What a day

So here’s how tonight was suppose to go.

  1. leave fro Eastwood
  2. Go to DC
  3. Buy the shoes that I’ve been reserving for a week now
  4. Be extremely happy
  5. Take pictures (a lot of pictures)
  6. Go to Coffee Bean
  7. Complete the stamps by buying yummy delicious tea
  8. get the notebook
  9. repeat no.4
  10. stay until 11-ish
  11. head for home with happy feet
  12. edit pictures and videos until tired

What really happened

  1. leave fro Eastwood
  2. Go to DC
  3. Find out that mom hates the shoes
  4. did not buy
  5. went home

That’s fucking fucked up. She told me to go reserve the shoes that I want, so I can go buy them with her today. But no :| I mean I was really really excited for this, and she knew that as well. But fuck man :| what the fucking hell was that huh??? Now I’ve lost all interest in shoes. And no I’m not bluffing or kidding or being irrational about it because of anger or whatever. I’ve just lost interest in shoes because of this shit :| I loved shoes so much, now I don’t… thanks mother for ruining my perfectly planned night to make myself happy for a change. I’ve never planned anything out to make myself happy. And I don’t think I will again anytime soon. Cause learning from this experience, nothing good will come out of it.

As a result… I’ll be meditating again until Monday morning. I’m cutting all ties of communication. I’ve killed my phone already, and I won’t be online for social purposes, only for healing (like music and artwork)


PS: if you’re thinking “dude, they’re only shoes” better think deeper than that. And when I say think, I mean THINK

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s