Life.

It’s long lived, and living is a long and tumultuous journey of up and down roller coasters of coasting and seeing and experiencing.

Life.

* * *

Here I am.

My place.

My usual.

With half my usual. The tea of green, sucking it down, living it up, typing away in my lyrical nonsense that I think I might be getting back into. This is a time for celebration.

A time to celebrate life as I take a break from it. Living the slowed down pace that I am use to, the snail’s pace of just living just outside of life, of the happenings and going ons and ons.

Life.

I am here, in this Volcano typing away, in my usual usual groove.

Life.

It feels normal, it feels natural. It feels like the way that it should be.

Filled with drama, filled with the tumultuousness that makes life interesting; the stuff that movies are made of.

Love. Action. Drama. Comedy.

Welcome to my movie.

It’ll be a tired, slow paced, artsy-fartsy, independent style of nature with a mixed bag of everything.

It definitely won’t be for the masses, for it wasn’t catered to it. It’s catered to those who may have interest to just have a peek into what it is that I am about.

It is what it is.

There’s no apology for it. I’m not apologizing for it.

Not at all.

Just a senseless rambling ramblings.

Gone gone.

* * *

Ahhhh, to be able to type away freely in the comfort of this client.

This little chat client on the Windows side. Semagic.

OSX.

There isn’t really a great one, an easy one like this one, the one I am in love with.

Quoma or some other spelling that is similar.

Typing away typing away.

I just love the semi HTMLness of it. The ease of just typing without any shortcuts and just typing along with the semi-coding that I do.

Love love love.

* * *

Routine.

Life, at least for me, is a series of events tied together. These events are very routine. The usual of the usu…

But tis my life; tis is me; tis is it.

Coming here on the weekends, typing away, sometimes with distractions, other times not, just typing away.

It seems for the most part, my life is just a series of typing away. Typing away.

Type type type.

Putting thoughts into words, connecting the dots, trying to figure out what it is that I want to say or trying to find that elusive direction.

Am I lost again?

Am I at another quandary that I can’t find my way out of?

I don’t know.

Things seem different.

Things seem strained ever since the trip.

Things seem very quiet — always searching, like a hanging silence that shouldn’t be there, but it’s just a deafening silence.

Things are amiss.

I can try to figure it out, which I do in my background processess, but there are times where I just have to let things play out. Things will just have to play out and then I’ll come to a realization that things weren’t really much different at all, that things weren’t WRONG to begin with and it’s just my hypersensitivity of spider senses tingling into extra full force on-ness picking up things that isn’t there.

I think I just need an adjustment, a fine tuning, trying to find the right frequencies of proper working order.

I’m broken and need a fixing.

* * *

Mindless ramblings.

I know it is a senseless thing that I am doing here; this senselessness of typing words for the sake of typing words.

But I don’t know, it is just something that I need to do. It is just something that I have to do; to get whatever it is that is in me fighting to get out, out of my system.

OUT.

My thoughts. My brain. My mind.

It’s full and I need to purge purge purge everything. I need a clear mind. I need something so I can focus on other things, like work.

From the past post and this one, I may have found that -ness that I have been searching so long for in these blog entries of mine.

It’s back.

The sing song madness of mindlessness is back.

Chubby baby wiggling for joy in his mother’s arms.

Wiggling Wiggling away as I just sit here, as the two girls are silently waiting for their new clients and waiting for their orders.

Tea.

That’s what they serve. Their drug of choice and I’m a fiend, needing my fix. Needing this lost solace of mine, this emptiness of place, freedom from distraction, typing away, clearing my thoughts.

Clearing away.

Erasing. Formatting.

Looking out the window, as another distraction will come my way.

Small petite Asian.

Distraction indeed.

Sneaking a peek and worth the sneaking for the peek.

* * *

New found audiences.

Not knowing with this is all about.

Just reading along. Not use to the sing songs of yore, but more use to the direct interims of life and what the haps in my daily, weekly, monthly grindings of what I am.

Making no sense.

I’m sure not all of my future posts will be like the last couple and I’m sure that eventually things will get back to the forwardness that I am capable of, listing the things that are on my mind in a more direct way.

Eventually things will get there and I’m not in a rush to get there.

Let me enjoy this rambling. It’s been lost for a long time. I’m just soaking it in, enjoying it before it leaves these fingers for another hiatus.

I guess it is the jumbleness of what is in my mind, with the different subjects at hand, trying to figure stuff out and not knowing where to start or what it is that I am trying to find.

* * *

Answers.

I just need answers.

I have questions, and I just hate it when I can’t figure out the answers. It just frustrates me, so I just sit and think, coming up with solutions that never seem proper or just never work. Solutions come and then solutions go.

It just never happens that I get the right answer.

It’s always been a problem of mine, especially when it comes with people.

If I can’t figure them out, it just frustrates me more.

For the most part, I can read people well. My intuition just does what it does, tingling spider senses, telling me this and that with unbelievable accuracy.

But sometimes, it doesn’t work that way. Feelings get mixed in, emotions get mixed in and it just clouds these conclusions that I jump to, creating doubt, not knowing, frustration.

Ahhhh!

Frustration.

What is it?

I can never figure it out. Again, I will have my theories, but they are just theories until I have tested them and they then turn into law. Until then, they will just be theories or even hypothesises until time comes for them to be tested and then I will finally know the truth…or at least the truth to my questions.

Eventually, things like these won’t bother me anymore.

Eventually, I’ll just be able to let things go, not let them bother me at all. Eventually.

They just aren’t happening right now.

I would say about 80% of the time, I don’t care, but then there are others and I’m just like, fuck, shit, what the what, what the haps?

And those are the times that frustrate me.

* * *

Time is running out.

The ticking keeps ticking and soon, it’ll run to the time that I’m usually done, out of here, away from things, back into another routine of mine.

Soon.

Tying things up, finishing things up.

Soon, things will just be a bygone memory. Soon, things will be something, just something that I will eventually ignore, something that I will just let me.

Whatever will be, will be.

Soon.

* * *

What does it mean?

The flickering mind movies of mine.

I know it has a lot to do with being in the mind, taking up my thoughts, but overall what does it mean?

Maybe they are just wishful yearnings that manifest themselves in my mind’s eye.

Putting situations together to show how much she means to me, or how much I think of her.

Putting her in that pedestal, like most of the girls in John Green novels, but realizing when it is too late that she isn’t or will never live up to that image that we have of her, only seeing the side that we want to see, the side that makes our hearts go pitter patter, but not the full story, that may taint her image in our mind’s eye.

Maybe.

But isn’t that, shouldn’t that be something that we come to find out once we have the experience to get a chance to see more of her, see her in a different light?

Maybe.

Life.

It comes and it goes.

Life.

Time.

It ticks.

Tick.

Tock.