OcTOber is the Month I've been Freed

 --is the tenth month of the year in the Julian and Gregorian Calendars and one of seven months with a length of 31 days. The eighth month in the old Roman calendar, October retained its name (from the Latin "octo" meaning "eight").- I copy and paste Wikepedia most of the time.
OCTOBER SYMBOLS

• October's birthstone is the opal. It is said that the opal will crack if it is worn by someone who was not born in October.
• The Zodiac sign for those born in this month is either Libra or Scorpio.

When I googled October for some images, pumpkins popped in the screen. I forgot that October is all about Halloween. Sadly, I haven't participated in any Halloween-related-celebrations, though I'm pretty sure I'd be a witch in a broomstick.

I will become legit tomorrow. 18 years of Chimerical existence can you believe that? Well. I don't want to. People says its freedom but I doubt it, a Philosopher, whose name I cant recall ,once said that a man is born free, so technically I've been free my whole life but i haven't really practiced that so called abstract word (is it?) and it is by both choice and force, so I cant have anyone to blame even myself.

LIBRA HORROR SCOPE FOR THE DAY

Someone could call you at the last minute with tickets and an invitation to some kind of event you wanted to attend but could not afford. You need some time to re-create yourself, but your finances may be tight. There are creative solutions available.
- Im not really a sole believer on stuffs like this but they are good things to read, specially when the sky is pouring and as long as it's not about death and morbid.
I ended up September last night tagging photos, writing back to random people, availing pdf version of books (I  like hard copies better but it's damn FREE, how can you not click download?) , reading "HOW TO TEACH FILTHY RICH girls" , watching Will and Megan in Privileged ( i thought she'll end up with Mr Headmaster Cassidy, clearly its been years) with a mug of a classic Coffee until 11. 


How I started October the first?

Reading chapter 20 and beyond. Aside from Megan, Sage and Rose I don't have any humane characters in the house. Other living creatures I'm confined with are three dogs,bends, dobby and nameless( owned by someone else so he wasnt baptized with any name). The sky is pouring hard so I guess people within the same kilometer radius as me would be doing the same , just thinking. 
I want wrte about my positive intuitions in this stage of my life but sadly Im a self-proclaimed pessimist, blame my childhood for that. I don't see any light in my life, maybe I need to take a break from my pessimistic nature for a while.How would that work exactly? Aside from growing old, I have other matters to worry at(too shallow to mention).

Wake me up when September Ends

.....Last night of the month ......

BLOOD, NEEDLES AND OTHER PAINS

So according to this Lancet Test, I am blood type O, the universal donor. I remember the first time I asked my mom about it, she said O but I didn’t believe it because I thought she just wanted to make me feel good because at that time I was gaga for Meteor Garden’s Vic Zhou, who according to his poster, was type O. 
But on September 26, 2011 I saw the truth when none of the A and B labeled blood droplet coagulated. Being labeled as a universal donor, I think I could use thy said name. It would be anti-social to refuse when asked to donate isn’t it? Torturing yourself with a tiny needle sure needed guts. ( too bad I couldn’t act like Rhianna in love the way you lie, I was never a masochist) When I got my ear cleaned when I was about 14 years old, the doctor said that I have a high pain tolerance so I guess I made the cut of being a martyr in terms of physical pain anyway.
 How could something so thin and colorfully packaged result to pain? But maybe that is just how life goes, we tend to watch out for great things but the small things that we choose to neglect are the ones the holds us back. Every time we formulate plans for success, with every detail shined and polished often crashes because we tripped over a rock. So the lesson I learned that day, aside from my blood type, is that minor details matters.
  

solitary confinement

I don't have any blood connection to this kid. I never even knew he existed before he appeared in my eyes on a rainy Thursday. But as I began to notice his doubtful black eyes, instantly I recognized a person I presume I knew my entire life. ME. 
As seen, he was perfectly contented on doing his own thing and neglecting the presence of other souls in that room. I saw myself in him when I was just a size of a chair where my feet could hardly reach the stable ground I was destined to step into. 
I continued to spy on him while the remorse of my ill-fated childhood came rushing back to me as I began to open and dwell on a past that I personally sealed to prevent myself from entering it once again. 
The past is a lonely time or place or space to visit. 
What worries me at that time was how he would face this cruel world when he is defeated by a mere number of children he was confined with at that stage of his life. I was never a warrior but I wished I was and I wish he is. 

I’ve never spoken. I’ve never laughed. I’ve never ran. I’ve never shouted. I’ve never danced. I’ve never sang. I’ve never hugged. I’ve never kissed. I’ve never loved. I’ve never cared. I’ve never given. I’ve never trusted. I’ve never grieved. I’ve never seen. I’ve never heard. I’ve never tasted. I’ve never told. I’ve never pushed. I’ve never done. I’ve never helped. I’ve never talked. I’ve never felt. I’ve never thought. I’ve never won. I’ve never feared. I’ve never lived.   


I’ve been zipped. I’ve been fake. I’ve been slow. I’ve been hushed. I’ve been still. I’ve been shut. I’ve been stoned. I’ve been closing. I’ve been loathing.  I’ve been selfish. I’ve been stealing. I’ve been suspicious. I’ve been whimpering. I’ve been blind. I’ve been deaf. I’ve been burned. I’ve been told. I’ve been steady. I’ve been nothing. I’ve been difficult. I’ve been listening. I’ve been numb. I’ve been blank. I’ve been lost. I’ve been  empty. I’ve been dead.

Gulping an Iced Coffee Saga:
  Black Rainy Wednesday
In a gloomy atmosphere, amidst the sea of familiar faces, I was searching for a few people, then as if it had to happen, out of nowhere the face I cant seem to resist appeared towards me in his black hoodie and he passed like flash of lighting, too fast but too blinding to miss with his usual head-turning entrance and just like every encounter, I had step back to the sideline.
   
Thursday Umbrella news

As the dark sky continued to eradicate it’s wrath, we remained under the seemingly stable shed to wait for it to calm down. Just as random people marched to seek for shelter, I noticed a luggage that once in a while signals me to smile and almost expectedly the figure that carried it appeared. He didn’t seem to be part of the crowd, he seemed to just belong in his own universe. With his gaze only reserved forward and never to glance sideways, I lingered wearing my invisible soul. A few moments of both physical and soul-absence passed, a rumor weed appeared beside me and preached an information that made my consciousness erratic. The moments I was in bliss are only counted by seconds for I  grasp that nothing altered for my sake.

CAllan Ryan Claude Mcauliffe : Neurotic Aussie

This Neurotic Aussie thinks that a guy asking a girl out is sexist. He stated that a girl should ask a guy out!  That’s one thing I wont be able to practice even if hypothetically I have already won the battle against myself, so I guess Maria Clara and I really live in the same era. In the hundreds of chic flick I have already memorized, a female specie somehow surfaced, showed superiority. I want to be that person or maybe I already am since "I don’t think the person I am outside is the person I am inside" (I wish I could remember who quoted this). It all boils down to my inferiority, I loathe this gloomy word. I just feel so stupid. I'm am near my adult years yet i'm still stuck with a teenage dilemma. 

http://miawitch.blogspot.com/2011/09/callan-ryan-claude-mcauliffe-my.html

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