Little Black Book
"I believe we write our own stories and… each time we thought we knew the end? We don’t. Perhaps luck exists, somewhere between the world of planning, the world of chance and in the peace that comes from knowing that you can’t just know it all. Life’s funny that way. Once you let go of the wheel, you might end up right where you belong."
The question: how does a girl who jumps into a rabbit hole, plummeting into chaos, come out unchanged? The answer: she doesn’t.
I’m having a little Brittany Murphy marathon moment.
Trivia: Brittany Murphy’s real name? GEORGIA PEACH SHARON MURPHY! HAHAHAHAHAHA! I love it.
I started with Clueless, followed by Uptown Girl and now, Little Black Book. I’ve seen all three films countless of times but I wanted to watch them again so that’s exactly what I did. Amazing how Brit got even more famous (and made more movies) than that fat cow Alicia Silverstone. Oh well.
I really love Little Black Book. I know, I know. My taste in films is insane.
Which reminds me, is it just me or are you also having that weird "year-end reflection" bullshit thing going on? Gawd. I really, really, really hate this time of the year. Let’s not even go there. I’m not gonna sit here and reminisce everything that’s happened to me in the past 12 months. I think it’s a complete waste of time. I’m not gonna make a stupid little resolutions list either because we all know everytime I plan for something (and share it publicly), none of it happens anyway.
What I’m gonna do though is reflect on the present.
What is up with people leaving? My god, someone please stop this insanity! I can’t even count the number of people who became a part of my life… and left. I churn people more than anyone else in this world — everyone joins my "circus" for a bit and departs at one point… the ones who I really develop a close bond with tend to leave me after a period of time. For instance, someone close to me is moving back to Los Angeles where he lives, one of my dear friends is moving back to Melbourne in two weeks after a year’s worth of stay here, another friend decided to pursue studies in London and another friend is still in San Francisco and won’t be back until later next month — thank god she’s on holidays and my loss is only temporary. Haha!
It’s always been like this. I think it’s a sign for me to go somewhere and get a "REAL" life.
Like that’s gonna happen. I can’t even get out of the familia de horreur’s birdcage let alone move somewhere. *sigh* I’m still attached to that umbilical cord — BY FORCE! Only time will tell as to when I’ll be able to move out. It sucks that my younger sister has been living in her own apartment and I’m still stuck with the parentals.
All I want is for them to let me go with their blessings/consent/no hard feelings. Perhaps a little bit of manola ($$$) to create a new life with. After that, I’m out of their hair. Completely.
But no. They want to play it the hard way — the "we’ll say when you’re ready to move out" big song and dance way. For some strange reason, they’d think I’d go over to the dark side to my crazy old antics and snort my septum away as soon as I move out.
They cannot seem to understand that I’m at this weird point of my life where everything is stagnant and I’m in desperate need of something different. Maybe "different" is not the right word to use… "new" would probably be appropriate. Something that would evolve me into a bigger person/entity. Something that would even bring me greater opportunities and experiences — I want to be inspired once again in order to do/create more…
HELLO!! I’m supposed to be at my prime… my most productive years!! I don’t think anything will happen unless I change my environment.
Oh well. Who knows what the future holds.
Or maybe… just maybe… all I need right now is a nice man (that
my LeslieElliottCaccee Mauricio would approve of) in a navy blue suit to whisk me off my feet and give me a good ol’ rogering snogging.
What do you think? I take that back. We all know I have this unusual (and unhealthy) weakness for fit, young, well-hung twinks that look as if they came out of a Bel-Ami DVD. Hahaha!
Which reminds me… I’m gonna go now and shave my crotch. My stubble down there is giving me the itch.
Email me and tell me you love me. My email address is firstname.lastname@example.org or SMS +63.915.785.1492.
I love you all, as always.