Friday, June 29, 2007

Selling My Soul at Extremely Low Prices

Secondhand books, anyone?

Yes, I have finally gotten around to doing it. Am cleaning my bookshelves by selling most of the books I know I will never touch again. Be it because I have read to the nth infinity or I just really cannot imagine myself having the time to go through it again.

I need space. New books are coming in, which equates to new ideas, new experiences and even new knowledge. I cannot stay stuck in the past. Ergo, I am letting go. Sure, it feels like a part of my soul is being sold at extremely low prices too, but heck, I need the space to breathe don't I?

So if you are interested, you can email me to request for the list: The books are mostly speculative fiction and contemporary fiction.


What an idiotic show. Wendy is still in. I know, I know! For someone who swore I will not watch it for its sheer stupidity, I just cannot help but CARE that the biyatch is still in.

Ella's reaction when she found out Wendy was not eliminated:

"For that, I will never trust SGV ever again!" says she.
Amen to that.


I can talk about marbles and it will still be more cerebral than talking about THAT show. I think talking about soap bubbles will be more satisfying even.

But what I really wanted to discuss is leaning more towards philosophic meanderings. I was just wondering how low people can go.

What would it take for you to sell your soul?

I can honestly tell you I have been there. Pondered how I can. For a bit more moolah back when my Mum was in the hospital.

Would it make much difference if you were selling it for unselfish purposes? Do you think God will forgive you easier if its because of a noble cause? Or is selling your soul a black and white transgression that will exact a toll regardless of your intention?

I was just wondering. I am kind of scared of ever finding myself in a similar crossroad again. I pray to God that I never will. But then again, it's not for me to predict my future.

it just got me off thinking......


I urge ALL GIRLS who read this blog to look at this site:


It will:



Do it now, now, now!

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

The Chattering Chit

Chitchat Number 1:

Truth is, I have been crushing on a certain guy for some time now. I never discuss this online because there's an off-chance he reads this blog. Once in a while, at the least, I know he has visited some of this site's links.

But everytime I see his text message on my phone, I get fluttery cretins disturbing my stomach and I have the irresistable urge to daydream. I tried imagining myself dropping everything just to be closer to him... it's a nice premise. Starting all over again somewhere new and strange and far from this maddening crowd. But I realized 2 things:

1. He'll never like me that way.
2. We're out of each other's league.

I don't know if the 2 are actually one and the same. I feel it isn't. The first is about tastes. The second is about capacity.

I will probably rot in the province. And how will I achieve my dream of making it big in the UN or ever become an advisor for the Prince of Wales Foundation if all I network with are trees?

But wouldn't it be nice? (The Beach Boys keep singing in my head: Beat, tap, tap, tap ... wouldn't it be nice if we lived together in the kind of world where we belong...)

Chitchat Number 2:

Pinoy Big Brother is such a joke. I don't get why my cousin is so into it. He was fuming mad tonight when Wendy wasn't the one kicked out. He kept muttering that it's the stupidest show on earth. Betcha he'd be watching it again tomorrow though. BUT --- i have to agree with him. It's a stupid show, and people have better things to occupy their time with than to watch other people living their life inside a make-believe house. Sometimes they get so caught up that they don't even notice that they're forgetting to live their own lives watching all those reality shows.

And anyway, Wendy is .... not likeable. Her pretty face is marred by her constant pouting, bawling, brawling, and mewling. Bruce has got to be more visually impaired than Helen Keller. Wendy should've been gone long time ago.

Which reminds me of the comic book Casper who's got a witch friend named Wendy. Ha! PBB's Wendy is also a witch, but spelled with a capital B.

Chitchat Number 3:

Whoever invented the fully automatic washing machine deserves to be praised for the rest of eternity. Life is so much easier when all you have to do is dump your clothes and go.

People should invent a fully automatic ironing mechanism as well.

Which reminds me --- when I was a kid, I wanted a robot maid just like Richie Rich does. Her name was Irona, wasn't it? :P

Want Irona.

Chitchat Number 4:

I am re-reading Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy. A LOT of people keep saying they loved it. When I read it, I got bored to smittereens. So, I'm thinking maybe I wasn't in the right frame of mind when I read it. It was after all, 4 years ago. I'm going to try again. Let's see if anything's different now.

Monday, June 25, 2007

I am changing my life this week.

