Wrong lane

It's friday night. I'm on a warpath, but no one is standing in my way to die...

This week started with subtle messages that somehow I drifted in the wrong lane: Nothing will go right, just everything against my way.

The messages were too subtle, unfortunately, that I didn't notice.

Or, rather, I ignored.

I laughed when my bike went badly uncalibrated because some lunatic played with its gear shifts. I played Legend of Mana when I was too worried about a text message that doesn't arrive when it should have. I smiled weakly when I revised a horribly boring design a hundred times to satisfy the fickle-minded, only to see that the final product looks horribly exactly as the first design.

I sang Nexxus, Savage Garden, and Martin Nievera when the rain poured so hard that the whole village went into blackout. And when the electricity came back but our house is still in the dark, my housemate and I sang Eagles, Rivermaya, Eraserheads, Def Leppard, After Image, and every familiar artist we can find in his old song magazines.

It was too late when I recognized the messages...

I've been angry all along, and I realized that no matter how fast I ride my bike through the rains, or no matter how raw and blistered my fingers get playing the PSOne and the guitar, or no matter how hoarse I get singing that blasted song in the Koreanovela, the answers are not coming my way.

I'm in the wrong lane, and just when I'm ready to explode, kill, and be killed...

There's no one around.

Thank goodness.

*logs on to Ragnarok*

Hmmm mm mm mm....

...

*smile*