solving life's indecipherable mysteries with a couple of godawful pop songs

after having a terrible, terrible day, i started to wonder. just how do you turn a bad day into a good one? i used to go out, get myself drunk and fuck myself to oblivion. but im, uh, sober now and i'm in a monogamous relationship. should i just lay on the bed and watch TV for the rest of the night? should i go online and write about it like i used to do when i was still keeping a journal.

hay naku. i feel like mariah carey during her pre-therapy days. (paki-cue nga: "I can make it through the raaaaaain! i can stand up once agaaaaain! on my own...)

teka, where was i? maybe i should stop being dramatic and just let it go, as bam advised me earlier. by the way, i just remembered. my friend was recently telling me about his problems with his boyfriend. all of my gay friends are almost always preoccupied with the state of their love life. either they are in a blissful relationship or in the pits of hell. most, however, are anxious as to whether they would even have a functional relationship. to love and be loved. that's the basic problem, i guess.

"Sometimes i feel selfish about wanting to be loved," my friend told me.

i was floored. why would anyone feel selfish about wanting to be loved. isnt that the point why some gay guys log on to or purchase clothes in bench body and folded and hung?

my brain wasnt working well that night so all i could quote was jason mraz. yes, that corny pop singer who said that, "it's our god forsaken right be looooved... looooved... looooved... Now open up your eyes and you will see..." that's some catchy song, noh?

anyway, where was i? maybe i should've quoted the eraserheads instead who sang this line: "kwento ng pag-ibig / kamusta at paalam." maybe i should have kept my mouth shut. i dont know.

did you saw the TRL episode where mariah came out in a skimpy outfit and rolled in a cake for the VJ? that was when reports started coming out about her widely-publicized breakdown. i sort of empathize with her right now. i feel as if i am rolling a cake in a studio in a very skimpy outfit. only i am not mariah. i am me. and all the flabs on my body are spilling out of my tiny outfit. i know what i am doing but at the same time i dont know what i am doing. and every one around me are bewildered and hugely embarrassed for me. You see, i dont even know if im going to hit the "publish post" button. oh wait, maybe i just did. i dont know.


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