This is my checklist:

I am submitting a letter signifying my interest for a new position within PBSP.

I am going to submit the SSS documents for my parent’s death benefit and to finally get it over with. The extra cash will come in handy.

I am going back to the gym.

I am going to drink my medicines religiously now --- really.

If I get the extra cash -- I am going to cut my hair and die it blue black (hehe, no, not pink).

I am going to sell my old books (must.force.myself.sell.let.go.). Watch out for the list soon, you might want to buy some of it.

I will now subscribe to the cleaning magical powers of Muriatic Acid. Our toilet bowl is miraculously transformed into pristine white after having been murky and yellow for weeks on end. I wish I paid more attention to it before. I wish it didn’t take everybody leaving us or dying before I learned to care. I mean, simple Muriatic Acid. My gosh.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Palawan Montage Take 2

May pahabol pa pala... Really had the best of time! :P

PALAWAN: so galing! it really looks like that on any map!
No more pre-flight jitters: a connoisseur at take 3
(as in 3rd time to ride a plane)
Shiny(-faced) happy people (once in a while, it's okay, I guess)
A pretty detail from Ka Lui's restaurant (the best food in puerto)

The girls from Casa Linda: Yvonne (from Cebu), Jeni (from Korea), Yel, Me and Dre
Haha! I don't pose like this when I'm sane. Obviously, I was insane the whole trip!

INsane, insane, insane.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Palawan Montage

I admit it, I am L - A - Z - Y.
I just posted the pics my friends took which I liked (i don't have my own digicam, boohoo!). Some have caps, some I'd rather just post. :)

Team Casa Linda: dre, yel and I plus yvonne and johnson

the pretty sandbar we spent our time in while waiting for our turn in the underground river boats

Vietville Restaurant: nothing to see, lots to eat though

Coming out from the cave

Beautiful scenery, beautiful people, basta beautiful...


Entrance to the Underground River

Puerto Princesa market

aka the Crocodile Farm

The skeleton and hide of the largest crocodile captured in the phils.
important lesson: difference between crocodile and an alligator

Now, I bite you... Wahr!!

At the Badjao Seafront restaurant

Inside the Butterfly Farm. And no, we're not required to wear salbabida. Bilbil ko lang yan. :)

Our flutterby friend from inside the farm

As per usual, my life vest won't fit. They make vests for dwarves. I should form a giant and ogre union for equal life vests opportunities.

Na-flat kami. Nakaupo kasi ako sa ibabaw ng gulong na iyan. Peste.

Inside Casa Linda. The Inn reminds me so much of Rock Inn in Sagada, except that, it's hot in Palawan.

I might have some more pics, if ever the goddess Andrea deems it worth her while to upload the pics from her camera. I very much doubt it.

Confederacy of Dunces

I have recently come to the realization that the average young adult’s life reserves a huge chunk of time solely for dwelling on LOVE and the finding thereof.

Take the people I know, for example.

They live functioning, normal work lives. I even sometimes hear them talk about their families. But the frequency of our discussions on their turbulent or non-existent love lives has increased exponentially. Now, it might be one heck of an overgeneralization, but whether I just know a lot of love fools or I inspire the most hard_ss people to just spill the beans on their hidden moon-and-stars fantasies, there’s still a lot of stories I know.

Holy Molly

I have a friend who is in love with a priest. She’s been smitten for a couple of years now. It doesn’t help that the person is a confused, morose, unsure young priest. He’s the farthest from holy as I could ever conjure in my head. But in fairness to him, he still hasn’t crossed the line that separates him from breaking his oath. He struggles so hard to make himself fit into a diocesan’s role. And my friend struggles so hard to accept that it is a love that can never be.

Recently, she met somebody who speaks, eats, thinks, and probably farts the same way as the priest. Except this guy is NOT a priest. And I can sense that this guy, if she really likes ex-seminarians, is more suited for her.

Last night, we had a phone conversation long into the night where she relayed to me her amazement to find out that the two people she liked were actually very good friends. Now she’s just stunned and quite clueless if God’s playing her a joke.

We both agree that God is a genius when it comes to orchestrating our lives. But she can’t quite accept the logic I offered her: that God has given you this other guy to show you that He plans to give you someone unencumbered by the cloth. Let what belongs to God remain with God. J

She can’t let go of the priest yet. I hope in time she will.

