Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Of Things Whatever Today

Some pangs of guilt struck me when I got out from the office. What the fuck was that? I did my bit today and I can see that big smile of Sir Marv's face. So I brushed off guilt and hurried home with me head full of lofty thoughts such as some shots of whiskey while watching Johnny Depp's The Libertine before retiring to bed, or some pages of Drieser’s Biography and perhaps some good laid before calling it a day.

But so-called conscience (I have the most rebellious and so fuck you!) just protested. Guilt struck back with such force I almost knocked out the noisy woman seated next to me in the jeep. She felt silent in surprise, looking at me horrified. Two teenage girls in our front giggled. I disguised my embarrassment by kicking the fucking jeep conductor hard out from the jeep. Or so I imagined.

I put to louder volume my mp3 and donned up an indifferent attitude while listening to Karen Carpenter. There’s something in her voice that made me wish I’s already around in the 70s.

Or if some god would appear before me asking my last two wishes before he/she makes me his/her dinner, I would certainly say 3 days of bacchanalian feast with 20 naked virgins serving me and Karen Carpenter in some soulful debauchery in Limasawa Island minus its inhabitants. The second wish would of course be a repeat performance of the first wish. The queer god can eat me after that.

After entertaining such lofty thoughts, said guilt came back with a vengeance that I finally submitted to her will, making me to sharpen this pencil, find a piece of paper and write some muddled thoughts like a drunk. That old charming bitch.

Other muddled thoughts:

So since I am not the one to spoil things, like meself enjoying this honeymoon period in my new job, fooling my new officemates, harassing sexy clad women in Keppel, getting drunk everynight, getting some laid every other night and all, and rise early in the morning like a man. And so as not to get too comfortable, get bored and drift like a fucking hobo, I'd need to sometimes break the flow and not get too spoiled and all, if you know what I mean.

Something like that. Sort of.

No comments:

Post a Comment