FED UP

it has just been days since the last tournament and i don't know why i am so hungry for more that last night, i even went on my own to a court where i do not know anyone and played till my body ached.

my frustration for the first game of the first tournament jitters is giving me a lust for smashing and manipulating and just giving the opponent a hard time if i could.

i'm drowning in badminton blood lust~

help~

The tournament that I have entered was entitled "Smash for a Cause".

The cause was for a cancer patient who was undergoing chemotherapy, the patient was a friend of the core group of the initiators of this tournament wherein, being my first ever tournament, I ended up in the Semi Finals.

The beneficiary passed away...

Whoever you are, thanks for this tournament... I've learned much of my strengths and weaknesses and your joining our Creator has made people of different walks of life meet and learn.

Though to me you are unnamed, you are blessed and have blessed others. You've touched my life, somehow.

It started with a motive of losing weight then it changed into an outlet for anger.

Now, after 10 pounds of body fat loss, months of training both with weights and endurance, nights of dreaming of the game itself, my very first tournament starts 8 AM tomorrow.

I never knew I'd go this far.

Never knew.

I don't know why I am so inspired by Megatron's original Frank Welker voice. Transformers dialogs are definitely more than meets the eye.

I AM
76%
MEGATRONTake the Transformers Quiz

I think I'm becoming too ambitious for my age~

With the sudden drop of the real estate industry in the usa, and our friends and partners there, taking the bulk of the impact, nieves told me to donwload this song that has so much meaning for a man who... well... means less than nothing to me, i guess? or maybe he's done a lot, indirectly, to you.. me... everybody on the planet who's suffering now.


The song goes:


"Dear Mr. President"
(feat. Indigo Girls)

Dear Mr. President,
Come take a walk with me.
Let's pretend we're just two people and
You're not better than me.
I'd like to ask you some questions if we can speak honestly.

What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street?
Who do you pray for at night before you go to sleep?
What do you feel when you look in the mirror?
Are you proud?

How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye
And tell me why?

Dear Mr. President,
Were you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
How can you say
No child is left behind?
We're not dumb and we're not blind.
They're all sitting in your cells
While you pave the road to hell.

What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?
I can only imagine what the first lady has to say
You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine.

How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye?

Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Minimum wage with a baby on the way
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Rebuilding your house after the bombs took them away
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Building a bed out of a cardboard box
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
You don't know nothing 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
Oh

How do you sleep at night?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Dear Mr. President,
You'd never take a walk with me.
Would you?