Word Salad 3.4

Two weeks since my last post. Too many things have happened, too many thoughts have blundered my mind, just too many. And I was blank most of the time within that span of duration. Even right now, as I type these random words (just so I could update my blog), I am as blank as Kirsten Stewart, my facial expression... expressionless (and yes, Karen, I still can't believe what I did at Aura, all the more with the fact that dancing is one of the very few things that could stimulate my facial nerves into producing humane facial expressions, of which I presumed before I wasn't capable of).

But I'm back to reality, facially emotionless and flat :|

And beyond my superficial facade dwells a labyrinth of puzzles, questions, and of course, sex--okay, don't mind the last one. You see, I am preoccupied lately with a lot of questions in my head that seemed to bombard my feeble mind seamlessly. And the hardest part is I don't know which of these endless questions I should answer first--let alone finding the answers. On the brighter prospect, these questions, which we seek answers to, which add meaningfulness to our existence, are definitely what makes life life. That continues to stun our mere, helpless beings with uncalled for mindfucks.

"Oh well, that's life." Indeed. Any questions?

On Singles Awareness Day

It's that time of the year again. Valentine's Day. Bitter Singles Awareness Day.

Being single on this hallmark holiday, I thought I was going to drown myself in bitterness. Then, gasp for air--breath--and stare at all the happy couples with all their flowers, chocolates, and crap. And singlehood would pull my untouched body deeper into the depths of bitterness.

But swear to God, I'm not bitter. Slight? Perhaps.

That's why I've attended the Nary Lala & Co.'s Singles Lunch today, which was supposedly held at Afrique's Robinsons, but since all the love birds had to infest almost all restaurants in the mall and the rest of the city, we, singles--happy singles, to be specific--had to evacuate and relocate to another venue. Mooon Cafe. It was a good decision, considering that our single stomachs were full and contented after a laughter-filled pig-out session with fellow full-pledged singles. We laughed at random jokes, we laughed and made fun of the happy couples we familiarly know, we laughed more with everyday delinquencies, everyday singleness, everyday still-at-risk-of-dying-a-virgin condition, but we laughed most while making fun of all the happy couples.

Sounds like a successful lunch gathering for (bitter) singles on a Valentine's day.

But as the day ended, when all my fellow singles have gone home, I was left alone to rekindle with this progressive disease condition, like an IgE-mediated hypersensitivity reaction, wondering when I'll savor my much-awaited desensitization ritual--that someday I will be able to face an antigen, whom I presumed I will never have any form of contact with, fortunately not sensitized, no inflammatory mediators to stop me, still breathing normally and a stable immune functioning with no clinical manifestations of an expected anaphylactoid reaction.

To put it in simpler terms, I ask myself when I'll have that strength to defy gravity and move beyond the boundaries of physics that pull me into this blackhole of singlehood. 

To my fellow singles, don't give up just yet. Someday, we'll be lest vengeful once we partake on a real Valentine's Day complete with the sudden rush of sex hormones and an empty wallet spent on flowers, chocolates, and other crap. That Valentine's Day will no longer be an intangible hypothetical concept or an illusionary fragment of our subconscious need for love or lust.

Someday. But for the mean time, let's toast to Bitter Singles Awareness Day, to our unbounded flirting activities and promiscuous nights. Happy Bitter Singles Awareness Valentine's Day!

Manny Pacquiao in MTV Cribs

No way o_o 
Post script: Thank you theslapshocker (Jonalyn's loverboy) for sharing this vid in her plurk post.

Mindfucked

Hello, February. And it's been more or less than a week since I last blogged. To wrap up what my week of blog abstinence had become, I could say that my life has gradually evolved into a futile form of boredom. I don't go out of the house that much, which reminds me btw, I should have had jogged earlier with JM today at Bike Road, but since I am currently recuperating and compensating for the productivity I have poured into my nth nursing process yesterday, I instead planned to chill and stalk people online the whole afternoon.

On the other hand, I was, surprisingly, in the mood to go out. Was. Seven hours ago.

I planned to visit my ex-bestfriend's house due to the fact that I sort of miss her, but mostly because I miss her 55-year-old yaya more than her. Lol sounds weird but I have to admit. Her yaya makes a better friend than my ex-bestfriend. And every time I had the opportunity to phone her, she's usually out (dating with her boyfriend pffffft), but fortunately, her yaya is there to save the day and accommodate the time to have a quick update of what has become of my miserable life.

And as expected, my gut feeling was right. She was indeed out. So there goes my motivation to escape this damned sedentary lifestyle.

Maybe she did that on purpose. You see, I had quite an adventure last night. Believe it or not, I was able to remember at least seven of my dreams. And to my content, I was also able to manipulate most of these dreams pseudoconsciously (some of them into sexual encounters of course lol). To have a clearer perspective of what I'm talking insensibly about my sci fi-like nocturnal experience, think of corporate espionage-thief Dom Cobb of Inception (chos!).

And of these seven dreams, I had this one specific dream that involved my ex-bestfriend's bed and me. And my ex-beastfriend in between (wahahaha). But swear to God, I didn't pre-planned that one. And I also have these other extremely weird dreams which also involved people from my current life, like Yhe, Meynard, Dobel, Aien, Vincent to mention a few. And no, it wasn't a sex-spree orgy.

And if my Inception theory was proven correct, then my hunch that her dreaming of the exact same thing may be the reason why my bestfriend didn't answer any of my calls this morning. That, or I'm just paradoxically mindfucking my own brain.

Hopefully, I could go Inception-dreaming later. For the mean time, I need to wake up and embrace reality. By reality I mean school crap that needs a lot of embracing.