Dvorak's violin concerto's currently crooning in the background. I only play classical music when nobody's around. Ivan Pavlov's classical conditioning goes:

classical music = I are by me lonesome self

Waaaaaaaaah. I didn't go to work. Icy's drowse tablet has turned my labyrinthine brain into one giant bubble of nothingness.

I am depressed, clinically, and immobile. (Another term of landline phone--immobile phone.XD) The dopamine in my head that's supposed to regulate my movement, balance, and walking is, like, nonexistent.

Butiki and I can read each other's minds.XD And by that I mean telepathy or thought-transference. We'd just gaze into each other's eyes and guess two-digit numbers inside our heads. :shocked: Freeeeaaaaakkkkyyyyy. I read a book about telepathy once and never really thought it possible for it needs genormous amounts of psychic energy. Now I dunno what to think. (That's because you're brain dead right now, Tobey.XP Tell you the truth, I'm just actually typing this entry using my mental psychic prowess alone.XD) It's like that old lady from one of those documentaries wherein she could turn the radio dial in her head and tune into any radio wave that she wants to listen to without any technological contraption. Imagine a world where all people can read each other's minds. Everybody will be so conscious about being mind-read they'd just shut their brain down and think catatonic, like focusing on a snapshot or a scenery of a vast red brick wall. Reminds me of The Great Wall of China--I used to think it was a great wall made of porcelain.XD

I live in a magical world. (Ooooohhhhhh. How puerile.XD) I just have this itty bitty smitty flitty feeling that my fantasy and reality are colliding into one. Like for example, err, I can't think of an example. That's what I meant when I said "itty bitty smitty flitty feeling". There are examples; I just can't retrieve them from my memory at the moment.

From hereon now I will begin to open up myself in this blog. And I mean really open up myself and expose my bloody viscera--everything that I can remember in one sitting of writing an entry. Just so I can preserve my memories. I'm getting doddery I swear to god, that mentally. I can't even remember what I did one hour ago. Oh yeah, what did I do an hour ago?o_0

I have begun to cry a lot.X0 That is just so NOT me. Began to cry easily a lot. Then again crying is considerably preferable than wreaking havoc and burning everything around me when I am in pain. Pain. I seldom feel pain. But now I am exorbitantly emotional. I cry like a garden sprinkler and laugh like a hyena on nitrous oxide. I'm transmogrifying to TRANSPARENCY. I am no longer, uh, impenetrable.XP (I used to wear one of those scramble suits from the film Scanner Darkly.)

Alas, I am beginning to resemble a human being! I used to be a Goddess, you know.XP

I got a little sick from swallowing Drowse Decolgen when it's supposed to temporarily cure me of insomnia so I can sleep and mentally function well at work. But my body temperature rose a notch on the graduated thermometer, the fucking downers tablet trapping my thermal energy inside every corpuscle of my body. Butiki came over after work and snugged beside me in bed.XP He's the sweetest lizard in the world. (Granted, I have never written schmaltzy stuff like this before. But for the sake of Memory Preservation Act Rule 3 Section 5, I, uhh, my train of thought escaped me. My half-naked black-coffee-skinned neighbor Ely is singing some crap lyrics from my veranda.) We woke up at around four in the morning, had fantastic copulation on a chair sweating like a wrung saturated sponge, then my body went back to normal temperature.XP We frivolously deduced people around the world get sick because of lack of sex. Sex is the elixir of life, and to be healthy or immortal even, we all just have to engage in constant sexual gratification. (Well provided you are going to produce a horde of babies, then might as well consider, not yourself, but your genes, immortal.)

Butiki and I are about to turn two months. Tae, parang ang tagal na namin magkakilala. Ngayon lang ata ako hindi nagsawa sa isang lalake.

Methinks I have changed a lot for the past, what, three months. I am no longer neurotic and pasmado. Well. That really is a lot.XD

Books I'm currently reading:

1. Jessica Hagedorn's Dog Eaters
2. Charles Bukowski's Post Office (Finished. It was, uh, wry.)
3. Charles Bukowski's Factotum
4. Mark Danielewski's House of Leaves

What's up with the last names? They all sound EWSKI, like some interjection whenever you see something horripilatingly disgusting, viz., seeing your own guts trailing from your own asshole. Remember Chuck Palahniuk's Guts?

Strawberry Jam, Butiki, and I whimsically went swimming at past midnight the other night. Only Strawberry Jam dipped in the opaque piss-saturated high-chlorine-content poolwater though. We just tippled Grand Matador and squandered our sweat-earned money on the entrance fee, cabs, table fee, chips, et cetera. Err. It feels like it happened eons ago I can't remember any specific detail.

I hate my job! Grarrrrr.

Word did you say?

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