set your faces to jealous.
*believes i'm god and jumps off building*
BUT!
i came home and found a beautiful, penis-tingling MPC there for me! i immediately became happy.
possessions make me happy. you know why? cuz fuck buddhism.
:)
it was the youngest i've felt in a long time,
and it was a beautiful, wonderful, joyous feeling.
we all live in different places now. we have different occupations, we're into different hobbies, and we live much different lives. and we don't see each other very often. but everytime we congregate, it's like nothing has changed. it's like we're still living in glendale heights, allan's driving us around in his volvo, abbu and christian are arguing, i'm about to pass out from laughing so hard. it's not the specific moments i miss. it's the throwaway/whatever moments i'm really dying to relive.
abbu, allan and christian: i wasn't kidding when i said we should hang out more. i'm expecting to see more of you guys now, so keep to your word, or else... *unsheathes sword*
(sorry, i'm on an anticon binge. THANKS A LOT AZEEM!! GAWSH)
13 and god - s/t
alias and ehren - lillian
boris - pink
don caballero - american don
don caballero - what burns never returns
dosh - s/t
hood - cold house
hood - outside closer
jackson and his computer band - smash
jel - soft money
lightning bolt - hypermagic mountain
odd nosdam - burner
subtle - a new white
viktor vaughn - vaudeville villain
why? - elephant eyelash
you're probably not going to listen to all these, but i must insist that you listen to at least boris's pink. haven't heard an album like this in a long time.
i have a little bit of buyer's remorse. but i sorta don't because i've been wanting these things for quite some time now, and i couldn't beat the deals.
probably won't be able to eat for a while. i'm not too proud to accept charity. just sayin.
the lady that lives next door to me is so cute. she's this old filipino lady, god she's so adorable. she walks all hunched over and slow, and i think she lives by herself. a few days ago when i saw her coming out of the elevator, she smiled at me. i really wanted to hug her. and last night i walked behind her as she made her way from the stairs or elevator to her studio. she walked so slow, and i felt so bad/sad.
i feel like a jerk tho. before i knew it was a cute filipino lady living next to me, i was pretty aggravated with my neighbor. in my building we have shared pipes, so if one person is using water, the water pressure in other units is significantly dropped, or as is the case with my studio. and in the morning, i'd often lose all water pressure while taking a shower. and one day i got really pissed off, so i punched the shower tiling. the lady must've heard it because my water pressure was fine the very next second.
on another occasion there was a strong aroma of fish in my room. it was from the filipino lady. not knowing it was her, i was obnoxious screaming "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SMELL, GOD IS THAT FISH" etc. i feel really shitdamn bad about that.
i feel awful about those things now because it's all i can think about anymore. i also think about her living by herself and having to do everything alone. and i just really REALLY want to help her with just about anything. i don't know her personal life but i do not want her to feel alone in any way. i want to be friends with her, not just so that she doesn't think i hate her as a neighbor. i also want to be friends with her because she's a little old lady, just like my grandma was. i didn't realize how much i missed my grandma until i put 2 and 2 together that i need someone like that in my life, and i want my neighbor to be that person.
it's weird. i really want her to be my friend.
we write like we have something important to say. we write like we're completely original, and we write like we're interesting people. like, hardly!
we're really not important. our thoughts aren't grand and we aren't going to change the world through our pseudo-intellectual scribbles. so why do we write? why do i write?
i'll tell you why i write. i want people to think/wonder about me. i love the feeling of being an enigma. i like feeling that there's way more to me than what you can see if you saw me on the street. even tho there's not much more than meets the eye, i like to believe i'm up on some real ass shit. that you don't even think about.
it gives me a false ego, but i really like it.
Why Do You Write?