I had a Coke slushie today.

And if you've been stalking my blogpost well enough, you'll notice that it was what I always got for at 7-Eleven. A plain Coke slushie.

To further my advances into my old habits, I went and ate instant "ramen" noodles at 11 o clock in the evening, watching Dexter and tweeting about it. Thing is, all of these stuff is what I used to do the same time 2 years ago. And as I found myself immersed in my old habits, I felt a deep sense of nostalgia.

That this is how things are supposed to be.

But you see, things have changed. I've met so much people (and lost most of them), I'm still stuck up in school and can't even talk to my seatmate, I've cut my hair shorter... but I fell back into my old nuances. Maybe it's me wanting to go back to a time when I was merely a spectator of thousands of worlds described in the written word, when life was Coke slushies, pepperoni pizzas, and late-night TV marathons. Maybe I wanted to go back to a time when life was simpler.

But then again maybe I'm just longing for a friend still.

I've read my old blogposts (which mind you, was made about a year ago), and I could embarrasingly say that I am still encountering the same problems as I had back then: still at a loss for words.

I would kill for one of these.

Gone are the times that I have written dramatic blogposts, treating everything as a cryptic metaphor for something else. I am not promising though, that I would update this blog more often (which I always do, by the way, everytime I have had a long period of time between posts... which nobody reads anyway) Probably the future me will have an easier time reading about posts that detail what happened in my day, without having to worry about what satte of mind I was in when I was writing such posts.

So today, I went to school. I tried with all my might to not skip a class, and miraculously, I did. For the first time in this week, I was able to attend all of my classes. Awesome. Then I bought some awesome dice (I'm into Pathfinder by the way), had a Coke slushie, played some Crysis 2... and gave up when the objective was too hard to accomplish.

Looking at it, it was probably a very average day for me. I was actively trying to ignore the bugging compulsion of regularly checking my phone for... messages, and I succeeded. I kept myself busy by watching Dexter and thinking about life when it was still simple.

The megaphone

Sometimes when I write a post in this blog, it feels as if I'm talking to no one. That I'm just a small squeak amongst the thundering voices around me.

It's red. I like red.

Sometimes I miss the activity. The buzz of comments around my posts, the countless eyes that read my thoughts and my cryptic messages. I was quite the popular kid when I was in elementary, so I took this for granted. Because everyone had their eyes on me. Because in the same school where I studied, my mom was a teacher. Because I was favored, studied, liked, investigated. Every move I make is observed.

The attention was all mine.

And now, here I am, writing to a blog that anyone barely notices. Like in the real world, my voice is a dot in the myriad dots that punctuate the internet. A small contributor to the vast knowledge of society, the massive archive of human thoughs and feelings, all within the bits and bytes of the digital world.

But maybe then I liked the solace. Maybe, I liked how only I can read my blogs, that it just serves as a personal archive of my own thoughts, unblemished by the pressure of pleasing my audience everytime I click Publish. That in my own little space on the internet, I could be me.

Then I shrug all these thoughts, and think, Whether my blog is popular or not, I still have trouble expressing my feelings plain and bare on the internet, anyway. That I still hide my thoughts in cryptic forms, that I still take pleasure in bewildering my readers so as for them not to have an actual glimpse of what I'm talking about.

Cucumbers.

Good luck finding the meaning behind that. In the end, it doesn't matter how popular or unpopular I am, it's whether or not I trust anyone with my thoughts that matter.

Pizza. 

Like Frankie said, I did it my way.

Regrets, I've had not a few, but a lot. Like tonight.
So guys, here's the plaintext.

It's the first day of school, and as always, I traversed the hallways alone. Typical immigrant non-native-English-speaking freshman dude. Three classes passed, and I never met a soul. Or maybe it's just me, trying to rush myself into things? Maybe it's just me not taking one step at a time.

Maybe. That's the same thing I thought when I attended my first class on campus, last summer. But whatever, maybe this term, I'll have to meet people. Maybe joining student organizations would be a great tactic after all. Maybe just pulling up all the courage I can get to say, "Hi, I'm Leonard" would get me places. After all, it's a 300-seater lecture hall and I could just move to another seat far away from one where a failed introduction occurred.

Two paragraphs of maybes. Just like any other typical youth blogpost, full of what ifs. What I hate is asking myself what if questions, unless I'm doing science. This post is intended to be one of those sleepy thoughts that I have while at school, or the myriad scattershot opinions I have at night. But no. Tomorrow, I will speak my mind. No more thoughts to myself.

Tomorrow, the world shall hear my story.

P.S. F'Real's strawberry milkshake is so fucking good.