Sunday, June 1, 2008

details in the fabric

A few too many drinks, a few too many inappropriate chicken dance moves, a few too many burger jokes, and a few too many beads of perspiration threading on my forehead as if I'm running on a treadmill, greets my morning with an undying thirst and an aching head. My only consolation was the McGriddles that I so often describe as "heaven in a burger" lying on my chair, waiting to be ravaged by this savage. Come forth o' creature that so defies civilization.

My room resembles the aftermath of a typhoon with unmentionables, bottles, bags, belts, clothes and toys all over the floor. Despite the shambles, there really is no other place I'd call home.

I have a love-hate relationship with Sundays. While I feel privileged to have Sundays to unwind and replenish, it sometimes feels like an unnerving pause, a blank space that you don't know what to do with. When time and tide turns and you're given a pause for thought, your mind wanders, your heart disfigures and you start questioning adequacies and etc.

I'm already feeling the Monday blues and dreading the thought of dragging my feet to work when morning comes. Come morning, comes mourning.

Away with that thought and on to the less dimmer bulbs. My current playlist features Jason Mraz's new album for some easy listening. It's definitely worth a listen and it comes highly recommended. I have "A Beautiful Mess" on rewind. It reminds me that in the bigger picture of this beautiful mess, everything figures.

Well, sky's the limit.
P.S. Remind me not to reach for the sky when the ceiling is already too high for me.

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