A good 3months of my disappearance from this space does make the hearts grow fonder, don’t you?

Many a times, I tried penning some words, and each time, I found myself backspacing till it returns to the same old blank page. Perhaps that’s how it is depicting my life so far, frozen at its same old zone.

Not that procrastination has eaten my self up. It’s just that life at its reverse gear is definitely a slippery downhill, once it slides; it’s onerous to be up its prime again.
Or maybe, I need to hit the new low to get myself bounce all the way up again. I can be that masochist.

Turning the clock back, I would gladly sum my past 100days, a disastrous drama.

Well, it might occur to most that I have been leading high glorious flamboyant days judging from my gazillion party’s pictures on the tool of all evils, facebook. Yes, with big bang parties and holy water, brings ultimate fun and no doubts, the cool floating sensation. But hell, trust me; reality slaps you straight on the face once sobriety hits you. The amount of ridicule I performed could easily earn me an Oscar nominee. Serious.

Besides all the preposterous acts that come from the undue influence of intoxication, I put on a compelling stage play in work previously. No, it’s not the archetypal theatrical Shakespeare’s in love, (I don’t eat & shit at the same place remember), it’s literally me battling Medusa. In fact, it’s Medusa and her sister, Stheno, which makes 2 venomous monsters. And it became a joke of how I actually have to stoop down to a 3 year old behavior to fight my rights through. In a nutshell, triumph belongs to the good when the curtains drew.

Then it comes to the episodes of f.r.i.e.n.d.s. Similarly, nothing right could be found on top of all wrongs. Just like when one element of your days crumples, God damn it, all shit silently befall on you altogether. Heated disputes between chums got fierier when habitual compliance no longer applies. Unsympathetic crudity fired off cold wars, following by the broken ring of fellowship. And it doesn’t help when both ends were born really strong headed.

So you see why the disinclination to pen down my melancholies of those grey days.

Then again, when the going gets tough, the tough gets going.

The rainbow appears at the end of my tunnel along with my resolution to abstain from the holy water. No jokes dudes, I’m clear from ‘it’ since the beginning of March. Even I’m impressed by my own strength of mind. Such lucid outlook certainly aids in self deliberation, though generally washed with tears and guilt. Now that Breezy Aly’s Phase III is resuming, let passé be it woman. At least air cleared and you are idyllic now.

Of course, the route back to happyness will not be possible without those who gave me a good push when I thought my world is collapsing. Thanks MissyD, MissyC, my sex-in-the-city girls, Mr Hippo, Mr Viky … for sharing and being my aunt agony. 

Summing it all, Aly’s philosophy of life:
1. Shit happens, as always.
2. Karma befalls, and they come fast.
3. Life’s a bitch, let’s embrace it

Then they say, the world’s a stage, and we are all players in it, that I totally agree now boy. Look at my soap opera days, how much of a mockery life is really.

p.s, the previous post was not songs lyrics dude, I wrote them.

Kiss my Royal butt