There are four posts sitting as drafts in my dashboard. I can’t seem to finish anything here. Nope, it’s not a writer’s block. It’s just that I am doing so many things at the same time that sometimes this huge lump of flesh that I call my body cannot keep up. Run, fingers, run! While I can still catch up with my train of thoughts. Jeez. I give up. I’ll get back to writing when I can get back to it. Grrrrh. You know that feeling when you want to say something only to forget about it when you’re about to say it and regardless of how hard you try you just can’t remember it? Well, that’s what happened to my drafts. Have you ever wanted to say something so badly only to stop and ask yourself what your point really is? I’m my worst critic. I mean, I don’t care much about how my blog looks or how my entries look or whether I used the right word or tense or punctuation or whether I should put diacritical marks where needed when it comes to my blog. I do drool at some of the nicest and coolest blogs around in terms of content, honesty and design but I am not writing to prove anything but to try to have an outlet of sorts and to try to resurrect whatever creative energy left I have in my fingertips. But regardless of how many times we say we don’t care, most of the time, we do. And regardless of how many times we say we care, we don’t. Whoever said I’m not complicated? Tsk. Now, let’s see. What have I been doing that has triggered this psychotic episode? Tsk. Hmm… let’s see. I’m ghostwriting a memoir of a now successful and now American medical practitioner who used to be one of those boat people from Nam. I’m also writing a dark, dark, gothic fantasy that would have been Stanley Kubrick’s wet dream of a movie. My client’s concept kicks ass and I mean it really kicks ass! I tried to look around for something similar online and offline but I can’t seem to find any. Man! And he’s younger than I am. God, I hope he’ll sow the seeds of his loins into me so I can have dark, dark, gothic kids who can think like their father! Jesus, what am I thinking! And I have to sell those diecast action figures by thousands so I can get moolah before the Christmas rush begins. I want to buy my mom something really nice. And well, Papa never really cares for anything much anymore but his mango-flavored ice cream. Now that explains why our electric bill is soaring higher than ever. We’ve never run out of ice cream so we never get to turn off the friggin’ ref! And my mom tells me it’s my aircon and not-super used but always turned on (hell, I hate that phrase!) desktop PC in the den! Hmph! Oh well. I love my mom and my dad whose speech handicap due to his stroke has never stopped him from making fun of people and of throwing profanities in the air. Hehe. And you should see our houseboy’s latest ‘do! I mean, that Jimmy Neutron kid should be butchered for setting the trend for THAT hair. But then again, it’s soooooooo last three years! I always say he should be arrested for illegal possession of deadly hair. And my mom gets into some litany of this and that everytime he applies gel on his hair. Hehehe. I told her that she shouldn’t bash him so much, after all, what won’t hurt her won’t kill her. Wrong move. Just gave her the opening that she needed to counter punch. The strong scent of the gel hurts her nostrils and his hair could accidentally stab her to death should they accidentally bump into each other around the house! God! My mom’s tongue isn’t really the sharpest but when she gets into it, she really digs in. LOL. So, now, I don’t really care if I’m making any sense at all. I remember the height of Chico and Delamar’s fame when they were still in RX93.1 when Chico had this segment where he would talk about things that aren’t connected to one another but by the words in them. I forget what it was called. Oh well. Guess I should get some sleep. I’ll practice judo tomorrow. I just might be able to use it someday. I wonder if I can do verbal judo instead. Hay life. Goodnight world.