I’m supposed to be working. It’s 6:22 as I write this, and I’m supposed to be doing something. But as I stare at my screen I feel my mind glaze over and begin to hibernate, and I can’t remember what it is I should be doing.
Where to start? What to do?
Ah~ I want to learn Nihonggo. But that’s not really what I should be keeping my attention on at the moment. Sigh~ My addiction is pulling at the strands of my being, and I feel torn.
Torn between being an ordinary girl who crushes on unreachable stars and turns giddy over mere pictures, and the quiet girl who focuses on her dreams to write and BE someone to look up to.
Strange. All my personalities always seem to be at war with each other. I always fall back into any one of them at any one time. Could I ever turn them all into one strong, cohesive force, I wonder?
I want to be a strong person. But I want to become strong in my own way. I don’t want other people to push their concepts of strength at me, telling me that this or that is what I should do, that this or that is wrong, that I am not on the right path.
I know some people mean well. But if I am not happy doing something, why should I keep doing it, right? If being somewhere makes me feel like I am out of place, why should I stay there? Why lose my sense of self just so I can be with others and get them to like me?
Life should be about making as many happy moments as one can. I am tired of living up to expectations that aren’t mine. I am sick of acting the way others do just for acceptance. I should be more myself, so that I can make more happy moments.
That said, I should wake my sleeping brain and get back to work.
Ethereal. That is how I feel. Like I’m living two lives, walking two worlds, all at the same time.
How difficult it is to put into words. This…duality.
I feel almost insubstantial. Drifting between two realities, half of me in one, half in the other, never complete, never truly whole.
Which one is the true reality?
I am fading, dissolving into a shade of wishes, what-ifs, and what-might-have-beens, dwindling into a mass of sundered dreams and shattered hopes. And when time comes to claim me, all that is left of me will vanish into the silence that lurks behind every soul.
Until when shall I give in to this two-fold existence? Would you argue that I am clearing a path into madness? Would you understand if I said that it is this very duality that has kept my hold on sanity? Would you believe that when one cannot find refuge from loneliness, the lure of dreams becomes a drug, and words like these are mere residues of a dream-infested high?
Hahaha. Well, I don’t really care much. Personal exorcisms are just that - personal. My demons may not be the same as yours. Vanquishing them may take a while.
Until then, I shall bridge these two worlds, scrambling freely from one end to the other, here one moment, there the next, like some diaphanous deity who comes down from her palace in the sky to frolic in the sands of the earth, just for a little while.
Until I can finally find my place among the stars, blissful in the arms of Night.
Until then.
People should have the right to be antisocial. Or weep for no apparent reason. Or both.
Funny how things never go the way you want them to when you need them to. Like when you desperately need everyone to leave you the hell alone, and they buzz around you like flies. Or when there’s something you badly need to finish in peace and quiet, and people persistently interrupt your thoughts.
It would seem that Newton’s third law was never meant for motion alone. It would seem that, incredibly, the whole universe - no, existence itself - has conspired to produce the exact opposite of that which you so desire.
Or maybe I’m just rambling along here, to give my brain an excuse to play hooky.
Old Macdonald had a farm. E. I. E. I. O.
On the other hand, no, I’m not just rambling. I’m raging. And I want the world to leave me alone. By “the world” I mean people in the immediate vicinity. I’m having one of my phases, and if I could lock myself in a room with my PC for a month, I’ve no doubt I’ll emerge triumphant with a finished story draft.
I wish it were that easy. I wish the world didn’t have to interfere so much with me. I wish I didn’t have to lay my writing aside because I have to earn my keep writing about something I don’t even care about.
And if listen and sing to japanese pop/rock to keep from flying apart, what business is it of yours?
Once upon a time, one night, in a little out-of-the-way place where dreamers drink their thoughts away and lose their souls in a quick game of pool, they talked like old friends.
He said, "Why don’t you have a boyfriend?"
She answered, "I don’t know. No one’s interested, I guess."
She looked at him. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Not yet, but there’s someone I like."
"Planning to woo her?"
"Yes."
Silence. She watched him arrange the balls into a perfectly neat diamond.
"Maybe you’re just closing your doors," he murmured.
"What?"
"Don’t close your doors."
"What do you mean?"
"Basta, don’t close your doors," he said with a smile.
She looked at him helplessly. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
He smiled again. "Your break," he said.
it seems pretty ironic that, now that i have my own pc, i still can’t update my blogs as often as i ideally should. i am battling that age-old dilemma of wanting to do too many things at once.
i’ve been reading other people’s blogs. other writers’ blogs, in particular. and one thing i can conclude is: my writing has turned stagnant. sometimes i don’t want to admit it to myself, but i know that i am less inspired than i used to be.
ideas don’t come as quickly, and i feel like i’m floating in a void. is it because my mind has grown tired? if i had the money, i’d go away for a month, sequester myself in a cottage by the sea, and write to my heart’s content.
or is it the disillusionment of adulthood? in a sense, i never wanted to grow up. i wanted to stay in that age when dreams seemed so bright and enchanting, when i thought fairies were real and knights in shining armor existed in distant magical castles.
even so, reality was always creeping round the corner, and i know that as long as i am sane, i will never escape it.
this is not to say i wanted to go mad and live in illusions forever. it’s just that sometimes reality can be disheartening, and people can hurt you.
i hope that with this post, i have retrieved what i thought was once lost: the habit of blogging without really caring if people understood me. because i’ve found out that, despite my misgivings, there are others like me. when i read their blogs, i understand. and when they read mine, they know. and no words need be said. just a simple sharing of thoughts between like minds.
i’ve also discovered that the people who really know me well enough don’t actually need to understand. they just read beyond the words and straight to the heart of me.
