Sunday, March 13, 2005
some bad air
After such a sleep-deprived week and a tiring Saturday, I woke up this afternoon to find my room with the likeness of a tornado's aftermath. My sister was doing some kind of mosaic project thing. You can imagine how messy that is. And a carpeted floor isn't at all easy to clean. I also find my desk riddled with corrected essays and yellow-pad notes. On it were also two cellphones and a glittery blue pen. Okay. So that was the scenario. It seemed like my desk at work.
I did not at all welcome the sight. As it was the sight that welcomes me almost every night I come home from a 14-hour work day. The only difference is that my sister wasn't strewn (in more appropriate tagalog terms: nakahalandusay) on my bed with the TV blasting like she was deaf. And thus allow me please to pour my angst on the age-old war of two sisters... their rooms.
I don't care if you guys think me as mean and irrational. I barged into her room, somewhat hit her with the door in the process, and picked a fight... What is your room doing. What is my room to you, your office? Do you want me to burn down your room? Is it the computer? I had your computer for so many years and I lived with it. You live with it the way I did. What will you do if I removed your access to my computer?
That was the end of the patience rope. She should be thankful that I held out for this long. I sat down, deleted her access. I concluded that this was the only thing she was after, given that she has her own phone line and she didn't want a TV. My mom even redecorated her room. Arg, the youth these days. What does the word suffering mean to them? Hindi manlang magtiyaga. Everything as they want it. I defragmented her computer already. I fixed the popups. If she wanted a faster one, she should take it to the shop and upgrade it. I lugged the thing to the shop when I needed to. I spent almost ten grand replacing the slow parts on what I'm currently using. The thing is, I don't really mind that she uses the PC and does her homework on my desk. The major thing is that SHE DOESN'T CLEAN UP. Net, she lets herself get caught. All those nights watching CSI and learning the value of eliminating evidence. So, unless she's got more brains to tidy up her crime scene, then she'll have to live without the P4 PC.
Okay. Fine. Since she's my sister and I love her anyway, I burned all her files into a CD and cleaned up her PC again. Packshet. What a way to start a Sunday.
dezphaire strapped in @ 3:20 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
All words, verses and art are copyrighted to me unless otherwise specified. Authorization and reference required for any form of reproduction or use. Much thanks for your respect and support.
Thanks to ImageShack for Free Image Hosting