Tales Of The Fencesitter

• This fencesitter is thinking of turning political. Hmm.. after hiding under a rock for so long, what gives? #

- Couldn’t help but do a lot of gaming. I was hoping to get that blasted game out of my system but, oh, I don’t know.

- Discovered another interesting show yesterday and man I may have to do a lot of watching this week. Which means work’s gonna suck really bad.

- Andrew Garcia just couldn’t help but take a huge swing. Foul ball! Dang, it seemed like he was really reaching. Stupid assed choice of song. He needs a song adviser, fast.

- The new ride is really sweet.

- Fuck I’m hungry. It’s 530 in the morning and all I have is a bag of Lays.

- WTF Noynoy? Why’d you have to go and kiss Quiboluy’s ass. Fricking turnoff. And I thought he’d act more like a worthy son to Cory and Ninoy. Quiboluy is one sick mother. And the wannabe bastard just had to grovel for votes. Argh!

- It’s the calm before the storm. Hell week is once again upon us. Holy Molly.

- After hell week, the future is so blinding that I have no frigging idea what’s gonna happen to me. Oh well. Maybe I’ll practice jumping off a bridge.

- Sick. Sick. Sick.

He takes a lancet and dips it into his finger. Blood flows, it looks so red. He feeds it to the machine, looks at the resulting number– 400. ‘It’s too high, time to take out the needle’ he tells me with a wry smile.

It breaks my heart seeing my dad inject himself with insulin everyday. He says it’s alright, but I tell him it’s not. It’s not right that it should happen to him. It’s not right. It’s not right.

‘It’s alright son.’ He repeats. ‘I’m fine.’ He says.

And it’s tragically funny because at a time when I should be comforting him, he was the one comforting me.

• I'll take a quiet life, a handshake, some carbon monoxide. — Radiohead #