Symptoms of Cretinism

It been quite a long time since I was last gripped by WOT fever, but today I find myself jittery and excited over the paperback edition of Book 11, The Knife of Dreams, that's scheduled to come out this October. Its almost 5 months away and I'm excited already. They say somebody's going to lose a hand and somebody's coming back from the dead. Yes, I know I could have just downloaded an e-book, but I'm a purist. There's nothing like holding a good thick book in your hands and feeling your heart beat faster every time you turn a page. Of course, it helps that Orbit is publishing the paperback edition - I don't have to worry about TOR's crappy binding, though I'd still buy it if it were a TOR book. ------------------- Here are a few of my favorite quotes from the series: "Death is lighter than a feather, duty heavier than a mountain." - Borderland saying "Sa souv'raya niende misain ye" (I am lost in my own mind) - Mat Cauthon ...

Its past ten, and I'm still at the office. I've managed to hijack someone else's PC - my uber slow one quits on me when the office bell rings at 6:45. ----------------------- Now, my next problem is thinking of what to put down next - I've been writing in Tagalog for the past week, and I can't seem to think up a good English sentence like I used to. ----------------------- A nice and famous writer was nice enough to ask me to submit a story for an anthology he's coming up with sometime at the end of the year. Of course, I have to come up with an appropriate story first, submit it, then hope to God that's its good enough to get published. That my job requires me to write in Tagalog (which, by the way, I never really wasn't good at) and subsequently, think in Tagalog doesn't help at all. Nevertheless, the invitation has inspired me enough to start racking by Tagalog-infested brain for something I could possibly write about. T hank you, o great and...

I am really, really frustrated. I miss out on workshops, don't know squat about calls for submission of stories (the chances of my stuff actually getting published is another issue altogether), and I can't find the time to write. I go home tired and sleepy, and the last thing my brain needs is for me to kick it somemore after a whole day's work. I told a friend a few months back that excepting those who're really good (and I obviously am not 'really good'), the only people who can afford to write are rich people. While they lie around and stare at the sky and jot down ideas and lines all day, the rest of us are busy trying to make a living. Life is so bloody unfair. $%§!*#^£*()&!!!

What is it with me and small talk? 99 percent of the people I know or have met seem to enjoy it, and I can't even pretend to be interested. Yes, I know, I'm weird and just more than a tad anti-social, but does that mean that it's not normal to even have a remotely intelligent conversation with someone? Does that mean that normal, regular conversation will always consist of how much you like having your picture taken in your spiffy little mobile phone or some remote mundane incident involving someone you know but I don't? Of course, I also do realize that I'm being really subjective here - who am I to say that small talk isn't intelligent conversation? I mean, maybe I'm just trying to get people to think the way I think and have conversations the way I want them to. I think I should lighten up. But I can't. Well, I guess that means I just have to endure more idle chit chat and try to work on at least displaying a semblance of interest on the topic at ...

I don't know why, but re-listening to a bunch of anime songs I thought to store away some years back has made me feel all mushy and melodramatic all of a sudden. And I don't even understand a word I hear. I just move my head to a beat and I suddenly feel the urge to cry; not that I actually burst out into tears - now that would be really pathetic, not to mention really weird. ---------------- Many thanks to Peachy , who I don't really know, but was peachy enough to let me copy the lyrics from a (her) Ben Folds Five song. Gone Ben Folds Five I thought I'd write, I thought I'd let you know. In the year since you've been gone, I've finally let you go. And I hope you find some time to drop a note, But if you won't, then you won't. And I will consider you gone. I know that you went straight to someone else, While I worked through all this shit here by myself. And I think that you should spend some time alone, But if you won't, then you won't. And ...

Finally, after ages of waiting, we now have an internet conncetion at home. It's dial-up though, so that means I have to endure surfing through the net at a pathetic and measly 44kbps. So as early as now I say goodbye to all the MMORPG's I could be playing, not to mention playing DOTA online. Sigh. On the more "positive" side, I have a job again. It doesn't pay much, but it's work. I've grown tired of the frowns my father likes to sport whenever I announce that I've turned down another job offer - for legitimate reasons (at least for me). It's just bad timing that I'm currently suffering from a serious case of laziness. Last night, I went to bed at around 9pm - which is really early, since I usually sleep at around 12am onwards - and I just woke up. More than 12 hours of sleep and I'm still sleepy. (yawns) Anyway, after I drag myself to the dirty kitchen and help my mom with the laundry (because I am such a nice boy) I might get to watching...

by Pablo Neruda It so happens that I am tired of being a man. It so happens that I go into the tailor shops and the movies all shriveled up, impenetrable, like a felt swan navigating on a water of origin and ash. The smell of barber shops makes me cry out loud. I only want a rest of stones or of wool, I only want to see no more buildings or gardens, or merchandise, or eyeglasses, or elevators. It so happens that I am tired of my feet and my nails and my hair and my shadow. It so happens that I am tired of being a man. Still it would be delicious to scare a notary public with a cut lily or kill a nun with a blow to the head. It would be nice to roam the streets with a green knife screaming until I freeze to death. I do not want to go on being a root in the dark, hesitating, stretched out, shivering in my sleep, deep down, in the wet gut of the earth, soaking and thinking, eating every day. I don't want so many misfortunes. I don't want to keep on being a root and a tomb, dying o...

You Are 64% Open Minded You are a very open minded person, but you're also well grounded. Tolerant and flexible, you appreciate most lifestyles and viewpoints. But you also know where you stand firm, and you can draw that line. You're open to considering every possibility - but in the end, you stand true to yourself. How Open Minded Are You? You Are 30% Evil A bit of evil lurks in your heart, but you hide it well. In some ways, you are the most dangerous kind of evil. How Evil Are You? Just 30 percent? I'm disappointed. You Are an Emo Rocker! Expressive and deep, lyrics are really your thing. That doesn't mean you don't rock out... You just rock out with meaning. For you, rock is more about connecting than grandstanding. What Kind of Rocker Are You?

Its 7:35 in the morning - much, much earlier than I'm used to be awake - and my tummy hurts. I'm eating a cold chicken fillet burger from KFC, and I'm hoping I don't spew out its gastric juiced version later. Oww... there it goes again...

Despite the fact that I have to rush to this Job Fair - the one that'll shut its doors in about an hour - I find myself posessed by the urge to write something. Anything. Something witty, something smart, something original. That being said, uh... that being said. Damn writer's block.