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.

Drunk_1

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.

Bah.

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.

Baboosh.

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.