having ingested quite enough alcohol and being physiologically tortured, i battle with sleep just so i could put some of my sticky thoughts down. It would be fun to hear my self out by sunrise.

I am actually somewhere between awake and asleep, but i’m pretty sure this ain’t one of those effin’ dreams again – my subconscious playing tricks on me, being harsh to me, mocking me with crazy scenarios that might be, given it’s magical realism nature, possible to occur in dear life. (somebody pinch me so i’d know) You see, my subconscious had had a screw turned – it’s bringing dead people back to life, posing discrepancies after discrepancies, and waking me up gawking, whimpering and cursing the morning and certain people too.

I am a-OK in real life though. It has dawned upon me that hell yeah, why should i give a damn trying too hard to love everything that i do. A mountaineer workmate shared to me what she has picked up from a certain someone in Readers Digest. She was talkin somethin bout not having to love your job, but loving your reason for doing it. In my case, i have and angst-driven plans to bask in the essence of living. I will be human someday, as human as a free bird (errk, discrepancy) In other words i shall beat life’s bitchy aspects when the right time comes, and i have someone behind my back to yell out “booyah” when i get there, someone as flammable as I am, at least today.

I love to see a young girl go out and grab the world by the lapels. Life’s a bitch. You’ve got to go out and kick ass.

-Maya Angelou