A Respite

A day off the rat race. The rain on my roof is slowly ebbing to a stop. Some rap music plays on my stereo. I have Facebook, Strawberry and Fishpond on simultaneous windows - a typical day off spent. The mess around me occupies a tiny part of my mind. The good thing is I don't feel like lying down and sleeping. Life is too short to be spent sleeping. Another good thing is I remember being conscious about my dreams last night. I mean I remember a lot of them - like telling Peter Devantier about my grandfather. Peter is back as butler from Guest Relations Manager. An ironic twist of fate but I think he prefers that to the politics up there. I remember seeing Melaine as well in my dream - my mom's once-empty garden with a gaping hole on one side, suddenly had a whole body of water moving from the other side and filling it up. A bit weird, don't know how that happened. Remember living in a house that is half my house back home and half my Auckland abode. Remembering my dreams is a good sign.

I don't really know what a blog's purpose is, I am thinking it's my kind of journal, written in uniform fonts instead of my usual curly and curvy handwriting. And of course, it's for people to see. I would have preferred my journal to be somewhere private but with my vagabonding lifestyle, it's always difficult to keep them somewhere safe. Keeping them in my hard drive or in a flash drive is not too safe either. Putting them online is the safest place and the most accessible at the same time but it's too public, prevents me from saying all my thoughts.

Today is a good day. Simply because I feel good about life. I was not too lazy to cook for my kids despite the pouring rain outside and the low temperature. I can always find my excuses but I never should. Getting my locks chopped was a good start to taking control of my life, though.

Today is a good day. God loves me. That's all that matters.