nettypicking

i spent a good amount of time today staring up from where i lay down on the floor.  the light in the room was not that bright.  at least, it did not hurt my eyes enough for me to look away. 

i spent a good amount of time today looking at the ornate design of the stair banister.  i hide my face in the crook of my arm.  it covers my left eye but not enough of it to render it sightless.  it merely frames my view of it with a liquid kind of darkness.

i stare at these things and slowly, alternately wink both eyes.  it shifts perception of the same thing.  it's fun and funny to do it.  it makes you realize you can see two things together and separate.  same as things.  and words.  and books.  and people. 

it's like separating the egg white from it's yoke.  it's like squeezing a new tube of toothpaste.  like mustering up the courage to run a hand down the length of a big, giddy dog's back.  like seeing regurgitated tofu stickying up the sink you need to wash your hands on.  quite tricky.

i spent the remainder of last night pretending to listen when talked to, and straining not to hear when being talked about.  i spent the remainder of last night talking to strangers i did not care for.  i spent the remainder of last night floating away into never, neverland and wondering how some people cannot reconcile the fact that i will be wary of you after you have shown me that there are two kinds of people to you.  how i may have been watching you with my eyes hidden under the crook of my arm, under the influence of your gin and your haze and your ink.

nothing is as sobering as waking up to find yourself asleep in your life's transit, forcing yourself to enjoy your present dreams

i don't mean it to be mean.  i don't quite know what i mean.

nettypicking

what is the attraction of something new and unfamiliar that reels us in?  is it the uncertainty?  the nervous laughter?  the was-that-a-wink?

how very convenient it is for you to find everyone attractive.  bonus points for the six degrees of separation.  wait... make that one.

you know your method of saturation to the point of exasperation, how many times has that worked for you again?  find one needling, niggling flaw in an imaginary haystack.  go ahead.  meanwhile, find 10 otherwise things in your self-destructive process.

pasipa?

sure.

figurative turns literal.

and literal, literal turns exciting.

nettypicking

He had always wanted to be like smoke, to be able to lazily drift about wherever he pleased.  To flit, flick, frolic and go round like a drunk butterfly, a frenetic bee.  Such thirst in his parched existence.  Too many beautiful buds opened and awaiting, too much nectar to pass through his eagerly sucking lips, frantically clawing feet.  Much too much in this big, little world to let anything pass.

This results in many a miserable battle, and much more deafening flapping of frantic wings.  But he has already decided that like smoke, like butterflies, like bees that all to easily die away anyway, that he would be like them, dance like them, sting like them.  After all, a life that revolved around different pistils in the different cycles of his birth and death appealed to him.  Caught and kept his attention.  That it might not be the healthiest way to live does not bother him at all.  To live in the best way, anyway, is never, ever healthy.

Currently feeling: like inulanan

nettypicking

i smashed my phone yesterday. 

wait, that's not accurate.  that makes it sound like it blew up into smithereens, which is far from the case.  at first glance, it looks fine.  a closer inspection reveals two, fine spider webs fighting for dominion over the screen and when it is turned on, it takes on the color pallet your TV assumes when a channel has signed off.  red.  grey.  blue.  green.  pink.  white.

pretty, yes.  also pretty useless.

you may wonder how this has come to be.  well, some silly, angry girl threw her phone with the intention of throwing-but-not-smashing.  pity she did not know the strength of her rage.  add to that the overlooked margin of error in her aim.  (ah.. that's probably a cop-out.) 

and so, as though amidst a scene from a movie that catches you horrified unawares, you can't help but watch the repercussions of the protagonist's actions.  and though you want to look away, though you cringe in the anticipation of the climax, you can't help but see it through.  no matter how awful you feel afterwards. 

shout as much as you want at the TV screen, you have no control.  just like as soon as your damned phone (haha.  damned as in doomed at damned as in detested) leaves the area of responsibility that is the upswing of your arm, the release of your hand, physics takes over.  and everything from then on is in slow-motion purely for your regretting pleasure.

the phone hits a giant vase you did not even notice was there, and both crash to the floor.  you are left with eyes the size of saucers, a mouth the size of your shame, and spider webs on your phone.  tsk, tsk.  the vase survived though, so no cleaning and covering up required.

i now have P2,000 worth of damages and a three-week wait for phoney to come back to me.  where are empty bottles and cracked dishes when you need them?  not at hand, as we have seen, kids.

Currently feeling: lighter in the wallet

nettypicking

have you ever particpated in these?

alone.  at home.  again.  seems like the trend.  bored.

my friends from baguio and i have taken to going online and conferencing the night away.  tonight though, in lieu of the usual bastusan and bashing online, we decided to up the ante.  currently in an inuman session with friends.  complete with webcam action to increase the intimacy of the session.  of course the intimacy ends with me and only me being viewed as others are too stingy or in serious lack of webcams.

i have so far been asked to:

shake out hair

stick out tongue

dance

etc. etc. etc.

and have obliged as that is what friends do.  in some weird way, it actually makes it seem like i'm with them. 

online drinking.  try it sometime.  not as don't-feel-teeth as bunking with the paraans.  not as get-you-drunk as pulling an all-nighter at drews or meatshop.  not as funny as my fernando poe jokes.  but on a warm nothing night, it gets the job done.

edit:
speaking of funny... have you watched sweeney todd?  this line i find hilarious for very green reasons "now a pussy's good for 6 or 7 at the most.  and i'm sure it can't compare as far as taste" 

hehe.

mukhang may lasing na.

no pointing fingers at me.  i'm very busy and important.  s'matter of fact, i'm in a conferece right now.  shh!

Currently listening to: sulat
Currently feeling: tipsy toesy