photoshop really makes dreams come true. haha. yeah, i made ashton’s dream come true…to be with me! wahaha. ha! told ya, you’re one heck of a lucky guy.
*hard solid slap*
(sorry ash, i don’t go for guys who dig Moms. You might like mine when you see her and I won’t like that. hahaha! come on now, run to your momma!)
ugh, this is what i do during my “petiks idleness mode” or when i’m waiting for that overstaying muddafucker agent to vacate my workstation or when i need an inspiration to finish my tasks. hahaha!
can you be bored and stressed at the same time? YES! and that’s exactly what’s brewing inside me now. My eyes are ready to pop out!
…and never the exception. So now is the time to
refresh and get busy jotting down my standards once
again. I finally came to terms with you-know-who
last night. No more texting. No more chatting. No
more talking of any form. It’s time to disconnect
from him.
I thought it would be easy being friends with him,
but it’s been a lot harder since we can no longer
talk about what we feel in the open. But I can’t go
on pretending that I don’t feel, I don’t hurt and
that I don’t friggin’ care. If he can act
nonchalantly while I go on yakking about my dates
and all that, he’d rather stay away from me and
keep that auto-numbing lessons to himself. I’ve had
too much showbizness, i want to get myself a good
deal. We both deserve to be happy and that’s it.
And it’s not gonna happen if we’re both on a ship
sure to hit the iceberg and sink. Yes, just like
Titanic, it’s gonna be tragic. And I am positive to
be the first one to freeze. It’s been a great
journey, but yeah - one is bound to die. With my
intention to save us both from the proverbial
tragedy that i could see coming everytime we make
each other feel bad, i chose to jump off and he, on
the other hand, is free to go anywhere he desires.
I realized that moving on really requires closed
doors. No more peaking into each other’s lives to
avoid hurting oneself. No more knocking on an
ignoring door. No more trying to get in to know if
it’s already locked. No matter how hard you lean
against the door and strain your ears to hear his
footsteps going towards or away that damn door,
still the fact is: it’s none of your business
anymore. You can’t help him to get up and to move
on. Keep in mind that he knows what to do at thr
right time and your help is the least that he
needs. Give him a break. You can’t ask him to stay.
Or maybe you can, but it just wouldn’t work. He has
his own will, you have yours. And all you can do,
it’s give yourself a favor and get over it. Yes,
some people get back together, some people don’t.
SOme people are lucky in love, some people are -
well, too stubborn to admit that things went wrong.
I’ve had my luck. And I’m thankful for the moment
that I willingly gave it back without regrets. Now
I’m being optimistic that I’ll be bouncing to where
happiness dwells and have a spanking good time.
Cheers to single blessedness! *wink wink*
“The only reason he can miss you is because he’s
choosing, everyday, not to be with you.”
SO what gives? All aboard!
Okay, since blogger has deleted my ongoing giddy musings for the day….I’ve lost track of what I am supposed to say. Vexation and ecstacy doesn’t make a very good match.
Anyway, I was just writing about witnessing and sharing the fun at the Penafrancia Festival in Naga once again after 3 long years…or is 4? Oh my, i miss home. I really do. Most especially, I miss my friends. My good ‘ol superfriends. I guess I’d be missing the faces in the office too. Really. Even if I know I’d only be away for 4 days. Hay, this topic is starting to make me sick.
Office.
I’d keep my thoughts for now. Apparently, this word is really making me ubersad right now. Plus, it’s pretty much occupying half of my, what? yeah, left brain.
My lips are sealed.
My emotions are rolled up.
My system is tied up in a notch.
I can’t do so much as to sit and wait for a heart attack to strike.
what the hell is happening?
Just moments ago I was feeling close to explosion into fits of magically positve energy and now….
i’m feeling suicidal. Ack.
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