What sense

Is there to talk to people who think they make sense, yet there is none?

It is a simple apple pie slice to say that you could be a friend who'd always be there. But then, there are some things that makes you think if they really believe in what they say and if they really stick to their words.

Now, I know I am supposed to be the happy go lucky asshole who does not care about anything but me, my girl, my work and my proper alcohol intake. But then, these external factors of friends suddenly come popping out of nowhere for certain events keep coming up. And I mean everywhere.

This is not damning, nor frustrating. It does not make me happy, nor sad, nor angry. It just makes me think about certain philosophies and ways in which they live, and that it's hard for you to know things in which you need to keep to yourself sometimes when they do things.

When you have a common knowledge with someone about a something, you just look at each other, nod and agree on it. Sometimes, laugh about it.

Now, going back to my original point after this drifting moment, I want things to be clear if a person really cares or no, cause a person sometimes knows how to act, and there are those who are straightforward. I am a straightforward guy, but with small hints of acting.

But I am an honest person, and strangely, a loud thinker.

Now I'm thinking while I'm writing this down, "Is this a testimonial to myself in telling people I am honest?"

Talking to myself, I'd say, "Come on. No one is honest. They would be honest when they choose to, but there is no honest person."

So now I am caught between two heads, and a drifting topic of contexts.

I am just so bored.

Moving forward or moving noward?

I am stating nonsense for it gives me a great deal in laughing.

My mom and I were having a chat on the way to the hotel after my aunt's wedding. We were talking about friendship and how it should be.

She said that she gains friends by doing them small favors not expecting anything in return. True enough, I do see these in her actions. Humility and shit goes a long way.

Same with my dad, who just does his job and does small favors in the airport. And what news! He got a PSP.

But then, when a person tells you this, at first you'd be interested in not thinking about it, which makes you think about it, then on, you think about the reward, but trying hard to think about not thinking about the reward. It's an awkward yet irritating feeling.

So, here I was, trying hard not to think of a possible honorarium for the work I did for free, which I've been dying to finish for 2 weeks. Then damn, after everything, I saw the smiles on their faces, the people I've worked for. I had that enough reward, I guess.

Later on, my aunt told me, "How much do I give you for the AVP?"

Damn, I wanted to walk out. I did not want to be given anything, and it surprised me since I was already happy with simple things.

Since it was a bad thing to turn down an offer, I said that they give me anything they think would be ample.

Shites, now I feel ashamed.

"Don't expect anything in return if you do them a favor." The teaching and the thing they brought me up with.

I guess I get it now, a bit. But hey, sometimes, business is business.

Oh, and finally, I will rock the world, soon. Moving noward with small favors? On the contrary, it's moving forward, but not alone. :)

------------

Hey miss, I'm still damn missing you.

Take better days. :)

3 words.

Irking

Everything is becoming irking and unhappy.

Small details of undeniable truth, hinting more and more as it progresses through time the differences of the past and the future.

Now everything is irking, as nothing is resolved by anger, it inevitably exists. This world is full of music, and maybe someday, the world will listen to it.

No, not the music you put in those small rectangular shaped things or whatever shape they might be in, for they are music that blinds and deafens the soul. One track minds, they might say.

That music comes from deep within the Earth, so long forgotten.

There before, nothing was irking. It was complete and distinct, yet cherished and has a diminishing factor that it is fragrant, not foul.

It is silence.

Silence.

But then, I can never make that music, for I think loudly, delving into pits of my idiosyncrasies, I believe that it is in speaking that we can be heard.

Still wrong.

It is in that sweet music that erupts every now and then, a certain time when we say, "Hey, an angel just passed by," or, "Wow, a heavenly tune!"

I can never play music such as John Cage's '4'33', though I can try. But the title shall be changed to '1'00'.

Listen.

To that sweet melodic tune.

Silence.

For 4'33.

Shenanigans

Now, how do we do this...

A doomsday dabbed with disco balls

The Daedalus in Dean, what does it deceptively dictate?

That diving deep deposes drive and that distance donned in altitude diminishes the discreet descent of the dreamer in his drive.

Dealing and divulging in drugs and drug-like doorways may the doorkeepers deem dense and dumb, for it does nada and dross.

With this deliberation and deduction of delinquencies, by default, the Daedalus in Dean declares that there deep down in the deepest depths of Dean is, depressingly, a delineative 'douche bag' donned with dirt and damned dimensions of dumb depositions.

This is derogatory to the identity of Dean, for there deducted in this dirt bag, the Daedalus. Underlying does the Icarus demand advance in altitude.

A dilemma.

Thus, a Daedalus in Dean.

But then...

No matter how many things you have in your head as mindsets, and no matter how many times you've built them over with cement and epoxy clay, your mind still tends to collapse... fail.

This is shitty, having the feeling of silently hurting someone, when usually I'm the sadistic one. Is this a change?

Or is this just something completely moronic of me to think?

I believe it's the latter.

Irrationality, what else can you do with it?

