I’m - yeah - back.
As much as I want to say that the reason behind the long absence is a trip around the globe, that isn’t the apparent case. I have been in the country all along. People like Les (xlesx) and Monyeen (asherah_07) have wondered and asked why I haven’t been updating/writing, and all I could ever reply was that because I have started writing on an offline journal again. And I added, because of this, it seems that writing on this journal has already become somewhat pointless. Not to mention repetitive.
Of course, there are times when I encounter something worth writing and sharing with personal or online friends. But when I get home and begin to write the experience, I am always attracted to write it first on the offline journal until the eagerness to write it on LJ slips off of my mind.
And besides, who would find an Average Joe’s life exciting? Like, the other month, for example: how my dad almost caught me smoking pot. He was still apparently awake in his room while I was finishing a joint. I owe the Egyptians/Chinese/Jews for making incenses. It certainly saved my ass.
Or, how I’m trying to quit smoking because I figured, if only I saved the money I spent on packs of cigarette, according to the calculator, I’d probably be filthy rich by now. And yeah, my throat hurts already, too.
Or, how I’m trying not to drink anymore even if people don’t believe me.
Or, how a fortune teller correctly pointed out how pessimistic and exasperatingly demanding I am, and how she knew how I always self-hate. She saw nothing when I spaced out. Her heart raced when my heart did, too. When I relaxed, she was relieved and her eyes glimmered with satisfaction. That moment, it felt weird being in an astral connection.
Or, how my annoying teacher saw the cuts on my wrist one time, and tried to nosily meddle with my life, pretending we were friends.
Or, how I nearly became an animist and almost worshipped the moon, the sun, the stars, the skies, the seas, the rocks, and everything surrounding me.
Or, how my niece is becoming more and more of a camwhore. How she always asks me to take her pictures. She’ll make pa-cute when the camera’s aimed at her. When I ask her to pose, she’d pretend to be emo.
Or, how she gets novels out of the shelf and pretends to read even if the book is turned upside down. For an uncle who makes sure his niece reads, and hoping someday she’ll eloquently write, she sure knows how to make me proud.
Or, how she mixes colors and paint using water color. She drew me a portrait that was composed of a blue circle, with black and red streaks one time. Despite the distortion of the face, I saw a strange resemblance.
Or, how she shares her dreams with me. If I ask her what she wants to become someday, she says she wants to become a teacher. Sometimes, a doctor. If I ask her if she wants to become a writer, or an artist, she’d just smile. But I don’t really care what she’ll become. I just want her to know what happiness means, and own it in time.
It does seem that I have an average life. Despite this averageness, I don’t complain. It’s just a state of mind, after all.
Of course, there are times when I encounter something worth writing and sharing with personal or online friends. But when I get home and begin to write the experience, I am always attracted to write it first on the offline journal until the eagerness to write it on LJ slips off of my mind.
And besides, who would find an Average Joe’s life exciting? Like, the other month, for example: how my dad almost caught me smoking pot. He was still apparently awake in his room while I was finishing a joint. I owe the Egyptians/Chinese/Jews for making incenses. It certainly saved my ass.
Or, how I’m trying to quit smoking because I figured, if only I saved the money I spent on packs of cigarette, according to the calculator, I’d probably be filthy rich by now. And yeah, my throat hurts already, too.
Or, how I’m trying not to drink anymore even if people don’t believe me.
Or, how a fortune teller correctly pointed out how pessimistic and exasperatingly demanding I am, and how she knew how I always self-hate. She saw nothing when I spaced out. Her heart raced when my heart did, too. When I relaxed, she was relieved and her eyes glimmered with satisfaction. That moment, it felt weird being in an astral connection.
Or, how my annoying teacher saw the cuts on my wrist one time, and tried to nosily meddle with my life, pretending we were friends.
Or, how I nearly became an animist and almost worshipped the moon, the sun, the stars, the skies, the seas, the rocks, and everything surrounding me.
Or, how my niece is becoming more and more of a camwhore. How she always asks me to take her pictures. She’ll make pa-cute when the camera’s aimed at her. When I ask her to pose, she’d pretend to be emo.
Or, how she gets novels out of the shelf and pretends to read even if the book is turned upside down. For an uncle who makes sure his niece reads, and hoping someday she’ll eloquently write, she sure knows how to make me proud.
Or, how she mixes colors and paint using water color. She drew me a portrait that was composed of a blue circle, with black and red streaks one time. Despite the distortion of the face, I saw a strange resemblance.
Or, how she shares her dreams with me. If I ask her what she wants to become someday, she says she wants to become a teacher. Sometimes, a doctor. If I ask her if she wants to become a writer, or an artist, she’d just smile. But I don’t really care what she’ll become. I just want her to know what happiness means, and own it in time.
It does seem that I have an average life. Despite this averageness, I don’t complain. It’s just a state of mind, after all.