Tool Box

I hate arguing.

I hate to argue with people who know and who do not know.

I hate arguing about the chicken and the egg.

I hate arguing for the thought that it involves speech. I hate speech. I hate talking. I hate people who talk. People who talk too much. I hate people for that.

I totally hate arguing with people who talk about religion and science and everything that don’t mix. F*ck em! I hate people arguing things that are "oil and water".

I hate people who talk too much. I hate people who repeat things. I hate me.

In an argument, i just shut up and roll my eyes, turn the other way.

Reduced. But it feels worse otherwise.

I hate people who proclaim their wit. I see myself in them, but no longer.

I hate it when people take things WRONGLY. When they over-analyze.

I hate the word argue.

I hate to comment.

NO COMMENT.

…………………..__
…………………/…/
………………./…/
…………./´¯/’…‘/´¯¯`·¸
………./’/…/…./……./¨¯\
……..(’(…´…´…. ¯~/’…..‘)
………\……………..‘…../
……….‘\’…\………._.·´
…………\…………..(

It’s just what you think it is. And i hate to argue about it.

It’s not that I’ve just had an argument.

I shrink at the thought that a friend at school hates what I used to adore.

Argh. Anxiety shrouds me when I attempt to compose music. His musical tastes are heavier (bug-at?) than mine. And he keeps criticizing mine. He hates the posers that are involved in mine.

He respects me, though. Still, angst is far too strong. I’m locked in Pandora’s box.

I played the bass riff i composed for our composition. It sounds a bit cheesy, I realized. Ugh. UGH!!! It is cheesy. I’m a prejudice to my own standards.

ALL the photos stored in my digital camera got deleted.

Oh well. At least I saved MY shots on the computer.

Kenny called up at 11, reminding me of the band practice.

After taking a shower, I received another call from him. We’d meet at a church in Inayawan. I told him to call me back when he’s done with what he’ll be doing there (I don’t like crowds <Inayawan feast>. I don’t like waiting either).

I consumed the ichtyoid mother had prepared for us for our grim daily ritual.

Anticipating Kenny’s call, I got bored, and dozed off. Still, hasn’t called back.

As what was a week ago, I went to Colon Street to buy another Beavis and Butthead comic book. It’s COOLER and DIRTIER than the previous issue i bought. Yieh. Body Odor is COOL! Heh-heh!

No class tomorrow.

Wow. Today seems like a "de-ja-vu" to last week.

First AUGUST post.

I’ve been having a hard time with my friendster blog.

Went to Talisay this morning to fetch some nieces. Got back home at 12. Slept a bit, woke up at 2 and went to Colon street to relieve myself from the pressures of post-puberty.

I may have probably strolled at least HALF of Colon today. Looked for Art supplies.

I just broke my Php 600+ 0.1 technical pen needle. S.M., Ayala, and Mango Branch National Bookstore attendants said the needle was rare.. and expensive. Good thing I found the oh-so-rare needle at GAISANO METRO for Php 417. I hope it works, I forgot to test it. Bah. God is merciful.

THICK Beavis and Butthead comics were on sale. I bought one.

I stared at the sky, and noticed "Holy light" come from the dim clouds above.

I ruined that holiness when I got back home (I need not elaborate on this part).

After watching MEAN GIRLS on DVD (Lacy Chabert is getting hot), I decided to work on my Sculpture Class project and my english assignment.

Stupid.

I left my english book (where the assignment was to be answered) in my school locker. English starts in the morning, FIRST subject. Worse. My friend has the keys to the locker. A friend who lives about TWO cities away from the school. GOD, HAVE MERCY.

Maybe the teacher would just consider an assignment written on paper.

No. He won’t.

I hope my friend comes early to school tomorrow.

Better. I hope english class be cancelled tomorrow.

Best. I hope classes are suspended tomorrow (for whatever reason).

I’M NOT WRITING THE WAY I USED TO.

Still haven’t worked on the "yearbook staff page". Too busy to do that, with a schedule where you get Saturday as your only half day, and getting dismissed at school everyday at 6.

Thanks for the effort, Jen, but I think its working (wink).

Sigh.

I’ll go get my Beavis and Butthead comic and start weeping.

More posts starting tomorrow.

WAIT. I JUST HEARD THIS WHILE EDITING THIS BLOG POST:

Mom: Pa, e-set ang alarm clcok(Dad, set the alarm clock for tomorrow.)

Dad: Akala ko walang pasok bukas?(I THOUGHT THERE WILL BE NO CLASSES TOMORROW?)

Uzi: Unsa???? UNSAA??(WHAT??? WHATT????) <Ugh.. corny>

Mom: Aw. Wala ra uy. Maminaw lang tas balita ugma. (Nothing. We’ll just listen to tomorrow’s news).

Uzi: Ngano lagi? (But why?)

Mom: Ninoy Aquino man kuno ugma (Tomorrow is Ninoy Aquino) <Har>.

Ooooooh.