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T-Shirts
Friday, May 08, 2009

When did you start tearing us apart. Tearing us apa-a-a-a-art.
I will write you a song, that's how you know my love is so strong.
It's our time now.
I've got your loving.
I wanna take. You. Down.
It's what you do to me-e-e-e. Ohh.

I can't write when Plain White T's is blasting (softly playing) in the background because the instrument of the modern relationships (desktop) must be kept running while downloading Rock&Roll legends. Why I'm downloading the pinnacle of loud music and exotic instrumentals is quite a mystery. Translated: Partly known. I saw a note I wrote four calendar flips ago, it says: Download this. Reason is simple: I must revive my life through integrating the outside world into my sad sorry life of solitude.

Black Sabbath discography: 1 week, 1 day; BAD.
Guns N' Roses: 2 days, 12 hours; BETTER
Led Zeppelin discography: 5 days, 13 hours; BEARABLE
Queen (Greatest Hits): 4 hours, 59 minutes; THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT.

The sad thing part is this: I have a total of two thousand, one hundred and one songs in my iPod. I just wanted to type everything because it's longer that way. But really, out of the 2,101 two thousand, one hundred and one songs in my iPod, I probably know...fifty song titles and even less lyrics. Sore, sad, loser. Well, I will resurrect from this demise and actually embrace the very concept that can never be embraced by a particular Bianca: Records.

I don't write about relationships, because it's embarrassing. I want to spit out a few of the forsaken sentences I jailed inside one of my limbs, or blood vessel, or prefrontal cortex, but I can't. It will be destruction. I say this, though: I jump from rebellious to touched to furious to humbled to head over heels to indifferent to truly madly. People need affection, people do. No, not really, girls do. You know what, there's one image I can never, ever, imagine to exist, is men in love. They all seem so...manly and worldly, I can't picture the Y-chromosome bearers to be crazy about a particular girl. It's just...off. It's a girl thing. But certainly that's not true and my imagination is relatively limited.

It is currently filled with Tom Cruise's unfading glory. Which makes his lack of height unfading, too. But then again, height is isn't everything. (It took the entirety of my will to write that.)

I'm not making any progress. I pity the months I didn't write, they're not part of my Blog Archives. :(

P.S. My T-shirts are lost. I can't find them. They're either A, in my Mom's closet, or B, stolen. Which is more likely?

Photobucket
21:20

Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?

Photobucket

Bianca Ruiz;
17;
Assumption Antipolo;
Ateneo de Manila University;
Management Engineering;
Occupation: Professional sleeper; Addiction: The faded era of the orange ball & persuation & color pigments;
True Addiction: Me&You.

Out To Me

Dead
Double Dead
Y!M
anca613703@yahoo.com
Email
anca613703@yahoo.com
mariabiancaleanneruiz@yahoo.com
biancaruizmatters@yahoo.com

I Constantly Thank God For Esteban Hearts

* scent of paint
* Books (with the S)
* Debate!
* Basketball (End Here)
* Tickets and jellybeans
* Reese's
* sofas
* Da Vinci, Monet, Progress, Progressive
* loving && much more loving
* Touch screen @-)
* Candy && Chocolate Bars && String Cheese!

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