how things change, and how people change.

and how only you remain constand even as you change.

constant because, why the hell would i betray myself.

we found out that 67 passes by almost every mrt station on the east line.
we complained about old friends going astray.
we got busted, badly.
we had fun and games and charades and taboo.
we ate at a blah place but we had fun.

and i can't help but think that most, if not all these might be gone soon, if things do or do not go according to wishes. not that some of it being gone would be a bad thing.

what am i talking about?

i hate being treated like used tissue, and being discarded when i am no longer needed or am no longer useful, when i am stained with your dirty uncleanable mucus and nose discharge. good job, you. good job.

let me just reiterate one more time how much i just LURRRVE the shii-devil !

quixoticka eulogized @ 12:00:00 am