on what's really happening...

+i've been eating ice cream alone in my apartment. i enjoy buying vegetables at the grocery. i cry at the slightest provocation of child abuse. my life has been a limbo of odds and ends. things aren't happening not as expected or planned but something has to happen. people are a bit harsh on words. somebody can scald me to death with those conjectures but somehow nothing's really happening.

+ my brother texted that i shouldn't go to our old house because everybody is on the new house in bulacan. even the cat. i haven't got to see the house my Mom built. i have so many excuses for not going home which reflects my excuses for what's really happening. poodrahbel started to plant trees around the new house which we used to do way back. I can't even hold a leaf nowadays. I can't even push myself to run around the oval. I'm not as excited when buying new panties.

+hubby lost all his numbers in his phone. That was a valid reason. I can't even push my fingers to identify myself in his text as he asked who i was since his phone lost my number. I see that I am reduced to numbers. This has become too tiring. I allowed myself to become just a number.

+As i was reduced to numbers by that man, I am just a freaking code in the human resources dept. So, now they think i don't get fucking tired? You see me as just a code waiting to be encoded. Honey, if you feel my wrist, I have a pulse. I have feces as pungent as yours. I am a fucking natural resource. Now do your job saving humanity as you are fondly called the human resources officer.

+i have ugly thoughts. this is not me. i have been unkind to people who are 'unkind'. I have always had this mantra: Kapag binato ka ng bato, batuhin mo ng tinapay with orange juice. I have to get my groove back. I can't even feel it's Christmas not until my face was mauled by a Christmas tree just this morning. I should get my groove back.