So, it's almost Christmas, again.

Seems like just recently I celebrated NYE 08 with my besties, and we ushered in 2009 in a nice, cozy homely manner close to our hearts.

In less than a week, Christmas will be here. In another week, 2010.

Where the hell did all that time in between go? Doesn't feel like a year, not at all.

Strangely, I don't feel the slightest festive cheer. Commercialised or not, I used to love it when Christmas came around. Decorating the Christmas tree, buying gifts, singing carols... These used to be fun.

This year, I can't even be bothered with dragging the teeny tiny pathetic excuse of a tree out of the store room. Granted, my dad threw away my beloved full-sized one, but tiny or not, a tree is still a tree, and a house feels empty without a Christmas tree on Christmas.

 Maybe this is what it feels like to get older.

1. Win the lottery / Inherit a crapload of money from some long, lost relative whom I never even knew was alive
2. Suddenly, miraculously recover from my leg / back injury and be able to wear sky high heels again

After perhaps a 2 and a half year hiatus, I finally picked up my guitar again. This time, I was determined to finally resolve the problem with the string action.

Okay a little background information first. About 2 to 3 years ago, the neck of my precious Ibanez warped and I freaked out. So I brought it back to the store, hoping the dude could fix it by adjusting the truss rod or something. Because there's no way in hell I'd ever trust my clumsy self to do it and risk permanently damaging my darling.

Fixed it he did, but he also left the string action so sky high that it was close to impossible to play anything on it without suffering. I kept putting off fixing it again because I didn't know how to and I didn't play it that much anymore.

In case you're wondering what string action is, it's the distance between the guitar fretboard and the string. Like so:

Women, and their emotions. They swing on a pendulum, obeying no laws of physics, based on nothing the human knowledge can offer. Like wild horses, no amount of training can possibly even hope to tame them.

Swinging from bliss, to blessed, to rock bottom can occur at such speed that it shocks and astounds any onlooker.

Or maybe it's just me.

He was wearing a shirt he hasn't worn in awhile. When I hugged him, I couldn't help but notice the faint lingering smell, barely noticeable over his cologne. 

Me: You smell like moth balls.
Him: Yeah. Well, you're not a moth, so don't complain.

I don't think there's a single comeback to that phrase that doesn't sound lame. He amuses, annoys and baffles me all at once, I really don't think there's any other creature like him on this earth.

It's been too long.

Or perhaps it's merely relative, my concept of time is slower than anyone else because I have extended periods of sheer nothingness. Painful, empty gaps of time spent waiting, hoping, trying to make it more bearable and less uncomfortable to endure.

Your mind numbs when time crawls and night is no different from day, when sleep defeats its purpose because it offers no rest, when the waking hours are just as torturous as lying in bed and trying to beat insomnia and physical pain.

There simply is nothing to look forward to - nothing at all. I feel myself starting to slip and slide into yet another depressing phase. 

Since when did I stop living and start waiting for life to happen?

I have this strange foreboding feeling that I just can't seem to shake.

Intuition, superstition, or just an overactive imagination? It's hard to tell. I guess I just have to wait and see.

As self-absorbed as it sounds, I hope I don't chance back on this blog post only to go "Ah ha! I told you so. I'm right - again".

I had a bad feeling - like a premonition, almost. And it always sucks when it comes true.

This is the reason for my absence from cyberspace: