to do everything and finish on time. really.
i owe my mother a decent memorial post. it was her 11th death anniversary on wednesday. busy, busy. my mother would be proud.
proof of my rather tense existence, other than the fact that this space has been untouched for roughly a month, are my coherent dreams. the other night, i dreamt of a WORD.
exism. n. prejudice on basis of previous romantic connections already severed.
wtf. busy, busy, my head. even when asleep.
anyway, itís like effin antarctica up here, i have three jackets on.
i am now 12,000 words BEHIND on my nanowrimo attempt for the year.
the good news is that iíve added one book to my now-finished list and thatís vonnegutís catís cradle. finally.
sometimes i wonder how people like conchitina cruz come up with the stuff they do. do they just wake up one morning and think, ďof course, thatís it! ELSEWHERE HELD AND LINGERED!Ē
naman, title pa lang patay na ako.
anyway. i am not loving how the IT of this company is cracking down on every known social networking thing on the planet. donít they know that this newspaperís content is best circulated and referred to other people through those avenues? just a thought.
sometimes i just want to smoke. like, get out and smoke. like, zone out and smoke.
but of course i wonít. i didnít take myself through nine months to give up now, eh.
and oh. did you see that front page photograph on sunday? sweet. and i thought my debut would be related to a sort of crime.