a Life Less than Ordinary

It's a come back for me after a very long time in hibernation. I've decided to dabble into writing about my own life! for a change. Speeding through the empty streets of Abu Dhabi, the heat slowly setting in, the scarce wind huffing and puffing to signal its departure, the large billboards that have invaded our streets, everything points towards the one thing you can do down here: Shopping. So I go on a shopping spree, in hopes of retrieving myself. I first go into a bookshop. I knew something was amiss when I felt the books staring at my back, fully realizing I was the odd one out. All books on positive thinking came right out at me. No, I can't buy anymore books! I have tons that need reading. I can't be an impulsive buyer anymore. Even my latest hobby, crochet, is not that interesting to me. I pick up Crochet World, whizzed through it, decide not to buy it and moved on. Oh! “Me” not getting a crochet magazine is a first! Next, Time Magazine, a little bit of politics can spring me right back to life. Then, Harvard Review. Then remember I don't have much time to read anyways so place it back, as orderly as I can. But then pick up the Economist. I have been feeling like I'm on free fall projectile and have missed on the world's affairs. Sarkozy is ascending. The big question is of course what matters to us: His foreign policies towards the Arabs (which are stinky!) So it does surprise me to see the general support he has from people in the Gulf region (I take that back, I'm not surprised!). So what will Nicolas Sarkozy and Gordon Brown bring to the world that their predecessors haven’t? Let's wait and allow the events to unfold, aren't we the experts at such passiveness?!? I left the bookshop with only two magazines. And one note book, don't even wonder why! That was definitely an impulsive move, one to linger and capture the essence of a past! I used to buy tons of note books! I have an issue now discarding them (That's one more title for me, Hoarder Queen, which makes a good title for a future blog).
I continue my shopping spree across the town.
Picked up some groceries.
Some yarns.
More and more beads.
Can't remember the feeling of beads between my fingers (when was the last time I made something?)
I arrive home, full of bags.
Yet, still empty handed!
I can feel the depth of my fall, the darkness that sears through my soul, once again. I find my self in utter desolation. I realize that only “Me” can help I get out of this misery. It doesn't help when the path is foggy and misunderstanding is all over the place. There ought to be a way out.
Perchance it's the next bend in the river that will be it!

(We don't always see eye to eye, but I have promised I'll always be there, come rain come drain, I'm there."