夏の後に

hello~~ long time after I visit this blog. many events happened, and mostly I sleep ~.~

Hello So im in mood for nothing.  I dont want to do anything right  now but I have so much work-- li,  paper,  manga,  and soon which is troublesome. And my mood become worsen of someone. No,  dont judge him,  its my fault haha :-(( Omg this is not so me im contemplating to write this  thousand times but Do you believe in first sight hnggggg you know every damn guy I had ever like,  he is the first and i dont know why but when you see him,  you feel like,  ah!  I like him,  he is the one,  like wtf  I have never talk to him before and we rarely see each other like  fuck?  But when you see his face his smile his doing his everything im melting in sea of happiness unch :'')  ahh this sound too cheesy. Then i checked his ig,  and found out that maybe he already has gf。okay okay that is not my damn business but why the hell I always get this feeling for man who already has his significant others like fuck. But im okay since I've never tell someone about my feeling,  sur

Jadi sebenernya gue gak ada niat buat ngupdate, tapi ada satu mahluk yg pengen dia di masukin di blog gue,  ya jadi lah post ini. Ceritanya SRC lagi regenerasi gen 10.  Ada dua tahap,  pend.  Dasar dan lanjutan.  Pendas ini ada 4 pertemuan. Lumayan rame yg datang sih,  sekitar 50 an.  Gak tau yg bertahan wkwk soalnya pas jaman gue,  gen 9 yg lulus sekitar 30 an, yg aktif paling bisa dihitung lah. Ini adalah dyka.  Stalker blog ini.  Entah apa yg dilihat nya dr blog sampah  ini. Yak,  sesuai request gue pampang yah muka lu. Dan satu mahluk lagi,  yg dr kemarin udah ngebet pengen jadi anggota,  bobie,  nihil tak terlihat sepanjang mata memandang.  Ah,  sepik nih😧 Tapi sebenernya juga jadi atau gajadi anggota ga masalah sih,  karena gue sendiri kan ga niat juga,  hahah. Yasudah.

I I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night, who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz, who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated, who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the scholars of war, who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull, who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall, who got busted in their pubic beards returning through La