What’s wrong with short shorts?… po.
What’s wrong with singlets?… po.
What’s wrong with THE WAY I DRESS?… po.

Wake up. YOU are living in the 21st century, in case you do not know… po. You do not have the right to not let me serve God just because of what I’m wearing. There’s no such law. And that’s totally not fair… po. Really. Not. Fair.

(Forgive me Father for I have sinned.)

I will sure wait for hours, standing in a very long queue, just to experience that less-than-five-minute roller coaster ride. I don’t like waiting, I FUCKING HATE WAITING. And there are times that… I just can’t keep waiting. The longer I wait, the more I feel my legs weaken. And they just… snap.

“She did. He didn’t. Big mistake.”

I know it’s wrong. So wrong. I didn’t think it would come to this point. And I just can’t spell the words. I do have choices, but it’s just another heart crash either ways. I know that.

“Parang elevator lang yan eh, bakit mo pagsisiksikan ung sarili mo kung walang pwesto para sayo. Eh meron naman hagdan, ayaw mo lang pansinin.”

Oh that fucking stairs with that fucking red carpet glued on!!! I can rip it off, but I’m human enough to know it’s not a good thing to do.

My life is a BIG mess, yes. Nothing to be proud of… yet nothing to be ashamed of. My family, friends and 16 days, they’re the things that keep me from totally breaking down. But I’d rather say that my life is on the hands of the fucking agency. Literally.