Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Dissecting Reimond

I believe I am a difficult subject. I think my complexity encompasses Accounting. For one, I do not have postulates or standards that define the very nature of my actions. I act often on impulse and most of the time, I act when stressed. But that too, I realized is mundane.

But like any other body of knowledge-as to this is the basis of how I will state my story, I, too, have a history. A narrative of how this ordinary being became this crumpled piece of awesome mess.

Of course, everyone begins with birth and mine was at dawn on the 15th of November 1992. I'm an illegitimate child. Fatherless. My mother raised me well, too well, I think despite many adversities.

I do not think that I am intelligent but I'd like to say that I am well-rounded (modesty aside). Definitely not plump but well-rounded in the sense that I know a bit of a lot of things though not necessarily an expert on these things.

I am a frustrated writer. I'd like to make world-changing essays but I usually blabber about personal stuff-petty stuff. But I do have an ambition of becoming part of Oprah's book club and to possess the patience to write that bestseller.

I'm creative (again forgive the egocentricity) and I often wonder why I didn't venture into an art related course. I'm practical and I'm gutless. I also have a bloated ego.

I'd like to believe that I'm as complex as stoichiology or as mysterious as alchemy, but just like all of you, I'm ordinary.

I'm ordinary.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Poison Noodles

This morning I realized how stupid a person can really be. Of course we all have different perceptions of how a stupid person acts, but I'm sure we all have some idea of how stupidity, in its rawest sense, looks like.

For example, picture yourself waking up a bit hazed, probably had mild fever or something, then walked straight into the kitchen, grabbed last night's noodles and ate a giant bowl because you haven't had dinner last night. You're probably wondering why it tasted that bad but you were so condensed of the idea that you're the most unfortunate person in the world for having cold noodles for breakfast and other issues you wouldn't dare mention in boys and men and men acting like boys and other boys' boys, and other stuff-so you continued your morning chow uncanny and unknowing of what lies ahead.

You finished that giant bowl with finger-licking gesticulations and did the dishes because you remembered that your Mom almost threw the glasses and mugs at you last night. You finished with ease then suddenly, someone told you that the noodles you just ate were bad. Unpalatable. Indigestible. Then right on cue, your stomach rumbled.

Hello food poisoning. Hello LBM.

See? If only you had dinner last night, you probably wouldn't have eaten that much poison noodles. If you hadn't been too preoccupied with your petty issues, if you only smelled those freaking poison noodles, you would have been in class today. Yes, obviously rambling about your Humanities subject and questioning why you don't know anyone there or enjoying that JPIA meeting with people you don't know, but nonetheless, in school. IN SCHOOL!

Tsk. Snap out of stupidity.

Sunday, June 12, 2011


Today the Philippines celebrated its 113th year of Independence. A century and so of freedom-to express, to evoke, to live and to love. Maligayang Araw ng Kalayaan mga Kabababayan :)

Oh yeah, citybuoy resumed blogging today. XD Lurve it ♥ This is exactly the slap in my face that I need to write again.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

We all come to this point

Frustrated. That's what i am feeling for the past few weeks now. For one, my past few entries have been, let's say, un-writer-ish. I only hope that some giant bus or something hits me for inspiration, motivation and all the other requirements for a happy, and fulfilling write up to appear. Amen.