nth level boredom

If it wasn't for breakfast, I would have slept half of the day away. This has been my drama for two consecutive weekends already. I've been getting more sleep than usual. Sounds good, right? But more sleep also means all-day sluggishness for me. I don't know why. It's like my body is programmed to function properly with more or less five hours of sleep and in excess of that will cause Zen-malfunction. I am Zen, just so you didn't quite get that.

I. am. bored. I don't know what I wouldn't do (if there is) to exchange this bed for movie seats. I could just imagine slouching on the seat, feeling the AC, watching movie trailers, waiting for lights to go out, and eating nachos and sipping mango shake, atlernately. As much as I can just end this misery and go watch a movie alone like I used to do, I can't. I mean, I don't like TO-WATCH-ALONE. So I'm choosing to sulk in the four corners of my tiny room and read about Paul Walker. May he rest in peace and enjoy a free parking at Heaven's gate.

Chasing urge.

Like the other times, I, again, suddenly felt the urge to blog. You know that familiar feeling that you just want to write about whatever. So I opened my laptop right away like I was afraid this "urge" will just pass by and leave me disinterested again. Yes, again. It happened a lot of times. It's either this or writer's block. I always end up with nothing. I'm glad that this time was different. I actually missed this. I missed writing and just pouring whatever there is to pour.

I haven't read any book for months now.
I no longer dance.
I do not even browse YouTube anymore.
I stopped blogging.
I stopped writing notes/letters.
I stopped collecting Zebra-printed things.
I'm not as excited as I used to be anymore about Purple stuff.
I no longer collect iPhone cases.


You lose something everytime you change. And this time, I lost a lot.
I lost myself.

Have you seen it?