withdrawal

11 pm. numinunoo.

i should be working on some homework, if i know what's good for me, but here i am. indulging narcissus on his mirror again. and that's real strange, for the "blogging" urge to come at this unholy hour, when there's nothing much to tell really. except for the stuff i've mentioned in recent rantings. and the mundane activities of a normal day. my life is boring. so boring even i am getting bored by it.

what do i tell, anyway. the action has yet to happen where work is concerned, and everything is still at paperwork level. do i talk about this book i just finished, the once-hyped-about Da Vinci Code (which i couldn't put down, by the way)? do i talk about, hmm, last night's halloween party, or my tendency for bingeing on carbos and sweets these days, or my Galera Getaway Dream before i go back to the shooting set again? yea mehn, i can rant on and on about these inanities, these little trivias about the day-to-day pseudoexistence. but i won't.

maybe what i really want to say is this. life is bland when you're in that...i dunno...state of emotional balance. you're not too happy, not too sad. not too tired, not too lethargic. and yes, not infatuated with anyone.

haha. pathetic. love--and its lesser equivalents--may not be the meat of life, but it's that froth, that flavor, that icing on the cake that makes everything just so dang colorful. and so dang colorful to write about.

for the past few weeks I’ve been in some kind of self-administered therapy. Tryin to recover from something that I would much rather consider a sickness. Call it a less drastic process than that which Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet had gone through in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. and i must say, I’ve been, well, making fair progress. Considering.

everything would all have been well for me except for one thing. back when I would let myself openly, freely feel something for someone, life was just so…exciting. There was pain, yes, but it was a hazard worth tolerating for the joys i'd get.

those were the days, and those days are over. for good reason. and while i'm still hell-bent on keeping up with the program, moments come when somehow i feel like all color from this life has just seeped out.

and while your normal conclusion might be that i am missing the person, i think i've figured myself out. it's not the person i miss. it's the feelings. the froth and the flavor, the icing on the cake. and that’s the truth about this whole frog princess fairy tale. what can I say. maybe we all make our own emotional drugs.

as is the usual question of a rehabilitating addict going through withdrawal: if it was so bad for me, then why did it make me feel so good?

i'm not about to go into that now. i've had it with playing shrink to myself, at least for tonight.