90/Toronto/Sweet Serial Killer/Creative Owl
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It was 4am. Mellow-type playlists were queued in and we had switched the lights off for quite some time. I got up and sat on the edge of my bed, rested my forearms on my thighs, hands closed together, and stared right through the window 5 meters away from me while her eyes ran across the nearest walls and ceiling of my daily confinement.
We share each other’s pain in a convenient way. Our broken mindsets are far from ordinary, and we can easily tell who’s bullshitting about claiming such a statement. Love is not an option. Let me rephrase that… Love seems impossible for human beings who are built from the same foundation as us. She asked if I wanted kids and I said I would marry not for the sake of love but for the sake of having one— a chaotic path indeed. I heard unconditional love is only between a parent and their children. Then it became quiet between us while remixes of Meiko were put on rotation.

The one laying down behind me then positioned herself where her head hung from the edge of the bed, trying to figure out my re-occurring thoughts of hopes and nightmares. I placed my palm on the side of her face and traced her cheek bones with my thumb, and kept staring through the window with heaven and hell clashing in the back of my mind.
We both embraced the ongoing playlist at the time and stayed in this position for another hour.

today i came home to a mother slowly becoming depressed by the corporate world and their plan to retire her by 65. today she asked me if i’m willing to travel the world with her if someday she gets rich. today she’s finally revealing the influence from her 101 year old feminist bitch ass client who keeps insisting divorce because her husband failed to reach society’s standards of being a man/father/husband. today he showed me emotions i have never witnessed before; saying he doesn’t want to live in the philippines if his wife is feeling like this, if the family is breaking apart over financial issues. he’s leaving in 2 weeks for 6+ months and it will be just me and her. her mindset is turning into shit and it pains me to see the sweetest woman turn bitter.

today i planned out my blue prints with the team. i decided to take the left because things aren’t going right, and continue to take the road less traveled. robert kiyosaki’s rich dad poor dad concept is so fucking real. i don’t believe i can make my parents happy if i work a job to retire myself in 40 years and they’re already dead or miserable and dying. fuck it. i’m taking this vehicle and i’m retiring within 5 years. if i don’t wake up now i’ll be asleep forever.

there is no plan b.

Everything is well and not well. Just when I set myself straight on what I want to do in life, this exciting journey, a little piece of life’s situations just overcoats my eyes to look through what has darkened my views as if they weren’t dark enough. As long as I keep on and do my thing because I have no other choice, becoming another failure in life is not an option. But still, one side of me has never been better while the other half begins to crumble faster, and faster, and faster.

peterocks asked: Recommend any good writing blogs?


Sadly, not anymore.

Your personality will bring you a long way, but not alongside with mine. It would become a long-term decaying effect once you try to shape me into your soulmate. Every fiber in my being still echoes for something I have not seem to get a grasp of, and it would be okay if I end up not ever finding it.

Why should I party?

My family is still struggling. I’m still struggling. What am I supposed to be celebrating? The substances there won’t make my situation any better so should I make toasts and cheers for anything at this point in my life if it isn’t going to help me? 

If it isn’t for networking purposes then I can’t party, at least not now.

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