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I'm not a graceful person. I'm not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2AM, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Let's be friends (again)

GOOD GRIEF!
Jose Rizal,

I didn't know you were such a voracious reader.  I hope i was your influence on that.  At least I have a positive contribution on your well being.

Just add me in Facebook.*  You'll find me there, we have 30 mutual friends.  I'm very sure you are aware of that.

Not that I don't want you here, while my journal is public, this is a sacred place for me. (makes me uncomfortable :) ... if that matters to you, i hope it does :) )

And of all 51, why there?

At least you got 3 of your dreams, alright:  a wife, a son and a stateside life.

Happy for you.

Add me up, Ill accept.

You are a good man, Supremo.  God bless you.

Signed,


('was once your) Josephine Bracken





*but not tonight, i'll deactivate the next 2 days ... this has become a bad habit of mine, sensya na ...

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