This morning, I had this unholy craving for salt. Or Lucky Me Instant Pancit Canton, I chose the latter. I do not know why every time I
get a hang-over I feel the need to stuff myself with salty food.
I want to remember last night. I want to fold the conversation in my head. The one I had with good friends (Sophia Maria and Johanna Marie) so as that i can remember some of the lessons I learned over that short period of time. But I forget about most of it now, I blame the fact that I stumbled and fell several times from the subdivision gate to the house, looking like the town drunk in flipflops and shorts. There is a certain loneliness to it, going home late on a Monday night alone with no one to worry whether you made it home safe. But then again, I will contradict myself because I know I do not like being patronized.
After not-drunk talk about promotional posters, iPod music, cuddling, boys fascination for drama, and mixed signals, I think I can safely say that:
get a hang-over I feel the need to stuff myself with salty food.
I want to remember last night. I want to fold the conversation in my head. The one I had with good friends (Sophia Maria and Johanna Marie) so as that i can remember some of the lessons I learned over that short period of time. But I forget about most of it now, I blame the fact that I stumbled and fell several times from the subdivision gate to the house, looking like the town drunk in flipflops and shorts. There is a certain loneliness to it, going home late on a Monday night alone with no one to worry whether you made it home safe. But then again, I will contradict myself because I know I do not like being patronized.
After not-drunk talk about promotional posters, iPod music, cuddling, boys fascination for drama, and mixed signals, I think I can safely say that:
We're all junkies who desire to be adored.
Maintenance Hall, 5 am | Count Stars on the Ceiling
