Day 37



Today’s Friday and it’s as boring as yesterday. That pastor who produces mushroom fruiting bags is a damn liar like a damn politician. Justin told me that he has already sold all the damn bags. He has kept us waiting for too long, only to be told that there are no more fruiting bags. Well, he can eat all his stupid mushrooms now. I wish they were as poisonous as his stupid promises so that he will burn in hell. Ah, not a boring day at all.



Day 38



Around noon I heard over the radio about a stampede that killed 79 persons at the Philsport Arena in Pasig city. People from all walks of life, mostly the poor ones, were expecting to witness the first anniversary of the noontime TV show “Wowowee” but all ended up in tragedy. I still have to figure out who is to blame.



Day 39



I bought a Sunday issue of a national newspaper and the headline, as expected, is about the stampede. A part of me blames the unruly crowd. Another part blames . . . ah, stop blaming if you don’t understand.



Now I’m reading an article about Pacman’s mother. I think she’s a very strong woman just like her boxing son. I think I’m going to write a letter to the editor about her, maybe tomorrow.