Jilted Janey

A friend of mine had one heck of a June 18th. It was supposed to be her wedding day, you see. But her fiancĂ© left her months earlier, claiming he feels suffocated. She emailed us that she thought it was going to be one hellish encounter. It didn’t help that she saw him with the new girlfriend too.

Here’s a girl: smart, sexy, independent, funny but with an obvious handicap in choosing her guys. We don’t get it, and I think, she doesn’t get it either. She’s quite ready to admit she did not have a very reliable father growing up. But knowing this and still falling for all the wrong guys?

It’s a good thing she’s made of strong stuff. I wouldn’t want to go through what she went through.

Aging Agnes

Almost 30 and still never been kissed. To say she’s worried is an understatement. But… her pride keeps her away from resorting to anything desperate, say for example, actually smiling at a man to get his attention. Her standards are unreal. And her expectation on how she should be approached nearing obsolete.

But I am going to be very, very nice to Agnes because I might just become her in five more years.

Picky Peter

What if you aren’t exactly a handsome guy? Buti na lang. you’re nice, smart and you have a great sense of humour, and some girls are actually making the mistake of falling for you. BUT they’re not chinita. So you just ignore them. A lot.

I’ll never get it, not being one of the chinky-eyed populace. But I guess you shouldn’t be insecure because it sounds too much like you dug a hole for your left foot to fall into.

Clueless Carla

She can’t quite make up her mind who she wants to be with: the guy who's around or the boy from the mountains.

Every fortnight, she’d switch her affections. Not deliberately, I’m sure. But she herself can’t seem to accept that either way, nothing’s going for her. She’d rather believe in omens and symbols that she was meant for A or B. AND AT THE SAME TIME, hopeful that C will come along.

This Carla, poor girl, doesn’t know what she wants. Doesn’t know what she needs. Has no clue at all.

Guess which one I am?

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Gift of Goodbye

It is a strange country ---- this region between my ears. More so at night, when I am asleep and my control is subdued. For others, night time is down time. To me, it’s just another kind of living. My dreams vary – memory replayed, anxieties or expectations displayed, nonsensical or vivid – they come to me.

But once in a while, I dream true. By this I mean that I know the dreams are not merely memories being reviewed by my brain. Not fears or hopes. They are just real. I have received instructions in my dreams. I have seen a sliver of the future. I have traveled to odd countries. I have spoken with those who have passed away.

And last night, I have received an extremely rare gift. I was blessed with the gift of goodbye.

Most of it was about preparing for a journey. The last scene was the most important. It was my father’s wake and --- he was sitting on the floor beside me. He was watching everybody paying their respects. Every time somebody would say a prayer for him, he got a little more translucent. As if, for every prayer uttered, he gets closer to the kind of essence heaven is.

I can see him, and I was rubbing his hand, his legs, touching his hair. Every one was looking at me like I was crazy. They couldn’t see him and they thought I was just insane with grief.

It was a good thing that Gabe approached me and Daddy. He said, “That’s a strange dog… “ Then Daddy patted Gabe’s shoulder and the little boy exclaimed, “Oh, Tito Oca!”

That’s when people started believing.

Gabe called Daddy again and said he’ll sing “I’m a Little Teapot” for him. The first time he sang, Daddy showed no emotion. The second time, I sang with Gabe and showed him all the actions. This time Daddy smiled. He looked at me with what I can only describe as pride and he told me I am beautiful. I began to cry and I reached out to hold his face with both my hands. He became sad again. I understood why. He misses us so much. He is sad he left us. And I suppose, the same emotions were plastered all over my face. It was the saddest five seconds of my life.

Then I blurted out everything. I told him I only want more time to spend with him, so many things we were still supposed to do, so many sins I must atone for, and that above all things, I just want time to say goodbye.

Something started happening too. I can feel the ground reverberating. I dawned on me that I don’t have much time. Tears streaked down my face, and I said, “Bye bye, Daddy.”

He opened his mouth in a silent wail and I saw embers spark down his throat. I got scared that it meant he was still suffering somewhere dark. I held his head to my chest and started to pray.

