Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 3,100 times in 2011. If it were a cable car, it would take about 52 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report. Or not. Because when I did, my computer kept on lagging.

It turns out my blog sucked in 2011, which, in return, sucks. Anyway, it’s 2012! Looking forward to a new year without resolutions.

Happy January 1st.

Keep away from the big, red, hateful man.

Kane is back. He’s totally badass again (he has a mask!). And for the past weeks, Kane, for some reason, has been at John Cena’s heels. This week, not only did he divulge his motive, but he also enlightened us about life, tackling the topic of “hate”. Why is it okay? Why do we do it? OMG, so much to learn! Here’s what he had to say (you can quote him on it):

You asked them to ‘rise above hate’, but that’s a fallacy. This world is a dark dark place. It’s okay to hate. Humans are hateful by nature. Deep down, eveybody hates. Why rise above it when the natural impulse is to embrace it, to let it consume you? People hate. They hate their bosses. They hate their neighbors. They hate their spouses. They hate their miserable existence. Rise above? That’s a fraudulent myth perpetuated by you! Hate is the seed from which we are all born. It drives us. It motivates us. It fuels our impulses. And I know that you feel it, John. You feel it swimming underneath your skin like a thousand insects eating away at you. But once you embrace the hate, you become honest with yourself. You become free. Free. What you fail to realize, John, is that with your denial, you grow weaker by the moment. And until you embrace that which you deny, you can never be truly free.

Aw, Kane wasn’t so bad after all. He even offered Cena a path to enlightenment. Who knows, maybe Cena would eventually side with this new, mask, slow-speaking, never-smiling Kane. I’d like to see that happen.

RAW was great this week. It always is when they’re in a sold-out Chicago stadium. Wishful thinking: I would someday like to be part of that crowd. For the meantime, I’m leaving you with a backstage interview of the very hot Dolph Ziggler as he muses about his win against CM Punk, 2012, and Rubik’s cubes. Watch it here.

And who could argue with me?

The Glamazon, Beth Phoenix. I was interested the first time I saw her, and during that time (it might have been 2006 then), the best female wrestlers before her were already perishing. Beth, I think, is one of those few divas that I could completely relate to. Not the prettiest or the leanest, but definitely the most dominant and is championship-material. I give women a lot of credit for the great things that they do in this world, and believe me, I give Beth Phoenix a whole lot of credit in her career. She strove her way to be on top, and now that she has gotten there, she continues to be great at it. She joined the Royal Rumble (like Jacqueline – also a favorite!), and actually eliminated The Great Khali (by means of seduction, might I add)!

Beth Phoenix is just awesome. Right now, I don’t see anyone else (aside from Natalya and Kharma) who could top her off. She’s darn wicked, never a bore. She embodies a strong presence and prevailing in-ring skills. She’s the champion as of the moment, and I believe she’s going to be just that for a long time.

"Here at SM, we got it all for you... except for cinema seats, fool!"

Christmas time – my mother, Bet, and I went to SM Fairview to watch Segunda Mano, a film created by Joyce Bernal, starring Kris Aquino, Dingdong Dantes, and Angelica Panganiban. The series might have gotten downhill over the past decades (and believe me, it really has), but we primarily planned on watching Shake, Rattle, and Roll 13, which is believed to be the last installment of the SR&R succession and supposedly the most daunting. But after seeing trailers and after reading summarized articles of said movie on the newspaper, we thought it wise to refrain from the idea and to move on to better things.

So there we were at the long snack bar, with Segunda Mano tickets in hand, and me wearing short shorts to the mall for the first time since I was eight (so breezy down there), looking to an empty Cinema 3 and the reason for this is there is no line at the entrance. No line, in all seriousness. Were we early? That’d be great.

We entered Cinema 3 with our hopes and dreams in tact, holiday spirits elevated to the roof, minds wandering what kind of fucked up monstrosity we were going to get into when – BAM! – the cinema was full! Jam-packed. Around a hundred or more people with countless others searching for vacant seats, but the horrifying part was that THERE WERE NO MORE SEATS LEFT. And we did search that entire theatre, even shamelessly asked if anyone sat at the empty seats (yes was the constant answer), but there really was nothing left. We even got a “Ma’am wala na pong seats sa taas, sa baba nalang kayo” from the usher, who, by the way, disappeared without a trace after that! I didn’t think I saw him again the entire movie. NOBODY was in charge of the cinemas before the movie began and when people started giving out complaints. And by the way, usher, no thanks for the useless suggestion because if you were doing your job like you were supposed to, you might as well have figured out that there weren’t any seats anywhere – top or bottom balcony, you moot!

