Wake up now, this is the time you’ve waited for
Today is what I habitually call a gloomy day, where the clouds somehow disallowing the sun to warm up the shivering souls. Even though I do my daily routines like I normally did; eat breakfast, take a shower, go to school, study and go to the gym in the evening, I sense something different. Something uncanny. I feel like this morning I have woken up becoming someone else. The consciousness itself is euphoric and enchanting. I am not certain if this is ignited by a book I currently read or the old songs from my childhood which I listen to every night as my lullabies. But I am tremendously convinced with this sensation. I feel like I can withhold any life crisis ahead, and withstand any obstacles inside the thorny woods. One simple sentence to elucidate: I have become comfortably numb.
Letter No. 2: Dying. Between half-dead or half-alive.
Everything that I want
I want from you
But I just can’t have you
Everything that I need
I need from you
But I just can’t have you
“Guess what? I just had my first kiss with my boyfriend.”
Shrieking, squealing and rejoicing hysterically. Choose whichever you will. The rest of the girls were jumping in tumultuous motion. Interrogating her elaborately. Since she just started dating for one month. Except one, however.
“Our last weekend date was so romantic! He made me sweet blueberry pancakes for our breakfast.”
For once again, and then another one. Their rookery muted my lips. Not because of what you call jealousy. Not even a tiny shred. Utterly out of words since I do not have any story to catch up with them. Left me grinning awkwardly.
“Oh my, oh my. You guys are so yesterday. Been doing that for years already.”
Hey, wanna have sex with me? You see, all of my friends have done it. I’m like still the vi–
My wrath overheard by the blatant whack. Proved by the harsh slap. Did it hammer and tongs by a hand-wrestling champion, no wonder. His sexual harassment has gone too far. Made the rest of pupils dumbfounded, eventually. There he goes again. Replied it with a mere ridiculous grin, casually. Picking up his iPad Mini and Attack on Titan manga book, ditching the classroom. Nobody heeded his abhorrent attitude. A facepalm is not considered as a geez anymore.
He walked throughout the parking lot with his lousy purple umbrella. His mom and dad were waiting inside the black SUV. He sat on the backside. Back indulging himself with the toys on his palms. Heading to the nearby shopping mall. To the arcade center. A literal place to dispose of your wealth in minutes.
Someone kill the DJ, shoot the fucking DJ
Voices in my head are sayin’
“Shoot that fucker down”
Six frequently asked questions from family, friends, and acquaintances regarding my blog and my affinity toward creative writing.
Why do you name your blog Foxtrot Gazette?
This is kind of odd. I am somewhat obsessed with NATO phonetic alphabet, where F stands for Foxtrot, that is where I got the word. I looked up in the dictionary, it is a type of music commonly played in ballrooms or dancing rooms. Makes the room called Foxtrot Ballroom, for instance. Then, since one of my favorite band is Genesis, they have this not-so-famous album called Foxtrot. I admit the songs are weird. Both tone and lyrics. Unlike the other Genesis songs that I always love. Thus, I decide to use this word Foxtrot due to its uniqueness. Gazette is a newspaper or journal, derived from a French word but originated from an Italian word Gazzetta. Via the newspaper, people are able to obtain information, got to know things. By reading my blog, people will know by, say, sixty percent of the things I never exposed in public. Things that I do not think it is necessary enough to say out loud. Meaning that by reading my blog, people will know more about me. Not literally, you see. There you can wrap it up, Foxtrot Gazette.