I think it was praying. But it was more like chanting. I just kept saying Heaven. I was telling him he belongs to heaven. At the same time, I think I was claiming his place for him up there as well. In front of me, I saw fire burgeoning upward. But every time I utter “heaven,” a shower of feathers and clouds bursts out. I offered my salvation for him. I think I made a pact with heaven that whatever debt Daddy incurred, they can debit it on my account. Silly, yes. But I still have time to do good and to deserve heaven all over again. Daddy’s hourglass is spent however. I don’t know if that worked, or my praying worked. I was just saying heaven with all that I have. All the best part of my strength to believe was in that claiming.

I knew there was a battle for my father’s soul, and since I was given a chance to participate, I will fight with ALL I HAVE.

Finally, a bunch of men looking like Chinese lords from the 18th century appeared amidst a flurry of clouds. They were battling another set of men (looking the same, but they have black horses with them) and they wrestled my Dad away. Then they took him (or his soul) and carried him up to the moon.

When I looked down, I was embracing my mother instead. My mother who I knew was already safely in heaven.

What a trip.

I woke up still muttering, “Heaven, heaven, heaven….”

All this without drugs! I am a scary, scary person, eh?

A scary loony, but a relieved one at that. I felt light. The burden of goodbye was lifted from me by this one dream.

Every fiber of me knew it was a true dream. Daddy was asking for prayers. But he is en route to heaven. He called me beautiful, if only to assure me that yes, he will still “watch me grow in beauty” as that phrase from his favorite song to us says. (I Will Be Here by Gary V).

And I got to say goodbye. I said goodbye. Finally. After exactly six months, God gave me a way to move on. Upon waking up, it felt like a whole new life.

This is one of those days I am grateful for the extra-sensory gift that runs in my family. I was just entertaining the thought of seeking out a psychic just so I’ll know what’s the deal. God beat me to it. He gave me myself.
I actually functioned well at work today. Maybe, it truly is the start of my new lease on life.

My own life. Without regrets or baggage from the past. Nothing but the overwhelming amount of love I received from both my parents.

Call me crazy. It’s okay. I think I know how to laugh again anyway. It’s a trip. :)

Monday, June 18, 2007

Adieu, Summer

So long, sweet summer...
Laiya Coco Grove in San Juan, Batangas last May 19-20

The girls and I: last hurrah for summer

How come they get to have their "bringing the fatty back" pics and I get the autistic posing? Note to self: MUST INVEST ON A PERSONAL PHOTOGRAPHER

me and a book, what's new?

Ako daw yan, beside the sea at dawn


Hay, before I knew I was diabetic.... I love the capiz windows at yel's house...
GIRLS, SAGADA NEXT OKAY? I'll never tire of that place.


I wish I can start talking about sensible things again. I keep waiting for the day I'll be able to indulge in my usual diatribes. But I wonder if I can ever go back to being that girl, who can rant ad nauseaum.

Remember in high school, we'd write to friends that we hope they never ever change? Of course, we just mean nice people should stay nice. But even that is impossible. Say for example, I think I'm still nice. But not the same doormat niceness I used to be. I have developed edges that weren't there before.

If I can go back to those days we were writing those silly notes on yearbooks and autographs, I'll change it to something like this:

I hope you will change into the person you admire the most.


I have a friend who is in a complicated relationship right now, and we spent three hours discussing the many things making their relationship miserable. Of course, I remained the passive listener since I do not have experiential sagacity to impart. It's complicity astounds me. Made me think that if I had a problem like that now, on top of everything else, I would probably, really go insane.

I wonder if that will ever happen to Seb and me in the end...

Well, first, we gotta find ways to even start, I guess. :P

But I feel for my friend. My take on it is that it's yet another fatality due to the Quarter Life Crisis. My God, it's happening to everyone. Why is it that my friends undergoing this "phase" are popping out like mushrooms now when I had to go through it alone a year ago?

But I guess, I'm lucky I got hit pretty early. There were still my parents to keep me afloat then. Life's good.


