The Test

The biggest test of a good writer is when you have nothing to write about and you still manage to come up with something.
Apparently, I'm not a good writer.
I just keep on whining and writing about the same stuff. And frankly I'm getting sick of it.
If you were rude you'd tell me to "Get a life!"
If you were evil and you want me to get on the tracks of MRT and test my strength by stopping the train you'd say "She's not coming back, move on with your life"
If you were me you'd say "Life's a bitch and I'm the pimp"
If you were a good friend and you really know me you'd stop by our house and shout "Mokong, shawarma tayo!" [translation: "Moron, let's eat some holy stinking cow!] talk about being happy...
If you were my best friend and you know me better than the former you'd call me to pack my bags and say "Tara, Batangas tayo!" [translation: "Let's go country driving!"]
If I were you I'd just shut the hell up and not talk about her. (On the contrary, you can talk about country driving if you really mean it or else you'll just piss me off)
I will never be a good writer.

Rain fell at 12:13 pm

**11*09**

Tattooed on my mind

If someone would make an MTV about yesterday and I will get to choose the background song for it, it would definitely be D'Sound's mind tattooe service. I wonder how much that would cost.

Killing time is never fun, that is, if you know you're just killing time. Jeff and I had to walk on circles at Cubao and Galleria. ETA of his mom's plane wouldn't be till 2 pm and we still had 2 hours to burn.

So we walked on and on at the busy streets of Cubao. Looking for a good catch at the many ukay-ukays that the infamous Cubao housed. Then we decided to go to Galleria and just sit back at the movie house. When we got there it was already 12:30 so we both agreed on chasing the waters from the fountain and dropped the theater thing.

And I had the best time of my life window shopping for memories.

" one thing's for sure:
I'm all knocked out
spend too much time thinking of you"

it played in my head where ever we went.

We passed Cravings where we once ate. It seemed that where ever I looked I see her face and no matter how hard I try not to see her she just stayed in my eyes like she was actually there. And I missed her even more.

"now I know you're the dangerous kind..."

I miss the sound of her laughter, I miss the way her eyes get teary when she's laughing so hard, I miss walking with her, I miss her smile, I miss the way we make fun of the people we see. I miss feeling her next to me. I miss her voice. I miss eating pasta with her. And above all, I just miss her.

"and your smile is tattooed on my mind..."

All the more reason for me not to go to SM Manila and Robinson’s Place Ermita. That would be like walking into a black hole of memories.

"Oh, yesterday I was feeling safe
All I do today is trying to be brave
And no melody can seem to soothe my mind..."


I can't even stand seeing the Starbucks sign.

" and your face is tattooed on my mind
And I can’t get you out of my dreams..."

"yes I know that you're tattooed... on my mind you're tattooed.."

Rain fell at 2:11 pm