Danabelle in Exhausted Shorts

I feel so exhausted...

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My lights are boring me... I want to build something atrocious.

Yeah, that's the word.  A T R O C I O U S .  Tsk.

Oooh. And I want new backgrounds... And props.

I want props!!! Props are fun.

And probably a bigger room...

Wala na akong mapagsaksakan ng mga gamit ko. Lichi.

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You know, this would be fantastically funny if we suddenly moved. Crud. And I can actually feel it coming on.

Goodness golly.

I wonder who would want to buy ghetto equipment. Haha. For cheaps, babe. For cheaps! Haha.

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HR called saying that they're sending something that I'm going to like...

Hmmm...



UPDATE: Oooh. I definitely liked what they sent me. Definitely. Definitely. Definitely.

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A: Why so glum, sugarplum?
D: Everything looks the same now.
A: So, change it.
D: I don't know how. I think, I can't.
A: Ahhh. Well, there's your problem right there.
D: Yeah, yeah, you with your fantastic smart lines. You're not in my position. You don't know.
A: Well, see now that is exactly where you're wrong. Yes, you heard me. You're wrong. You're wronger than wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
D: Wrong?
A: Wrong.

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Secrets.

We've all got them, I'm sure.

Mine, of course, are all out in the open.

...Or so you think.

There are some things that will just never ever be known to anyone. No amount of digging will ever ever tell you what you want to know... The only way you'd ever find out is if I tell you.

If you want to know something, ask me. Don't lurk around like a crazy person. Just ask me.

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Friend: Nakakatawa kayong mga photogs. Pagandahan kayo ng model. Para kayong may Barbie.

Nyarflarharharhar.

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I was searching for pictures of Courtney Love (For reasons that I can't disclose. Blahahaha. Tsk.) and I saw threads of how a lot of people think that every song she writes is about Kurt.

And I started thinking about what people think of when I write stuff. Granted, I'm not as famous as her or at all and I'm not linked to anyone famous. I wonder, still. Especially the people who stalk me, I wonder who they think, I write to or about... Haha. Tsk.

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Another Friend: Nakakasuka na kasi minsan ang pretentiousness dito. Kung hindi lang dahil sa family, give up ko na Multiply ko.

Tsk... And I'm really sorry, but I definitely have to agree. Tsk.

Nakakasuka na nga talaga... Plasticity at its finest...

Cool. Astig. Galing. Awesome. Sweet. Master. Henyo. Good job. Fantastic. Wow. Panalo. Nice. Hot. Great. Grabe. Super. Magnificent. Ganda. Aliw.

Lichi.

There's a big difference between being nice and plain tupperware-yness.

Unfortunately for all of us, the latter is fantastically rampant out here. Yes. Fantastically. Tsk.

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I'm being asked to hold a workshop on Ghetto Photography.

Blahahaha.

Tsk.

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I'm still waiting.

There's a lot of waiting going on these days. Tsk.

I hope something picks up soon. Buh-cauzz... I. Am. Getting. Bored.

Not that I'm not having fun... I just want something new. And exciting.

Mmmm...

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I went into the kitchen and turned the exhaust fan on. And memories suddenly came rushing in. It's like when you smell something and suddenly you're brought back into that place, only for me it was the sound of the exhaust fan. I stared on as it whirled, rapidly blowing out "bad air". It dawned on me that no one, no matter how they try, could ever equal how I love. Romantically, that is. And I know that sounds absolutely boastful and proud, but it's true.

What do you do with thoughts like that?

And just then as easily as the memories came, it went, probably blown out along with all the "bad air".

Tsk.