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fuck you, smiles.

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You will not.



I'm rotting at my bed, laptop in front of me.

I'm dying, dying, dying.


Fuck, I'm depressed for the Idon'treallygiveafuckwhatth time this month.

I hate this.

So in resolution, I write.

What's that?

My mind won't cooperate.


I don't care about you.


Just pretend, pretend, pretend. You'll never know..


I need to find a way out.

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Oh, just another one of those blogs

I don't really care if someone reads this or not. I'm gonna write because...that's who I am.

I don’t want to breathe. Ever. I tried doing that; my tired lungs collapsing, screaming for air. A groan painfully made its way out of my throat. Nails. No, it felt like razorblades.

Oh god, why am I thinking like this?

My head loudly made contact with the poorly painted walls of this hell I’m living in. Again…and again. I’ve grown accustomed with it. It helped me think straight, or maybe forget the horrible sickness that was once again stirring. Pitiful. I could have looked like I’m dying—actually no, more like dead already.

Shut up.

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she's crazy

I've been ignoring a lot of people for sometime now. It's not that I really wanna ignore them.I just..I'm lost.

Anyway, this just made me feel a bit better. My friend sent this to me out of a sudden..probably because I haven't talked for weeks to her. I think she's crazy sometimes but nonetheless, I love that she noticed me. I love that she even consider me as a friend or something close to that.

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The Words

This is beautiful.
Even if you take out the guitars, the bass, the drums--the music, The Kids From Yesterday is one perfect song.

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So, these are the few things I do when I'm supposed to do something instead. Damn, I get distracted a lot.

I love my calculator for having the sign "NA" on it..and I had a freaking idea of what to do instead of reviewing for my Physics exams..
The other one's the odd star origami thing-y I made after staring at the papers sacked on my desk.
The last one..well..Had that written on my wall. xD

So much for the randomness...

Anyway, I noticed that the spams aren't dominating us now! :D And I just freaked out now that I could scroll back to more blog posts again! yay, Zone 6 is getting better!

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running around..

with this shirt on is awesome.

I love Frank's "homophobia is gay" shirt so much I have to make one myself!
It's done with just white paint..and odd handwriting plus GD font inspired shit. :D

I wanna do quotes from them or something..someone know anything?

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I feel depressed..and before you'd start to tell how fucking lame of me to say that. Stop. I suffer from bipolar..(yeah, go on, laugh your ass off)

So, anyway, instead of getting swallowed by this bullshit depressive episode..I'm trying to drown myself with lots of music..And SCARECROW's stuck on me now, been playing it nonstop. Gaaahh..

And the picture's my drawing of my idea of this song. Whenever I hear it, my mind's projecting this lonely image/scenery of a field with an abandoned scarecrow, moving with the wind a sad dance.. I think I did saw something like that when I was a kid..anyway..I should shut up.


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I accidentally watched this video of Ray in WWE. I didn't know he is a fan of it! xD
Oh, Ray..I love you for this.

It actually made me remember my childhood...I think I spent half of it growing up with my grandparents. My grandfather--or Pa as we would call him was a huge fan of wrestling. I remember sitting on the arm of his big antique chair in front of the television set watching WWE. I remember the familiar smell of Pa's clothes and the wood-y scent of the chair. He would cheer at the screen as if the wrestlers could hear him coaching and I would laugh and join him. Every night, that was what we did. It became our bonding time, me and Pa..and also my little brother which I doubt don't have any memory of it now. At times, he would make fun of the wrestlers or sometimes say something really cool--words of wisdom, I guess?

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A blog..because I can.

A blog about the randomness of a random life. I don't fucking care if you'll read this or not. I don't fucking care if you'll react or not. I will write...because that's how I live. I don't give a fuck about what others think.

I have to admit: the past few weeks, my love for MCR was slowly fading away.