Being Sheepish............

Looks like this year's forecast for those born in the year of the Sheep is rather dismal. I don't want to acknowledge it but I wonder if it did start all wrong for everybody (me, included). Of course, the economic crisis is no itsy-bitsy rain cloud but had become an ominous thunderhead over the world.

I know I wasn't a good girl all year last year and I'm not really good being a girl. I think like a boy and if I were a boy, I'd probably have two little boys of my own by now. By profession, I am a teacher. But to the world, I guess I'm still in third grade or something.

Babe in the woods, as the old people would say. Not worth watching out for except for the occasional get-out-of-the-way yells. I guess I'm not much of a people person. Headbutting is not a sport but a part of a routine. Lately though, I'm laying low and keeping to myself. I daren't crack jokes (I don't think I was ever gifted with a sense of humor, just a severe case of blahs.)

But it doesn't mean I can't do anything besides chewing. I'm just being sheepish....

Sundays Are Supposed To Be Sunny

When the fire of friendship eventually dies down to pitiful embers, where does one get the necessary kindling to feed its forlorn gasps? Who should you blame for its unnatural descent to the demise of indifference? Time, fate, circumstance, distance, growing up........ We all have different reasons, different names for that unnatural cause to a perennial, bittersweet chapter of our existence in this world.I may not always need my friends as they might not always need me. Nevertheless, I will love them in ways more than they can love me. But this day's pall had stripped them of the unschooled allure, showing them in their somewhat bizarre but wonderful individuality that endeared them to me more.Maybe those years of my absence from their company and my stubborn need to give my inner self some breathing room had indeed taken its toll. I know the words I'm looking for are neither personal growth nor moving on (whatever that means). Whatever it is, if the powers that be see it fit that I only savor its essence but not its name, so be it. Less words, less trouble, so they say. For it is that piece of me that relishes that form of peace this universe manages to give out scraps of.To feel and detached and cherished by your peers at the same time, is this what humanity feels or I'm just running low on caffeine? Maybe I'm just ranting and whining about bad hair day or I just hate it when it rains on a Sunday.

Thought May Be Private But.....

Perhaps there are some things one needs to hide and these secrets are the ones that actually set your person apart from the rest of the world. Like an exotic scent that attracts and repels at the same time. Why can't people read the signs and keep out of other people's minds for a change? Where can we send these mind readers for a well-meaning exile?I really miss the days where I can stand the roar of silence and revel in my solitude. Have I changed that much? Or is this just whining about people I want to avoid but just can't. I really wish I believed in vampires so that I can give reason to their existence.
From what I have read, vampires don’t have to bloodsuckers. They can be everyday people who just drain the life out of people just by simply breathing next to them. Okay. Now that’s extremely farfetched. But it can happen. What about the so-called psychic vampires?What are psychic vampires anyway? Can they also be mind readers? Or this mind reader is just a nosy person who discovered he had the gift of actually tapping into someone's mental stronghold? Heavens help us, heaven help me. His words shouldn't have stung but spacing out in his presence sounded like an abomination in his presence. I wasn’t really spacing out. Just losing myself in a book seemed a far more attractive option than acknowledging his existence. Besides, I think you only go to dreamworld in your sleep.I wonder if I lost that what used to set me apart. Or is he just leading me down a path of confusion making me think that I did lose it? What was he seeking? What purpose drives his words? I forgot the name but I know there was such a flower which is both beautiful and evil at the same time. Was it really a flower or a beast? But then again, gifts are meant to be used and the path to choose is one's prerogative.