Unfeeling

I've become somewhat of a bitch in a span of three days. Sort of like a female tazmanian devil creating havoc along the way ... only silent and inflicts a much deeper gash on person. Good God! I might be one! (loud laugh echoing amongst walls of empty castle! Good accoustics!) What is worse, I seem separated from it - like unremorseful serial killer (insert Psycho theme here).

No. Not really. But I've been breaking hearts lately and have become somewhat of a hermit. I'm content with staying in the house, with computer, TV and the clutter in my room. My responses has become automatic and rehearsed. People ask me if there's something wrong. And the truthful response to that is "I don't know. And I don't care." Sort of like mad drunk who has not recovered reality and wonders why ground is moving to his face. "Oh, look! It moves! Fas-si-na-ting." BLAGAG!

It's either PMS or deep depression. To which I still don't care. Maybe I should rename this blog Of Life and Chili. Only I don't eat chili. Maybe Of LIfe and Broccolli. Only I never attempted to taste broccolli.

I need to bring my camera and my notebook. Will try to get inspired with this nothingness ... or maybe drown myself in - this unfeeling. Love, pain, or joy eludes me. And it seems much worst than feeling pain. But still I don't care. Who was that Filipino writer who drinks again? What was his name? Lopez Jaena, was it? Maybe I need to discover my poison? What if this IS my poison?

Tee-hee-hee. Man-troubles. And I'm babbling. Maybe time with girlfriends will do me good. Tonight, I'm off to see the wizard and her court. Together we will dance around the fire and make howling noises that wake the neighborhood and scare little children away. Thank God for women-friends! Need reprieve from man-troubles.