sitting amuck

blessed are the poor, theirs is the kingdom of God.

blessed is he with multiple personalities, there just is no dull moment.

a lot have been asking me why i am so into fight club.

simple. Fight Club is the recurring movie theme of my life.

like edward norton in the film:

i work on combined liabilities. when you talk of development and government, the result is combined liabilities.

sometimes, i become my work. case in point: when i was still in the legislature, i have an interesting way of remembering events. if you ask me when i met my boyfriend, i would say, "the SPAV law was on 3rd reading then." 

i have had a repetitive battle with sleeping disorders.

i have been addicted to support groups, because support groups are safe places where you are free to cry your heart out like you’re going to die tomorrow. i didn’t get the chance to cry much when i was growing up because crying wasn’t allowed at our house. my dad hated it when we cried. so all the bottled up tears, i let out at the support groups 23 years later. surprisingly, the people at my support groups don’t get disturbed when they see me wail–considering that i look horrendous when i cry. or maybe they get disturbed, they just won’t tell.

i meet marla’s from time to time. or something that resembled marla. male marla, so that becomes marlo. not as interesting as marla though. just some guys who would blurt out, " i can’t win with you can i?" "what happened to you?" "you love me, then you hate me" "you have serious emotional problems for which you should seek professional help"–yeah, the lines of marla to jack.

i have this thing for airports and flying, for CK, DKNY, A/X, starbucks and Audi.

i have that scar on the top of my right hand, and yeah, it was freaking painful.

i have serious father issues.

i love eating cereals for breakfast and please, if you plan to join me on the table, keep your mouth shut.

i write some trash poetry from time to time, post it online for people to see and for them to have a reason to stay away from me, and i read in the dark.

i am aware, albeit a little too late, of my alternate pesonas. some are a lot stronger than i am that they can actually exist as a single detached persona. i haven’t met my tyler durden though. never had that hotel moment, never been beaten up by myself. i strongly suspect though that my tyler is tim yap.   

i’m into face to face fights. i find nuclear wars, wherein you annihilate an entire enemy nation with the touch of a button, so chicken. it takes the passion, the energy out of a seemingly interesting showcase of human bravado.

i fight with people, with the tornadoes in my head, with circumstances, with God (yeah, even with the all-powerful One. thankfully, He hasn’t crushed me), with the devil (the loser). i bear the stitches and the scars that result from my several fight sessions with them, some you see, some you don’t, but they’re here.

at times, i get beaten to pulp. i get knocked down. but never knocked out. otherwise, i wouldn’t be writing this to offer you a fight club franchise.

for fight club francihises, send me a message.