I don’t like waking up, for everytime I open my eyes, the thought that there are more days that I have to wake up alone — feeling empty as always — pierces through my skin like white-hot pins and needles. It makes me realize that I miss those days when I would eagerly wake up because I want to talk to you; or that I would rush myself to the bathroom, ignoring my breakfast because I need go to a place with you. And of course, those sleepless nights we spent together. I thought repetition will dull the shock out of it, but I guess I was wrong. Every time I wake up, it poignantly crawls on me that those days are gone now, and that there is nothing left but memories, a blanket and a couple of pillows I soaked in tears every night.

Waking up is just so fatal.

Has it ever dawned your mind how arduous it has been for me? It’s like feeding myself with nothing, making my innards go berserk; it’s like taking my pills and half-drugging myself to death every time you usurped my sanity.

Sometimes it feels like my world is suffocated with its own oxygen; crouching under the intoxicated, nicotine-tinged atmosphere as though gasping for a fresher air to breathe, hailing feebly for survival.

This is, as I have now realized, a turmoil. And I am writing this with what little sanity I have left.

Unpopular Opinon: On Mr. Lao

Christoper Lao's incident have circulated the new media quite fastidiously than the drying of his pants. It has even reached other continents and even Trend-ed on Twitter. Quite normally, it has been subjected and referred to as something funny, and that was not even difficult to fathom.

However, as I see it, people have been abusing the new media in such a wrong way. True enough, Mr. Lao's incident has not only been a laughable matter, but has also been the basis of his identity as a person. With all prejudices aside, when I found out about the incident, I did not know yet that he was a student in UP-Diliman (my former school), but then, I did not find his 'adventure' quizzical.

I have been driving for more than a year now, and I live in Malabon. As we all know, Malabon easily gets soaked and flooded, so it's quite easy for me to predict if I should storm my car in the flood or not since I have been living here since I can remember. Moreso, I share the same feeling of driving in a place you know very little things about, especially if you drive under the same circumstances.

If you can still remember, Mr. Lao complained about the lack of traffic signs, of enforcement that will signal the motorists that the flood is not merely passable by any vehicle. Also, from where he came from, the road was dry and then suddenly there's this flood. It would clearly state that the flood is not passable if on the other end of the road, the flood flows into a continuum--but as we all know, it did not. There is only a little flood stuck in between two spaces lying on the same road.

If I were on his shoes, I would have done the same thing. Not only no one stopped me when I assaulted the flood, but there was also no enforcement or at least a signage that should have been put there to remind in-coming motorists.

I agree that the way he justified his complain is not very well-thought of. But who on Earth will still be able to think thoroughly after such aggravation?

Come to think of it.