Home Sweet Home

Written By bryanboy

7:04AM and I just got back home from a new friend’s "dinner party" for one of my friends..

Yes, without our driver. Yes, without my sister. And yes, I had to take public transportation in the form of a taxi cab without my hardcore sunglasses to protect me from the perils and the devastating rays of morning sunlight.

It was a long journey home, I’d say 45 minutes to an hour, on my own, trying to keep my eyes open inside of the cab while drinking orange juice, staring at the window all the time.

It’s almost always like this.

Well, not the cab scenario — I couldn’t remember the last time I took a cab, but still.

"Always like this" in the sense where I have to go home all lonely and just.. let’s just say the meds my shrink that prescribed me doesn’t work. Seroxat my fucking asshole.

Don’t even mention the D-word.

I am NOT D____________ and I refuse to acknowledge that I am D______.

Well, not that I know of.

Maybe I am, in a way, but to be honest, my problems are NOTHING and PETTY compared to, say, people with cancer, or whatever.

C’est la vie eh?

I had 2 outfits for the night – I showed up overdressed in gucci + rabbit fur + faux pearls cause it’s raining but I had to change, after a couple of hours, to an old Dior t-shirt cause it was hot… and I wouldn’t want to take a cab in full-blown "there you have it" outfit.


The dinner was fun. At first it was so-so because there was a lot of people there.

Then it became more intimate. Close friends and all, which was fun.

Saw quite a few of my friends – big shout out to everyone and say hi ;)

I told myself, no more alcohol and stuff. But I just have to give in.

Gawd, I just couldn’t give up, considering it was only saturday that I got drunked to the bone.

And it was a Monday night for god’s sake!

It’s a MIRACLE for me to go out on a weekday. Seriously. I’m usually confined to my mother’s birdcage but she had to make an exception cause it was one of my friend’s birthday. Oh well.

But after this… ugh. God knows what happens next.

I guess I have to deal with it.

I’m supposed to be young, carefree, irresponsible and stuff.

But as each day comes, I’m dealing with restrictions. limitations. etc. I feel there’s a nagging voice inside my head that says I’m doing too much.


I need to sleep. I’ll sleep for a few hours and I’ll wake up impossibly fresh-looking and, erm, whatever.

Good night my readers and I’ll talk to you soon.


P.S. Big shout out to people from the Philippine Daily Inquirer, Philippine Star (Newspaper), Summit Media, Preview Magazine, people from Miami, FL and people from Miscrosoft. I love you all!

Identify yourselves bitches and send me an email. bryanboy@gmail.com.


  1. ooo… look at you being all sensitive n’ shit! i think someone needs a little breaky breaky! we’ve all been there, hon. keep truckin’.

  2. The D-word (unless you’re talking about Dipsomania :) ) is definitely get-over-able. Just keep going. You’ll be fine.

  3. Hi sweetie. I won’t say the D word, but if you are going through that, it doesn’t matter if your problems are “petty” compared to whatever. If they are your problems, they are your problems and minimizing them by comparing it to something worse doesn’t make them go away. It’s okay to be sad sometimes. Not that I want you to be sad, but if something’s wrong, it won’t do you any good to pretend you don’t have a right to be sad and to try to suppress it. That only makes it worse. Just my humble advice.
    Love you!

  4. Hello??? Could you be more gay? I guess that is what i love about you. I am a straight mom, who loves dior, louis vuitton and Balenciaga. You are a true diva. best of luck.
    Visit my blog…I think you’ll like it!
    -Ciao my gay diva boy…

  5. The D-word..hhhmmmm. I know it’s not Dior. Too bad you didn’t post a picture with a full view of the Dior shirt. Do you have a pic of the shirt? You should post a pic of it or something. Just a request…

  6. wow! i gotta hand it to you… i used to have THE night life strolling around sydney bars on weekdays but now old age has caught up. but nevertheless… hope you get through the D-word mate! a trip to Marcs or LV usually does the trick for me. anyway, take care!!

  7. Try a good old fashioned cry to get over the D-word. That’s why God invented it, to get all the bad stuff out of your body. Just go lock yourself up in your room for an hour, let it all out and then binge on ice cream. Works wonders, my dear.

  8. miSCrosoft?! sorry just itching to say that. maehruiahuriaehiurhuier!
    “I’m supposed to be young, carefree, irresponsible and stuff.”
    *sigh* i am supposed to be that,too.

  9. depression is a fucken bitch :P
    even if your probs are petty, it won’t seem like that in your head!
    soldier on :P
    your humour is inspiring, remember to always keep a pack of xanax on hand

  10. I’m just dropping by and reading your helluva long and ‘insightful’ entries.
    hail to you!
    The D-word? Shoot. Did I miss something?

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