Wailin' and Teeth Gnashing

I hate this.

God, I hate being sick. I become needy, weepy, whiny and all-round major bitch.

I have all sorts of theories why I am sick, ranging from "my leg is infected inside and its festering beneath the skin" to "I think there was something wrong with the apple I ate earlier - yes, I know it was delicious but maybe there was some sort of virus in it."

I have also pondered on the possibility that I have dengue or maybe I haven't taken a bath yet and I smell like shit, so I am getting sick. This theory was blown to   kingdom come after I took a bath, popped a 500 mg paracetamol in my mouth and ended up staring at a thermometer which said, "Yeah, stupid. You're still sick."

I have also theorized that I need some bow-chika-wow-wow from the man who impregnated me twice, but that's too much info for you right, so I'll give you some time to swallow that little vomit you have in your mouth right now.

I am not thinking straight. I am sick, goddamnit. I don't get sick unless Death has decided to check up on me. He did that for the first 21 years of my life, that impotent son of a bitch. That's his MO when it comes to yours truly. And I think he plans to visit me every decade or so.

Oh well. I should stop this and resume whining and crying. 🔫

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Deluge

This place never fails to bring forth a torrent of bittersweet memories. I spent 8  years of my life here. I built friendships here. I met some of the most amazingly unique people I know in this place - brilliant people who helped me discover things about myself that I didn't know. I became my own person here. I fell in love here - twice in fact! And 'tis here too that I had my heart broken.

It's the same, but not the same every time I step foot in this place.  I can almost imagined seeing myself and my friends clad in that white blouse, tight gray skirt and gray tie which for the life of me, I can never seem to fix just right.  Law years didn't create as much impact; although there were people who did.

The memories can be crushing sometimes that I find myself only too happy to step out of its gates. There's only enough memories I can handle.

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Define Happiness

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More Riley Moments

Me: Riley, hain ka?!?!

Riley: Yaon po ako digdi ki Lita (referring to her Lola Lita)

Riley singing: Ang lubot ni papa perpek. Ang lubot ni papa perpek.

Me: Ba, nadangug mong sabi??

Riley continued: Ang bulay na mabata! Ang bulay na mabata!

Me: Erbe!!!!! Sabi ko na kaya saimo dai ka magparasabing bulay!!!

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Big Foot

I detest, despise, abhor and hate my feet. They're big and ugly, incredibly ugly. I bet they look like Big Foot's feet.  In fact, I think his feet look dainty compared to mine. Yes, dainty!

Big Foot will probably laugh his ass off if he'd see how dainty his feet look next to mine.  His feet will inspire odes and poems. Mine will inspire nightmares. I exaggerate but you get the drift, right?

Ignore the picture, you should see the sheer horror for yourself.

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