Friends – Page 22 – The Diary of The Deranged Writer

Gratitude Log I

2 weeks ago, I saw an Instagram post from musician, gamer, and cosplayer Ms. Ashley Gosiengfiao, and it got my attention because it’s about being thankful. Let me quote a part of the caption.

For 1 week, mentally (or even verbally) say thank you to the universe for every little thing. For every cup of coffee, for the roof over your head, for the gadget that you’re using to read this right now, for your nice skin today, for that momentary gust of wind on this hot day, for that pretty butterfly that just flew by, etc.

EVERY. LITTLE. THING. That you receive or that you just happen to find beautiful.

Listen I: Foo Fighters’ “The Pretender”

I was twelve years old when I saw the first music video that almost broke my neck because of intense headbanging: “All My Life” by the alternative/hard rock band Foo Fighters. Since that hot, sweaty afternoon MTV viewing in 2002, the Foos have always been on my top 20 bands, and I enjoy their classics like “Everlong” and “Best of You”. But back then, I was a casual fan; I knew the hits, but I was unfamiliar with their full albums and deep cuts, and I wasn’t paying attention to their release dates.

But that all changed in 2008 when my friend, Chris Otes, introduced me to “The Pretender” while we were on an MRT ride home.

10-Minute Warning II

Okay. So, what can I type in ten minutes after drinking six highball glasses of Jack and Coke in under an hour?

It’s been a long time since my last steady relationship, and I want to say this on The Diary: I don’t deserve a breakup email. I may have made mistakes, and any form of breakup is awful, but come on. A breakup email? Fuck that shit.

In other news, why did I drink six glasses of Jack and Coke tonight? Because I want to. Since 2022, I promised to drink my favorite Jack and Coke every week, but I only drank four glasses last January. Last week I drank four glasses, and tonight I drank six. So, that’s ten glasses of Jack and Coke this February. My therapist will kill me because of the more-than-a-fuckload consumption of my favorite drink. But come on. Let me live a little.

Speaking of my therapist, my last actual session was last July 2022. Is the date of my last session a sign of progress? Some of my friends think so. But I think it’s weird. Almost seven months? I should check up on my therapist via email. Soon. Maybe not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. I’m so drunk as hell right now.

And time’s up.

Header image: Marcin Dampc of Pexels. Edited in Adobe Photoshop 2022.

Updated on April 15, 2026 for clarity.