We had no other choice. We had to watch this thing standing up. There were at east seventy others or more who, like us, didn’t have seats, wondering why we even wasted good money on tickets and why the guard still keeps on letting everyone in for the 3PM screening, when clearly, there were no screening times after all – just a first-come-first-serve basis! And what was even fucked-up about the system is that we never got the convenience of monoblock chairs, I mean surely there has to be some.

I couldn’t concentrate on the first parts of the film. I couldn’t stand not having a seat and getting this banged-up “privilege” of seeing these other people with seats just texting. One little kid was even playing a game on the cell phone – what, did he already watch this film that’s why he’s so bored about it?! And I am a hundred percent positive that these people right in front of us with seats had already watched the 12PM screening but just decided to stay! One of them even had a blanket on already – and her feet were even on top of one of the chair in front of her, blatantly displaying them for the world to see! It was disgusting. And to think that my mother was even worried of putting her drink on the wall barricade lest it might fall on top of Foot Girl.

Anyway, the movie was okay. I’d give a 3 out of 5. I figured it couldn’t be any worse than the last Filipino horror flick I watched, which, by the way, was a Shake, Rattle, and Roll installment. I think Kris Aquino only gets to have one role in all her horror films. Minus the bagua and the superstition, along with Mabel Domingo, I actually saw Joy Ramirez and Sandy (and I’m sure Stella was there too) – all in one movie! Ha ha! The scariest part, in my opinion was the first time we saw Dingdong Dantes go nuts, sputtering again and again, “Nandoon ako, nakita ko…!” with matching visions from his tragic past. And anyway, what’s with this thing with Mari/Mariela anyway? So *spoiler alert* she’s Mabel’s long-lost, assumed-dead sister. Surprise, surprise, she’s alive all those years, then why didn’t she come searching for her family? Also, I really thought that this film was more about a haunted handbag. Obviously I was very wrong when the dress and the car came into the film.

At first I couldn’t believe that the writers actually made it that everyone in the film believed in ghosts – except for the killer, who we had no idea was the killer up until this one scene when he had his hair parted to one side as he sported this bandage on his head. Funny how no one questioned him about that scar. There were also a lot of very random scenes that I guess the writers put up just for thrills, like *spoiler alert*, the hand that had somehow managed to fit inside the bag to grab the thieving beggar, or the part when Marie/Mariela hugged her family. Trust me, those did send goosebumps – especially to those who were sitting front row, who kept on squealing overreacting cries.

Anyway, it wasn’t all bad. And just because I like horror films, and just because a ghost isn’t the killer for once, and just because Dingdong Dantes was actually harrowing on this one, as I said, I give it a three. I think it’s fair enough. And you know what else? I slept soundly last night, which is a big deal to me. I know for one that I could never sleep for after every time I watch Feng Shui. And I’ll tell you right now that I haven’t watched that for a long time, and that maybe if I did again this moment, I wouldn’t be able to bear it. But then again, all movies are different. I guess I’m just hyped about it because I’m a huge horror fan. But whatever.

What’s amusing was that because of all the commotion, those in charge of the cinemas (if there were even any) actually forgot to switch off the lights! Ha-ha, that was banged-up because you just can’t miss Lights-Out, that’s like, the best part in the theatres! So we got a good twenty minutes with lights on, seeing all those sitting, texting people in clear view. Oh, I remember now that the usher, in all actuality, returned, only to tell those girls sitting on the wall barricade that they’re definitely NOT allowed to sit up there. Just imagine how pissed those seat-less girls were! It was highly-entertaining.

Anyway, Christmas was hectic. I managed to get a new pair of shoes, a new bottle of Banana Republic, this awesome neon yellow nail polish, and a VCD (I didn’t want the DVD, believe me) of It, the movie, which I plan on watching right about now. I know they all won’t compare to the CM Punk merchandise and memorabilia that my Twitter friends received for their Christmas. But I like these gifts and they are all that matter now.

By the way, I also set up another blog called “The Before-the-World-Ends Project!“, which posts photos for 366 days beginning from December 21, 2011 to December 21, 2012. I don’t believe in the world ending in 2012, but I set up that blog for the fun of it. I’ve always wanted a photoblog and thought I might get something done for 2012. Although it started out as a joke, the idea of the blog’s birth sort of clicked and I went with it. Check it out here.

