USB

imagine your insecurity box in the hand of god-knows-who

damn it. USBs are as personal as a fucking diary! ...

ok ok my bad. i'm just leaving it pretty much anywhere hence, when a dofous[i'm just upset that's why i'm referring to the person as dofous .. no offense. BITCH]needed one he thought he can use it ...


BUT don't they just freaking get it???
it is mine, mine freaking mine! ... it's not supposed to be lent to anyone to save fucking pictures in it ...

they're not even my pictures for pete's sake ...

aaaarrrrrrggggghhhh!!!!

i so fucking hate this, i've spent the last 3 days trying to come with a sensible blog post and this where i landed ... WHINING!

i know this doesn't sound like it's that big of a deal. you may even think that i'm just over reacting.

but ... it's my usb ... i write stuffs in it.

i have files that i know i should have deleted a long time ago but I just didn't have the heart to do.

i've been planning to delete some of it ... but i kept on planning and planning and never really had the guts to act on those plans ...

yeah i may have deleted some of it already, but ...

but ...

i dont know ... knowing how my tongue can be sharp at times i just chose to write my angst down instead of bursting out like a crazy person and smashing someone's face with a chair . i've written a fucking load of hateful things in it ... and if by chance someone accidentally read anyone of my evil writings i'd be turned into a wicked witch who needed to be burned alive.

you know how you used to be so scared of expressing yourself, you just choose to keep it all in. but then it's become too much for you to handle ... you figured a diary would do ... so you write, ... oh you felt so good after the long oppression ... it's good, it's fucking awesome ... until your pesky cousins[whose life's mission is to humiliate you every way possible] decided to read it out loud. even when you begged them to stop they wouldn't ... the just wanna see those tears running like pagsanjan falls.

but then somehow you felt relief, at least now they know ... maybe they will think what you've written over. ponder on it, then maybe after they're done laughing at you they will be nicer. but you're wrong. after that ... your damn feelings are turned into the joke of the century ... not minding if you feel insulted as long as it's funny to them .... you know that feeling too right? ... or was it just me? ... right?

ok ok ... it's just me. [and for the record i'm not embittered by what had happened in the past ... i just got carried away with the whole falsh back thing]


it's just that ... my stories are really personal for me ...
they're atories about my happy and sometimes pathetic life ...
i put my feelings in it.
happiness, frustrations, fears, fantasies ... all of it.

that usb has a portion of my messed up mind in it. and i'm just not comfortable with the idea that i don't know where it is. (well i do know who has it ... i just don know where it is exactly)

i really feel bad about it.

i just lost dapo-dapo out of my carelessness ... and now my USB is out there ... i've never been this paranoid about the content of my usb... i know no one would take interest ... but still,

damn it ... why am i so scared of my own damned writing? ...

the problem is ... i have on my mind everything i wanted to say but still cant say it.

blown away.

The sky was gray that day.

The wind blew pitilessly through the bending trees.

“c’mon! Get inside!” I yelled at him; from inside the building.

He was just sitting still. What’s with that bench? I thought.

Why the hell can’t he leave that damn bench?

“Come on! It’s not safe out there!!” I called out to him once more.

I am worried.

He still wasn’t moving.

Not moving at all. Not even an inch.

My heart started to throb as the wind blew harsher and harsher by the minute.

I saw books, shoes, bags … random things flying around him,

As he calmly dodge them. I can’t see a trace of fear in his eyes.

“Please … come inside.” I pleaded as I tried to walk towards him despite the wind blowing harshly against me.

I know I’m doing the stupidest thing. But I don’t give a damn.

Step by step … my heart is pounding harder than the last. The wind is pushing me away from him. As I come one step closer to him, the wind pushes me ten steps back.

I finally grasped a pole to hold on to. I reached out my hand to him and asked him for the last time to come inside. “Please” I said as tears form in the corner of my eyes

“It’s not safe out here.” He said.

“I know.” I responded then I reached out my hand to him. But he just looked at me and smiled. …

Then the wind blew him away … I saw him fly over my head, while I had myself strapped safely to that pole.

I saw him drop thirty feet from the sky.

The world around me stopped. I swear to God my heart stopped beating for a second there.

Everything has lost its color.

Everything has lost its sound.

All I can see was his lifeless body, probably ten yards away from me.

I couldn’t do anything but cry …

Had I not have second thoughts; I should’ve probably get to him on time.

He’s gone now.

That’s all I can think about.

I felt my heart broke into a million pieces.

What do I do now? I thought.

Then my eyes answered it for me.

Tears gushed down like rain. There’s no way I could stop them from falling.

It just seemed so impossible …

I thought of all the time I have wasted.

I should’ve said everything that I wanted to say.

Now I can’t do that anymore.

If only I could turn back time,

I’ll tell him everything that I needed for him to know.

But I can’t do that now … can I?

My phone rang … I didn’t feel like answering it.

I am in too much pain to deal with anything at that time.

…

Strange.

…

It was his name that registered on my phone. …

Still hopeful, or should I say naïve …

I reached out for my phone to answer it, hoping that everything I saw weren’t true.

I placed my thumb on the green button … took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

Hoping to hear his voice, I pressed it.

“hello.” I said; my voice cracking.

I slowly opened my eyes … and found myself lying on my bed.

My pillow is soaked with tears; my eyes were puffy and hurting.

Damn it was just a dream. I thought to myself.

I felt the soothing embrace of relief throughout my whole system.

The first thing that crossed my mind was ‘second chance’

Should I take this as some sort of a sign?

I thought about it again ….but …. Nah! It doesn’t work like that.