I'm weird like that...

I haven't really had the time to spill my brains out these days. Since I sold my laptop (generously) to an equally frugal buyer, the only mode I have for online surfing is my tab. I'm not really very adept at this touch-screen-typing-thing, probably takes me 10 mins to type a five sentence paragraph, excluding those insignificant minutes trying to correct every typo.

Yup, that's me. Wasting every insignificant time I have trying to explain insignificant events like the above paragraph or (at this very second) how cute my strawberry-painted-nails are. Yuuuuuuuup... I'm weird like that. In fact, I'm such a proud weirdo that if Peter Gabriel were to hand down his infamous red dress and fox mask to any random fan, he'd probably (randomly on purpose) choose me!

So, in celebration of this recent(?) epiphany, I will now be listing down perhaps the top 5 most weird characteristics I have... well, at least these are the ones that I'm aware of.

• That particular bog-of-a-stench that basically irritates everyone whenever they'd visit any local wet market *mercado*, well, that same smell makes me hungry! I mean, minus the colorful spits, litters and flies in the background, I swear I'd eat my every meal in that place. I swear!
• I have a lycanthrope-esque femme cycle. It's irregular but whenever it happens, it either coincides with the waxing gibbous moon or the full moon. 
• I have trypophobia. Go figure. It's severe. Even comes with the panic attacks and all.
• I can hear and smell a cockroach from a particular distance (some 3-5 meters away). Some defense mechanism superpower huh?
• I live and breath Star Wars. I'm not sure if this qualifies me as weird but... yuuuuup.

Conformity is mediocrity.
Normalcy is scary.
I'm a proud wierdo.
So...

Whatever happened to Lucy (in the sky with diamonds)?

Everything that you go through in life is just a phase. 

The most crucial thing in the phases of life is timing. Getting bruises when your were eight years old, first crush at 12, first kiss at 16, first hangover at 18, first menthol drag (as endorsed by America's favorite cowboy) at 20, knocked up/get hitched at 26, hypocritically sing-song the familiar "when I was your age..." at 36, retire at 47, first grand kid at 50, and so on until you die at 92 (or over). Everything is always set by the tide of life. 

So if sobriety is an unknown terminology at the age of 26, then I guess you're still doing okay. It's a compulsory fact that everyone has to fall once or twice in this lifetime.

Whatever foolishness you've done is not even half of what I got myself into when I was your age. Fool around, take advantage of your mortality, I will let you be. But NEVER ever forget where you came from, because whenever you fall, I will always hoist you. Whatever happens to you in life, make it a lesson to be passed unto your children, not to scare them or to avoid them from treading the same path, but to make them realize that life is NEVER cruel, and that it's always our doing whenever the darkness consumes our sanity. 

Like I said,  We are our own salvation.

So Lucy, if you can hear me, when the diamonds in your sky has stopped waltzing, I will always be right behind you because stars do not need to waltz for us to enjoy a lifetime of stargazing.

Rapture of words.

The "Eureka moment", that moment of sudden epiphany and abrupt flow of discovery. Just as an artist brushes every paint strokes ever so impulsively, as if on a trance, to form his greatest masterpiece. The "Eureka moment". Yes, that's how I call it. The moment when an idea hits me like a big fat doobie. Stoned, ecstatic, that sudden rapture of text.

Here is where my mind speaks louder than my mouth and where pictures aren't as beautiful as when they are written.

Here is where my head is in solace and my mind is in a state of rapture. Rapture of words...

I am The Walrus and ---err--- kukukachoo!

Enjoy!