SHITE!

Had a date with my shannyboo one gloomy saturday. Old and close friend from our college org. We went to a mall to buy some stuff he needed for his collection of gundam toys---whatever that was. In between jeepney rides from Quiapo and queueing lines at the ATM, I spoke to him how gloomy and friggin sad this day was for me. How i felt hazed and dazed about my current state in the world and then he started talking about the missus.

At an age of confusion, he was thinking of getting married. We always thought about getting laid and doing circus acts and seizing the day and watching films and now he thought about getting married. He had qualms about it, with the girl. He talked of past things that was never brought up between him and her and illustrated it to me like they were lego toys deconstructed and put away by a maid in the closet. Now, he wants to get hold of that deconstructed lego and construct it.

PAST IS PAST

That was the topic. But before we went to that, he suggested for my current issue of gloom, that i take E. As in that passe drug gulped up by artistas in bars so that they get that psychedelic feeling of euphoria and up to the minute shots of artificial endorphin.

Who? ME? Artista? No, dammit, the drug. Ok.

He described the feeling. If you're wallowing in self-destruction, this makes you feel that the world is one big haute couture. Well, I can have that feeling with chocolate only that this screaming sadness is way too much for my cocoa to handle . He knew someone whom I can ask to buy for me. Turns out, that the guy he was talking about was the one i had the most wonderful past with.

Of course its ok to talk about him. He's no persona non grata to me, although he declared that to himself for about a month. What's with the past anyway? I almost tried to end my life and stoop to the lowest level becasue of that shit. I got reed and drug-addict thin because of that shit. I had the greatest performance by a hurt human being because of that shit. I became such a pathetic drunkard and alcoholic beacuse of that shit. Eventhough I know he went on shitting for a month in his shitty cave for some shitty girl. I went on and plundered shitty people.

That shit has a special house in the village of my heart.

With lace curtains and heater and a nice cofee maker.

Some shit, eh?

Past is past. Past is shit.