Ugh. It’s that day again. V-day. The day when couples and lovers innocently mock us in their saccharine bliss.
No offense to couples out there; these are just the frivolous ramblings of a single, unattached female deep in the throes of envy.
LOL.
I was thinking of passing up on a Valentine’s day post (I believe I did that last year) and just ignore the whole world. Hole up inside a bubble of oblivion and pretend the blasted day never came.
But… flowers are so hard to resist.
No, no one gave me flowers (dear God, i wish i was lying!) nor was I able to buy myself flowers even though I badly wanted to (I’m broke until payday). But the mere sight of them broke through my self-imposed apathy.
I adore flowers. To me they are Nature’s fashion accessories, the jewelry with which she proudly adorns herself. Yes, flowers make me happy. (I did say I was a sappy sentimentalist, didn’t I?)
And so, last night, seeing the frenzy in every flower shop along the route home, I laid down my shield of detachment and gave in to the romantic in me.
I spun fantasies in my head, involving certain people and flowers. And hand-written love notes. And chocolates. And me screaming in stunned surprise and delight.
Oh, hell.
Is apathy really so bad?
A friend once said that apathy was one of her best friends. I’m beginning to think that I might very well agree with her.
It would probably seem like quite an unlikely picture, me being the sappy dreamer that I am. My friends would either laugh at me or think that something has seriously gone wrong.
But I guess it’s not really that far-off an idea, you know, for a sentimental, head-in-the-clouds type of individual to see the other side as sanctuary when being haunted by aching, lingering pain. I sure would hightail it there, if it meant asylum.
Sometimes I just get so weary of certain circumstances. Have you ever felt that it’s so unfair when, here you are, in pursuit of your own bliss, and events or people around you are unwittingly trying their damnedest to sink you back into despair?
It’s not fair to have to depend on other people for your happiness. It leaves you open and vulnerable to disillusionment. And I tell you, that cuts like a freshly sharpened stainless steel knife.
One thing that really gets my goat is people’s misconception that because I am a writer, I can spew out lines of copy with a snap of my fingers.
Or their fingers, to be more precise.
I am not a robot, nor am I a production worker. I work with words inside my head. Have they never heard of creative thinking time? And there IS such a thing as writer’s block.
I swear, some people think we’re like a fast food restaurant. They order something and expect to get it in less than 15 minutes.
I’ve tried to explain many times that it just doesn’t work that way. Specifically, I don’t work that way. I need my thinking time if you want anything above crap.
And the other thing I really hate, sometimes enough to want to blow someone’s brains out, is being interrupted when I’m writing or thinking. A line of thought can be as delicate and tenuous as mere thread. One strong jolt and it breaks. Oftentimes, it scatters, and you have to go find and piece the fragments together again. Sometimes, those fragments get irreparably lost.
So I think my wrath is understandable in these cases. Although, I don’t really erupt in rage to show how upset I am. It makes matters worse, and besides, think of the stress and all the energy I must expend to work up a fury. I do get quite moody, though. Some people know me enough to realize the danger signs, and stay away.
For those who don’t, well, I might just snap. =P
It happened once. I was writing an article for a paper, and this alien from outer space decided to butt in and wouldn’t stop bugging me.
alien: So, Stef, I was wondering what you think about blah blah blah…?
me: Hmmm? (taps keyboard noisily)
alien: You know, I was just thinking what your opinion is blah blah?
me: Eh? (continues to type noisily) Sorry, I’m still writing…
alien: Just for a moment, I just wanna know blah blah…
me: (gives short answer and pointedly goes back to typing noisily)
alien: But what if blah blah blah blah?
me: Please? I’m trying to write.
alien: But I’m only blah blah…
me: Will you please shut up and let me concentrate? I need to finish this and YOU ARE BUGGING ME!
alien: (looking crestfallen) Stef, I never thought you could be so maldita.
me: (shoots fire from eyes and thinks you better leave now or you’ll see exactly how MALDITA I can be!)
alien: (runs away)
:P
I think I give off the impression of being quite uninteresting. People generally make assumptions based on what the eyes can see, unfortunately. And I’ve got quite a few things going against me. I’m chubby, for instance (I’m desperately wanting to go into denial about this, but what the heck. I was skinny 5 years ago, but that’s another story). I am fair-skinned and plain-faced, so naturally I never stand out. I dress simply in comfy jeans and shirts, so I can’t generate any head-turning with my outfits (unless I wear one of those shirts with glaring messages on them - I have one that says, "Have you embraced my t-shirt today?"). I wear glasses, too, and they instantly add a touch of "geek" to the otherwise already unremarkable package.
But inside… heck, do make an effort to look inside. I may not be a very exciting person, but I think I’m quirky enough to at least merit a few tries at getting all figured out. =P
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i figured it was time for new beginnings. the old asylum was getting rather crowded, what with three years worth of lamentations.
so i have moved to a new home, a spankin' new asyLuM. if you miss the old one, you can still read my laments of yore here.
welcome, then.
look who’s talking. =P
Hello nerdies…
nerd…..
everything here is so fine. like to read more….
ey, i’ve added you to my blogroll already.. without waiting for your consent haha. ^_^
i’ll add u to mine as well! =)
@coriander: sure no problem! 
i’ve definitely been here before. would it be ok if i add this asylum to my blogroll? 
JOB fair for abroad is about to begin. Visit us now!
http://localhiring.blogspot.com/
i was here! darn, i like it here.
interesting.. calm.. beyond belief.. keep it up!
so based on my tracing abilities, i found out you run 4 interesting blogs, and i’ll have them bookmarked in my comp.
jeub! thanks for the drop.
touch landing. ^^,)
Hi there. Just passing by and read.
hello keep bloggin here!
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