I had bits of adventures last week and it involves a rope, a bowl and stack of beer.
You know I always think to put this page into private so I could carelessly write the real score of whatever is happening around me. I only had limited “instances” where I think I should put into leverage to weigh things and identify the kind of trails that I am treading and eventually choose the right decision towards happy endings. If you are my friend and then I came across with you, and then you’ve read this, please ignore what is written here. And please don’t mention anything about what is in here.
It all started when I sat down with Ebie and we were talking about life’s little malfunctions that includes the cheesy uber fantastic topic about love and the joys and misfits it carries and how I awfully cried in front of her about my stupidity. I remembered I wrote something about it here so I wouldn’t go into details about it all. The story is that it was not about the spicy food that made me cry, but it was a good camouflage to be in an emotional state when you are in a restaurant so people around you wouldn’t go nosy seeing your eyes swelling and reddening. Yes, love is a matter of accepting the negative issues and enjoy and cherish the positive side while it’s still there. With that, you will do everything to stay that way because even when the pain needs to be felt, you need to avoid it.
By the time Zen poked me asked for some breaking dawn beer drinking, I realised I’m not as such a loser as I thought I am. Hearing heartaches and sad melodies makes me feel reluctant in a way I should be feeling blessed knowing I’m not alone in this world as I was beginning to become self-centered and all. Adding Bee’s single issues and Zen’s overly chaotic love-barred expedition and another friend’s series of unfortunate events with his girlfriend, I concluded that whatever happens, life really must move on and that killing yourself is not a good idea. Although it’s a good idea for comics. Thus, drawing this (below) helped alleviate and gagged-out the so-called emotional weather from last night’s conversation.
No man is an island. You really need someone to listen to you even if you know they can’t do anything about it. Trust me, I tried to isolate myself from every possible person I know but I always ended up on crossroads with friends. Good friends asks “where are you?” not “how are you?” And I’ve got a couple of “where are yous” now so that seems to be okay.
Shout out to the people who asks me to smoke.
Shout out to all the people who randomly liked my statuses even if they could care less about my shit. It helped and it will always work to everybody else even if they know nothing at all.