That is all.

Oh, according to my timeline, this is my 140th blog entry. Hashtag Siiiiiick.
Happy after Christmas.

I have recently made December unofficial Jukebox the Ghost Month. This is because I always seem to get the craving to listen to the band during the holiday season. I should also review that I did find out about Jukebox the Ghost on December 2009, which really was a romantic year for me, so listening to Good Day on some virus-infested laptop at that time meant a great deal. The song spoke so much of the many ways I felt, “how good it felt to be young and loved and feel it in our bones”.

So, right after creating a crummy commendation for Let Live and Let Ghosts, which is Jukebox the Ghost’s first album, I ended up getting Everything Under the Sun, which made my ears clap during the holiday season. And although it has never played this year so much as The Killers had, the album still includes a lot of must-listen tracks that I quickly resorted to whenever I cannot describe my feelings. The band has also put on some commentaries about the tracks in their website, which, even though is not that often updated any longer, I am still urging you to read at jukeboxtheghost.com.

Up until recently, Empire became this song that I could completely relate to. The lyrics go, “My heart is my keep, and you are threatening me”, which was just how I felt when a boy gave me a letter just before the semester ended. It’s a long story. And for a while I’ve looked for songs that I could possibly relate to. And with my iPod on shuffle, Empire came up, and it just took me and my newly-found appreciation away.

The Summer Sun was a great song last summer. I really liked the onomatopoeia of the beating heart. I think I might have put that on speakers when my sister started worrying about her grades for the final semester last year. She kept on wondering about what was in store for her that summer. It was inevitable, and we didn’t know what to do. On the other hand, we had P8,000 on our pockets, and I was prepped up for a summer adventure. I knew the long summer cliches were about to come to an end and that it was so much better to find who I am and who I want to be. The song just caught me off guard with its lyrics “And when the summer sun comes you might shape up. Go back to being yourself and to the ones you love. And when the summer sun comes you might just say, ‘I got to find a way to get away’”.

Mistletoe is the best. I asked Bet to include this in that Christmas mixtape she’s concocting for our mother, but since it really isn’t a Christmas song, we refrained from that idea. But I just loved singing the chorus to this song because there’s so much heart to it. Whenever I feel all against the world, this plays and just clicks with everything else. I’m not saying that I have many lovers and that I am a groupie (nor do I want to be one if a chance passes me by). All I know is that I “know who I am, who I was and that I don’t regret either. (“If I’m to be alone, then I’ll be alone, but don’t look at me like another lost soul”)”.

Now here’s the perfect song for the year: Nobody. In the song, the word was used as a pronoun and in its literal meaning. No body. And throughout the year, this was all I felt being next to whiny grade-conscious bitches and non-supporting class/club officers and every other people that never gave a fuck about all the important projects that I was forced to do. The first line was totally agreeable: “I’ve never known why it’s a crime to say you’re not fine”. The chorus goes:

So when you feel left out
Go have a shout to nobody
‘Cause you got nobody at all
And while I’m locked out
Oh, I have a shout to nobody
‘Cause I got nobody at all

It has that feel to it when after singing it in front a few audience – assuming that they never cared as well about the lyrics – you’d feel totally proud and smug that you’ve sung it right there. So radical, dude!

There’s also The Popular Thing, which I still enjoyed despite a depressing bridge. Then there’s So Let Us Create, which made me fall in love with a lot of random ideas because of this nostalgic feel to it (nice falsetto, Ben!). And after getting these mad tiger looks from people I’ve been attempting to help, Carrying always seems like a nice remedy. The Stars – I fell in love with its lyrics the first time I heard the song. Completely surreal. I like all the songs in this album is all that is left to say!

I refuse to weigh Everything Under the Sun against Let Live and Let Ghosts because for some reason, I just cannot find them comparable anymore. There were times when I’d listen to the former and would find my mood in it, and there were times when I’d put in the latter and would feel completely attune with it. Anyway, I’ve said it before, I just really like singing along to their songs!

Well, it’s Christmas again. And I don’t see any albums coming up yet. I do see a lot of tickets for different tours. I hope Jukebox the Ghost comes here as well. For the meantime, I’m leaving you a link to JTG’s newest music video: Half Crazy.

5/5!

Very likely.

