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Friday, January 21, 2005


Not mine. But I cant seem to decide if I would wish I was his ex because it would be amazing and heart-warming to have someone write about the way he feels about me in the way that he does. Yet on the other hand, I'd probably end up feeling really bad knowing that I had hurt someone so deeply.

He is to blame for my unproductive day at work yesterday because I spent half of the day reading his online journal from start to finish. I was completely enthralled by his writing. Like a moth to a flame, I clung on every word and sentence. I honestly fell inlove with how this guy writes and thinks. Hands down. I wish I could write the way he does.

Here's one of my favorites by him:

"Smoking Kills, the government warning on the left side of my pack reads – and as far as suicidal tendencies go – I really wouldn’t mind if it did. My life before nicotine addiction seemed simpler, but looking back on things, it seems that I’ve been addicted to something – or rather, someone else – for much longer. Smoking Kills, they say, but so does love. And ironically, both are leading causes of heart disease.

But like the days that I have spent without her, I find myself painfully withdrawing from what we used to be. And like some addict I hold on to the memory of her, hoping to squeeze what little I have left. But she is the drug I can no longer afford. And cannot, quite frankly, so easily clean from my system. Smoking has become my substitute it seems – an addiction I am not so eagerly proud of nor so rightly ashamed.

It seems that we are all addicts in some form or another, some of us satiated, while others less-than-so. And try as we might to maybe free ourselves from this addiction, we only succeed in substituting that which we really need.

I thought of putting aside my cigarettes for about a month, under the premise that it didn’t seem fair to finally want to fall in love with someone who didn’t smoke, and yet personally be smoking to my heart’s content. But after a few weeks of abstinence, the depressing reality finally crushed me underneath its merciless toes.

I was not smoking because I wanted to love. And with every wasted day and unsmoked cigarette, I realized that I’ve been fooling myself into thinking that it was possible – oh, so idiotically possible – to move on.

I smoke because I cannot love. I cannot love. I cannot love."

about moi

Loves the beach, wishes she had more time and money to travel, recently got hooked to climbing mountains, reads anything she can get her hands on, frustrated writer, adores her 3-year-old Lhasa Apso, Tashi, constantly needs caffeine, wonders when she'll quit smoking, and will most likely die due to liver complications from drinking too much (if the cigarettes doesn't get to her lungs first). Can't live without accessories especially big, dangling earrings, shoe freak (aren't we all?), sucker for discovering hole-in-the-wall restaurants, will ingest anything spicy, enjoys giving and receiving massages, addicted to Friends, Sex and the City and CSI, goes gaga over kids, dreams of being alone with Jim Morrison and smoking a joint with Bob Marley. Would love to party with Gwen Stefani, shop with Patricia Field, write poetry with Maya Angelou and have Sting, Nelson Mandela, Mark Twain and Bono over for dinner.

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blog worthy

Bitch, please
Blue Arden
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Caffeine Rush
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Reaching for Chocolate Stars and Sapphire Dreams
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Confessions of a Coke Addict
Confessions of an OJT Killer
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Emerald Pastures
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I came, I saw, I blogged
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Lone Star Psychedelia
Mighty Girl
Modified Memories
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Of Life and Peanuts
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*Photo Seko
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Purple Beanie
Purple Toes
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Rock the Boat
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The Digital Pinoy
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The Ultimate BlogHopper
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Undiscussable Realms
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Warcar: no bumper
What a Pansy Fancies
White Sky Project
Wytch's Brew
*freshly added


Platform Wedge Sandals by Michael Kors
Semiprecious chain earrings by Cynthia Dugan

Semiprecious chain earrings by Cynthia Dugan
Thump by Oakley (mp3 player and shades in one!)
Thump by Oakley (mp3 player and shades in 1!)

quotable quote

"Love is not love, which alters when it alteration finds."
~William Shakespeare, Sonnet cxvi

in my book bag

I Know Why the Caged 

Bird Sings by Maya Angelou


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