I just screamed.

I feel better now. And the urge to punch someone in the ovary or pull her innards out through her nostrils is already gone. Screaming is really the best way to stop myself from going bonkers. But if you wanna scream your brains out too, be sure the room is sound proof. You don’t want people calling the cops and thinking you had just been raped.

I don’t usually have this killing urges. If I get angry I bottle it up until it explodes like C4. But what happened now zoomed beyond my hate meter. And I could not just bottle it up and refrain myself from cussing and ranting. I have to scream, rage, and explode till every bad vibes wiggles out of my system.

What happened was a bureaucratic twaddle between two different life forms. It was a clash. A clash between the paragon of excellence and the victim of mediocrity and a faulty system. And I was the victim. I was the one caught between the faulty system. I could not move. If I wanted to get out, I had to go through the paragon of excellence and accept whatever she says. If I get out alive, it means I am no longer an entity to her.

What triggered my emotions were the godawful things she said. I know she has all the right in the world to verbally douse me with ugly things, but then again, I have feelings too, you know. I have talked to her a million times and after every confrontation I always felt defeated and deprived. I never heard a comforting word from her, though I expected something like that but it never happened. I could not stop her from labeling me a liar, or a dishonest creep, or a fool. I could not stop her if she wanted me to suffer. And when we drown in each other’s retina, I suddenly feel scared and unprotected, but I could not do a thing. I was figuratively buried to my neck while a hungry dog tore the flesh on my forehead. I was letting her gnaw me because I was useless with her presence.

The world is continuously breeding people like her. People who would ferociously gobble up somebody else’s honesty and turn them into one of their kind. Power driven life forms who have been constantly dominating the world of those who do not possess the same power such as theirs.

I have been in this Catholic Institution for almost 15 years and it is sad to say people like her exist. It is very ironic because we are in a catholic institution that teaches us how to respect each other, but the people who have authority over us and who are our paragons are the ones who spawn mediocrity and disrespect. Students do what they say. Students say what they want to hear. Students are defeated and deprived. *screams again*

Our institution should uphold its Janssen values, like what they always say. The superiors must not only eye the students for their misconducts but also ogle at themselves if their values have been iffy too. 

And in the end, I have learned that sometimes there is no reciprocity in respect. That saying the truth means being labeled as a liar. That in an institution that upholds excellence lies irony. 

Lover, you seem distant.

Sorry if I look so beautiful today. Maybe it's because I am wearing my happy shoes. Haha!
But the glances, dude, stop it.

Let's go back to the world where ice cream won't make us fat...

Suddenly I had this horrible feeling like being stabbed on my eyeballs for reasons I do not know. Suddenly I feel sad. Suddenly I saw myself sobbing while cussing and ranting. Between sobs I saw myself as a crumbling fool.


But I am okay. Deleting you on my social networks really makes me feel better. I should have done it in the past. I shouldn't have added you again. Eeek. And I know and I'm sorry if I am acting this way and sorry if I think you are an idiot. Sorry, but you are giving me reasons why I should call you that.

This shall be the end of everything. It's better to keep this way. I was always forgiving, kind and everything, but you weren't. I have feelings too, you know.

(Take two. IE got fucked up. Bravejournal does not save drafts automatically. Trying to be calm. Trying to cope with my angry brain cells.)

 Yesterday's report showed both my villages, Ragamumu and Ragamuff being attacked by power driven life forms while I was away for 2 days. And since I demolished some of my crannies to give space to the other buildings, my attackers got away with most of my resources. FTW! And now my reputation as one of the best resource keeper in my alliance is now stained with ugly reports. I was cussing while reading the reports to keep myself from hitting the monitor with my retreat souvenir. So I want to blame the retreat because I don't have any other things or people to blame. Fuck.

The retreat was.... lethargic. I can't think of any word to best describe the activity. The facilitator told us that the retreat was for us to relax and rest. So I did what he said. I relaxed and rested even during the sessions.  So basically, I was sleeping most of the time. (Was only following orders.) The facilitator too was kinda whimsical…no..she was not whimisical but I think she thinks that she is. She laughs at the end of every sentence. I always thought she’s a cretin from the moment I saw her laughing alone while eating the rice cake.

