i'm sittin' at econ this early because i didn't make it to BA. i should start writing my own book by now and give it the working title: my life as a delinquent. for no apparent reason, i skip class. then i don't do assigned tasks and other things i supposedly should. (sigh) it really is horrible these days.

last week, i think it's sat, i couldn't sleep because the whole cwts thing kept me racking what's left of my neurons. i was thinking, rethinking, rerethinking where i'd get the money the group asked me and aria to produce. i almost gave in to the idea of robbing la salle people. almost. somehow we got through distributing solicitation letters last wed. hope our hours of convincing, smiling and posing as respectable people pays off.

then yesterday we had our le3 in econ. couldn't say it's easy, couldn't say it's hard either. not bein able to tell is a real bad sign -- coz if it's easy, then you're cute; if it's hard, then you could at least get yourself some ice cream and cry; but if it's neither of the two, then go kill yourself coz you've lost your common sense along the way and there's no point in breathing coz anyway the rest of your life will become moronic existence. i ought to do that, really.

and today, aside from ditchin' BA, i'm also plannin' to keep out of the dojo. i love my judo class best but my body's achin' all over because of last saturday's laundry marathon.

(one message received)

it's tetet. she's askin if i'd like to watch the ateneo-la salle game, 1p on thurs. great. i've got class til 3p. time to embrace delinquency again. if the game's at 1, i'd still attend stat. then i'll skip judo and econ disc (that means i have to attend judo today and ask minet to take my econ le results for me). JUSTIFICATION: 1) i have never skipped judo so maybe it's okay if i do it once; 2) i only attend econ disc because the airconditioning's really good and the lessons are self-'learnable' anyway so no harm done; 3) malin's treat; and 4) i badly need a break.

neat. blurry. little doubt. welcome halt.

money's not the fucking problem. it's a fucking repercussion. no, i don't wake up in the middle of curses fired here and there but i know i'm in a war zone. i'll be trapped there for as long as you build walls around your egos and turn blind eyes and deaf ears to the silent screaming of those affected by your stupid disagreement.

and don't tell me i don't understand because i fucking do. you're the ones who don't understand because you don't want to. you're selfish. you only think of yourselves and the anger you feel. you're insensitive, and that's one of my fucking problems because i'm hypersensitive. if she can cry and choke on her tears without being noticed, well, i can't. my eyes are red from rubbing and they hurt like hell. the paths my tears took when they rolled down my cheeks have dried up, but i know they're still there, an invisible web covering my face.

she's the next big problem. i fucking hate how you can tolerate her. it's unfair because you do but when you need help you run to me. she's pulling you down and she gets what she wants from you and i'm just here, trying to help you and i'm not even worth a single thought. i'm not jealous because i find jealousy pathetic. i'm just pissed with her. really, really pissed.

what's more? you make me sick. how can you tell me about the good life that lies ahead, the perseverance needed now and all those kinds of crap you find in success stories when you don't event want to do a thing to fix the situation you dragged us into? i haven't forgotten that night. my wounds are still fresh and though they appear to be healing, i feel them just going deeper, penetrating what i have left of myself and building their home in my core. so don't fucking bribe. it wouldn't do any good. you're not winning me over to your side, not after i saw how immature you've become and definitely never after i experienced your indifference.

i'm a child cursed with empathy and blessed with righteous pride. you don't get that because you're absorbed with other things -- alcohol, the pair of them, the dog, Encantadia, your jobs, money -- that are almost irrelevant. i need guidance, inspiration, nourishment, brilliant examples, and love. i need to be loved. i have to be loved. i am weak because i don't have this and my righteous pride would never have me begging for it. there's very little left in me and i need your foolishness to end in whatever way. it's tiring, this endless dance of conflicts in relationships.

i'm wasted.