Be My Snuffleupagus.

besixdouze is dead.

No, i'm kidding. I'm shutting it down momentarily - something went wrong with my lay-out. I can't fix it right away because I'm sick and I'm flooded with projects, both dayjob and sideline. And of course reverting to generic templates is a giant no=no billboard, it's like breaking a web designer's commandment. Thou shall not apply ready-made templates.

I've been a lousy LiveJournalist since I transferred to that account. Lately it has been just YouTube embeds and photos with single-line captions. I miss making kwento like I used to. I'd post something like my hair is fugly and everyone sympathizes.

It's not like I don't have things to write about. Last week, I renamed 1000+ gif files manually. My two bestfriends left the country, I feel like I'm losing friends. A month ago, I drunk-texted an ex-boyfriend and it ended badly. My Citibank's maxed out, I'm the new Kinsella novel. I might be moving to Paranaque in a couple of weeks.

I'm probably out of creative writing juices. Or just plain tamad. Someone slap me with a trout now.

New entries at besixdouze

Okay,  I'm still fixing my new LJ (besixdouze- add me later aight) so leave your birthday greeetings in this post. Please, I'm begging you, I'm so bored. Entertain me, monkey boy.

And while we're in the spirit of adding, idunnohowto.multiply!

I deleted this journal three days ago. You probably know why (and no, it's not because of the hold-up incident).

But I figured I'm gonna regret that someday. My life wasn't that bad. Of course, I was whiny and over-the-top dramatic, but these are life experiences that I would want to remember years from now.

This journal deserves a proper goodbye.

(plays Pachelbel's Canon. Or Kanon? Whatever.)

Misery is a vicious circle. It's a familiar feeling. This is my never ending story.

I won't be gone for long. Look around, you'll find me eventually.

Naholdap ako nung sabado.

There were like twelve people inside the bus. This guy suddenly pulled out a gun and yelled at us. Then two other guys started going around asking for wallets and cellphones.

I got home with my knees still shaking and my heart beating furiously. I started calling people, looking for company and some comfort, but everyone's either partying or sleeping.



I'm still scared. Mad. Helpless.

Nothing is safe anymore.

I love the way she screams Runway.

It's probably time to change your mobile phone number when you get a call from an unregistered number at 8 in the morning, and the guy at the other end of the line sexily asks you to pull down your boxers and stroke your morning woody.

Seriously.

I miss LJ.

If you miss me too, say va-jay-jay!

I'm very hohum lately. I'm like a three-hour long documentary on fungus or insert-your-preferred-disgusting-organism-here your biology teacher forces on you. I'm Glitter!

But yesterday while Mi Casa, Su Casa-ing at David's condo, I had an epiphany. I don't want to be the guy who gets consumed by his day job! I want my old life back! And of course, Operation: Get-Old-Life-Back (which obviously doesn't include quitting day job) will start with my usual, asinine whining.

I'm turning 23 in a few months, which kind of sucks because it falls on a Maundy Thursday - if I throw a party, then God will have a definite, immediate reason to smite me. I was originally planning a birthday week, seven days of selfish, spoiled shallowness (David, mental note) but then a quick glance at the new calendar - I was browsing an old 2006 calendar while dreaming of birthday week - ruined my plans. Now birthday week is downsized to just three days of semi-celebration and it ends in prayers and penitence.

Fun, eh?

I'm back! Boo-yah!

This is probably the most adorable Whitney Houston cover song ever.

http://suspendedinmidair.i.ph/blogs/suspendedinmidair/2007/01/29/we-float-on-mondays-5/