420 words: Too lazy to think.

Where have I been? It’s been quite a very long time since I haven’t visited this site. Hmmm. Let’s just say, I was very busy with my job. Yeah. Was. And oh, am. There has been a lot of things that happened to me. I was busy doing stuffs and organizing some pseudo-outings and phony reunions, whatsoever. But I digress.

Well, have you ever tried like drinking the whole night and stopping only when you feel the heat of the sun on your skin? I have. And, I only took a nap for about an hour.  After that, I went home. Drunk, yes. Sleepy, of course. Unfortunately, some passengers just can’t understand why hygeine is important. Argghh. There was this guy who I believe was drunk as well who smelled like reek. Geez, you don’t want to pong  that sweaty armpit.

So, when I got home, I took an-hour shower. In the shower I use a water activated gel cleanser, then a honey almond body scrub, and on the face an exfoliating gel scrub. Then I apply an herb-mint facial mask which I leave on for 10 minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine. I always use an after shave lotion with little or no alcohol, because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older. Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye balm followed by a final moisturizing protective lotion. Nah, I’m not the serial psycho killer Patrick Bateman in American Psycho (2000).

I just love shower. It makes me sober. With only an hour sleep, I headed for school for a Mother’s-day celebration. Well, we love our chairperson. She made us bigheaded. She defended us during our university days.  She allowed us to play Defense of the Ancient (DotA) in our computer laboratory. On top of that, she topped the Licensure Examination for Teachers (LET). Who doesn’t love that? We are just too proud. Uh, am I telling a story here? Probably. So much for that.

After school, some officemates decided to hit the bottle of vodka. Hmmm, sounds like I’m gonna be drunk again. Drunk plus drunk equals sober. Sounds great, huh? So, after four shots, I guess, I decided to go home. I just can’t imagine myself being so drunk I’d crawl on the bathroom floor. And so, that was it.

So, what am I trying to convey here? Okay, what I’m trying to say is that I was busy. I am busy. And, I will be busy. And, I don’t have much time for writing.

Okay. I have to be back reading ‘The Magic Fan.’

Is the game over?

I’m back in the game. I’m good. I’m sound. I’m out of the woods.

I just wish every day is like Saturday nights; when bottles of beer pile up; when endless talks linger in the atmosphere; when shadowy dark place light up with laughter; when butts numb while sitting in hard wooden benches; when pain dissolves in alcohol; when friends cheer you up; when memories fade, and all you care is the moment; when amnesia or Alzheimer’s prevails; when the world does not stop turning; when the world keeps turning that you’ll puke putrid stench of barbecue; when you don’t care less; when you feel torpid and paralysed.

I just love Saturday nights.

I just wish every day is like Sunday dawns; when DOTA keeps you up; when Tapsilog seems so yummy; when stomach feels empty; when excitement tries to paint a smile in your eyes though you look woebegone; when keyboard and mouse brush your fingers; when the monitor seems so close; when sight blurs; when you forget a little of everything; when riding a jeepney at four o’clock in the morning seem so nice; when the cold wind stroke your follicles; when the feeling of frigidity comes from the outside, not inside; when the wind knocks frigging pain for six.

I just love Sunday dawns.

And I’m back in game. I have stitches, but I’m fine. I have wounds and lacerations, but I can move one foot at a time. I’m good. I’m good. Really.

And I love the playing field.