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Wordgasm is a portmanteau of words and orgasm, "word whoring" to put, an intellectual ejaculation of words and lexicons and sesquipedalians and googlewhacks and such, where cliches are strictly prohibited and stereotypes are burnt at stake. Nihil sub sole novum, the Ecclesiastes say; there is nothing new under the sun. It is only but the words that grant the world a whole new spectrum of perception. And the point is? I have no idea.
Call me Tobey. I'm twentyish, with a gender that involves a vagina. I live in Quezon City. And I go to the University of the Philippines, taking an academic course that requires a large vocabulary and stupendous amounts of imagination. How do you get that? You quaff a gallon of black coffee and gawk at your empty bank account. That would be enough inspiration. More »
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17.07.07 - 22:54
I have tried to scurry away from him, because I am afraid. I am afraid I might not be able run away later if not now (goddamn, don't talk about him anymore.X0), for, I don't want to get attached, dependent, stubbornly emotional, submissive, sweet, caring, and all those deplorable qualities that belong to a daft girlfriend whom I'd rather thwack on the head. That just isn't me. I have always wanted to slither away, silently, out of his life, and go back to my apple tree to philosophize about profound things and lure unsuspecting naif idiots to temptation all of which I cannot think of conspiring when I am "in love". I just go witless, inane, vapid, as if my cranium has been cracked open and my brain transferred submerged into a liquid-filled glass jar. Now that I've moved away from home, ergo, away from him, he has heedlessly moved too in the same city as mine, in the quirk of fate, destiny, synchronicity, the transposition of the constellations (though I am skeptic, astrologically speaking), or perhaps by mere coincidence. He's switching careers from entrepreneurship to a mundane desk job that requires minimal intellectual exertion. (Well, I too shall be on the onus of a mundane desk job before I hit back to school.) He's going sell his bar and car, and give up his virgin pitbull and apartment. Ionno what's up with that, though. And so, my ultimate battlecry for freedom is extinguished into a hissing trail of besodden fire. I've known him for seven months, and he's not like any guy I can dispose easily. (Really??XP) Bleah. I swear to the fabricated gods of heaven that I shall never speak of him again!XP I wanna go away goddamnit! Word did you say?« Hello? How Can I Help You? :: Cigarettes, Farts, and Prayers » | |