Lazy from C-Z

It pains me greatly to bear this normal-hormonal stage, much more so that I am a man. But this separate bipolar entity (whatever it is), winning, will never succeed in my ultimate self-assassination. Whatever happens will happen but it never happens if it's never wanted.

All in all I had a wonderful week. Something to treasure in my heart but not something I can say I did it flawlessly. I felt pathetic as a matter of fact. My performance was, for a lack of a WORSE word, lacklustre. I never felt so disappointed in my life. It was then that I realized how much that moment valued for me. I cannot let this go. I must have it. There is just no other way, I said. Lunch break came and I was so down, emotionally broken. I need to do something. I have to find a way to counter the said counter Thomas was talking about. Lunch break finished, I'm still at the tip of my temper. Should I give up? I shouldn't even have considered that miserable question. It would have been over the moment I entertained that. Lady luck was fucking with me without actually touching me, and never have I felt so insulted in my life. Another five stinking minutes of break and still no signs of success, I felt Thomas was picking on me now. God damn it Cil, you just have to DO it, a...

And I'm going to bed. This is a very disturbing feeling. I hate this godawful dilemma. 

It's sad that I uninstalled my crappy Microsoft Office 07 earlier today. I expected it to be nice but it ended up to be quite sadistic and annoying. It bothered me ever since I started using it, and now it's finally gone. It went to recycle bin heaven. It was annoying because it kept on changing formats every single time I press the enter key and quite frankly no matter how I changed it, it just goes back the way it was before I fixed it, and so I re-fixed it and end up awfully in another dose of fail. I need the older one. The more simpler the better. I'd have none of this bullcrap shit. This was like Chael Sonnen, a master mouth diarrheist, hell bent on taking over the world with its advanced skills and sharp takeovers. Three minutes left until he's supposed to upset the opponent, he just falls short. That's MS Office 07. Chael fucking Sonnen. I'm in dire need of any writing program and this blog-shit would probably do but I need it for the script which I oh s...

I was taking a walk When I saw you pass by I don't know what's next really. I just heard this a few seconds ago from Zooey.

So I grabbed a quick shower and a good old fashioned body scrub earlier today, speakers go boom across the tiny hallway which isn't really a hallway at all but I like to call it that to make it sound 'choice' to us uninformed bros. I learned that from Kiwi colloquialisms. I dare ignored Oscar who I fucking want to show who's boss. Ha! I'm the boss! I was always the boss. Although, technically he was the boss, now the former. I'm not really a boss per se, but someday I will be. More than what he was. More than what I'm supposed to. I am that awesome. Who's awesome? I'm awesome! I scratched my balls with the towel and dragged my sore carcass to my room were my future awaits me. All the devious plans start here, and I need to manipulate people into doing what I want because I am that intimidating. There's no such thing as 'no' in my vocabulary, except for wimminz that dare sayeth thy cursed word upon moi. When my plan bears fruition, they wi...

It was awful, she said. What? Of course not, she affirms. What do you mean of course not, asks the man. Of course of course not! She yells in high, deafening pitch. The whole room cowers beneath the wooden tables in fear and shock. One man slowly rises up and smiles awkwardly. He says hi to you all. She calms and smiles back. He runs away. What a pussy. He should die, whispers another guy cowering. Why? Asks the lady beside her. Because he’s a pussy. Don’t say that, she angrily responds. Why not? Asks the guy. Because it’s inappropriate! By this time she was getting pretty annoyed with him, another woman beside her can tell. Her face was fuming with rage and thunder, she reckons. Okay! Get the fuck out of here, all of you! Says the angry, yelling woman. Why? Asks the annoying guy. BECAUSE I SAID SO! The whole room became red with incessant rage.

I was waiting for the bus earlier going home from my Brazilian acquaintances' house party and I see a guy in sweat shirt and Spandex shorts jogging behind me. At first I was ignoring him but remained cautious that he might be dangerous and violent so I kept vigilant of the matter. He turns around and comes back then I thought maybe this guy does not have a clue what he is doing or where he plans to go, and the weather is just too awful to be jogging alone on the sidewalk. He pops up out of nowhere beside me and asks, "Do you know what time it is?" Surprised, I hastily open my held Playstation Portable, late to realize that my phone was actually easier. I felt it freezing on me for a couple of awkward seconds and a slight sense of panic begins overcoming me. Finally it opens up and the clock stares back at me in hazy detail. "3:43 a.m.," I replied to him. He nods in acknowledgement and follows up in a swift manner, "Do you want a blowjob?" I felt my br...

