Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Weird.
The weirdest thing happened to me yesterday.
I was walking to work. I just came from the library. In my hand I held my flask of coffee, which I had been having since before I left the house.
If you don't know, I have to tell you that I take my coffee black as night and sweet as sin. No cream or milk. Just lots of coffee and lots of sugar.
Anyway, at the lib I opened this horrible email and I was upset when I left. Now, while I was walking, I thought I'd have some of my coffee. I felt that I could really use it and when I took a sip, it was bitter as hell. Bitter as hell.
Unbelievable.
When I was at the library it was sweet as hell. Then all of a sudden it was bitter as hell.
Okay. Two things:
- Bitter is the kind of taste *she* left in my mouth.
For some reason, I think that's why the coffee was suddenly so bitter. I can't explain it. But yeah. Our relationship ended so abruptly that it couldn't have been anything but bitter... - Bitter equals me.
Sorry and so sue me, but it's the truth. I'm bitter. At least I was yesterday. I don't know if there's anything in psychology that can explain how my feelings affected my taste but that's that.
Tell me to resist you and I promise to obey.
*sigh* Lord naman... Are you trying to be funny?
kitten posted @ 10:24 AM |
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Shush.
My heart is breaking. And it's so loud I'm afraid she'll hear.
So what if she hears? So what if she finally finds out how I truly feel about her? Isn't that where I am taking this anyway?
Not really.
*talks to heart* Be still, little one. Everything will be alright.
I am consumed by everything that I feel for her. I am so unbelievably swept away that I'm afraid I'll drift off and find myself lost. Worse, without her.
She makes me smile, throw my head back in laughter and just surrender completely to whatever lies ahead. But she plays with my feelings, she hurts me, and she makes me cry...
She's just like me. Maybe a little too like me...
"There is a land called Passive-Aggressivo and I am their queen."
Labels: feelings
kitten posted @ 10:53 AM |
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Stories I Owe
Thursday, September 14, 2006
One word: Wow.
Before I give my kudos, I must first tell you the story.
My cousin Carlo has been bugging me about Gil because he apparently thinks Gil is gay. If I've told him once, I told him a million times to stay out of Gil's business. If Gil is indeed gay, it's not like it makes him less of a person. Right? Right.
Now, my cousin has never had the opportunity to ask Candace (who, I might mention, is bi) whether she really is bi, and whether Gil is gay. He cornered Candace that day, behind the refrigerated showcase and asked her. Now, I know this because Candace came up to me and told me about how rude my cousin was being. I felt really bad, and I apologized on his behalf.
I didn't notice Gil because he's usually loitering all over the store but when he finally came up behind the showcase, where my cousin was standing, I didn't think any of it.
Not until Gil came up to Carlo and said You gotta problem with me? And my cousin said something like Yeah coz you're a f*cking fag. Then everything happened so fast... There was shoving. And punching. And lots and lots of screaming. Gil even picked up a chair and he was about to hit Carlo with it but, thank God, Sir Ray intervened (and to think even Sir Ray is, you know, fruity.) and stopped the fight. Sort of. Gil was still yelling If you ever call me a fag again, I'm going to f*cking kill you.
That wasn't the end of it. At least not for Gil. Emilee told him to go home; he was really upset. (I would be too, honestly.) Candace and I walked him out of the store and he was going I'm going to get a friggin' bat and I'm going to beat the sh*t out him. Uber scary. But we talked him out of it. It was a bad idea. Besides, if you beat everyone who says something bad about you, you'd spend your life beating people up.
Now, kudos to Gil for standing up for himself. It has been nearly a week, but I still feel that he did the right thing. My cousin was asking for it, and he got it. Serves him right. Go Gil!!!
...
*sighs* No words. Just *closes eyes* this feeling that you give me...
Okay, tanong: Kapag ba lasing ang tao sinasabi nila kung ano yung totoo nilang nararamdaman?
Ewan ko ba. Di na ako natuto. Bakit kasi nakikipagkaibigan ako sa mga taong umiinom. Pero ayun na nga. Bwiset. Sakit sa ulo.
(Talking on cellphone. * is on the train from Bayonne.)
KITTEN: [checks if the cellphone batteries are dead] Hello?
*: What happened?
KITTEN: I thought I lost you.
*: Never.
(Still on cellphone. * is now in Downtown Jersey City.)
