Nullsphere

HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet,
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams

W.B. Yeats

Every time I lay a word on paper -or in electrons - I am laying down another little piece of my dreams, those realities that are yet to exist and may still vanish into the morning air. It’s getting more and more difficult to put words on the small realities that are threaded into the fabric of my dreams.

Maybe one day, I’ll feel less excited about being published. But that day is not today.

One of my articles came out in an online magazine and I’m thrilled to bits… I’m sorry for the lack of posting or pictures but what with the new writing gigs and work, I hardly have time sleep, let alone blog about my life. Not to mention that nothing really exciting is happening.

Welcome to 2009! Happy New Year, everyone! May happiness and success be with you.

For the first time in ages, I’ve had a good clothing news: I fit in my “skinny” jeans. Admittedly, they used to be my “fat” jeans from when I was thinner but for now, they’re my skinny jeans. This morning, as I was rushing to get ready on time, I slipped into them and closed them with no effort. For low-rises, they stayed on and didn’t slip one bit (except getting into the Volvo, but the Volvo’s really low).

And my “fattest” jeans have been relegated to weekend duty for good!

As I am incapable of owning up to a little truth about myself that almost all my friends know about, here’s my 12-step recovery program to prevent falling into the same old patterns again.

1. I admit that I am powerless over my own heart and it’s unmanageable.
2. I believe that putting 3000+ kilometers between me and my problem can restore my sanity.
3. I am going to exert my will and stop trying to analyse or understand The Situation.
4. I am making a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself. The results aren’t pretty, nor are they encouraging.
5. I admit to the world (thank god for blogs) that I am what’s wrong with my life. I know it, you know it. Move along.
6. I am entirely ready for God (aka a plastic surgeon) to remove all these defects. Except I don’t think anything can be done about my brain.
7. I humbly ask the world to leave my shortcomings alone. And my shortbread too.
8. There is not enough paper in this world for me to make a list of the people I have wronged and make amends. I’m not gonna live that long.
9. I will try to be less of a jerk and/or burden to my friends by whining constantly about my life. I have a reasonable time and been given a lot of breaks over the years.
10. I admit I was wrong to believe in Happily Ever After. It’s a fairy tale. As a scientific, I shouldn’t be so gullible.
11. Sleep will serve as meditation. More sleep = good. Works for cats.
12. Alleluia! I am cured. Now, can I fix your life for you?

Once I reach step 11, I’ll stop because Step 12 sounds moronoic. Agreed?