Sunday, June 17, 2007

Medication For Father's Day

by Sandra K. Hester

I wish I had the words to comfort you,In all your pain and grief.
But I know there is nothing I can say or do,to help you find relief.
Your numbness will soon subside,and the pain and tears will be real.
Just remember no matter what,It's ok to feel what you feel.
Each day may seem like a burden,sometimes it will be hard to face.
But they will never stop loving you,just because they're in a new and better place
They will live on in your hearts,you will all have memories to share.
And when your time on earth is through,with open arms, they will be waiting for you there.
I don't dance.
Except for those times I'm being graded for it in high school, and the times ---- my father danced with me.
Those were ordinary days, when he's feeling well and happy and light. He'd take my hand in jest and start whirling me round and round and round. He'll make funny harrumphing noises, and funny waltzing tunes, and he'd chuckle and giggle everytime I step on his toes.
I loved it when we do those silly dances.
Just one more time. Just one more dance. Just. One.
I will probably never dance like that again.
Luther Vandross
Back when I was a child, before life removed all the innocence
My father would lift me high and dance with my mother and me and then
Spin me around 'til I fell asleep
Then up the stairs he would carry me
And I knew for sure I was loved.
If I could get another chance, another walk, another dance with him
I'd play a song that would never, ever end
How I'd love, love, love
To dance with my father again
When I and my mother would disagree
To get my way, I would run from her to him
He'd make me laugh just to comfort me
Then finally make me do just what my mama said
Later that night when I was asleep
He left a dollar under my sheet
Never dreamed that he would be gone from me
If I could steal one final glance, one final step, one final dance with him
I'd play a song that would never, ever end
'Cause I'd love, love, love
To dance with my father again
Every night I fall asleep and this is all I ever dream

Friday, June 15, 2007

Mystery Boy sa FX sa Philcoa

Book in Hand: Maximum Ride: School's Out Forever by James Patterson
Song in Mind: Sundo by Imago

This is my morning routine p. I wake up at 5:30 a.m., take a bath, get dressed, mechanically spoon cereal into my mouth to avoid hypoglycemic-ing, then scamper off.

I ride a bus to Philcoa, get down, ride an FX to the Manila Post Office.

Sounds easy? Huh. You better not mean that.

This morning, I sat beside a large guy reading Harry Potter 6. And I mean, he was Herculean. I couldn’t bring myself to look up to his face but I can see he had long, powerful thighs. Broad shoulders. And HE WAS READING HARRY POTTER!

Mejo masikip (duh! Magkatabi kami dalawang dambuhala), kaya nahirapan ako iabot sa kanya yung bayad ko sa FX. Others would have been irritated already, but when I said, “Uh-oh, sorry.” He laughed lightly. He had a nice laugh.

I wanted to talk to him about Harry Potter. I can. I’ve read that book like 4 times. But I was feeling dizzy, I’m not sure my breath was okay, I was shy… all the excuses. Man, I was such a wuss! I didn’t even get halfway to mustering up the courage to talk to him when he had to go down.
I moved sideways and held the door. He reached out to hold the door open as well. Our hands touched and it stayed that way for like, 5 seconds. Then he was down and said a heartfelt, “Thank you.” He had a nice, deep voice.

I muttered, “Sure.” Wimp. Wimp. I’m such a Wimp!

Now, I will never see that guy again. And I haven’t even seen his face up close! I don’t know how he looks like, except his jaw was kind of squarish, and that his bulk was mostly mass and density. There was also an indication that he had light brown eyes, once when I swept past it while sneaking a peak into his book (he noticed me looking at the pages and he smiled a little)

I just hope that come Monday, he’d be riding the FX again. Sana, sana Lord, please? Mabait naman ako diba? Pleeeeeaaaase???????

Cruelty is....

Eating spongy angel cakes.

They were delicious! Lasang Red Ribbon mamon. I took four of them and devoured it happily. My Dad asked to be transferred near the TV; my Mum was seated somewhere near. Ella was somewhere in the background watching TV too. We were complete. We were happy.

Daddy looked up expectantly and told me not to go to the far (southern) end of Mount Makiling.

I answered, “Sure, Daddy.” I didn’t get why, but it’s not as if I’ll be trekking there anytime soon anyway. I ate another angel cake.

There was that feeling I miss in the pit of my stomach --- that utter dependability that you are happy to the core of your spirit because the simple things in life that you wanted were at hand.

Spongy angel cakes.


Daddy. Mummy. Family.

Then I woke up.


I dare you to tell me right now this isn’t a cruel, cruel world.

Sunday, June 10, 2007


I'm in Puerto Princesa right now, joyous over the fact that our Inn (Casa Linda) has internet connection! Not that I will be able to upload our pics since I'm only relying on Mariel and Dre's cameras and those are not even processed yet.

