Off.

Click.
Clickity-click-click.

Obsessive compulsion.
Doofus Exponential.

Vandalism. Penned by an author unknown.

Penned. by some another guy.

When nothing is ever original, defy. Defy definition.
Defy convention.

Learn to just damn learn.
We don't pay thousands for a piece of paper.

Click.
Phase shift.
Nothingness.

Draft

If only writing could daze.
If only writing could seize the mind, arrest. Seize.
If only writing could prompt seizures. Seize.
If only. Yeah. If only.

If only writing could charm. Daze.
If only writing could do more than just bore. Seize.
If only writing could...
(kunyari na DC)

Youch.

Ouch. Grr. Grr. Grr. Grr. Ouch ulit.

Ang kasangkapan ng pitong kalangitang itim na tumatakbo sa dapithapon ng kaarawan ni BUddha.

Ubo.
Ako ay umuubo.
Nagtatanong.
Naghihingalo.
Kumaripas ng takbo. Takbo lang.

Isa-isip ang kadiliman.
Kalangitan.
Umaapaw ng mga tala, tahimik.
O kay tahimik.

Isa-isip ang isang basahan, basa
At tumutulo.
Puno ng pawis, ng dugo.

Isa-isip ang tumatakbo.
Hubad.
Maitim.
Nag-iisa.
Isipin ang kalangitan.
Tahimik. O kay tahimik..

Sadyang masaklap ang kapalaran.

Isipin and salitang "May."

Ipares ito sa "Kapal."

Isipin si Bathala.
Isipin ang Diyos.

Isipin ang Kaniyang kamay na walang magawa.
Tak-tataktak-tak.
Isipin ang kanyang mga daliri. Nagsusulat.
Gumagawa.

Isipin ang salitang "martilyo".
Ipares sa "pako."

Isipin ang salitang "Paa, Mabigat."
Ipares sa "Langgam."
Ipares sa "Ipis."
Ipares sa "Bangkay."

Isipin ang kalangitan. Tahimik. O kay tahimik.

Maaaring ganito ang pagiging Diyos.
Maaaring "Ipis."

Ikaw ang husga.

My lips can't speak what the moonis trying to vanquicsh in the middle of the dark howling sky's moulin rouge.

Fight Club all over again.

I want her.
She wants the other guy.
But, the other guy doesn't want me.
He wants her, too.

I think.

Asterisk space "CHOKING, VOMITING" space Asterisk

(In writing,) When you realize you've lost, or on your way to losingdom, don't bother with the plot. Bother with the characters, the "other guy."
Annoy.
Pest.
Make him insecure.
Make everyone else lose.

Besides, the only reason why we ask people about their problems is so we realize
1. how oh, so very pleasantly, happily, good. our lives are.
2. so we get comforted.

in this world, every man is for himself.
for his mouth.
for his you know what.
for his stomach.
his 'form.'

our own personal time capsule.
Oh yah. Very much Oh yah.

Imagine a thought bubble.
See yourself typing.

Wet hair falling oh, so perfectly above the eyes, dripping.
Eyes. Heavy. Transparent. Un-there.

There is a kind of light that makes dark men fair. And fair men perfect.

Hands. Scrammering. Elgapatating. Sinuing.
Meaninglessness. Vagueness.

This is how it must feel to be God.

This is writing. Without thinking.
Summarize whole lives in a book.
Simplify a whole day in a blog post.

Make the whole world a piece of paper.

Tra-la-la-lala-lala.. Ooohh.. Ooohh.
Tra-la-la-lala-laal.. Ooohh.. Oohhh.
Drum beat.
Fade. Fade.

sanitarium.

Imagine a cow run over by a pedestal pierced by and infamous lesbian goat-deer hybrid.
THink of the word 'torrent.'

YEah.
INsanity irrElevant.

I am just bad news. And yes, I am a liar. Strike Four.

I am simply a narrator.

You shall be my main character.
Force yourself to believe you are the main character.
And force yourself hard. Real hard.

Maybe this is what it feels like to be God.

This is how it feels to write.

My faith is wavering.

Sadly, my sword has been crushed. My anthem has been silenced. My class has been dissolved.

We are born, when born is loosely used, we are born idealists.
Perfection.
Unique.
Ideal.

As we grow older, we learn how stupid we are. We realize how too much faith and love and care and hope is simply, and not just simply, stupid.
"Assoholic."

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Expect the damn worst. Not the damn 'worse.'

Do not assume.
In the words of Thomas Harris's Jack Crawford,
"When you assume, you make an ASS out of U and ME." and mostly, yourself.

You realize how, lost you are.
You comfort yourself by the thought someone cares for you.

Then you see her hands clenched. Eyes locked. Locked. Stunned. Incapacitated.

You then comfort yourself with how young you are.
"Age. Maturity. Life is a dream. Oh yah."

Then a sixteen-year old graduates summa cum laude.
three cheers for irony.

You then lose faith. Aww. How sad. Tragic, really.
But then again no one cares. Why should they?

Pull a lever. Push a button.
Everyone's too busy feeding themselves.

Zoom out. Fade to black. The counterstrike fade to black.
The one where you see your dead body. The victory spray paint. The blood. The stolen gun.
Ah. your very own emo video.

Have an epiphany. Realize how you so damn hate the damn word. Realize how you try to maintain the Godly image by only using damn. not fucking, not shitty, just damn.

Use the word realize again and again. For continuity. Whatever the hell it means.


This is not angst.
This is not pain.
This is reality. However angsty and painsy it sounds.
Hell do i care.