let’s make happy moments~

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?

That said, I should wake my sleeping brain and get back to work.

duality

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.

Until then.

outcry

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.

And if listen and sing to japanese pop/rock to keep from flying apart, what business is it of yours?

introspection

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.

Yes, it’s the inevitable Valentine’s day rant.

Ugh. It’s that day again. V-day. The day when couples and lovers innocently mock us in their saccharine bliss.

Oh, hell.

craving for apathy

Is apathy really so bad?

Rage, rail, rave, and roar, says I.

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 

look inside

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

obscure

It’s been ages since I last posted something here. I haven’t even blogged about Christmas or my New Year Celebrations. It seems a strange thing to me. I used to never run out of tales to tell. I used to look at life in vivid colors, used to think that there was always something exciting to look forward to around the corner somewhere.

Oh, well. I guess there just comes a point in our life when disillusionment comes in.

I really must blog some more, if only to get back into the habit of writing. Of purging disturbing thoughts and emotions. Of letting go. And self-therapy. I could probably list twenty more reasons, but I think the aforementioned ones are sufficient to get my point across.

Like Menger commented once, I haven’t been updating – he hoped it didn’t reflect the “reality” – which means my life must be so friggin’ empty or just downright boring these days.

It’s not so much my life as it is me. I guess I’ve been feeling lazy or something. Or there are…stuff…that I’m just not free enough to regale people with right now.

I hate sounding obscure like this, but what the hell.

love. hate. what does it matter, anyway?

I hate you so much right now. It really isn't your fault. You haven't done anything except, well… make me fall for you. Unwittingly, of course. After all, you were only being yourself.

And I? I guess I was just being myself, too. My usual pathetic, love-hungry self.

Now whose fault was it that this happened?

Why does this always happen to me anyway? It seems nothing has ever been RIGHT for me in the quest for love. I always LOSE. I never get the real thing, and all I can do is simply steal moments to treasure and keep. In the end, all I have are memories. And memories, in time, fade. Particularly when there is no one to share them with.

Sometimes I get so tired of pretending. Of hiding under the guise of friendship, of nonchalance. Of trying to stay away when all I want is to be nearer to you than your own shadow.

I hate you so much right now. Really. But I like you more, and I absolutely HATE that fact.