwhelmed by an overwhelming fact. baby, i am dancing in landmine country!

as if it isn't enough that my heart is in itself a time bomb, waiting for time to run out?

now, out i go in the cold of the night, under a blanket of starry skies...

distractions

funny.

and i mean, funny funny, not funny haha- that i did not think too much of gregg and our complex interactions when i was whiling time and the cough away in camarines sur, with friends from work. most of the time, it was p who kept my mind occupied- the nerve of a stranger to impose on me and my thoughts, no? and more nerves of me to have allowed the bastard to.

as if i can help it?

speak of help, i'm thinking i need less of it now in trying to keep gregg out of my system. he is gradually falling off it (pat on the back, pat on the back). p was making sure of it- he'd better, as i am slowly creeping into poverty and death (shudders) just to hear him say my name. hahaha. think about taking a cup of coffee worth some people's 3-meals-a-day package, twice or thrice a day, especially when you should avoid coffee, per doctors' instructions (understand that we're also talking about medications alongside it)! the heart has a mind of its own, really, and the stomach is the least of its concern.

hey, 'concern' rings a bell. i wonder if chuck is concerned about my feelings when he sometimes just looks at me- no "hello's", no smiles (even when it's expected of him)- when i stand before him, in all my splendor and glory (just a thought- if it was 'naked' splendor and glory, would his countenace and attitude change?). i wonder if he regrets not making me feel so special and loved (hahahahaha!) moments after he acts sooo uppity and standoffish. i wonder what makes him smile and call me by name (the not-so-famous one) sometimes; and i also wonder if he knows that i lose the will to breathe when he does that? he makes me wonder, no? hahahahahahahaha!

i don't think i'm in love; i'm shopping, dear.

succumb

i try not to think about him, so i cannot write about him.

i fail, obviously. it's like not thinking about living. not thinking about what to eat, what to wear, where to go, when to sleep, who to talk to. it's unthinkable! if only he can be unthinkable! but alas, my poor heart cannot survive a day, or an hour even, without the nourishing thought of him. as it is, i am already half-dead as i compose this post, dead some minutes ago, and revived by his pictures in friendster some seconds ago (and counting).

i love looking at his pictures. he looks like some spoiled brat who wouldn't think twice about throwing tantric fits if deprived of all that he wants. and i wish, i'm part of those wants. tee-hee. wishful thinking never hurts.

what hurts is the fact that in his pictures, winnie is there with him too, smiling, mocking me for having fallen in love with the man he owns...

aaargh!

i die again.