Everybody seemed to feel ok today. Except for me.
Today I... crammed a formal report, was absent for the lab class, got the result of my exam, ate lunch in school, listened to the lecture, flunk the exam, took some notes in Math, rode a jeep, and went home.
How many times have I convinced myself not to study in vain for exams?
Countless.
How many times have I not allowed myself to be convinced?
Countless.
Why do people find me so indifferent and yet, they would still try to talk to me and try to be nice to me when in fact, they can just as easily leave me alone, pretend I'm invisible, instead of throwing those funny looks at me?
Or keep on asking why I don't watch TV?
Or why I dont know this movie or that song which is so popular today?
Why would I give a damn on those ---
Did you know that Kikomachine comics Vol. 2 is already out in the market?
I still haven't found Stefan's book.
Although I finally grabbed a copy of Chris Martinez's Laugh Trip.
And a favorite author of mine is now a highschool Math teacher in Brooklyn.
They're all so cool.I might as well just die.
I couldn't finish a paper due two weeks ago.
Because I couldn't start.
I couldn't see what i'm trying to point out. It seems to me I write as if I'm a God. I sound like a know-it-all. And lately, vindictive.
So this afternoon while having my lunch on a favorite canteen ---
Well, I'm back to being glutton. Blame it on that book.
I hate you Nancy! Why did you bore your little Nancy? Look, she's got me on my nerves for an entire week. She's mad. She's one hell of a crazy kid. And I liked her a lot.
--- I finally came up to a realization.
I feel like I couldn't stand my phoniness in writing anymore. I wanted to write. To really write. To write right.
I made myself believe I could write. Those were the long years of bull. And now I regret it. Really, really regret it.
They find me indifferent because they all look/act/talk/think the same.
I wish they'd think of me as a threat and that I should be feared. I'm telling you, if I become a President of a nation, I'm going to order a mass murder. To get rid of all the eyesores - obese, smokers, social climbers, poseurs, racists, plagiarists, hypocrites, reckless drivers, polluters, jaywalkers, pedos, rapists, whores, smugglers... and the list goes on.
Simoun is to be ressurected.
I'm sorry I can't be impassive forever. Something has to happen. No matter how harsh the idea.
Better said than dead.
Today I... crammed a formal report, was absent for the lab class, got the result of my exam, ate lunch in school, listened to the lecture, flunk the exam, took some notes in Math, rode a jeep, and went home.
How many times have I convinced myself not to study in vain for exams?
Countless.
How many times have I not allowed myself to be convinced?
Countless.
Why do people find me so indifferent and yet, they would still try to talk to me and try to be nice to me when in fact, they can just as easily leave me alone, pretend I'm invisible, instead of throwing those funny looks at me?
Or keep on asking why I don't watch TV?
Or why I dont know this movie or that song which is so popular today?
Why would I give a damn on those ---
Did you know that Kikomachine comics Vol. 2 is already out in the market?
I still haven't found Stefan's book.
Although I finally grabbed a copy of Chris Martinez's Laugh Trip.
And a favorite author of mine is now a highschool Math teacher in Brooklyn.
They're all so cool.I might as well just die.
I couldn't finish a paper due two weeks ago.
Because I couldn't start.
I couldn't see what i'm trying to point out. It seems to me I write as if I'm a God. I sound like a know-it-all. And lately, vindictive.
So this afternoon while having my lunch on a favorite canteen ---
Well, I'm back to being glutton. Blame it on that book.
I hate you Nancy! Why did you bore your little Nancy? Look, she's got me on my nerves for an entire week. She's mad. She's one hell of a crazy kid. And I liked her a lot.
--- I finally came up to a realization.
I feel like I couldn't stand my phoniness in writing anymore. I wanted to write. To really write. To write right.
I made myself believe I could write. Those were the long years of bull. And now I regret it. Really, really regret it.
They find me indifferent because they all look/act/talk/think the same.
I wish they'd think of me as a threat and that I should be feared. I'm telling you, if I become a President of a nation, I'm going to order a mass murder. To get rid of all the eyesores - obese, smokers, social climbers, poseurs, racists, plagiarists, hypocrites, reckless drivers, polluters, jaywalkers, pedos, rapists, whores, smugglers... and the list goes on.
Simoun is to be ressurected.
I'm sorry I can't be impassive forever. Something has to happen. No matter how harsh the idea.
Better said than dead.
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