A Sign of the Times

A few weeks back, my most favorite pair of flipflops met its untimely demise. I had just gotten home, I was about to step out of the car when the strap just snapped. Weird! I didn't know that it was possible to destroy a pair of havaianas. I always thought that these were borderline invincible --this pair in particular cos I've been toting this to anywhere and everywhere. This is my most used pair and this specifically has a lot of history and sentimental value.. but then again, recent events have lead me to believe that I may very well be mistaken and that what I gave value to may not deserve that kind of appraisal. I always think that it's better to be quiet or uninvolved rather than to throw a Tupperware party. Or when it's unavoidable, try not to be so transparent when your face is in plain view of other people who actually care. It's insulting really but at least I know better than to hold on to something that was never there in the first place.

I've been painfully reminded that ghosts will always be ghosts and when you least expect it, they'll come back to haunt you. The past few weeks with last night's culminating activity has got me desperately begging for an exorcism. Just when I think things are okay, they all come out one by one and bite me in the ass. It's exhausting really. I just wanna lie in bed and forget about everything. If this keeps up, I don't know how long I'll last.