Writing for the heck of it

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It's just the second day of the New Year and I'm feeling really icky today. There's a knot of fear in my stomach and I'm feeling really anxious about something. Like there's something wrong in the offing. I know this is the first post of the new year and it's supposed to be cheery and all. But tonight, I write to get my mind off things.

Yesterday, I watched Guy Ritchie's Sherlock Holmes - 2 in the theater. I loved the final scene of the film. The film has been released in the year when the world is supposed to get over. Will it, though? In a sort of cheeky acknowledgment to this speculation, the final scene of the film has Sherlock quickly reading a document and adding a question mark to the very last phrase...which is: "The End". (So, it finally reads 'The End?') Clever. I wonder if that was intentional.

I seem to have my appetite under control now. Ate like a regular human-being yesterday and today. This means that I actually got through a meal and there was some stuff left over. Now, that could be a start to a health regimen - eat food, not inhale it.

I just went to bed for a while now. Lay in the darkness with eyes wide open, then half-closed, then tightly shut, then wide open again. So I took a cup of cool milk, sweetened it with sugar, and sipped it slowly. My head and heart just feel too crowded now. Too much stuff is combating for attention inside me. I hate that. I honestly want to bolt. If I could escape right now, and I do mean right now, to some place, I would do it. Unfortunately, I realize I'd be taking this screaming fight with me.

Maybe tomorrow I will figure this out. Or maybe I won't. While the rest of the world lives through 2012, I'll be going through 201? (Get it? The question mark is the last digit and it resembles 2. Indicating that my year is uncertain, more so than most, at least. Or so I'll believe for now.)

Not bad. The cool milk feels good and it seems to have given me the Guy Ritchie touch.

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