 The retreat was uhmmm…useless for me. Everything they said about loving each other, loving thy neighbors, loving thy god, helping each other out and making each other happy through unconditional love were totally crap. I am sorry but I am not palpable. I do not trust my heart because my heart is always biased. I trust my innards instead, because I know they would never betray me. LOL. Everybody there, except me, was foolishly sentimental. They cry even on the most not-so-emotional-stuffs. They cry because that is what retreats are for.  Retreats make you cry. Retreats make you feel bad. Retreats make you remember the evil things you did. Retreats make you feel you are sinful. Retreats make you think the world you’re living is cruel. And listening to instrumental music would not save you from hell.

I thought being confined in a very lousy environment would bring me to the gates of salvation. I thought that my heart would suddenly give in and pump Christian blood again. I thought my ears would never ever hear uncouth words. I thought my eyes would see the beauty of being moral, of being the paragon of justice, chastity, virginity, purity and prudence. I thought my mouth would open on its own as prissy words flow out from it. I thought my hands would stop touching the evilness of this world and instead create something out from love.

But no!

I could not stop my heart from loathing the world and everybody living on it. My ears always hear the wickedness of this world whispering gently on me. My eyes always see lust ogling, as we drown in each other’s retinas, nearly giving in. My mouth, unstoppable and as always cussing, evil as always, because I was born with the devil’s tongue. And my hands always throw dirty finger to everyone, even to the most innocent inanimate object.

I am sorry. But at this point of my life, the black watercolor seems dominant. I could not see the light because I am not letting it go through me. I am the darkness that is unstoppable.  I am not pure. I smile and celebrate on somebody’s downfall.

You might say that I’m so cruel and evil. I guess I am. And it is neither because I do not believe in a god nor because I’m a product of violent cartoons, but because sometimes you need to hate and live in darkness to be able to see things in a brighter perspective. But at this point, I’m still inside this darkness and I do not know when to get out.  And I could not see the light. Cruelty of this world has overshadowed everything. Even the most vibrant smile.

 

 

I know, I know I am hateful this time of the year. Prolly because everybody's being a bullshit, dickbrain and a shithead even on petty things. Everybody just zoomed beyond my bullshit meter so FUCK YOU. And I am not sorry for being so hateful to everybody and to the world. Sometimes, you have to scream and rage and fist fuck the wall.

The real deal of this blog is that, while I was slurping chicken soup the elders (Mom, Gramp, Uncle) were talking about my other uncle (Dad's bro). They were sharing their bitter remorse about the sudden change of plans. Eventually, their mouths blabbed about everything from my uncle's car to his financila debts. And it was effing uncomfortable, because I was sipping my Chicken Soup happily while they were munching the chicken like angry old barbarians. My temper shot to many degrees, I sat there motionless. And I could no longer take the disaster because my angry soul is now drowning into the Chicken Soup of perdition.

I just wanna say this to my family and to everyone, if you hate someone please don't discuss it over the table because IT IS FUCKING BLABLAH. And by the way, it is bad to judge people by the way they smile or by just looking at their body language. IT IS ALWAYS BAD TO TALK SHIT especially when I am eating.

I know I am so hateful but between the horribles and me, I do not backbite or talk shit. If I hate someone, I tell him. If I don't have the guts to tell him, I write about how I feel...just how I feel. And I can always say those foul and uncouth words here in my blog without mentioning to whom they are for.

Love is all around. Hate is all around too. It's just a matter of how you see things and how you accept shits and how you make the shit a better shit for you and for me.

And yeah, I'm blabbing about family shits. Hehe!

Our firefox is fucked up. Keeps on having errors. @_@ And today, I'm beginning to like IE.

I still have to fix myself today. Not physically but mentally and emotionally. WHY CAN'T I WRITE MY EFFING ARTICLES? Prolly because my brain is so fucked up too, like firefox. If only I have an alternative. If only I have spare brains to use whenever I am having my writer's block.  Like the Doctor from the Nightmare Before Christmas. He could always open his skull and scratch his brain.

 

Write now, I could only write things like these. Things that sprout in my mind for a second. Things that would never wait and never give me time to breathe because when I do, words would disappear the moment I flare my nostrils. LOL

Smite me oh my smiter!  

The moral of this story is, always bring your Zip gun whenever you go, because you never know when you might need it.

For example...