after more than 24 hours of marathon eye-to-eye with my computer screen, i feel like soaking in the warm, warm blue-green waters of the sea. or drinking a big bottle of C2 peche.
the latest work was somekind of a childbirth. it was my first time as a single parent. i had no one to text or bug in the middle of the night. no one to merge minds for whatever reason or purpose. no one to help rear this child to full maturation. i miss that.
and while some part of me knows that anyone with the right passions would be perfectly capable of breezing through work life as i know it, it's not what i'm developing the blues (or the blahs) about. not the hollow. but what used to be there. i miss that.
well. could there be a more roundabout, more obscure, more annoyingly indirect, and eventually vaguer way of saying it?
my newest favorite songs: She Has No Time, Bedshaped, Somewhere Only We Know, We Might as Well Be Strangers, all by Keane.
speaking of Keane, , September 2 was Keanu Reeves' birthday. Happy 41st birthday, mid-90s poster boy.
it's the little dawdangies attached to what should be the essence. the froth and the flavor. the icing, the cherry on top. the stuff that i like to live for. haha. that's what i get the blahs-and-blues about.
i miss the surge of life that one feels when one is in the mood for creation. 24 hours ago was in one of my blankest hours. gwwrll. thanks to 1 san mig light, i'm a lot more loosened up now. happy birthday ate lina!
i miss that feeling of knowing exactly what to do and how to do it, right down to the minutest detail. that feeling of something spilling out of you, that you know you haven't encountered before in conscious memory, and something that even you, as creator, can be pretty happy with. and you, as creator, will inevitably be proud of.
i miss that feeling of gliding through things, and not letting that ink point on the paper grow into a huge black spot. god i hate that. it fries the brain a bit bad.
maybe that's just how things lag when you're robbed of a bright spot on a bad day. lag and lag they do. on and on across the universe.
when back then, say seven days ago, things would've been a bit different. but in the long run, i suppose, it would probably be for the ultimate good. ice thaws under high pressure. is that correct or is it the other way around?
it was childbirth of the normal kind, because it lasted more or less 24 hours. haha. at outline pa lang yan. in between pauses, yosis, blog entries, fwendsters, and what-have-you. the outlines are the hardest for me. the dialogues flow like nature but constructing legos is something that my cogs-and-wheels need to invest a li'l more time on. which is out of the question in this field.
wonder how it would have been if i had gone caesarean, like i guess how someone i used to (think) i know would do, wonder how it would've been.
slit, desensitize, churn it out. knowing me, it wouldn't have been fun without the labor pains. you feel each and every heave that you bring upon yourself, each and every second under a deadline that is usually unbeaten, each and every puff of poison gas that you take in for the excuse of sanity, each and every word and image and idea that you wring out of your quasi-creator's system. and when the work is done--for the moment, at least--the contentment is trebled as compared to something that didn't require so much pain. you allow yourself to enjoy those idle moments, if only for the very basic achievement of having finished something.
but what i'm sad about right now is that i haven't tended to that real baby from the womb. i'll have to adopt other babies in the future, and adopt i must. it's either adopt or have your own. but not remain childless anymore, ever.
haha. talking to myself. i like metaphors. even those that i made myself. they're something short of codes.
like a bright spot on a bad day.
on other issues, it's funny how dreams can reveal what we know or don't know. believe or not believe. feel or not feel. a friend of mine told me about somebody's dream, and on any ordinary time it would have made me laugh. told another friend of mine about that dream and he laughed, too.
other than laughs, though, it also made me increase my nicotine intake for a while.
i never would have dreamed something like that. because no matter which way i comprehend it, i do not believe. and kooky as i might be, i could never nurture any illusions about it. you come to live with a certain truth long enough, not even your imagination or your ability for make-believe can bend things for happiness' sake. oops! bend...no pun intended! ;-)
who knows, maybe my subconscious is more grounded. maybe it's more sensible than the conscious. precisely why i do not dream dreams like that. even if i feel different when i'm awake.
okay, on to more reader-friendly notes.
it's funny, the idea that there are people who love you more than you love them. now if that would be the case everytime, maybe we'd all run the risk of being spoiled rotten. or taking things (and people) for granted. or valuing things for less than they are actually worth.
but it makes you somewhat guilty, too, and i'm not talking about my mom or my dad or any family member. there just are people whom you will grow to love and people you will simply like and people who will only be a part of the population to you. and you can belong to either of those three categories in other people's lives. now if only we can equally reciprocate the intensity of affection that other people give us, then maybe most of the time we'd be happy.
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