between boredom and insanity

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about

so you've walked through these pages
and i must tell you some of the things
you'll read here will disturb you...
but it sure will get you thinking
if you don't like what you reaad,
feel free to shut the f*ck up!

you think you know me

clearly, you're mistaken!
you don't know a thing about me
and before you ask, i won't bother to explain
there's more to me than meets the eye

so drop the f*cking labels...it bores the hell of me
leave me alone and we'll get along just fine

say what?

you have got to see these

advent .:. bulitas
chinggay .:. chuayjai
dextrose .:. harris
kingdaddyrich .:. kitty
markus .:. mr. schizophrenic
ronderf .:. roni_bats
torpe-girl .:. yuki

as it was written

the yin and the yang of it all

fornication under the consent of the king

blast from the past

credits

faded
dn angel dreams
goo goo dolls
blogskins
blogger

Monday, January 03, 2005

random conversation

location: pier one, subic
time: one'ish in the morning
background music: superstar
number of beers taken: 5
number of other mixed drinks taken: 7
number of cigarettes smoked: lost count at 15
total bill: 1,500 (cheap no!)

Deb: "It pains me to see you like that."
Cookie Monster: " Like how?" (Looks out at the sea)
Deb: "That!" (Traces the outline on my body with both hands)
Cookie Monster: "What do you mean?" (Denial is after all sweet!)
Deb: "You know what I mean. You of all people deserve to be happy." (Lights her nth cigarette)
Cookie Monster: "Tell that to whoever holds our fate." (Puffs smoke from my nth cigarette)
Deb: "F#$%^&*, you know you can be happy. You just have to choose it."
Cookie Monster: "Wait a minute! Are you saying I choose to be miserable."
Deb: "No! Nothing like that! What I mean is....ahhh! You're impossible you know that?"

I have just relived one of the most awakening conversations of my life. This got me thinking. Is being happy as easy as choosing it to be? If it is, why is there so much misery in the world? It makes more sense when we think of happiness as something elusive like the Holy Grail. At least, somebody other than our selves are miserable (misery really loves company, eh?). But what if it is, as Deb puts it, really as easy as choosing it to be? Is my misery proof of my masochism? A part of myself that actually enjoys being in pain?

(A/N: Kay bago-bago na taon ganito post ko! Hay naku! Hayaan na po! Angst ata ang theme ng blog na 'to e.)

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