KITTEN: [upset] What do you want me to do?!
*: Love me forever.
KITTEN: [even more upset] What?!
*: Love me forever.
I'm tired of emotional rollercoaster rides. This set-up: it's convenient but it isn't easy. And there is no way I can tell you that it's not working for me without scaring you away...
Help.
Then again, as the French say it, aide toi!
Labels: feelings, love, stories
kitten posted @ 12:22 PM |
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Pag-ibig 101 and Others
Gusto kong iumpog ang ulo ko sa pader. 'Di nga. Gusto kong ihampas ng ihampas ang noo ko sa dingding hanggang sa madurog ito ng parang kamatis na bulok. Ayus.
Angry?
No. Actually, I'm happy, very happy. So happy, in fact, that I think I shouldn't be happy at all. Weird. But then again I really am weird. So I guess this is normal.
They say when you close your eyes, think about the one you like/love, and you find yourself smiling, that's how you know they like/love you back.
I am competitive. I am obsessive. I am meticulous. I am passionate.
"Personally, I thought you were doing a pretty good job... I don't think you should give up just yet..."
Hep-hep-hep. This is not about work. Nuh-uh.
Para kaming kinder. Ang cute tapos ang kulit. Tapos ang gulo pero ang ayos din. Basta. Para ngang kinder.
Kanina ko pa tinititigan yung pictures niya. [Stalker, diba? Pero hindi. Kasi siya ang nagsend sa'kin ng pictures na yun. Feeling niya naman gusto ko ng pictures niya. Then again, gusto ko naman talaga ng pictures niya. Pero feeling parin. Di naman ako humingi eh. Hmp.] Anyway, ayun. Ang day-off ko ginagamit ko sa pagtitig sa pictures niya. Saya. *insert sarcasm here* Sali kayo. :)
Ayan.
The end.
Will you fall in love with the perfect person? If he had the right kind of hair or the softest lips or the most amazing body body; if he always said the right things at the right time; if he held doors open for you and gave you his jacket when it's cold; if he read you poetry when you're sick and brought you flowers just because; if he did well in school and still found time to volunteer; if he never missed a single day of Mass; if he sat through your chick flicks and handed you tissues when you started to cry; if he took care of the potted plant you gave him; if he called when he said he would and called even when he said he couldn't; if he walked you home everyday; if he listened to everything you said like they were the most important things he'd ever hear; if he loved you unconditionally, with all of himself and despite himself, would you love him too?
What if an imperfect person came along? The person treats you like crap; never wears the clothes you want him to wear; ignores you when you say you want the last slice of pizza. But always holds your hair back when you throw up, because he knows how it is to be hung over; never hesitates to tell you that you look fat, so that you don't have to go outside of the house looking like... *shivers*; calls you Love because that's who you are to him; gets a tattoo but covers it up for you when you're somewhere dressy; doesn't listen to a thing you say because he doesn't need to. Will you fall in love with him?
A lot of things about you bother me. But what can I say? There are just no words.
kitten posted @ 12:14 PM |
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Rarr.
This is my blog and God knows I'm allowed to rant here.
Who is that 'anonymous' person, huh? I mean. God. Talk about something totally uncalled for. And he didn't have the courage, nor the decency, to leave his name. He's making me so effing mad. F*ck it. I don't even care. I so don't care I'm not even going to bother deleting that post.
Okay. New rule: If you don't know me, and you're reading this blog and everything in it, please, PLEASE, don't stick your nose into my business. You don't see me sticking my nose in yours, do you? And if you'll be kind enough (for the lack of a better word) to leave a comment or post, tell me your name, Stranger. Because I hate not knowing who knows my what (Didja get that?). And more importantly, I hate strange taggers giving me advice like it's any of their business what I do. But I do appreciate you stopping by and even bother to type something up in my tagboard. I just hafta draw the line somewhere. It's just not right for you to give unsolicited advice like that. Not to me. No, sir.
Know what? F*ck it. People make me so mad sometimes.
This blog is my one and only emotional sanctuary. Feelers are not welcome.
I don't want to run past you. But somehow, I'm getting the feeling I already have. I can actually see you holding everything I am and everything I have at the palm of your hand. I am at your mercy.
"Be careful, or my paper heart will bleed."
kitten posted @ 12:45 PM |
