my yahoo messenger status says "bug fixing in purgatory"

yep, that's how it feels like right now. the aircon is malfunctioning and is spewing out molten lava instead of cool air. the heat is unbearable, this almost reminds me of the 3,000 people in france who died of heat stroke. may their souls rest in peace.. dexter, my seatmate has taken off his shirt and i'm almost tempted to do the same =p but i know that would create quite a stir here in purgatory and they might decide to demote me and kick me straight to hell =)

six days to go and we'll be flying back home =) now, that's the only good thing im hanging onto these days, i miss my pillows, and i miss my stupid dog who never fails to put paw marks on my pants when i leave the house for work in the morning.

but most of all, i just simply can't stand this heat. if hell is like this, i better start doing good deeds from now on.. =p

i dont know why i write maybe im just one of those drama students on an impromptu acting assignment, where the world is their stage, and the roles they assume are the ones that fall from the back of their heads when they close their eyes to blink and think of their first line.

maybe i am like that, maybe i am superficial, i wear a mask when i write, i wear different colors, red, blue and black, sometimes i am naked and i let my heart bleed into the pages, sometimes i am ice and i freeze time in between phrases, but since my masks and my skin have become too entangled, i cannot take off my face and know for certain if it is me, if it's my story, my sadness, my grief..

i only truly write when i am homeless, when i am without roots and nobody holds me down and hugs me and tells me i am theirs, i belong to them and theirs for the keeping, i only truly write when i need to forget, because writing things down removes the burden from my mind, it removes the need to remember, because somewhere, in some obscure corner, it is written, it is immortalized in words, thus there is no need to have it forever stamped in my mind,

there is freedom when i write, i can dream, i can fly, i decide when to go, what to do, who to be with, and who/where/what to stay away from.. i can be real when i write, i can feel, truly feel. it's like looking at my reflection from a clear running water, it shows the ugliness, and all the sadness i keep behind my eyes.

i write of beauty, i write of pain, sometimes i write of all the ugly that is me, i write everything and nothing at all, because i have no meaning, my words are its own excuse for being. i never write about how it is to be happy, happy is a thought i keep locked away inside my heart, happy is something i dont want to forget, so i never want to write it down.. there are no words to describe great emotions, it is physical pain for me to try to capture moments in words that dont quite fit.. that is why happy stays at that remote place inside my heart, and therein it will stay for a long while more..

summer is almost over, and september is just around the corner... ah september, it will be a month of silence for me.. i will try to look for happiness falling down on side streets, and i will fill my pockets with it, i will not write it down lest i forget how it fills my lungs. i will be in hiatus, i will be looking over a cliff, deciding if i should jump into the chasm, or fly over it.. i will be quiet, i will be invisible, i will be without a voice, nor a footprint, i will stay this way till i find myself homeless again,

thank you for trying to make sense of me, the best that you can.. maybe one of these days you will find me walking beside you, you carrying your canvas, and me carrying my notebooks, i will share with you my words, my stories, and you can show your paintings to me =)

till then, i will be the soft voice at the tip of your tongue, and i will taste you when i close my eyes at night.


08.22.2003.2.38.p.m.j.p.t

it's summer here in tamagawa,

and the first thing i did was download this really nice song i first heard at the movie "the real cancun", it's simple plan's i dont wanna grow up. well yeah, I DO NOT WANT TO GROW UP. but s%$t happens, so here i am =p too old for turning back, too deep down the road to look back past the street signs i failed to take note of.,

what's new with this place? nothing really, just the heat that seems to flow about like trapped mercury in a bottle. it's 31 degrees celcius outside and the hot air permeates my skin too much that it's not enough to take a cold shower or drown my head in a bucket full of ice to cool me down.

not much work really yesterday, i just had to reinstall the os for the notebook assigned to be my personal friend for the rest of the 27 days left of my stay here. real grunt work started this morning, i was assigned to setup the solaris machines.. so what did i really miss today except for breakfast? not much, i'm still in denial =p reality sets in more slowly these days, like it takes days for things to finally sink in on me, sometimes i find myself saying "did i really do that?!?!" or "i said that!!!?!?!?". i'm probably stoned most of the times or they slipped something on my drink, =p

ah,,, pass me another kamikaze please =) life is good.. but please dont let me be just another drunken mistake..