Fuck.ing.hell.

Sometime last Sunday my mother sent me a text message saying the house in Bulacan’s no longer flooded. Insert happiness here. I haven’t seen my siblings in months.

This morning (Tuesday), flood inside the house has reached the second step of the staircase. By my estimate that’s thigh-high. Apparently the Angat Dam has released water. Again.

My brother, who was then at home and had class in UST (Manila), had to ride a truck to get to Malolos (Bulacan’s capital). No passenger vehicles were entering/leaving our town, so he had to get on a bus from the capital.

When in fact, our town has its own bus station, now rendered useless by the flood.

To say I’m pissed is a horrible understatement.

* * *

Okay, then.

In happier news, French language classes are a definite go (I’ve just paid my tuition and membership fee, along with Almi). Yehey!

Last night I was able to finish two prose poems.

* * *

I say, I’m not used to not being cynical. I kinda miss it. Friend says, Try it on; maybe it’d look good on you.

Okidoki.