Monday, May 31, 2004
I trudge to work anticipating all the ruckus left hanging over the weekend. I know that I will not go home early (like I ever did). I know that whatever goes wrong, it is default that the fault is mine. I know that I cannot weasel out of that fault, because I am not a supervisor, nor am I an ideas-factory.
These are the times when you forget yourself. Not in the spirit of selflessness, not of the choice to be unselfish... of not thinking of yourself... but of forgetting who you are. Because of all the selves people deem you to be, need you to be, want you to be. I am a poet, I am an artist. In my soul I want to create, to give birth to the outpouring of feelings; made into a reality that is not true, made into fantasies that are not false. In my soul I wish to dwell. And my soul I deeply miss... being with. And as to when we shall dwell again, I do not know. Then, they will know that I am a poet, an artist. And I will know who I am.
But for now I am not me. Default settings don't set me that way.
dezphaire strapped in @ 12:09 PM
Sometimes bored. Most of the time oddly alive. Phobic of butterflies. Creatively suppressed. Hungry for coffee and shoes. This is my subconscious talking... at times interrupted by my reality.
a nomad in tofu town
chocolates & sapphires
uncontrollable writing urges
lost in the wilderness
chona in the city
what mama jojo says
a jayveebug's life
driver ng bayan
up dharma down
the patient mental
insane adventures of d
alamat ni kuya jeff
welcome to nio
ang juanang kapatid
anino ni abaniko
kapihan ni qroon naomi's leaf who is eyevan?
lessons of knoizki
marlon's twisted list
blog ni skittles
ideal pink rose thoughts & photographs soul^tude the gypsy cat south central jen yuri's flight manual arie's blog v for vina snippets of a wanderer lazarus' thoughts iskoo glances over the fencesitter billiedoux reviews the shoe blog
Jealousy, turning saints into the sea. Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis. But it's just the price to pay, Destiny is calling me. Open up my eager eyes 'cause I'm Mr. Brightside -- "Mr. Brightside" The Killers
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