Wednesday, December 29, 2010

The Boy Who [Will] Kick the Hornet's Nest

Should I sing to you the 12 Days of Christmas, but no, there were only four but hopefully would turn out five, six, seven…whatever. And so it goes...

Day 1 –a jamming session with few cousins, neighbors and the new barangay captain who made my uncle the “justice something” which entitles him for a few penny as salary every month. The session ended still with my head held high. Johnny Walker failed to seduce me.

Day 2 – an invitation was received from high school barkada which includes a lengthy reminder that through the years since we part ways, I’ve missed most of the gatherings. By the end, I was too high droppin’ my pants kissing boys and girls left and right. Yeah, it‘s not only Miley Cyrus who could use some bong.

Day 3 – there was already a light disturbance in my head and in my stomach but the party shouldn’t stop. Some friends brought me to a few gimik spots in Bulacan which in my years of being Bulakenyo weren’t ever explored. The morning after, I went home with a slight hangover then went to my lolo’s grave for a few chat where I met this massive snake crawling towards me as I was crouching on the ground.

Day 4 – the most important of all night of alcohol and nicotine abuse, where my bestest friends and I jaunted 3 bars at one night for the so-called drowning of frustrations and “teenage angsts.” The plan went well for two of our members not to go get drunk [since they were the ones who are successful in their venture on romance] and pull the remaining 9 members who are either trying to lie down on the street or too busy trying to snatch the guard’s whistle. 

One blogger pointed out how bad my situation is doing these strings of drinking sessions and reminded me of the dangers it imposes on my health especially my gastronomical dilemmas.

Of course I am well aware of that. While the words of advices are well appreciated, I think my intelligence is enough for me to know what could hurt me and what cannot. I am f*cking awesome, you all know that.


I am f*cking young and beautiful! And that gives me every right to do whatever the f*ck I want provided that I am taking care of my own shits and spending my own money.

Second, I am not in some weird-rebellious-drama-queen-period. Because after a long stretch of time, I WAS HAVING FUN! F*ck all the questions and f*ck all the reasons.

Lastly, I owe nobody any explanation! I can kill myself and nobody would care. Or should care. I don’t need any bastard to take good care me. So move your ass and scram!

The coming year, I know, is for me. And not because the Chinese Astrology would pay tribute to us born under the sign of Rabbit, but because I demanded it to. I demanded the stars and the planets to line themselves in favor of me, a mighty demigod. I demanded the Earth to spin progressively. I demanded Satan to bathe in the bloods of my enemies and the many other fallen angels who did not survive, unlike me.

The seven seas would be conquered and the mountains are to bow their heads. The gods and goddesses would laud this warrior and would take him in his rightful place. It is time to take what’s rightfully mine and for the tables to turn. The victim is now to fight back!

And as the great Captain Jack Sparrow always say: take what you can, give nothing back!

3 reaction(s):

red the mod said...

Finally, some bile and venom. I like how you claimed it all, the confidence and arrogance is so becoming. There is no greater joy than the exercise of one's absolute free will.

You know the risks, and are well aware of the repercussions. You need not be reminded of those.

Own this life. It's the only one you've got. :)

M.I. said...

A friendly reminder:

Drink Moderately

Happy New Year Desole B. :)

somelostboy said...

I thought this is all about the Larsson book:)) Read it anyway, its awesome!


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