{Bitching about. . .}

Lyrics:   As Long As It Matters  GiN BlOsSoMs

I bought a notebook that'll serve as my writing exercise/scribbles/poetry in the making journo. Met up with Mr. OK KA BA TYAN at RP to have brunch. Brought Didahaha with me. Had fun even though at the back of my mind I still have a lot of things to do.

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I am all of a sudden teary-eyed. I miss W R I T I N G!!!! I miss journal and poetry writing. I miss writing crappy  poems. The allure of writing is calling me again, I just don't know how to heed its call.

People say that writing comes from within-- from our experiences, routinary living and ordinary conversations with people. I miss writing. I haven't written a single worthy poem these days. Hell! I haven't even written any new poem for a whole 8 months. Maybe I am really just a L O S E R. . .  a no good chubby wanna be writer.

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I am growing (maturing) again. There're some things that I've just realized about me. I'm not going to tell you my gripes lest the people I am having current distaste suddenly gets a hold of this might Angel Buhawi's blog.

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Have lots of things to do but still not in the mood to do them. All I know is that I am in the mood to write. Write about what? YOU ask. Well that I do not know. All I know is that I want to write.

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Desire
is. . .

   
White heat

   
Fire in the eyes

   
Burning inside

   
Flaring

   
Glaring

   
Wanting to get out

   
Seeking a way to be Free

   
Relief

   
Tension building

   
Licking every crevice of my naked Mind and body

   
Bringing me to an orgasmic and explosive state of mind.

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I am Angel. . . wannabe writer.

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Weather Today: explosive, slacking, sexually tensed sunny happy day.