1. United States Champion (Woo-nited States Champion): Zack Ryder

Dolph Ziggler vs. Zack Ryder. This match. Zack’s kewl and Dolph’s sexy. I like both guys, so I found the match rather interesting. Not to mention, the fans in Baltimore were totally hyped the entire night. I remember retweeting Zack’s “@DolphZiggler Tonight at TLC I will #fistpumpyourface” before the show began. There would have been a riot had Zack lost. So who better come out victorious but the Long Island Iced Z himself, Zack Ryder? WOO WOO WOO YOU KNOW IT BRO!!! It takes sheer hardwork and one social media revolution to make this well-deserved Crimmus miracle happen. Here’s Zack’s dad telling the whole world of how proud he is of our favorite new US champion. So are we, Papa Broski.

2. WWE Tag Team Champions: Air Boom

I did appreciate Michael Cole dictating a rundown of why Air Boom was bound to face Primo and Epico at TLC because I really have no clue how this happened. Did this all set in motion in SmackDown! (because I’m not much of a SmackDown!-guy)? I’m guessing that I just haven’t been paying much attention to the tag team division these days. We need more, please. Anyway, heard Air Boom’s great. Hooray, Kofi and Evan!

3. Divas Champion: Beth Phoenix

THAT’S RIGHT, YOU GO SISTAH! And was it just me or were Kelly Kelly fans completely dead during this match? Whatever. We all love Beth, and Beth’s fans are solid, yo. Hope she stays champion for the longest time because she’s amazing and because I wouldn’t want any of Kelly’s cohorts as champions. Eve better turn on the dark side because I like her as well, and WE JUST CAN’T HAVE HER NEXT TO KELLYasdfghjkl;

4. World Heavyweight Champion: Daniel Bryan

I really like Bryan Danielson and his massive Internet fanbase. Shame on you Michael Cole because here is your Heavyweight Champion!!!111! That’s right! And just so you know, I never paid attention to the Big Show vs. Mark Henry match until Bryan Danielson’s entrance song came up, and I found him running to the ring with his MITB briefcase. And just like that, SHOW’S OVER – even though he never really cashed in the briefcase at Wrestlemania like he said he would. But hey, plans change, it happens all the time. Hooray for Daniel Bryan and ha-ha on those who thought he could never make it as far. I smell a giant under loose for the title though.

5. Intercontinental Champion: Cody Rhodes

What the hell. He had a match?! I’M KEPT IN THE DARK!

6. WWE Champion: CM Punk

Well la-di-da. Of course, here is your WWE Champion, CM PUNK. Best match of the night, in my opinion. I mean, he was handcuffed twice – and one of those was to a turnbuckle – and he escaped BOTH times! It was a brutal match. And Punk survived it all. And he’s STILL our WWE Champion, so ha-ha on you and your dethronement attempts, Funkman. And with this, CM Punk leads a revolution with his friends.

So what’s going to happen when you’ve got two so-called “indy schmucks” on top of the WWE food chain? Seeing the main event picture on last night’s RAW made me guffaw just a bit. On one side, we had CM Punk, Daniel Bryan, and Zack Ryder, and on another were Miz, Del Rio, and Dolph Ziggler. So… this is what had become of the WWE. Very nice. I have a feeling that we’re not going to see much of the Cena’s and Triple H’s and Rock’s in the season.

Kudos to independent wrestling. NYWC. ROH. GLORY. Take over.

Fell asleep at 12 noon and woke up at 4 PM. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.

I feel alive.

I wasn’t born so much as I fell out
Nobody seemed to notice me
We had a hedge back home in the suburbs
Over which I never could see

- The Clash (Lost in the Supermarket)

I bought a guitar. It’s an RJ Masa II guitar, and I got it for only P1,249, case inclusive. Bet and I had actually been thinking about the stuffs that we wanted to buy with our partial Christmas money (given by some generous ‘friends’), and the idea of a guitar just sprang up out of nowhere. Our parents gave our brother one for Christmas four years ago, but he ended up secretly selling it to some hoarder (I might even have blogged about it a while back). And after much debating on which guitar seemed fitting, which color, which brand, we finally landed on the doors of the recently-opened RJ Music Store in SM Fairview where this amazing folk guitar with a rich maroon gradient to it stood on sale for only P999.

