UNBOUND

> woke up with my pores today. we don't have decent curtains so the sun really gave a blast on my eyes. somehow i felt i could be blinded and that was the first time i felt that after living and waking up in the same apartment for months now. perhaps the sun was saying something. wake up honey, you'll be surprised. kitch lay  perpendicularly splat on the floor, she doesn't look as blinded as me. i checked on the mirror to see if a new pack of zits are there to behold. and then i smiled at myself. funny, i had this mischievous grin as if i had great sex last night. No sex last night. It was better than that.

>reggae nights at timog is much anticipated with our sabog dance at xaymaca. kitch and i were avid followers of puto and irene--band members and friends alike.  We had to let go. Ourselves. Our money. Our movement. Our minds. Our skirts. It was the rule, a sub-concious manifesto for people flocking that sanctuary. Damn, just let go.  Suddenly, I saw the Hubby. Kitch said i was too conscious. I was happy to feel bound that night. To break the rule. To not let go. I was with the Hubby and I was bound to him. San Miguel really has wonders for bridging unkowns and loners.  Gush moments similar to the high I get from cocoa fluttered while i was consciously dancing. I let go of my eyes and shoulders just to feel the limits that i have at that exact moment. We were inseparable. Limits weren't that bad. I never felt this free. 

>What an unfamiliar morning. The sun almost hurt my eyes. I guess nature has a way of telling you if someone has disturbed your personal ecosystem. A natural disturbance. Mother Nature is conniving once again. We'll figure out if it's towards or against me. Meanwhile, pores are slowly in absentia. Must be my Nivea Creme.