Rage over Bangus Belly

July 7th, 2007

My eye bags are puffed out and I’d accidentally witnessed the mating of two lizards on our dining table. The house is eerily silent and I’m left alone to vent out the feeling of loneliness. I am not into doing the TV Marathon thing just to simmer up. The wind offered only a minute comfort when I’m sitting inside this room. I just got out to break away from the sudden muscle spasms I’m having and head splitting headache. I am really bored. I could only say work is nothing but a sinister alliance. I am fortunate I still have it over my shoulders but I’m outrageously mad with my unchanged schedule. I’m practically over the depths of being dead from having to burden myself with my system proposal and not having enough time to take a trip to down-to-where-that-place-may-be for my subject for the proposal. The City Public Library did me no luck although I was beginning to love its ambiance. Now, I’m deciding on going to my Alma Mater (CCS) to snoop over its book center and probably could plant out a problem from it’s current system.
This is what I hate most: I am not a dedicated programmer and I’ve long decided not to be one forever. I’ve almost wanted to quit, if it hadn’t been to the unending support from my workmates, I wouldn’t have budged from submitting my unfinal proposal. I have to play active so as my professor wouldn’t think of me slacking around. Now, I am to work again at eight o’clock sharp at night, I’d be dead beat by four-thirty o’clock in the morning. Do you think I’d still get the time to take a trip to my school to give my professor some updates? Hell, no! I’ve been cramming for too much patience and optimism. I am so tired but I don’t want to get this in my way. Got too much in my mind for my future, and I don’t want to be left off by tomorrow’s train. Here I am, on the verge of being the person who isn’t really good at finishing things. Probably this is what I was trying to prove, not the relentless act of being the estranged daughter but rather the satisfaction over conquering my fear of having to succeed. I am a walking mouth of bitterness, I am not frightened in saying what I have in mind out loud but I am a complete loser when it comes to my wants. Now that it got me awake (AGAIN), I’d have to tightly close my eyes to cross the thread for a bridge.



Bangus belly, in case you’d be wondering about it. It has been served on our tables since last week and I’m bloated!