My mother sent me some 11,005 liters worth of Four Seasons Juice.  Before anything, I would like to interrupt myself with a memory.  Those that become my friends eventually know that my mother works for Del Monte, Inc.  And that I tell myself if it's another brand I'm allergic to it.  When the new juice came out as "Four Seasons" my friends immediately asked me about it.  See, my last name is Sison.  And that time, there were only four of us children.  It's amusing, really.  What coincidence. 

Anyway, not totally unrelated to that, but somewhat on a different note, I get back to the 11,005 liters of Four Seasons.  I was beginning to get sick of it.  When it came, I did not know water.  Breakfast, lunch, dinner, Four Seasons.  I brushed my teeth with the liquid.  Until my drinking persona awoke within me and gave me divine intervention.  It's amazing how the lack of money to go for videoke can inspire such thoughts.

The idea wasn't really inspiring.  Not even unique.  But for two days of talking to random people if they purchased from ^%$#@ TV or saying they're credit card's expired, Four Seasons rung like magic. Four Seasons with alcohol.  The name for that is Distraction.

If you had been acquainted with me personally, or through my writings, what you are about to read will make you think I am contradicting myself.  And take note, I am not happy to be contradicting myself. 

I need a shrink.  I hate analyzing myself.  And I hate the word Analyze.  Thank Sudarshan Khadka, Jr. for that.

Who was I to pity?  Who was I to feel lucky?  I had enough resources to support me, to cover my screw-ups and start over.  I was merely passing the time away.  So was everyone.  I was in a tunnel with the rest of the lost boys.  And all this time I thought I wasn't.  I'd think, at least I could move on.  I'd be burning with passion any day now, just you wait.  Then reality gave me this out-of-body experience.  I was one with the stars, looking at myself, with the rest of them.  Not as people drowning in the crowds of people.  But as frustrated youths.  So this was how it felt?

I am a passionate being.  A fighter for love.  If only I could fight for everyone.  And the 11,005 liters of Four Seasons took its toll on me and squeezed my chest.  I realized it was indeed coincidence.  The world did not revolve around me.  Fuck Paulo Coehlo and the universe.  I did not want to die, but who fucking cared?  They were just as lost as I was.

Yet, if I were to end this train of thought with this kind of mood, wouldn't you think there was no future for me?

Then maybe it is better to move on with a lie.  Before you and I condemn me as a loser, I'd just like to scream to the world that I own.  And the name for that is Empowerment.