3/31/2019 ‒
Perhaps never

Almost seven years ago I met Shalla for the first time.

"We met online" is the stock answer I give when people ask me about our origin story. It's really her chancing upon this blog and posting a heart on my apparently now non-existent chatboard. One thing led to another, and now, she's showing me this one stupid Piffle just bouncing around aimlessly.

I wonder if the same could have happened if everything happened today.

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3/29/2019 ‒
Signs

You really shouldn't be diagnosing yourself of anything, even if you're reading the most reputable of sources. Your vision is most definitely impaired on this one. In this case, though, I couldn't help it.

Chronic fatigue? I want to sleep a lot during weekends.

Insomnia? I think I'm beginning to have it. A couple of nights ago I woke up at one in the morning and failed to fall asleep since. I thought it's the coffee I had at the event I attended in Clark. But last night I got home at one in the morning - and slept half an hour later - and yet I woke up at half past five. And I can't fall asleep since.

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3/24/2019 ‒
Zap

Somewhere on my bedroom floor lie carcasses. Many carcasses. At least seven or eight carcasses. They're mosquitos.

There are a lot of mosquitos in my place lately. It's unusual, I'll say. I've never had to leave the house (to go to work, or somewhere else, early in the morning) and be greeted by a swarm of them buzzing about. For a while there was this mosquito in my room I couldn't kill for weeks, until we finally bought another one of those things that look like a tennis racquet but electrified, to kill those pesky things. Thus, those eight mosquitos on the floor at some point.

And we're not the only one. Every morning I'd hear, from our neighbors, the sound of those very electrified racquets. Pak. Pak. Pak. Pak pak pak. I should've gone for zap because that's what it really is, but pak sounds much more accurate. Also, they must have even more mosquitos than we do.

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3/18/2019 ‒
Slump

It's the 18th of the month, and I haven't written anything on here. Well, actually, I haven't written much I can truly be proud of these past few weeks. Perhaps this is what you'd call a "writer's block", but seeing that I am still writing something, it's better of referred to as a "writer's slump".

"Too busy" is too convenient an excuse, to be honest. I've been able to write while doing more than what I'm doing now. Perhaps it's because I know I am doing more than I used to which leads me to that conclusion, but then I quickly go, "well, it's not just that."

I was at a coffee shop last week, doing some work. I'd usually be people-watching, sort of, in between doing the work, or after doing the work, but it was soon clear I gave myself three hours because it took three hours. Granted, I was punching up a flyer and everything else that went with it - social media updates, website updates, you get the idea - and that takes a while because I tend to do everything before I pull the trigger at the designated time and everything goes live. But that can be tedious, so sometimes my mind flies, but this time it only flew towards the idea of me, alone, occupying a table for four.

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