I was pondering which is best to kill a guy who broke my heart, to skin him and let the ants eat him or skin him, put lemons on him and let the ants eat him when I realized something. I am currently running some test if my theories would actually have some scientific truths in it.
You see, I realized that guys would probably stop snagging anything that wears skimpy skirts that could sway their hips if they were given the burden of being pregnant and giving birth. They would probably stay at home with their wives and helped her do some chores instead of calling after office hours for unexpected overtime only to be home drunk with lipsticks on their collars. There would probably no reason for the guys to be scared of commitment. I bet they would even beg for the girls to marry them when they get pregnant. Now they would not have a chance to deny of their offspring and the need to have a child undergo expensive DNA testing for child support would be eradicated unless they believe that the child was switched in the hospital. But then again, I only see those in the movies and telenovelas.
All I need is to find some stupid guys to test my theories on. Finding stupid guys is a breeze but running tests on them would probably caused me a million which I don’t have yet, plus the fact that the church might interfere.
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Why is it that everytime I try writing about love, men or relationship my mind went blank and after I saw drools over my shirt that I realized my body went numbed and I was staring a blank sheets for hours. Is this one form of rebellion my heart is staging because of so many heartaches it went through? Then I wonder how come other writers have used their sorrows to write good novels. But I can’t seem to force my mind to function sometimes, I wonder if I’m getting stupid or my writing ability is slipping. But then I get good thoughts, things that has nothing to do with love, my mind gets impatience when my hands cannot follow my thoughts. Then I came to conclude that my mental block was only selective.
I like the word sorrow. When I run my thesaurus in Microsoft Word, it says that it synonymous with grief, morning, distress, unhappiness, regret and trouble and its antonym is joy. What a lonely word, don’t you think? And I wonder if sorrow comes with tears because if it does, then what I feel is beyond sorrow because no tears have visited my eyes in the past few months.
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Do you know that your eyes are more intelligent than your ears? I realized it when I saw in one show and I heard lights turn on in my head. The kid was watching the sea from a terrace when suddenly the waves overcame her. Guess her reaction? The kid after seeing the wave turned on her left shut her eyes hands grip on her eyes and let the waves overcome her. Get it? The eyes send the message to the brain that the eye needs protection at all cost, so he turned left while the hands protectively hid the eyes. And what happened? The unknowing ears received all the wrath of the angry waves. I don’t know if the eyes were more intelligent or our brain favor it over the ears. But I still find it stupid of the ears not to hear all the red alerts the brain is sending to all the body parts to answer to the stress call of the eyes.
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I’m having a running nose since my birthday. Before we took this vacation, I had colds for ages; my friends were telling me that I should have it checked. But without me knowing it, it stopped. Then when I went back to the office to check our store, I had it again.
Now, I’m definitely sure that my colds is caused by allergies. My friends were convinced that I may be allergic with the dust I get when I travel. But then, I realize that I may be allergic with the thought of going back to work. And if it’s true, it’s sad because in a couple of days, I will have to return to my work. Leaving me to choose between endless running nose or being endlessly penniless.
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Do you often feel different from other people? I do. One time I was chatting with this friend and I finally told her that I am jealous/envious of her. Before I get to the point of explaining why, she told me that she gets jealous too but she always remember that she is lucky too in some ways. I love my friend but sometimes, when you hear things like this, it makes you feel inadequate, invalidating what you feel.
You ask yourself, am I wrong to think this way? Or should I still voice out what I feel? Am I alone in this confusion? I am lucky though, because I am not afraid to be misunderstood I can always put into words my emotions. Unlike Rustom Padilla, it took him more than 30 years to finally say what he felt when he was 3 years old. I also noticed that he used précised words it’s like he has been practicing to say it aloud in such a long time. People would probably not understand why he said it in front of the cameras in the house, but I think he did it right. Where can he actually explain what he feels to everybody without being interrupted at all? He said it and everybody listened and he didn’t have to put up with the stupid reaction of some people. Those who would not understand couldn’t stop him from saying it, they could turn their television off but they cannot stop him. It must have been a relief for him to be able to say everything now.
And I couldn’t like Rustom more now that he’s out. When you finally get out of that house, I am one of those who saluted you.
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