regret, self-resentment

Sometimes, I do acts that are so irrational, so unfounded on any basis of what might make sense.

I hate my mind. I hate myself. I often do.

I was so angry myself and now it has degraded into a flooding regret, flooding my spirit like inky black water.

Some things can be undone.

I'm just clogged. And I am longing for forgiveness.

It's just beyond rational. It doesn't make sense.

I'm such an asshole.

This will never make sense.

rebirth

I love my life again. I'm on track again. Again, I found my personal rythm. Or It's as simple as a rythm. Considering the complexities, I feel like I am once again the conductor of this apparently discordant orchestra called existence.

What happened? I cleaned up my room. I can sleep in it again without fear of wild creatures. I no longer am Cro Magnon, I am Homo Sapiens. I am back to my evolutionary path. I say prayers again. I can think about life and smile again. I feel resolved to fulfill tasks I have procastinated for more than four weeks now. I am no longer addicted to TV. I have expunged my feeling of shame. I feel capable of empathy now. I feel that my mind is alive again. I am so supercharged I can electrocute anyone I touch. I look at a mirror and see myself, not some grotesque blob of organic mishaps. I smoke even less. I bought a pack last night and I am not even a third through it. I wake up mornings now, not noontime. I can hear birds chirping now, not the resounding groan of my slumbering spirit. I found the lyric core of my being, and I can hear the world again. This is what I lost for the past two weeks, my personal security. I have lost so much time, but I feel no regret.

I have simply been dying. I have died again. And I was reborn again. And this time God was there to deliver me. The earth smiles, too, because here I am, a healthy child. I'm gonna do sit ups again. I'm gonna maintain the order in my room. I'm gonna catch up on my reading. I'm gonna begin my spanish studies. I'll try to get in touch with my friends whom I have exchanged for Playstation, internet and boob tube episodes.

The ashes have vanished. The fire now blazes. The storm has passed, although the thunder still resounds. Illuminated, enlightened. The ubermensch is just around the horizon.

My personal mission? Stay alive. I can't afford to fall ill again, to my slow dying spells. I'm sick of "AGAINs.' It's about time it stopped.

It's just about Fkin time.

living?

When it's three AM and you still couldn't get some sleep. Take a shit.

It's just been slow. As if I have been dragging my whole ass to this minute of my life. It's not really depressing, but somehow, I can feel the oil on my forehead as vividly as the light of my monitor pricks my eyes. Yow.

I've been unable to touch smokes for three days now because of some nasty cold, from which I have fully recovered recently, so maybe I'm going to grab a cig or two. Make that three.

My lower back's aching. I've slipped down to this phase of mine where I hibernate, physically, emotionally, spiritually, intellectually, and whatever human faculty I can put to rest.

MAybe this is what Zen feels like. For a minute. I have no ambition, no desire, no sorrow, no pain, no regret, no hunger. Just a nagging feeling to take a shit. So maybe that's what I'll do.

Then the Zen will fade away.

I'll pay my credit card bills tomorrow. Without a job, it's not that pleasing a task. Whatever.

cycle

It's not easy to deserve,
But tis so easy to desire,
To flame with passion and want,
To pursue with abandon and foolishness,

And yet not deserve,
What parameters are there?
Why am I so parched?
When I am already drowning?

Why do I have to smash
Everything I create?
Why do I throw up?
When I ingest something delicious.

And yet why do I still desire?
And yet the answer is so simple,
So painstakingly clear,
I ask too many fucking questions.

Idle Humanity

This is it. I'm at the most dangerous phase of being a bum. I'm actually starting to love my life.

GAAAH!!

For one thing. I always have the feeling that I have dried up myself, but the truth is, my heart is so brimming of things to engage in but not enough things to engage in. It's a terrible feeling. It's like lighting a cigarette and then realizing you have actually lit up the filter.

I don't want to sound to whiny at this point. Because there isn't really much to whine about. There isn't much to whine about because there isn't much anyway. Sometimes I whine about not having much to whine about.

But I'm not to the part where I actually like this bum lifestyle. One of the few drawbacks is the fact the I'm not financially gifted. It's difficult to go out beholding all the commodities laid before me! It's like standing in front of a hot hot naked supermodel and not being able to make it stand up. (the analogy police will get me for this.)

Well, the fun parts? two weekends ago I was at Batangas. It was the most fun I had since a veeery long time. I don't just mean just recently long. I mean long long. That much fun. I also consider the fact that it was not a fun that lasted for a couple of hours only, It the kind of fun that's extended. Like, you get there Saturday morning at three, stay up, get into the fiesta slash parade thing, drink lots of booze, get wet, get home in the afternoon all tanned up(or maybe not tanned up for my case, I'm all browned up like some barbecued pork), chill out at the garden porch thingy, chill out till night, have dinner, sing some Videoke, and then fall asleep at the sofa.

To put it simply? Great food, Groovy people, lovely place, and unlimited booze.

I'd love to dive into the details but seriously, I've written too much already.

I've recently lost appetite in reading in writing. Which scares me a bit because at this point in my writing my heads already whooozing about, yup, that word has three O's on it.

On another note on, I have fallen in love with reggae. yeah. There's something about the music that makes my soul reverbate. The beats don't make you loop around, all you have to do is sway from side to side, close your eyes, and try to comprehend that sweet african-carribean english accent. Dig. The music speaks to your soul, and you feel it.

I also started swimming this past week. Swimming is sweet. I mean, it's wonderful to be in the water, especially in our kind of climate. And another thing, there's something in the wonder that just makes me feel different, it's like being in the womb or getting a snapshot of the evolution phenomenon. There's something about being in the water that I cannot fully articulate, the feeling is simply sublime when I glide through the water. Plus, I'm staying fit. Only this leisure has been cut short by my wallet getting stolen in the shower room at that pool. The details to that are gritty I still cringe at the thought of how it was stolen. And that's why I'm back to lifting weights again.

I see a lot of action, considering my status as a BUM. Like, one night I was at a bar with my friends, having the time of our lives! What we did this time was just drink and eat our time away. We ordered every drink on the menu. When it was time to pay the bill, i drew my credit card out of my wallet and handed it to the waiter.

And then my smile was wiped from my face faster than I wipe my ass.

My credit card was DECLINED.

Good thing we were regulars there, so we made some sort of arrangement that saved our asses.

The scariest part of all my Bumming days? Is that I'm starting to like television. I'm not kidding. I used to abhor the boob tube, the idiot box, or that rectangular device that gives off mind-absorbing radiations. Now, I check out the TV schedules to check out what's good and I know the time slots for my favorite shows! GAAH!

And I'm having one too many thoughts about romance. In all this bum-laden turmoil, midst all this freeloading, I feel exceptionally lonely.

Idle Humanity is the birthplace of many evils. And of world class GRoovin' too!!! oh yeah!

So tomorrow I'm off to Batangas again to eat drink and celebrate with my friends. Well, specifically, RJ with Kim and the rest of her family. so there.