On bratiness

I know I should be happy with what I have, but sometimes I wonder if I should give everything up and start from scratch with a stable job and a happy life with a someone.

But I'm feeling spoiled. And I feel like I'm working for something, yet get something what I want in a snap. Yeah, I'm lucky, but I don't want to have this prince-like treatment.

She told me I should be happy and be happy being spoiled. It's not all that bad. True enough, but I'm still afraid of what I'd be in the future.

Taking things for granted, procrastinating, stuff.

Yet she said that I should think of the now.

Yeah, that made me silent.

Silent enough to think that, hey, in the future no one will spoil me. So I'll be happy with what I have.

Resolved the problem? Not yet, still have to eliminate this feeling in my head and start concentrating on my work and my life.

And her, who made me happy again today.

Miss you. 3 words. :)

Inside my head at 4:59am

I'm thinking of life and I'm thinking about her.

And thinking about how else I'd spend my time today.

I'd be finishing up sounds and photos.

And reminding myself of another person's past.

I'm thinking of life and I'm thinking about love.

And what it ever made me think about or do.

I'd be looking in a mirror and see a man alive.

And now I'm going crazy about what to say and think.

I'm thinking of life and I'm thinking about my friends.

And how each of them make me happy and how each of them tells a joke.

They are unique and they have blessed me, for I have something to learn from each.

And now I'm thanking them silently by laughing at what they jest.

I'm thinking about life and I'm thinking about death.

And how it helped me move across these plains of green and gravel.

Though it is a given that no one should think about death till one is old.

It's just a small tribute to the deaths before that made me who I am now.

Something to make me talk

What interests me, I wonder.

I talk about a lot of stuff, like making fun of everything and anything under the sun. But truth to be told, I got nothing.

It's like creating a whole different wavelength from two hundred sides of a coin.

Today I learned something.

Everyone makes sense, no matter how senseless it may be.

Simple, do not be superficial.

Look beyond.

Already know this?

Then why not do it?

For today I learned something.

Sacrifice everything, including your own dignity and pride, to gain a friend's trust.

Not exactly respect, but it will come afterwards.

-------------

Drifting?

It's because I can.

How 'bout getting comfortable?

I'm... eccentric.

In human terms, I'm weird.

I get that. A lot.

Why? It's cause I'm comfortable being with friends.

Friends I truly trust and care about.

Those who are not ashamed to be with me.

Damn.

But either way, they got one thing going up their minds.

And I can never change that.

What now?

I don't know.

They tell me I should be myself.

Usually, that's how I am.

Thought I'd make people smile just a bit when I do things.

Sadly, they just think I'm a lunatic.

A maniac.


So, is it time for me to be silent and be someone I'm not?

Yeah, silence is golden, but so is randomness.

I should stop acting weird and be something of the norm?

I just can't do that.

I wish I could, that's a huge point for the people of the world.


So sue me.

Your loss.

And what will be your reason?

That you got irritated?

Ha!

I've got a lot more dirt on you than you have on me.

One of the tricks I've learned in life.


"Make them believe you."

A different take on a four letter word

Which I thought I'd never be interested in, having a motto, "Singles Rule!"

But then, a certain someone came and boom.

Cheeziness list comes:

A drug
Fireworks
Sparks
Forever
Night sky
Star
Sunlight
Water

Whatever one might say, name or speak of it, it defines what this tingly feeling inside is.

And fuck, it feels good.

Missing you. :)

Skinning, shimmering, spending

In today's world, we are stuck in a base where we live for money, worse, die for it. It has eradicated the "love conquers all" saying.

In other words, we are all in the brink of killing for money. Admit it or not, there's a something of such in our train of thought. Though you might be the most generous species that lived on this planet, you'll, sooner or later, look for an exit in saying, "Dammit, I need money."

That becomes our drive at times. Usually, it's for the family, they say. Of course, we think about that, too. And sometimes, create a thought that you hate it. We are all selfish, in one way or another. I'm not trying to superimpose anything, it's just that we are humans. We have that small factor in us.

Basically, I'm trying to point out what small factors humans have in common, even a tiny squint of it, or an angle of it. Depends on a perspective and rationality level.

It might be something of oddness, but I'm feeling stupid today.

And extremely brown.

Turd pile

Now here I blog of thoughts and stupidity. It comes from my mind, directly to my fingertips and it just moves on its own, carefully hovering over the letters in which it wants to press. It creates a word, shifting to phrases, sentences, paragraphs, then equates an idea. After that, new things come into my head.

What I want to pour out of my head now is the anger in my head.

But which words would my fingertips try to create, just to emulate the same anger in my head?

Words, control? What do I gain in that? Relax, focus? Then I just added another turd pile in my head.

But then what is in my head?

People? Places? Things? Work? Life? That's what's in my head?

I'll stop it.

My head, it's already bleeding of tricks, of games, of tools, maybe someday, of blood. Cause everyday, everything I think of hurts what's in my head.

Hurts what's in my head.

Hurts. What's. In. My. Head.