What i love about Sundays is..

the complete, utter lack of the need to do something.. Sunny, quiet skies with the occasional sound of giant metal birds slicing through the air make for a perfect day of being a lazy bum. If only it weren't so damn hot it'd be paradise.

It used to be so easy. It was easy to just tap out the letters, see them form into words--into meaningful sentences.

It seems as if age has its way of putting us in a silent resignation. Like the words on the pages of an old book seem to wither and disappear with each falling grain of time. I still wonder when or where it started to manifest, this difficulty to write what i mean and mean what i write. Did it leave me that night? those nights? is there any way to bring it back again?

Well this is kinda sad.

old blogs i used to faithfully follow a few years before have disappeared, or avast! won't let me visit them. pfft.

it's like a depressing trend, kids who used to write with such eloquence and passion that you'd think they'd be making novels given a few years suddenly vanish into thin wispy smoke of work or play or lack of words thereof. maybe we are getting old. maybe this is what maturity does to people, it makes it difficult to talk about anything and everything.

i refuse to be an example, at least not without fighting. so i'm back from a long hiatus.

but i'm doing baby steps first. baby steps.

I will be trying to write again. take note: try.

it's easier said than written.

In the hopes of winning that Neil Gaiman book from Avalon.ph [oh please oh please pick me!]:

Ten years ago i was everything: i was bold, i was reckless, i was strong, i ruled the world--i ruled MY world, i was happy with anything, and got hurt about nothing but getting my ankles bruised, or my candies being stolen away from me (or from cavities), or from losing a game. i was curious, i wasn't skeptical or pessimistic--i never knew what it meant back then, i believed, and boy, did i believe in everything and anything. life was an adventure: from waking up in the morning, from discovering what i'll have for breakfast, for lunch, for dinner or the mid meal snacks, adventure was running around and imagining i was a cop, a robber, or a pirate, or a scientist. Adventure was going to a place i've never been to--be it a park, a mall or just a house--even an empty lot. Ten years ago, i was a kid. and most of the kids in us died because we refused to save them.

[for those who want to try their luck i can't be selfish so here: http://blog.avalon.ph/2009/08/win-a-signed-copy-of-adventures-in-the-dream-trade-by-neil-gaiman/#respond]