Notes From 2-6-2012

6 02 2013

How can I ever tell you?

How will I start?

I’m afraid of the responsibility.

I’m afraid of the enormous obligation it will ask of me.

I’m afraid to fail.

I’m afraid that we might be making a mistake.

I’ve never been so unsure.

What if this is all a mistake?

What if we’re misunderstanding things?

I’m so scared.

I don’t want to lose.

I’m so confused.

What if we’re wrong?

What am I supposed to do?

What am I supposed to say?

I want to be with you but …

I’m having cold feet.

Is getting married really the right thing to do now?

I’ve stopped putting the wedding together because every time I move forward something tells me that I need to stop. To stop and think if this is what I really want.

Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?

I’m so scared. we’ve been fighting for three weeks now and maybe, just maybe I’ve induced those fights because of all these bad thoughts.

How is this possible? After all the kindness and love you’ve shown me.

Why am I so scared?

Oh God, I don’t know anymore.





Notes from 5-2-2010

2 05 2012

I’ve been bobbing in and out of consciousness for more than I care to admit. I’ve been mostly like a zombie, running errands, meeting deadlines and delivering my intended output. Apart from that, I haven’t really lived.

No fire. No light.

What I’m trying to say is quality. The kind that does not numb you from your inner self. The kind that will not rob you of choice. The kind that will let you say, “I’m off to bed, if I don’t wake up, that’s fine. I’ve lived”

***

I’m not attracted to drama. I need to survive and too much of that is comparable to slitting my wrist.

I’m all about self preservation. But have you ever been stuck, confused, helpless and utterly lost. That’s where I am at right now.

And don’t call me Emo, if you know what’s good for you.

***

Good news, bad news. I’m bored out of my skull and a relationship issue is brewing – thus a time off is needed.

Since everyone is busy – including you — I am headed to the mountains myself. Don’t worry, this is not the first time I ran off with me. I’m a backpacker. And we can be stubborn when we feel the need to leave … and leave I will, with or without cpmpany.

So before packing my bag, I had to run all my errands and endorse work items. Then tickets. Bought a round trip, called for a room reservation, then wrote on a piece of paper my very short itinerary.

When I get back, I’ll be appropriately tired. Too tired I won’t have time to entertain death by boredom.

Stupid boredom – oh well at least I’m paid lounging around. How many of you can say the same? LOL, I thought so.





Woops!

27 02 2012

And ten days later, here we are, still struggling to run a regular beat for this page.

Why in the world is time so darn expensive?

One of these days I’m going to find time again. As soon as I am done with all the urgents, the deadlines and the must dos, I will write something a little more decent here.

But just so you are aware, I am crushing on Andrew Garfield. Drool.





When You Say Trenta, It Means 30. Right?

17 02 2012

Are your ready foooooor …

The Trentaaaaaa!!!?

There was an audible toot when this was launched and although it has not entered my side of the globe, people are nonetheless stoked. Some may want to attempt not to keel over in undertaking its deep tub and some may just want to gawk.

And gawk, I shall do.

If and only if, I buy an SB Trenta it will only mean I am off to share it with someone. Make that 3 someone’s. Just the thought of it makes me want to formulate a way to not eat in three straight months. Until I can find it safe (that I won’t suddenly turn to a 350 lbs lady) I’ll live off the remnants of it’s ridiculous un-nutritional content.

Call me anti-hipster, prude or even anti-social (I think people socialize via coffee nowadays) I don’t give a hoot nanny’s. The only time I can assure myself that I will enjoy my coffee is if I stay below Grande. Anything over would mean a feat to overcome. A great coffee bender of epic proportion.

Ugh! No fun.





A Bit Better Now

10 02 2012

Ahhh, what a good time out. Nonchalantly reading anything that I want. Indeed a lovely day. If I wasn’t such a fatty trying to lose a bit of weight, a can of soda and a bag of chips would be nice.

But right now this is just fine. I love reading. Whether I understand it or not, I read. If perhaps I get the point and I end close to the author’s thoughts, then I’m happy. If not, I always tell myself I can move to another article that can perhaps whet my interest and recommend to friends.

After two days of busy business, I guess a little reprieve really does help.

I’m going home early today. Isn’t that lovely?. I hope you are doing as great as I am… if not you can always go to sleep or catch a movie to enjoy the blessings of escapism.

I can’t wait for Sunday. I get to see hot air balloons again.





For The First Time

9 02 2012




Ay Caramba!

3 02 2012

I am forming a cornucopia in my face. Darnit!

With a measurable work load, wedding plans, writing and keeping a relationship (the last one is actually no work at all, yey!) zits are breaking out like there’s no tomorrow. And while my prowess in balancing work and life is obvious, I’m failing oh so miserably in the zit department. Or should I say the zit department is winning by leaps.

I was told that with the amount of things required of me and the very little time I have to relax, it’s directly affecting my skin. By staying ahead of my tasks, my body’s responding by staying put in its decision to breakout. Right now the only solution I see is visiting my dermatologist, something that will cause me a lot of grief because, one it’s expensive and two, it hurts like (expletive deleted).

After the visit, I would also have to suffer the customary peeling and looking disconnected – smiling would hurt. By this time I’d be full of indignation, getting in my way would be a bad idea. While visiting the dermatologist can fix my zit issues faster than you can say Shazam! it isn’t so easy when you walk around red-faced and peeling. Note that this is a five to seven days quasi-torture.

The world may be ambivalent to these afflictions but hell, the voice at the back of my head won’t let up until the last redness disappears.

I clock countless hours to keep a (good and happy) life, but I feel like my zits have been so inert (you’re supposed to be gone by now, I’m pass my teen years!) it is attempting to trash all that.

I can’t believe my zits are as stubborn as I am.