Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Moving On

Seems like I'll be taking up permanent residency here. Thanks for all the fond memories (and the fish). Dear Dreamshaft, you shall be missed.

Saturday, April 07, 2007

Found myself a hubby but not a hobby

Yesterday I was very restless. I didn't know how to handle the drastic change in pace. I mean, all of a sudden I find myself not doing anything work-related. I was just lazing around the house reading and watching divx movies. Towards the end of the day, I felt like I've lost my footing. I went to bed haunted again by morbid thoughts.

But I seem to have regained balance now. Thankfully! Perhaps I just needed some time to adjust. So, I've been taking it easy the whole day, watching movies without feeling guilty. Finally got to watch Naruto again. Tomorrow I'll probably catch up on Prison Break and watch The Departed. Let's see how it fares against the original, Infernal Affairs. It is good to relax. Sooo frikkin' good. ;) And blogging is therapeutic indeed.

-oOo-

Last Sunday, I was scouring the shelves for a book to while away the time. I haven't finished Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell but didn't want to continue reading it as I feel it's too lengthy for the ADD-afflicted me. So I just went ahead and picked out Quincunx by Charles Palliser, a novel of Dickensian flavor. Now this book has almost the same number of pages as Jonathan Strange... but with a smaller type. Go figure. Sometimes I myself don't understand how my mind works.

I told my hubby about this weird book choice and you know what he said? That I should find myself a hobby. That I should meditate and find out what my passion is. I told him I know what my passion is...working! Then I threw this question at him: can't working be a hobby? You can probably guess that he gave me an exasperated look.

So, now I am plodding through the internet, where you can find virtually anything, for a hobby. Something to keep my hands busy and maybe improve my dexterity. My hands definitely need to be dexterous in things other than typing. However, nothing appealed to me--well, there were some that struck my fancy--but nothing that made me want to pursue it. Learned something new, though. I didn't know retrocomputing is hobby. I think it's more like a luddite's way of life.

Well, I guess that's it for tonight. My eyes are tired. Hopefully tomorrow Google will give me better search results for a hobby.

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Cogito ergo sum

And therein lies the dilemma. I might be thinking a bit too much. But at least my blog would be pleased to have my words rescue it from desolation. It probably thought it'll never see me again. I'm even surprised that it's still here, and seems to be waiting for me, despite my silence for more than a year. I guess now my blog feels pretty special that it got resurrected a week before Jesus Christ.

But there's a reason why I'm breaking this silence. I need this blog as much as it needs me. And probably now I need it more than it needs me. Once again, this blog is my soul salvation.

-oOo-

Seven years ago I despaired over molehills like it was the end of the world. I threw tantrums and launched into histrionics over things that a five-year-old would--and I was 23 at the time. Which just proves that when you're young you know nothing. Yes, shame on me. But I'm thankful that that person (or persona) has decided to keep herself scarce nowadays.

Today, there's really nothing to despair about. For almost five years now, life has been good. But why do I feel as if I'm fraying around the edges? Why do I feel like bursting into tears at any moment, without provocation? Why do I feel as if time is passing me by when I'm moving so fast my shadow can hardly keep up with me? Why do I find myself trying so hard to get something done that I end up not getting anything done at all? And why, when I need it the most, is sleep evading me? Further, what do I make of the morbid thoughts that sneak into my head? And what about this nagging emptiness inside of me? I hate it with all the energy I have left in my tired mind and body. But the more I try to rid of it, the more it seems to conquer me.

I am bleeding but there is no wound. I am hurting in that empty space between the heart and the soul. And it scares the life out of me--literally.

I swear, sometimes I think I’m going crazy.