City Chain
I'm not really O K A Y. I wanted to spend my day inside my comfort zone which is my bedroom. Apart from distractions. My plan didn't happen. My mom and I went to the mall. To relax a bit, I gave a treat to myself. Foot spa. Then we went at Nike and my mom bought me a new Presto watch. I wanted to get the black one, but she became hesitant because it might be hard for me to see the exact time, she said. So I chose the clearwater. Nice. I also bought a novel book, accessories and a shirt with a Pearl drumset on print! Darn, I so love it.
Current thought: I miss my Pearl. Jet black drums. I want to go home.
Earlier before going to the mall, I was searching for my pair of Zildjian drumsticks. That pair isn't my favorite, but there are so many memories that would let me be reminded of whenever I'll use those sticks. Ugh. I don't know what's wrong. Maybe it's the thing that up until this moment, I haven't gotten a case for drumsticks. My 1st lost the other pair of it. My Peter Erskine signature sticks are lost. Now, should I consider my Zildjian pair missing? Not yet! Oh please.
Restraining myself from thinking, no such form of complete denial. Last night, thanks to 4L girls (hs classmates), they made my night. I cannot say that there came hiatuses of thought. I wouldn't say that.
Now I'm here, facing the computer and rambling of words starts to be concentrated towards me. I stir. Carefully. Breathing. Thinking. About to taste. Maybe these things I extract are just plain words, nothing deep to dig. Let me say that I am here to say things about my life. My happiness. Share my suffering. Share the beauty of life.
I'm thinking that this act is like an unceasing self-obsession. I see nothing wrong though. I assume that someone who isn't self-obsessed about the circumvolution of things around him can be so boring. Being aware and able to promulgate each little thing that he is up with isn't a must, but I see its mark. Years later, these thoughts I've extracted will testify that I am one of the runners in this planet.
By the way, I await for exhibitionism. Weird term for someone who will celebrate for his existence.
Current thought: I miss my Pearl. Jet black drums. I want to go home.
Earlier before going to the mall, I was searching for my pair of Zildjian drumsticks. That pair isn't my favorite, but there are so many memories that would let me be reminded of whenever I'll use those sticks. Ugh. I don't know what's wrong. Maybe it's the thing that up until this moment, I haven't gotten a case for drumsticks. My 1st lost the other pair of it. My Peter Erskine signature sticks are lost. Now, should I consider my Zildjian pair missing? Not yet! Oh please.Restraining myself from thinking, no such form of complete denial. Last night, thanks to 4L girls (hs classmates), they made my night. I cannot say that there came hiatuses of thought. I wouldn't say that.
Now I'm here, facing the computer and rambling of words starts to be concentrated towards me. I stir. Carefully. Breathing. Thinking. About to taste. Maybe these things I extract are just plain words, nothing deep to dig. Let me say that I am here to say things about my life. My happiness. Share my suffering. Share the beauty of life.
I'm thinking that this act is like an unceasing self-obsession. I see nothing wrong though. I assume that someone who isn't self-obsessed about the circumvolution of things around him can be so boring. Being aware and able to promulgate each little thing that he is up with isn't a must, but I see its mark. Years later, these thoughts I've extracted will testify that I am one of the runners in this planet.
By the way, I await for exhibitionism. Weird term for someone who will celebrate for his existence.
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