the sea

artist/band: The Civil Wars
telly on: on everything Josh Hutcherson
soundtrack: Summer House - Gold Motel
flick: Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961)
book: Star Girl - Jerry Spinelli

"The fool looks at a finger that points to the sky."

- Amelie

You know I love you, don't be a fool.

hullo stranger

Kira de Ocampo. Singer-Songwriter. Creative Writing student in UP Diliman. I am basically a grandma inside a 21-year-old body.

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7.06.2007 @ 8:03:00 PM
such bad fall = such bad day.
the dolrama: my clumsiness extraordinaire
the dance: you honestly won't believe this. haha! fergie - glamorous. lol..
the lexis: "G.. L.. A .. M.. O .. R.. O.. U.. S.. T.. U.. V.. W.. X.. Y.. Z."

Who in the whole wide, freakish world can ever forget Ms. United States of America's trip fall? NOBODY. Why? Just think: you're there representing your country at the Miss Universe big Night, and just as you think everything's sailing smooth, you trip over in your shimmering evening gown, infront of all the audience. All the tv viewers. All the people.

What could be worse than people "boo"-ing you, when you've already bruises already? When you fel so dang hopeless. NOTHING.

But as good news though, in this world, people forget, and Miss USA's bad trip fall will soon be forgotten, as new news bury it down to headline archives.

I just hope the same thing would happen in my OWN little world.

Because, just like Miss USA, i have experienced my own trip fall.

Yes. A few days ago. On my way home. Riding a "cursed" fx taxi.

I knew all along that something real bad will happen to me that day, as I rode the machine. The "conductor" or as we normally call it "kondoktor", told me to ride infront, next to the driver, since i'm such a petite "naman". And as usual, I refused to. And I told him that I'm riding at the back, just 'cause there's no space in the middle anymore.

Wrong move. I know I shouldn't have, considering that the back space brings so much uncomfort that you'd rather be hit on the head than sit at its cruel, small chairs entitled for you to sit on.

I told myself, whatever. So, I just did.

And after a few torturing minutes of waiting to arrive home, I tried to get as "comfortable" as possible. Plugged in mp3, since fx drivers choose these really "corny" radio stations. I finally got to Antipolo. And then, it happened.

As the fx drove to park, I prepared myself, with handful of books, to step down the taxi. Unfortunately, my heels got stuck with the platform, and I couldn't get it off. I soon heard people laughing, as I got concious with my skirt and what it could be showing if I don't fix it properly.. (err.. you know what I mean.), and then I felt a thug.

And the next thing I knew, I'm one-sided lying on the ground, my skirt revealing more than what I thought it was, when I just put extra effort for it not to!

I was sooooo shocked, that I paused for a minute to collect the pieces of myself, and wondered, "How in the whole wide, freakish world did I get here??"

Thank God, somebody rushed over to come help me, and asked me if I was alright. I wanted to tell him, "NO." But I'd look pretty stupid if I did, so I just thanked him, and ran to find a tricycle, almost tripping as blood ooze from my knees. one word: EEWNESS.

It was such a terrible issue, that I think it's more like a historical event for all the people of Antipolo to remember and to pass on to generations that one day, a clumsy Paulinian girl just tripped over in a very bad way.. right on this spot... blahblahblah.

It was bad. WWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYY bad than any of you can ever think of, because until now, my bruises and cuts are still wrapped in bandages, crying for mercy.

But it was good thing though that I hid my face (imagine the horror of trying to cover your face with short hair), and I didn't look at anyone straight after that appalling, unsightful memory happened.

So I said to myself, just look at Former Miss Las Philepinas Miriam Quimbao (uhm.. sp?) and Miss YU-ES-AY , and their televised incident. It was so EXTREMELY oh soooo bad, but they managed to pull it of with what they call... POISE.

Oh, well, news may burn as fast as fire. Besides, atleast it wasn't televised. Unlike these not-so-perfect-after-all beauty queens.

And as my cuts and scrapes, and (ow..) bruises slowly disappear, I just hope that flat fall reminiscence would disappear too. Because I know it would. Nobody has taken any proof about it. No pictures. No videos. No nothing. It's all gonna be just fine..

PS: I'm just writing this to make me feel better. Lol.. Seriously.

safe (AND THIS TIME I MEAN IT) sailing,
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