my headache grid

i was scrutinizing in detail my whining sketches a few hours ago. reading through my thoughts from the past, i've pinpointed one weird lament. it's a conundrum amongst the compilation. still, just like any other bleeding pride, i was served with a frozen carcass and i had to retaliate with my winded pen. but despite that one instance, i've been offered tantalizing fried fishes recently and read an article about the best kansi in bacolod. most of the mild blue ladies are kind and helpful and that's no metaphor.

the tension headache from last night had all but disappeared. my mom used to tell me from across the shores that human beings need to work in order to eat. that was merely months after her stroke and she had this only daughter not getting along with virtual strangers in secret, the same drifters who cannot identify monica seles pounding two-handed backhands and forehands blaring live french open final on the tv screen.

these days, i have a choice whether to interact with fellow rovers during my free time or to simply grovel in my sentimental pool.

i write to ease the tension.

the point of all my denudations is to calm my nerves.