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I'm always dropping emotional turds whenever I start writing from this pathetic page of mine, but screw it. Everybody knows I'm square, so let's leave it at all, shall we?

Since taking that damned article writing job I've learned to hate before but have now taken comfort in doing for the unholy purpose of additional income (or lack thereof, but more on that later), I have lost the urgency to write something substantial in my blog. No surprise there. My added skill of producing a 450-word article in 40 minutes on a constant basis (although not anymore, but read on) has greatly compromise by ability to really write. You know, something that has nothing to do with search engine optimization, keyword density, niche sites, and countless other internet marketing jargon that has zero value in actual life.

Aside from that, morale in my professional life is currently at its roller coaster stage. Although I experience this feeling of elation with regard to the nature of work in my full-time endeavor, this certain emotion only takes course once a week when we actually have something to do. The other four days are ruled by the falling sensation of idleness due to the instability of the project when in comes to handing out daily tasks. As a result, I am left clueless from the whole ordeal. Come to think of it, the hard times when I felt hammered and pummeled by 15 hours worth of corporate slavery is way better than what I'm going through right now. At least I felt something back then. Now, zilch.

Outside the workplace and into the throes of summer, the season has shaped up to be a bore, where the unpredictability of not only the weather, but everything in general has ruined plans of days in the sun and sand. There's really no use in comparing, but when I think about the glorious days of summers past, I think of Puerto Galera where I ran its shores and screamed "Pakyu Ateneo!" in all my drunken awesomeness, Zambales with our soccer matches with the Koreans, and Potipot for, well, scandalous videos we made in its unadulterated white sands. On the upside, May is still on its way, so there's hope for some bigger shitstorm in store. Yes, something more to write about!


God, there's really nothing fun to actually write about, save one -- the Webdate gang. Met a couple of the guys after work last week, and despite not having the whole group to sit down, drink alcohol, and let our collective stupidity take hold of our actions, there always has been a constant product of our fortunate meetings. There's no minute wasted, as the air becomes colored with white hot smoke and uncompromising slurs, and everybody sings "Nobela" by Join The Club in unison at some shoddy videoke bar. It's always a fucking pleasure.

The turds have stopped.

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