to the man whose love has always seen me through

Bruised and totally beat up

i am tired.
once in a while this feeling of intense desperation comes creeping in, sending cold shivers to the already beat up soul. woke up this morning with a totally dim notion of life, of living, and of that dreadful curiosity of what is it like to be dead, to be entirely free of the concerns of the world, to simply lie with both hands laid in the chest as if to say i only have myself to care about, the same gesture that means indifference and of that resolute i dont care attitude.

i am tired.
i want to scream. i want to go somewhere far to a place where no one knows me, and no one wants to come near me. the leper shouts for understanding, the weary shouts for the same. the circumstances are different but the same piece of humanity from within the leper and the weary wants the same thing. understanding. in different contexts. i want peace, and quiet, and the understanding that i don't want any human contact as of the moment. i need peace. i need silence. somewhere in this crazy world, there must be that corner where there's just me and nothing else.

i am tired.
and i welcome rest. somewhere, somehow, there must be a place.

the count's going, high and fast

it didn't occur to me, not even once, that my life is a little interesting. while i have always felt that my own existence is special, an art of my own making, it always has been my perspective. only today i opened the visit count in livejournal and saw the number of my followers soaring.

so then my life is a story to some people and they have been following every chapter of it. of course they dont know me and i dont know them, that is the beauty in there, and they come from far away places. my readers are from different countries and they send comments, both good and bad, and sometimes are way too unacceptable. sometimes i get the urge to fight with them, or defend my side, but what the heck, the online diary does not tell them much about me. i might have poured out everything, heart and soul, but they will never get to see me, not even a chance to know my name so it is fine. at the end of the day, i still hold a private entity, registered in livejournal under a different name.

You Give Love A Bad Name

Shot through the heart and you're to blame
Darlin' you give love a bad name

An angel's smile is what you sell
You promise me heaven then put me through hell
Chains of love got a hold on me
When passion's a prison you can't break free

Oh! You're a loaded gun, yeah
Oh! There's nowhere to run
No one can save me
The damage is done

Shot through the heart and you're to blame
You give love a bad name
(Bad name)
I play my part and you play your game
You give love a bad name
(Bad name)
Hey, you give love a bad name

Paint your smile on your lips
Blood red nails on your fingertips
A school boy's dream, you act so shy
Your very first kiss was your first kiss goodbye

Whoa! You'€™re a loaded gun
Whoa! There'€™s nowhere to run
No one can save me
The damage is done

Shot through the heart and you're to blame
You give love a bad name
(Bad name)
I play my part and you play your game
You give love a bad name
(Bad name)
You give love, oh!

Oh! Shot through the heart and you'€™re to blame
You give love a bad name
I play my part and you play your game
You give love a bad name
(Bad name)

Shot through the heart and you'€™re to blame
You give love a bad name
(Bad name)
I play my part and you play your game
You give love a bad name
(Bad name)

You give love
You give love
(Bad name)
You give love
You give love
(Bad name)

You give love
You give love
(Bad name)
You give love
You give love

i love the Fockers

i badly needed a lift today. for some reasons unknown, i feel like sulking in the solitude of my newfound home. i love the quiet sun-filled room with its orange curtain and wood furnishings. reminds me of my davao home.

today i love being alone. but am meeting friends later so i need to change the mood. and for this sort of thing, meeting the fockers has always proved to be the best thing to do.