The world through the eyes of pixlr-o-matic

Talking doesn't feel natural, and writing may have alleviating effects, but for the most part devouring old books wins again in the field of finding something to do with yourself while the better, microscopic part of your head makes everything all right (or manageable, at least). I finished re-reading David Sedaris' Naked yesterday, and since the only other Sedaris in my possesion is Me Talk Pretty One Day, an already very battered book, I had to find something else. I couldn't face another Zafra without reciting the lines by heart even before opening the book, and Robert Fulghum feels too preachy for my current taste.

I looked at my shelf, teeming with science textbooks more than anything else. In between the bunch of my genetics notes and a thin Don Delillo book I have yet to appreciate is my unread copy of New Moon (a friend's gift). I have read the entire Twilight saga on pirated e-book copies back in college, curiosity getting the better of me after all of my girl friends fell in love with the now infamous Edward Cullen. I cringe whenever Star Movies airs Twilight or New Moon, and was all the more disgusted when I had to explain the story of Eclipse to my mom who followed the series on cable TV. Not that it is so bad, but after a few years of mind-altering life experiences and bouts with alcohol intoxication, a story about a girl whose world revolves around a boy who happens to be a vampire suddenly becomes cheesy. Despite being a confessed reading geek, I still find it hard to associate myself with the teenage phenomenon. The nonconformist in me agrees.

But it was either New Moon or another 18-hour Sims Social session over on facebook, and since I think my genes are close to mutating from all the radiation I have been absorbing the past four months, I surrendered in bed with the book while simultaneously watching Dragon Ball Z with Emman. I think Majinboo is God's way of saying evil can be cute too.

I love the weather. It has been mildly raining endlessly, and obviously I don't mind because I have unlimited access to a blanket and a great cup of coffee. And a warm bath.

One thing's for sure though, despite the very attractive chance of sleeping for a straight 24 hours, I have to trade the sedentary lifestyle with something productive.

There goes the fear again.