  I was extra KSP today… I couldn’t stop about any topic that didn’t concern me. It was both annoying and embarrassing. Today I wore my suede jacket, that my dad gave me, most of the day cause I was sick. I told my boss that I would be done with the story board by Friday (the end of the day) and he expected a high impact presentation. WOW! You fucking me!?! I’m not gonna give a freaking presentation when you just told me that you wanted a story board that I’ll be doing all the grunt work.
Well Kezo is not joining us on the way home and my mom’s birthday tomorrow. I got Melchior’s Testimonial for me today. Cool! I mean it got me thinking cool. I’m patriotic but I’m leaving my country. I think I’m a patriot but I have western sensibilities. I love my country but can’t stand my own countrymen. Is life truly this complex. I think I’m spiritual but I praise no religion.
I was born and bred a catholic, but hate how inflexible some of it’s members can be and how people use it as a device for their own personal gain. I don’t want to be part of something that can be used for a selfish purpose. In a country filled with the depressed, oppressed, and regressed, there is always enough faith. Faith that comes from desperate men, who are cornered and have no other means to change their lives than to give in to the whims of those who wish only to use them.
Oh there I go again… ranting this rant. I’ve decided that I will run a short horror story for October 25. The prelude would be… Don Vicente looks out from his marble veranda towards the forested expanse. He looks to the direction of Arevalo where so much of his power and wealth flows. He tries to piece the image of the city sprawling towards his direction. It grows outward as the infrastructure and prosperity he creates feeds the land he so deeply loves.
But something else stirs in Don Vicente’s heart. There is something dark, something consuming him, and consuming this lush greenery that surrounds his magnificent home. His garden maze has turned to thorns, his wall’s choked with vines, and his servants driven mad. No one approaches this house anymore; no one visits the benevolent Don anymore. No one seems to remember him anymore. A woman’s voice can be heard crying in the night. Calling out to anyone who would pass this majestic home. Those who have visited him recall the ancient beauty that permeates the walls of the Don Vicente’s ancestral home and its haunting magnificence. Don Vicente holds the throne of the La Noce Mercados. They are as illusive and as secretive as their master to find. They have been those instrumental in the success of Arevalo’s sprawling business despite the marauding British Privateers that watch the bay like sharks for prey. Fortunately Don Vicente has a friend… a dear friend indeed. A friar called Damien, Prayle Damien seeks to re-establish his contact with Don Vicente but cannot breach the dense woods that hide the path to the estate, for to deal with the La Noce Meracados one has to deal with Don Vicente. This is when Ramon Cortez, a religious, approaches several friends to help him in return for favors and a chance to deal with the La Noce Mercados Exclusively.
… There is my primer. I hope you all can appreciate the 10 minutes I spent writing it. Another Rant They dare compare my thesis to ANITO… how could they compare a hack and slash RPG (Diablo engine) with my thesis! Those out there, friends, who know what I have done know how much depth and character has been placed into the setting of 1888. Not only does it ignore the historical research I have put into the setting but also ignore what it means to be truly proud being a Filipino. Picture a fad… and picture a milestone. What may be there for just a short instant, but one serves a purpose and a lasting mark. 
