Saturday, March 20, 2010

Oh, Weekends

My stay at my aunt's place for the past three weeks or maybe an entire month has reacquainted me with the basics of serene living surrounded by books and no internet. I thought it would drive me nuts. But it turned out to be a return to the once blissfully silent existence I had come to love. And as ironic as it seems, given my self-confessed addiction to facebook games, I realized I couldn't be happier.


I have found the heart to finally abandon all facebook games I play but one: Petville. Even if Bartinelli is just a virtual pet, I can't get myself to just leave her locked up behind bars forever(that's what happens to abandoned pets). Fashioning her after my real tomkitty Pao must explain why I am so attached to her. Or it could be that inexplicable mother instinct, which has fueled that secret yearning for my own child ever since, at work. either way, I have decided to just keep her. Even if she ends up being behind bars every week should I neglect to replace her virtual pet food(which I am apt to do given my busy schedule), at least I can say to myself that I still haven't abandoned her. During weekends, just like today, I would have her visit all her pal's homes and continue redecorating her cute and beautiful little home.


In all those weeks I've spent cooped up in the library(that's where me and my mom are now spending the weekdays actually) after coming home from work, I indulged myself by reading. I've already finished Lewis Carol's Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass(original versions courtesy of my uncle's and aunt's ancestral family library where I'm staying), Andrew Davidson's The Gargoyle, and John Harwood's The Seance.  right now, I'm poring over Mitch Albom's Tuesdays with Morrie.


Although I'm happy that I've rediscovered my love for books, I still can't help but regret that I still can't find time to paint and illustrate as I have been wanting to do. There just aren't enough hours in a day to allow me to do all the many wonderful activities so close to my heart. Yes, I enjoy my work, but it just takes up too much of my time that I'm left with barely enough to accommodate my love for reading, creative writing, and illustrating/painting.


Especially these days, my boss has been assigning too much coordinating task that each work day ends with my feeling overly stressed out and harried. Couple this with my usual writing tasks and my weekly commitments to my students before or after office hours, and I wouldn't be surprised to find out that I have already raked up enough heart disease credentials to warrant an impending heart attack any time soon.


I'm sorry if this blog had turned out to be a smorgasbord. I just hope that despite the dizzying variations of art works, poems, fictional works like my post Closing Time, and occasional ramblings about my ever-exciting life as a lonely , lovelorn, secretly depressed professional; you have been provided with a bit of valuable insight, information, or some entertainment perhaps into the workings of this quirky mind from the far east.


Oh, well...I have decided to create another blog site exclusively for my broken-hearted ramblings (As if I have more than enough time to manage all three blogsites as the one I have now lol!).Just in case you're interested, you may want to take a peek into my deplorable lamentations at Insensibilities of the Shattered Heart Chronicles. 


My only regret is that I may not be consistent in my blog posting, which is really nothing new considering how I am doing it now lol. anyways, so Lunatic Dancing would be exclusive to my poetry and artworks and ramblings about my intended story materials. No more would I post anything like love anecdotes hers as they would be intended for Insensibilities, which is an ironic title given the fact that everything there would delve on depressive love or love per se and the every day wisdom that comes from mundane relationship experiences whether hilarious or unusual. Later I might download the unfinished illustration of zulayka before I leave for my aunt's place with my mom. 

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