a nuisance?

It was 3:00 am and I am still sitting on a chair, in fetal position, and is in front of a device that could only tell me to slap my brain of it’s thought and juice. I’m actually still thinking of what to write in this post since the blog is about 1 month dormant (In which I think, is very inactive, oh well, not that it is required to be…). It’s actually bugging me this days, that notion in which, I really have to put something in my blog. So, I ended up writing this frivolous paragraph whose aim is to give my simplistic thought time to think about anything interesting. To the author. And that is me.

This blog is to my satisfaction, although I would love to see the charts change sometime. It’s quite boring you know? Not having any visitor at all? Mind you, all posts are in the front page, in their complete form. It’s just that, YOU SHOULD READ THEM, at least. Anyways, like I said, this blog is to my satisfaction. I write not to entertain, I write to vent. I write not to pleasure, I write to contemplate. The times wherein I post something here are the times in which I find myself melancholic, thus, the Gothic mood of some entries, and the deep irrationality of the essays. I feel myself more in those times.

Now it has come to a time where I cannot think like that anymore. I actually feel sad about that. I cannot find the me that can write those things anymore. I don’t know, I may just not be in the mood. Who knows?

Not that you care. Well, I don’t think you would. You do not even exist. The you who would read this crap. Now I am sadder.

To realize that you just write this in air, then nothing.


Hello? Do you speak my language? I can speak yours.


That is not gibberish. It has structure and grammar. You do understand it. And you have no choice but to. It is a fact. A proposition whose truth value is 1.

Now I am being silly. No. I might be being silly, but I am not. It is only a materialization of some thought that this blog entry has something to do with a spaceship from the sea. I can read your mind though. And I know that you are now lost in thought. And in sync with the oneness of disorientation.

Back to the topic. But where is the topic. Should I make one? No. You made one already. Its about a cat. Who is very hard to kill. And has only one life. Contrary to popular belief. That it has nine.

A cat is consigned to a limbo. A limbo is consigned to a cat. Then what happens? The world then turns upside down. Then how would I eat my sandwiches? I happen to eat the filling first. Then the bread. Then my hands. Then my arms. Then my chest. Then my feet. Then my head. Then my sandwiches.

I happen to know a thing or two about this word. It is a four letter word. And it is spelled as a word.

What now happens if I click that blue button labeled “Publish”? I hope the world will now realize that a mouse pointer cannot escape the boundaries of my monitor, except for the fact that I can buy another display, but it is still imprisoned.

Now for the finale. The man named “Poncho” grabbed a bottle of soda and shouted the following sentences in caps.


And so, his life ended, because there happens to be a snake inside the bottle of soda.



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