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Monday evening, some good friends called as I was driving home and invited me out.
They are indeed good friends... why did I declined their invitation, again?
Ah yes, I was tired. Well, that did not stop you before?
You’re absolutely right… but that night, it felt different… I felt different.
I wanted to accept… by god, how I needed a drink or two that very moment… but I just went straight home. I cleaned myself up and went to bed. I was suppose to do some work, but didn’t. I just went to bed. Closed my eyes… trying not to think, not to hear, not to feel. In no time, it has worked.
The next day, I did not go to work. Why… I don’t know. The Directress called asking why I was not in school.
As the day ended, the Directress came home, went to my room and asked if I went out for the day. I replied, no. She looked at me and said, “You looked tired?”
In my mind, Ah, do I? Hmm, you’re absolutely right! I am indeed tired… in fact, it’s killing me. The whole day, I was contemplating in accomplishing my great desire. But of course, I could not bring myself into doing it… not because I was afraid, but more because of the ugly and wrong connotations that would arise from doing such deed.
A friend said she dreamt of me... and in her dream I finally got my wish.
I am sad… how can I get any clearer than that.
I wish I would finally receive my wish soon.

Its Not As Easy

A few months after creating this blog, I am only on my third posting.
It is not as easy to write after all. Hmm? Well, at least I'm trying it out.
It's morning once again and Mr. Sandman has not arrive yet. Come to think of it, he's been coming late for a year now. On a few occassions, a good friend would surprise me:
"Still up?"
"Ah, yah?"
"Thought it was you..."
"Oh, sorry for that..."
And on some remote instances....
"Still up?"
............................
For those instances, I am greatful that Mr. Sandman arrived earlier than expected... he sprinkled me with his magic dust and for that moment, i was free.
I wish, I could be free more often. Unfortunately, that is not the case....
As much as I am grateful that I am able to think... it's quite exhausting. Thinking without being able to express it... is strenuous.
And breathing... is killing me.
An idle mind, as they say, is the devil's playground. And yet I feel that an active one is actually a killing field.
Now, which would I rather have?