Let me be honest, I've been wanting to post something, anything in this little space since the day after the last post. The thing is, nothing interesting enough and blog-able is there to write about. Maybe I'm sick of myself going blahblahblah in all directions, showering everything with salt like a sumo wrestler that never stops preparing before one match, apprehensive, too hesitant to move on with the fight. It's my fifth day in the office and I've been blogging mostly (not here but for the company). I feel like I'm on some kind of mental-psychiatric meds (ruff help!), sedated and abnormally sober. Last night, I found it hard to sleep, then I woke up and saw a hazy silhouette by the closet (maybe it was just my imagination). On any other day I wouldn't know how to deal with that but I was just too exhausted to panic, so I just closed my eyes and tried sleeping again. Moments later, I wake up again, with the sweats. That felt a bit a strange because I was alone in my room, the air-conditioning was in a full blast high cool. Too exhausted to think about it more either. Chai calls me and informs me she just turned 22.
I go back to sleep with the lights on, Chai's call sort of woke me up from my lethargic state. I try sleeping again. I had particularly odd dreams, there was one were I was with a maid at Ayala; she wanted to try on this large and heavy beaded necklace. I say 'by all means', she picks it up and we both realize the necklace is broken, she tries it on anyway. I say 'it's too big, let's find something smaller.' Then suddenly I found myself trying on this jacket-cloak hybrid from artwork. It was supposed to be for a girl's but I was seriously thinking of buying it. Dream fades.
Anyway, here's my point. What sort of phase is this? When everything seems just FINE, a flat and full normalcy. I am used to extremes, but this mid-ground state is bothering me. I ride a jeepney or a cab and I look out the windows and think mild, uninteresting thoughts.
I looked up what I wrote exactly three years ago from today, to see if I could get something out of it. It was a poem I wrote after breaking up with James. I was so primal back then but lacked a lot of wisdom and backbone. Now, I'm...still me I guess..with some add-ons and trims (duh), but just insanely too AWARE of things. Here's a picture from my job-on-the-side of writing about art.
Utterly disturbing but only because it teases me like a mirror. Super Perfundo everyone.