I just wanted to drop by to tell you that I'm having good fun.

Last night, we wanted to go heck-drunk-crazy. And if the place we went to only served alcohol other than beer (I was looking for a Margarita), I'm probably sloshed right now. For the first time. BUT --- maybe, it's not just me who controls my vices but there's Divine Intervention as well. Sayang lang. It was not like I was planning to become an alcoholic.

Here's a short list of our accomplishments yesterday:

We went to:
1. Have lunch at Ka Lui's (de-licious!)
2. Self-styled city tour via rented trike to:
a. Crocodile Farm
b. Iwahig Penal Colony for the souvenirs (contrary to popular notion, hindi mura ang souvenirs dito go to letter D)
c. Butterfly Farm
d. Baker's Hill (sarap goodies, funny ang mga statues, and MURA ANG SOUVENIRS!!!)
e. Mitra Residence
3. Dinner at Badjao Sea Front which was in the middle of the mangrove. :)

Not bad, not bad, for the first day. Today, we're waiting for the jeep to bring us to Sabang and the UNESCO site Underground River. Hopefully, we'll be able to sneak in a quick dip in the sea.

Ciao, Arigato, Bye! Later days!

Friday, June 08, 2007

Isla Verde

I get a little disoriented when people mention that Isla Verde is a barangay in Batangas City, because it really could be in another world entirely. Wow, just wow!

I have never seen such variety of fish before. We did a little snorkeling near the shoreline and we can see so many kinds already: butterfly cleny, parrot fish, sargeant fish... and many other multi-colored ones I cannot even name. Imagine what we would've seen if we actually went to the more famous sites!

It is amazing what the communities surrounding the island has done for their waters. Their Coastal Management Program is tops! Just goes to show we are still capable of uniting for good causes.

Here's some of the first pics... have to wait for the others pa, especially the pics taken of the fish squabbling over bread. :P

Leah Beach have huts lining the shoreline. Some families are content to splash around here, but I find it a little unclean and smelly. This is where the large bancas picked us up going to Isla Verde. (see in the background)

Blue on Blue... haaaay... ahloveeet!

Nalayag Rock, this is the center of the center for marine biodiversity of the world!
Pa-cute sa boat: Geo and I

Verde Island Resort from afar...

We were given welcome drinks and shelter from the harsh sun.

Our welcome banner! Our (PBSP) REEF Project is a challenging project, but mayhaps, a good one.
Ganyan kalinaw ang tubig. A miracle to a city girl who only knows Manila Bay as a standard. Wait for the fish pics, amazing!

This is what summer would always look like to me from now on.

Bonding sa wharf: me, Terts, Noel and Amy

Posing as Penshoppe Girls

Ahhh.. sunset.



Can't wait! :P Will be inaccesible yet again over the weekend. See ya all Monday!

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

The Groove of Things

I will be on official business going to Isla Verde in Batangas City starting today so I will be a bit inaccesible. I am desperately trying to fit back into the groove of things --- work, home life, imagination-wise. Maybe I'm not doing so bad, but it wouldn't explain why I feel like totally lost.

Anyhow, I was very excited about this trip because Isla Verde was recently named as the World's Hub for Marine Biodiversity. With my current mood though, a volcano can erupt right in front of me and I still wouldn't give a darn.

I am also a little uncomfortable with the hypoglycemic medicines I'm taking. It makes me sick in the mornings when I haven't had breakfast. Erg. Like today. Must eat. Must. I was so woozy that a jeepney almost ran me over this morning. I was trying to cross the street when a jeepney overtook another jeepney while I was crossing. Then, when I got to the curb, I got a bit dizzy and took an involuntary step backwards --- just as a motorbike swooshed dangerously close by. Last time I checked, today isn't Friday the 13th. It's just me and my persistent belief that I can still go without breakfast.

Anyhow, must go now. Pray I don't get struck by lightning on my way out.


Sunday, June 03, 2007

Searching for a Song

I have become very dependent on my mp3 player recently. I just need the music to blast me back into functioning. This is a slow day for laundry and random internet surfing. Not much to write about, or maybe, don't care much to write about anything.

Except to find a song I can lose myself into. A love song that isn't sappy or too optimistic or cheesy. An honest one where nothing is sugarcoated. A song that can lull me back into a calm mood. A song to take me far, far away from reality.

Any suggestions?