Sunday, May 30, 2010

I shall curse this word.

I hope nothing on a day but not a tumultuous day.

as i keep on saying what the f*ck is going on, i keep on drinking my tea as part of my healthy so called f*cking diet.

I've been using the f*ck a lot.

i f*cking love it. i f*cking hate it. mind manners? who cares.

the adrenaline. the urge. the extreme jouissance. the delight of eating a stick of pocky.

God knows how many times i have used the immortal word F*ck.

while eating.
while bathing.
while drinking.
while driving.
while thinking.
while writing.
while surfing.
while watching.
while sitting.
while clicking.
while .. eheming..

the word f*ck circumambulates my thought every minute, like the planet mercury who revolves around the solar system. it watches the circulation of my blood inside my pee brain.

as my little pee brain watches this magical word that revolve around it. it mesmerizes and sends 20,000 waves of electronic signals of thought that i should say, pronounce, speak, spill the word f*ck.

i curse this day from now on.

like the priest told me.

dodge the f*cking things that tempts me to do a very sinful act.

as i live by.

as i pass by.

f*ck it.


the word f*ck doesn't control me. i control it.

i consciously know it.

like eddie brock who controls the symbiote.

but it slowly feeds me.

when spiderman used this shit, he became a bad-ass shit.

when you are using the word F*ck you can choose where you want to put it. use it.

The word F*ck is like a power.

with great power, comes great responsibility.

use it wisely.

in a fight.
in a fright.

use the word F*ck when you're F*cked up.

the word f*ck is powerful.

f*cking powerful. shout at someone with it. they will cram like the ants who panics when they are being attacked.

use the word f*ck when you are really angry. it is so powerful it can even relieve the tension that is building up in your f*cking system.

f*ck i'd say.

it possesses multiple meanings.

F*ck is when Manny Pacquiao won as congressman.

F*ck is when ampatuan got pardoned.

F*ck is when 2 stations used a high tech. shit that made people look like a morons.

F*ck is when i saw a fat 2 year old boy from indonesia smoking a cigar.

F*ck is when koala bear the whistle blower appeared.

F*ck is when willie revillame threatened abs-cbn that he will resign. (oh please)

F*ck is when the media focuses more on the jejemons.

F*ck is when i talk to a jejemon.

F*ck is when i see a f*cking jejemons.

F*ck is when your wi-fi connection is very slow.

F*ck is when your classes starts at june 7.

F*ck is when you care but they dont care.

F*ck is when you have realized something that you shouldn't have fucking done it.

F*ck is when you realize that you just wasted your F*cking life.

All of it is just a f*cking story.

i therefore shut the F*ck up now.

i maybe nice but i know im f*cking tired now.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Definition of heat by my pores

My deep manly pores releases its sodium acid dew of which is not new.

when time strikes at 3. the human torch begins to hug me.

the heat scratches down all around town.

i must drive i said....

i went inside like batman going to his bat mobile.

close shut the door.

the heat stares as my skin bleeds and screams.

the dashboard quietly screeches as i touch the wheels, my 5 fingered god made creation was fried.

everything is melting.

like a butter thrown inside the toaster.
like the cheese melts at the pizza.

like a chicken saying "im burning in hell"

i'm like a dog in heat. my tongue is swelling. my ass is burning. my love is fainting.

The waves are deadly. i could even make pancakes at the roofs of the vehicles easily.

traffic slowly working.

the smell of the deadly freon heating up.

like Hayden's cam dancing with Katrina. hot it is. very aggressive i must say it is.

heat

heat

heat

i want to beat the f*cking heat.

but I still don't want to dive into Justin Beiber's beat.

now all i have to do is eat.

and i don't want our ever loving President again to repeat.

so much heat in the street.

make love with me so that we could build up some heat.

as you read this i know this will make you in heat.

for i premeditatively

repeat the word

heat.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Manila, My immortal journey.

Manila, My immortal journey.

(VOLATILE: Manila. "a city that doesn't sleep" as what did frank sinatra stated in his song "New york, New York")

Standing at the middle of the LRT train,

I noticed 3 intricate things.

1. The cold orgasmic freon that battles the cold heat wave.

2. a chick who secretly glances a beam of stare at my muscular body, while i was reading a work of art that can save mankind from destruction.

3. and my phone is dead.

As the lousy lazy weakling gay man voice came from a static speaker box. my over sized head started to command a ballistic uncertain movement to my muscle to move. every joint moved. just like Achilles fought for the Trojan war.

Down i went from the glory penis like transportation, the scorching heat penetrated my discreet mammalian body.

heat mumbles as i walk at the streets of Mayor Lim.

Few minutes away from the station. i could smell the black fresh air of the city that everyone's talking about.

Snake like waves above the roofs of the vehicles.
The belching miasmal matter of the engine.

such an exciting nuisance for my god made lungs.

as i jolted and ran fresh smell of paint covered my attention as a man paints the guarding fence of UP Manila, as i noticed the smell i noticed a man staring and looking wantonly at the busy people passing by.

such am abrasive act i may add.

a beggar began to beg.

a woman eating Dragon (yung pampulutan) Pumpkin seed for her grotesque stomach who cries of pain in hunger.

a blind lady with her tandem partner in crime guitarist like M.Y.M.P. Juris and Chin singing Aiza Seguerra's hit song back in the 90's "Pag Dating ng Panahon" of which every lover sang this one to their prospect girl.

a sophisticated tone of voice from a half korean chick who speaks atrociously that made me stopped for a while for it shivers me just like when Scooby Doo sees a ghost.

finally as i came near to the sanctuary.

i was so delighted. like when mr.fantastic invented something new.

i could feel the freon from the cold facility of robinson's manila.

such a journey i may say.

such an immortal journey that will stay.

Friday, May 7, 2010

"result from a serious headache and slow hammer like heart beat noise"

I thought i died last night.

and i did.


Late night,

they say this is where little children go inside their beds and starts to fantasize about toy robots and Barbie dolls inside their blanket playing with the flash light and giggling while parents are watching their children outside a the door peeking through a small thick line at the door and smiling.

Late night,

in the context of people 18 and above, well maybe not 18 even 12 to 18 and above, late night can be pertained to as the night where you can sneak your porn videos from under your bed, and start locking the doorknob. while preparing, put the volume to the lowest level and start the action.

on the other hand late night is where bastards plot their schemes and plan their bitching.

alone? yes. as i was walking a street i noticed something weird.

enough of that. drug dealers are seen in this time, but heck i care, if the big fat police like fat mall cop appears, hell i think he wouldn't even show his damn shadow, or even let a drop of hair touch the ground for such a disturbing noise.

as i say , moving on.

late nights usually seemed to be quiet but this one is different.

so much quiet that it slammed the deep cold neptune-ian like place of which i can only here two things.

the deafening sound of silence and my own hammered heartbeat.

a place where you can think and decide.
a place where you can die without a pride.

my eyes suddenly turned black and i saw nothing but fantasy from the black plane.

i hear only the 2 second heartbeat count.
like a hammer from a 36 foot building fell down to a fragile crystal like china made glass.

such noise of which i cant explain that even God wont tell me what it is.

like a thunder it slammed.

oh i thought it was my last.

and then the lightning came. struck the precious multi billion priced organ of mine.

hurts like hell, like this jack hammer slamming to a titanium metal, or digging through the adamantium bones of wolverine.

like a mad man who cant speak. i did not dare to speak.

i did nothing but wait.

then.

it was done.

was it a coma?

no.

it was more tragic than a coma.


"result from a serious headache and slow hammer like heart beat noise"