Inana

Dearest Reader, Birds are chirping outside. It is dawn already. It is a new day, and the last day of February on a leap year, on the year of the apocalypse, February 29th, 2012. Ha! Apparently, women are supposed to ask men out today? Or is this something that happens throughout the entire year? Also, apparently, Earth is supposed to go berserk and destroy us all. Anyway, who cares? It doesn't matter to me. If I wanted to ask someone out on a date, I am sure I would ask them, leap year or not. And, if we are going to all die, I am sure that there is little I can do about it. Ugh! The idea of an apocalypse is depressing, so moving on... I decided to sleep early, but all that did was make my sleeping patterns more unruly. I had woken up to visit the loo at around 02:37am and I never quite fell back to sleep. Then... an IM conversation on Whatsapp might have also contributed to my inability to fall asleep, so I am up. I don't even know who I was speaking to, that's how ...

random pic coz I can't be arsed finding pics Dearest Reader, I am in disbelief and in subtle annoyance that I should be up at this ungodly hour, 07:48am. I only fell asleep 4 hours ago or so. I am not subdued enough to sleep, but I am also not alert enough to be productive. That disposition of ambiguity is annoying. I am a decisive person, and grey areas are generally not my favorite. Therefore, to try to make use of this multi-dimensional state of mind, I decided that the only thing that I can do is write. So, here goes: To begin with, I have a low tolerance for gluten, but due to greed and obvious masochist behavior, I ate a lot of bread and pasta in these last 24 hours and now I have stomach cramps. Perfect! That's exactly what I need in my life right now as I am busy recording. Just perfect. Secondly, I had an awesome time at the studio last night. Preparation and taking one's work seriously, always reaps favourable results, and I am confident to report that ...

The Cellphone: one of the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse Dearest Reader, I've just finished my preparations for a studio (recording) session which will begin in 20 hrs' time. The song, if I have any say on it, since it is a collaboration, shall be called " How Dare You? " and it is about a booty call receiver who has become too big for their boots; a booty call who has forgotten their position in the lover hierarchy by forgetting that booty calls are after all, disposable. Before we go any further, even though I am sure we all know what a booty call is, let us see its definition: A Booty call is defined as follows by the  Urban Dictionary : "A late night summons -- often made via telephone -- to arrange clandestine sexual liaisons on an ad hoc basis." I couldn't have said it better myself. The operative words are " summons " and " ad hoc ". In the song I wrote about one or two particular dynamics of such a  tryst , the f...

HSPs prefer solitude than crowds mostly Dearest Reader, Know Thyself. I repeat... Know Thyself. If you are ignorant of the self, the good and the bad, you shall complicate your life unnecessarily. Therefore, reflect! The more you reflect, the easier life becomes. Due to introspection, questioning and investigation into WHO I AM, and into what makes me tick, I discovered some years ago that I was an  HSP (Highly Sensitive Person)  and this is part of why I am a loner weirdo with too much self-awareness. Below are some of the characteristics of HSPs: You are very creative.  You are very conscientious, hard working, and meticulous, but may become uncomfortable and less efficient or productive when being watched or scrutinized.  You may experience mood swings, sometimes occurring almost instantly and can also be affected by other people's moods, emotions and problems. You have a deep, rich, inner life, are very spiritual, and may also have v...

Dearest Reader, The Thinker I had written a few paragraphs of a reflective blog about how I have lost my edge and have become a softy who gets easily hurt, and so on, but I decided that it was too much of a pity-party of a piece and so I deleted it. On that piece, I was running from the truth, really. I wasn't expressing what I was really feeling. I was intellectualizing my emotions, and thus I was being dishonest, and I pride myself for my honesty, so it had to go. So, I will write about the truth. Humans are lied to more than enough without me adding to the bullshit, so here goes... The truth is hard to accept without posting it on the internet, which I am about to do. I am reluctant to do so, but what am I afraid of? Am I afraid of being "wrong"? Surely, not. Am I afraid of seeming weak? Maybe... I am reluctant to share what I am feeling and I wonder why? Maybe it is because of the stalker bitches who shall rejoice about my unhappiness if I do post this?...