EarShatter

Incapable of loving another person. If I say that I care about you, I just mean that in a brotherly sense of the word. I believe people have all the potential they need to become great someday and it really irritates me to see someone wasting away his/her life over nonsensical trivialities. I love singing and I recently purged my long overdue sadness in missing my late brother Julius. I am a broken soul that’s why most of the people who know me think I am a free spirit…and it’s by choice. I choose not to be sad about the things that happened in my life. Oh, which brings me: I have a knack for remembering bad things more over than good things in life. Call me calloused. Call me a scarred person- that’s how I operate. But as Kahlil Gibran said, “Your Joy is your sorrow unmasked…the more that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain”. I am who I am now because of those things in my life. I’m slowly accepting that some things simply could not be changed, and Splender reminded me of that in the song “I Think God Can Explain”. I am a transluscent person (if there’s such a description) meaning, I’m shady enough to cover true joy or sorrow regardless of the reason, yet you can see clearly the blackness of my hatred to you, if you ever get in my bad side. My favorite letter is V for vendetta and I am on a longstanding mission to outlive the crooks who had taken my childhood away from me by being passive-aggressive and curse them and their children that they will die of prostrate or cervical cancer. Then I will spit at their coffins as it is being buried. At my latest count, two died horribly and there’re three more to go. Fun fun. I can be your long-term enemy and I only accept apologies in the surface. No Mastercard, no Visa accepted. Deep inside, there is a hunger for revenge, especially if what you did was intentional. Apologies are always genuinely accepted on my terms, not when you grovel at my feet begging for one. I used to say I am a straightforward buck, but to be frank, I really am not (spot the irony). I am Mr. Sugarcoater so that’s why I don’t speak too much with people I feel I won’t get along very well. A few nods here and there, and that’s enough for me. Force me to smile, I will vomit. Quite different when I’m with friends. I can be as tough as a nail. I can be the biggest bitch with balls you may find in the world, but all the bitching comes from the heart.

It’s a rarity to chat with a really dumb yet arrogant person but I really like it a lot when it happens because somehow I know someone is worse than me at that moment. They can just talk and talk and at some points I will nod and smile and ask an inquiring question to engage them to spill out more booboos. Heaven. I feed on their ego. Ego Heaven. Hmmm…

I blame my pre-“cool” high school barkadas for always imaging people in nude and humping each other because that used to be one of our stupid past-times during class lunch breaks. Yeah, they’re not cool but they are my real friends. We were all losers. Then I was somehow included to the “cool” group in school and I somehow bridged the gap between the “cool” and the rest of the school’s social strata. I never thought I would grow pubes and now it’s a sting to the memory every time I imagine George Bagsao with pubes longer than his erect penis, or the cropped fuzz of…let’s say Miss Sulit.

It’s morning. Mum’s cooked fluffy hotcakes and a warm chocolate drink for me. Yippee! She’s just the best.