I'm Not Asleep, My Eyes Are Just Closed

Many, many years ago, when I was still young and starry-eyed I dreamed of becoming an author. The type of author who wrote the books that I loved. The kind of author I fiercely admired. But then other stuff happened, and reality set in. Even if I did do a different course at university, even if I did work in something related to writing i.e. journalism, editing, etc, I'd never really have a talent for writing the kind of books I wanted to write. I can't even tell a story or a joke verbally much less make a coherent story last 300 plus pages. At some point I thought, maybe if I had enough life experience, then I'd have something to write about. (Yeah, life experience, what is that anyway?) Then I realised, there was nothing unique about my existence to make it worth writing about, and certainly not special enough for anyone to invest money in it. Sure, maybe my life is interesting to me sometimes, or to certain relatives and friends, but one cannot base a career on that. At ...

It's funny how looking at some things make me inexplicably happy. I'm looking at a picture of him grinning and I'm grinning myself. I can't even remember how or when I developed a crush on him. I mean, he wasn't even my favourite *NSYNC-er back in *NSYNC's heyday - I thought JC Chasez was too cheesy, too earnest, too typical of the blue-eyed, all-American boy bander to be attractive to me. I preferred Chris Kirkpatrick with his dark eyes, dark hair, scowly face, ripping sarcastic comments but surprise, surprise, oh so angelic voice. At some point in the last month, I was hit by a bout of nostalgia and spent my time trawling through You Tube and listening to my old records and BAM! It hit me - JC Chasez is frikking hot. Like pour cold water on me now kind of hot. Even hotter when he had the longer curls instead of that awful crew-cut military do in the beginning of his career. He is sex on legs, and I bet he knows it. Ok, so he's less sexy now but he...

Weddings can be nice events. Weddings can leave you with a nice warm 'awww' feeling. I enjoy a well edited slide show presentation of the happy couple throughout their lives as much as the next person. (Key phrase here is well edited, people). But weddings can leave me feeling a little blue. Especially when you're there on your own. And when the guy next to you at the dinner table asks you why you're not married yet. And asks old how you are. Ffffffffuuuuuuu----

I haven't posted ANYTHING in a while. Well, that's what happens when Facebook gives you the opportunity to bleat whatever shit you have in your head without the need to form proper sentences. Also, I haven't really had the inclination to write anything. There's a scale to these things. Sometimes frustration and anger inspires you to write and write. But there comes a point where your frustration wearies you to the point of numbness - where writing does nothing but dig up all your problems for you to sniff over. So, I shut up. Because to write about it became like complaining and I wasn't getting anywhere with it. Also before that I dropped into a misery-hole of the mind where no creativity came forth and any energy I had was put into getting up every day, putting a smile on my face and going to work and doing what one has to do every day to be human. I also decide one day to not be so introspective about everything. I tend to direct energy inward (o gawd, I sound ...

Every experience one has had adds a little spot of colour on to the background of the personality one is born with.When a childhood is spent in a rough-and-tumble household, when the school-age years is spent in a competitive environment, when one learns throughout young adulthood to rely on oneself to achieve one's own goals and to feel the consequences of one's own decisions, one develops a certain attitude that is self-centric. I ponder my own problems, I make my own decisions, I take action on those decisions alone and I accept the results of those actions. I find it far easier to get angry at an injustice, or to face a fear as a challenge, or to extend kindness to a stranger. It is far harder to comprehend the wants and needs of a loved one; the emotions are too complex. It is harder too, to find yourself at the receiving end of kindness, to suddenly realise that someone finds you deserving of kindness and compassion. It is not that my self-esteem is so low, it is just t...

So I haven't posted in a while but not as long as I thought since I didn't think I posted anything at all this year. But I clearly did in March even if it was just to curse at my work conditions. Aaah, work.... who doesn't curse and moan and whinge about how shitty their work is or how much of monster their boss is or how they have got the nastiest bitch for a colleague? Yes and I did plenty of that on Facebook but as more colleagues and cousins and aunts get added on my friend list, venting on Facebook has become less attractive really fast. And no one wants to be that asshole who puts everybody off by spewing vitriol on their status updates every day. And so I turn to you o Blogpost, to once again give vent to my bitter, misanthropic feelings about the human race in general without the repercussions one gets from the hurt feelings of friends one hasn't spoken to in years. Updates soon.

Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Fucking shit. I'm sick of this fucking shit. If I wasn't such a stubborn bitch with a motherfucking ego, I'd have quit this stupid gig. Fuck.