Initially, Bet and I wanted a baby guitar, thinking that it would be easier to handle and much cuter than its senior version. RJ also had one for P850, but add more for the case (and in this case, it didn’t even have any so I would have to buy from another store for P300) and that’s already P1150, and only a P100 difference from the bigger guitar. I apologize if I’m annoyingly crunching numbers here. My maths is a little crummy. Anyway, after going back and forth to various guitar retailers (Store 1 was eerily hard to locate, and had very expensive shit manned by neat-freak salespeople; Store 2 was a big help, but sorry I wasted your time by standing you up; and Store 3 was one big rip-off with their babies for a thousand, seniors for two thousands, and cases for P300. What the hell?), we ended up at RJ with the friendly salespeople, and next to one rich Nobi who was looking over the pricey electric guitars with his father.

“Pasuyo nalang po.” And with those words – and believe me, Bet was in crisis about what we should say when the time came for us to purchase that shit – we were all set and everything was magical. Had a funny feeling the rest of the day after that. We even went as far as showing off the thing by carrying it on our backs walking home!

Now if only we know how to play the guitar. And nope, we don’t know how, and yep, we were aware of that little detail before we banked on the idea.

For the past two days, I’ve been trying to learn how to play that thing without having to go through the basics. I did that on the keyboard and that shit bored me. So I’ve been teaching myself via Youtube. I targeted Hey There Delilah and Human, which sound pretty great on a folk guitar. I think I might be getting it. I don’t know. It’s hard to tell. Guitars are hard, and they make keyboard seem a lot easier. I’ll try practicing for now. But if all else fails, I’m going to have to ask for Joel’s assistance because we’re tight and he’s good with the thing. Or I could pay some school to teach me – that is, if I have the funds.

Oh, and by the way, I also passed by Corey as I was about to purchase the guitar. He was strolling around the mall with his friends, and I didn’t recognize him at first because he had his hair short. But he looked at me with this totally surprised face, and I thought I knew him from somewhere. And I did. He waved at me, attempted a high-five, but the furlong of distance between the two of us was unattainable. I then remembered that stance, that firmness of jaw, those bushy eyebrows. He’s really handsome – matinee idol material. Before we parted, he gave me a salute, an inside story of all proportions as we had talked last summer about our love for marines. I entered the store, without bothering to look back, baffled in confusion, left wondering if he’ll ever pay me back his debt. It seems like the stupidest thing in the world now: giving away the gears that I did not buy without asking for a down payment. Come to think of it, I’ll be graduating next year, and if that money isn’t coming home to me some time soon, then I’m going to have to knock the doors down and come to it myself.

Hate.

xKATx

I’m not going to tell you life’s easy. I’m not going to tell you it’s simple. But I will tell you it’s worth living. Every minute of it.”

- Mr. Hunter (Anthem of a Reluctant Prophet by Joanne Proulx)

A fresh fugitive of one lackluster birthday party one Saturday afternoon, I found myself skimming through the stacks of novels at Booksale. I had wandered away from the side where the Stephen Kings used to sit (most of them have long gone by then), and I had decided to scan the ‘cheaper’ areas – yes, Booksale does have that, where the self-help manuscripts and autobiographies, along with other stray good novels, usually sit. And because I was sensing that the dull karaoke session of the birthday party was nearly over and that it would be time for KFC (and that I better be there when that happens), I finally took the book that Bet was handing me so we don’t linger around too long enough to make the clerk suspicious. It was Anthem of a Reluctant Prophet by Joanne Proulx. And, believe it or not, I got it for only P10.

But here’s where Booksale completely goes overboard because a novel such as this one should never be put up as cheap as that – not that I’m complaining. But it is just one of the best novels that I’ve read in recent times.

Here it is: Luke Hunter is real. Psychic or not, he’s just real, so there. I would unmask him to be anyone, and he’s still real. During the week that ensued, he’d been the best companion, him being so resentful and bitter and contemplative. The first chapter just threw me off guard with the swearing and the metaphors and the wily humor, above all. And for a whole week after reading the first lines, I just could not put the book down. Heck, I didn’t even want it to be over. Just imagine that sad pimply face all contorted when I reach the thirtieth chapter. I was in love with Luke’s character. It was his don’t-give-a-fuck attitude and verbosity or lack thereof that got to me. He was a curious thing, always deep in thought, fearful but honest, envious, dissipated, fucked-up even. When he made that “Stokum Sucks” shirt with Stan, I was just as inspirited to thicken my face and print “I am elite” all over our club tee. It is because of him that my inquisitiveness of the years ’02 and ‘03 resurfaced, as it had subtly submerged when I had stumbled upon CM Punk’s defunct Livejournal blog. Admittedly, it was also him who has buoyantly, unintentionally egged me on listening to music (I have my eyes on Johnny Cash – he’s ’02 album was indeed mournful – and Red Hot Chili Peppers, as of late). Of course, he also handed me the keen interest on suburban life, teen angst, young love… and drugs are never out of the picture.