It is a familiar feeling you may or may not have experienced before. Perhaps you have heard of it, read of it, or maybe it is quite archetypal and common. Fact of the matter is that it delivers the sort of intrigue that glues oneself into that storyline. A plot that thickens and thins out before you notice everything has to end unorthodoxly. Then shortly after feeling as though everything was an awesome mess, you slowly realize this faux pas was anything but a fluke. A good fluke at that. Sure it entertained me, kept me wanting for what is next in store, but the entire thing fell short in creating that chaotic vibrancy common amongst these types of bittersweet screenplays. That emphatic feeling that was supposed to be there was almost nonexistent, and if present was lacklustre. That 'woe is her' feeling then became another 'oh it's her' and I certainly doubt either part or the crew intended for that to happen for what was to become mishaps of wasted potential. The ...

Custard doughnuts, strawberries WITH cream, three chicken drumsticks, an entire plate of chicken doner kebab, a tuna sammich, Cadbury cracker sticks, next-door pizza, a pending potato and leek soup, beef and mushroom soup with another round coming up next, bottles of Pepsi Max, bottle of Oasis, bottled water, semi-skimmed milk, cranberry and raspberry tea, and summer cocktail. Fuck my mouth-to-ass ratio, Batman!

Are You Gonna Be My Girl - JET at O2 Empire Shepherds Bush with my friend Julia. Awesome night. A little short but still great.

A slight, vibrant chill meets him in the old alley where he frequents to that night. It is different amongst all others, he thinks. He has never felt the impact of the weather for he was too busy a man to be interrupted by earthly calamities. He puffs a final one from his cigarette which kept dying on him now and then due to the cold. He flicks it away and the cigarette hits the ground spraying tiny, sparkling lights all over that dark path. Shelly is just behind him, safeguarding and remains alert for whatever purposes that may arise for this situation. 'Anything is possible' is what she always believed in. Her old buddy, Jenkins, could attest to that. If he was still alive, that is. Now she works for Raoul. The world's most beloved criminal. At least that's what Raoul tells them anyway. Raoul has a weird fascination for Shelly. Although he does not mingle much with most of his Everymen, he spends an awfully lot of time with her, even made her his personal right-hand E...

Good laugh for a couple o' hours before some of them whiteknightfags sooked cook on all the funneh.

I expected the worst possible scenario but so far, so good. I'm liking it. I ended up reformatting the entire OS due to the fact some shitty, creepy /b/tard gave me powerful trojans that even my almighty antiviral software was not unable to detect and eliminate. I'm not all that mad and I don't totally hate /b/ since I was gullible enough to fall for their mischievous intentions, and I wanted to switch OS long before this happened anyway. 

I've been cleaning my room and even my console and the things inside my room as well as my laptop and its icons and the theme and my folders, so basically I did a lot of things. Petty things, probably, but worthy of minor praise. Blame /b/. I've been hanging there for a couple of days now and, my, is it a frightful but refreshing experience. My IQ decreased by as much as 10% since then but I'm still elated for no apparent blissful reason but to shut up. Anyway the struggle is at its full gear still and unfortunately the stupid Studio didn't accept me as a worthy leader of their summer camp. Probably figured I'm a pedobear or something, who knows what the reasons are. I personally thought I did a wonderful job during the interview. Anyfuckingway, moving on, I have to move on in order to move my life which is immovable due to a lot of stupid circumstances, like, everyfuckingthing, but it's all right. I have to believe in something. God, I sound ridiculous. Optimis...

Finished draft on my first short. Not so epic as I had hoped but it's intriguing. Proud of it, I so am.

Japanese Garden Party @ Hammersmith Park. Photo by Cil Rand (Me, me, me).

I'd wait for you, I'd slave for you I'd be a beggar or a knave for you If that isn't love it will have to do Until the real thing comes along I'd gladly move the earth for you To prove my love, dear, and it's worth for you If that isn't love it will have to do Until the real thing comes along With all the words, dear, at my command I just can't make you understand I'll always love you darling, come what may My heart is yours, what more can I say? I'd lie for you, I'd sigh for you I'd tear the stars down from the sky for you If that isn't love, it will have to do Until the real thing comes along I'd lie for you, I'd cry for you I'd lay my body down and die tor you If that isn't love, it will have to do Until the real thing comes along

Mama may have Papa may have But God bless the child that's got his own That's got his own

Japanese Garden Party at Hammersmith Park. Photo by Cil Rand. (Hey, that's me!)