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    Patricia

    Majority of my friends call me Trish, I guess you could call me that too. I'm a transcriptions editor with a really messed up body clock and never ending affinity for films, food and written words. I like street art, sweets, neutrals and monochromes, sushi, window seats, golf carts and lazy weekends.

    Some of the things that completely preoccupy me are my fixation with the now defunct The Civil Wars and their beautiful art of sadness, Oh Sehun, sleeping, CSS and HTML, @iameden, and those damn hypnotizing Tasty videos. Top country in my travel bucketlist? Iceland. But the one that will always have my heart? Hong Kong.

    Half A Serving of Sulking

    Original image by Brock Davis

    Today started with a very sunny morning but I felt like it had been raining non-stop.

    God, I'm too tired.

    As I'm gearing up for what I expect to be a beautiful weekend, some things just wouldn't quit to ruin everything. I had a rule before that when I don't want to remember something in the long run, I wouldn't write about it. It actually works because I have a terrible memory so there are some parts of my life that now seem very vague to me, all I remember are little flashbacks.

    So why am I writing about this now? Well, my head's filled up with too much thoughts and I have to tone down my inner monologue. I hope it's not too weird that I talk to myself inside my head, no? Haha. What's funny is while all this commotion is happening and I desperately wanted to talk to someone, I thought of this one person which, I was pretty much convinced, would know the right words to tell me and would understand exactly how I feel. But because I know these are all just assumptions, that person would find it really weird when all of a sudden I bared all my emotions and ~feelings~ to him/her. That would have made my morning funnier. Hahaha.

    But did you ever feel like you're a walking, breathing example of a cliche? Because I do. Right now. The only consolation with all of this is that I ended up having a better taste in music. I feel like what's been happening to me is a perfect material for soap operas and tragic love stories. Eeww.

    I just wish everything is not a fucking process. Sometimes, I even wish that Lacuna, Inc. is real. Things would have been so easy. I bet people would be lining up like it's the new cronuts.

    Honestly, I just want to rant and curse and tell the world all the hate that I feel but I won't do that. Nope. Because I'm a classy lady. Hahaha. I just want to spill a little bit here because I feel like my head is going to burst. I'll just sulk the day away. I just want a tub of ice cream and watch my favorite movies all day long. I want a pen and Post-its on hand so I could scribble down my favorite quotes and stick it at my bedroom wall. I want unlimited Tanduay Ice within arm's reach and super fast Internet connection while I'm lying on my bed. I want to read those books I've yet to read (The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time is taking me forever ugh) and not be disturbed. I want to be lost in my imagination.

    I don't want to write about this anymore, I want to write about food again and my travels and about new people. And maybe that personal project that Muffet suggested.

    One day, Patricia. One day. And I know when that day comes, I would just be laughing at this post.

    Original image by Brock Davis

    Today started with a very sunny morning but I felt like it had been raining non-stop.

    God, I'm too tired.

    As I'm gearing up for what I expect to be a beautiful weekend, some things just wouldn't quit to ruin everything. I had a rule before that when I don't want to remember something in the long run, I wouldn't write about it. It actually works because I have a terrible memory so there are some parts of my life that now seem very vague to me, all I remember are little flashbacks.

    So why am I writing about this now? Well, my head's filled up with too much thoughts and I have to tone down my inner monologue. I hope it's not too weird that I talk to myself inside my head, no? Haha. What's funny is while all this commotion is happening and I desperately wanted to talk to someone, I thought of this one person which, I was pretty much convinced, would know the right words to tell me and would understand exactly how I feel. But because I know these are all just assumptions, that person would find it really weird when all of a sudden I bared all my emotions and ~feelings~ to him/her. That would have made my morning funnier. Hahaha.

    But did you ever feel like you're a walking, breathing example of a cliche? Because I do. Right now. The only consolation with all of this is that I ended up having a better taste in music. I feel like what's been happening to me is a perfect material for soap operas and tragic love stories. Eeww.

    I just wish everything is not a fucking process. Sometimes, I even wish that Lacuna, Inc. is real. Things would have been so easy. I bet people would be lining up like it's the new cronuts.

    Honestly, I just want to rant and curse and tell the world all the hate that I feel but I won't do that. Nope. Because I'm a classy lady. Hahaha. I just want to spill a little bit here because I feel like my head is going to burst. I'll just sulk the day away. I just want a tub of ice cream and watch my favorite movies all day long. I want a pen and Post-its on hand so I could scribble down my favorite quotes and stick it at my bedroom wall. I want unlimited Tanduay Ice within arm's reach and super fast Internet connection while I'm lying on my bed. I want to read those books I've yet to read (The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time is taking me forever ugh) and not be disturbed. I want to be lost in my imagination.

    I don't want to write about this anymore, I want to write about food again and my travels and about new people. And maybe that personal project that Muffet suggested.

    One day, Patricia. One day. And I know when that day comes, I would just be laughing at this post.

    . Wednesday, November 27, 2013 .

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