And of course, there was death and the constant knowledge that everybody, everybody, is going to die. It is no secret that I am afraid of this piece of information, this short memo that appears from the moment we were conceived. But reading this book made me feel completely tacit. As though there is someone to share the mutual feeling with. The feeling of constraint and being trapped in a world that you’re not going to walk on forever. He brought fear, the question of a Supreme Being’s existence and losing faith, the options of what to believe and who to believe. He had the questions that people always have. Why him? Why not him? Why this life? He didn’t have a lot of answers as none of us do, but I think that’s what’s really comforting, what’s really believable. With all the shebang that has been happening these past couple of days, I needed a breather, something relatable, not an advice. And that’s where Luke stood. He was the barrier that sustained all the good things from all the bad ones. He filtered the bad ones and managed to cross them off the list of worries. And that is, by far, cheaper than therapy.

There was Fang, who, at first came off as bit annoying, but became incredibly heartbreaking in the end. I myself was shocked at his big McCreary Park revelation. Of course, we never did know if he ever went back to Jefferson or if he ever did kill himself. But when Luke decided to stick to Fang by all means, even after knowing of the latter’s dirty little secrets, made the story even more compelling for my part. It was climbing Jefferson’s roofs and Fang having an emotional breakdown that broke my heart. I was over all shocked for Todd Delaney because he was right the minute he told Luke that the latter “does not know a fucking thing”. I initially thought that it was only his absent mother that strikes up his nerves, but I did not know as well. So, the thing about climbing Gandy’s Rock was the best. It was just so real and honest and breathtaking, I had to reread it several times.

And then there’s Stan. Or as Luke would describe him:

Fucking Stan. He could do shit like that. Look people in the eye and say good, true things. Fool you into believing that everything you ever wanted was so close all you had to do was reach out and grab it. Fucking Stan. Busting with laughter. Thrilling to life. Making it look so goddamn effortless.

Stan – the dead friend. The holiest friend. The only good and pure thing in the world. Everything began and ended with him. And whether we believe in fate or not, it was all about Stan. Everything was interconnected because of him. And if Luke and Faith’s theory about believing in the godliness of human nature was not true, what else could be?

The writing was bold and remarkable. The novel itself struck a chord in my innermost being. I don’t think I would be able to consider thoughts and feelings had I not read this. It made me focus on my deepest and strangest emotions and whatever it is that gets me down just as Luke had questioned his life. The book had a lot of points that I just completely agreed with. One of this is the disputable opinion of having a fair God, not the one that the church would force you to know about, not the one-sided Being that fundamentalists will tell you about. The fact that Joanne Proulx made Luke Hunter a first-person omniscient was perfect. I would not have had it any other way. Reading it aloud is way better than just keeping the story to yourself, just so you know. I’ve often wondered why I can’t seem to find any other book that Ms. Proulx has written after Prophet. Could it be possible that this is her only novel? Is this going to turn into a movie soon? I am deeply interested in reading her work and knowing more about it. In just a week, she has turned me into a fan.

We could go on and on talking about this incredible book, but that would take me days. It’s just so beautiful I don’t have the right words to describe it. But this is just me. We all have interpretations. This one knocked me off my feet.

Another MUST-READ. Wouldn’t it be if I post it here?

Well it’s a 6/5.

I’m dropping you off this Bouncing Souls song, Like The Sun. I found it rather suiting for the novel. If Luke Hunters had a soundtrack from every time someone passes through his life, here’s what I have heard throughout my perusal.

Drifting alone on a wide open sea, letting life pass me by
Avoiding everything I’m afraid to be, but your heart shines a light
Lost in my own misery, till you came and helped me see
That I don’t have to be alone
Thank you for giving this lost heart a home

So shine on
Shine on
Shine on
Shine on
Shine on
Shine on
Shine on

Pinata game results - at a party where I got invited to.

During a fashion show at Top Model's Inc.

… I never lost it, whatever ‘it’ may seem to be.

And you know who else, never lost it?

Yessiree, you got it: The Rock.

But never losing ‘it’ doesn’t entirely mean that I’m officially back at Fantage (find dcopperfield – I had aversions for Charles Dickens that time, don’t ask). Occasionally, maybe. Wondering if the Rock thinks the same thing.