DELISHUZZ OBSESSIONS
I have a few more reading assignments with deadlines that have come and gone and yet I still could not get myself to a point where I have the least bit of inclination to read and then write something about what I have read. So what I have been doing was procrastinate by doing other less demanding (well, that depends on one's favourite thing to do) tasks in terms of brain energy usage; i.e. checking a written and an audio translation of books from an OT and a NT projects in the country and researching and writing Bible Study materials for adult Sunday School, teaching online seminars a few days a month. Yet even then, I am barely accomplishing what I have set out to do this year. Anyhow, things are getting done at a slug-pace but I guess I should thank my lucky stars (not that I believe in things like that) for the fact that my conscience still does a number on me every time I get into my most depressed, most sloth(y) season in life, which forces me to work for my daily bread, so to speak, as I cannot in good conscience keep receiving without first giving.
The fact is, this entry is a test whether or not I would be able to string together a few sentences to put down something comprehensible, though it might just be nothing but my usual nonsensical ramblings. For almost a year now, I have not really written anything considerably long due to nonexistent energy that there are days when all my head could manage to process was my son's school lessons. Whatever writing you see on my social media accounts are either a repost from some years ago or a couple of sentences that can't even be considered as a paragraph. Right now, I have no topic in mind to write about. I am just going to put into words whatever comes to me.
So I have been in my no-sleeping-for-days-on-end-routine again because I ran out of Melatonin some weeks ago, therefore I have been filling my late nights and early mornings with silly little tv series that I can only understand by fast-reading the suspiciously machine-generated subtitles, which for the most part seemed to not really reflect what is happening on screen. So armed with my google translator, I would hit pause and try to get the incomprehensible dialogues to the translator hoping to at least get a discernible translation that could give me a clue as to what is happening on the scene I was watching.
Unwittingly, I have become increasingly obsessed with this one telenovela where the leads with their off-the-charts chemistry portrayed a fairytale-like story of a hitman whose day job it is to put holes on peoples' heads with his gun, and lacks interest whatsoever in his own life, living like he's already dead, with only his insanely-protective nature over his family as his one redeeming quality (Okay, he's easy on the eyes too), and a lady neurosurgeon whose job it is to stitch up and heal the wounded, who seemed to be always on a mission to save people, what with her savior complex. Yes, I am going to sound like a lunatic here but I have to say that the most unlikely relationship that developed between the two is a subject of dreams for hopeless romantics like yours truly. Every single one of their scenes was on point, giving me the moments I knew I wanted but did not expect to get from a story like theirs.
Every scene where they act together is fire, a juxtaposition of their primary difference: that is when someone they love is hurt, the tendency is for the hitman to be hellbent on avenging the wrongdoing, while the lady doctor show her love and caring through her emotional but practical support on the objects of their care. In these scenes where they react so differently, their similarity becomes obvious, because it shows that both of them loved so fiercely and cares deeply, and their loyalty to their loved ones is second to none, but they have a very contrastive way of showing it. One does it through barely-controlled rage, brawn, burliness, blazing guns and all, while the other does it through hugs, gentle words and emotional fortitude. One has zero care walking into a hail of bullets to accomplish what he believes to be justice for the protection of those he loves, but ask him to show some heart and you'll find him panic-stricken. The other one is all empathy, tears, strong moral support, and uncompromising righteousness. But as their story progresses, the audience is slowly treated to a beautiful evolution in their relationship, an enthralling journey of how each character was changing the other for the better.
Of course there were villains in the story; some you tolerate, some confuses you whether or not you should root for them, some you outright hate because they suck times 10 (just because that is my son's age :). I guess the blossoming of the relationship between the protagonists was made more compelling by the fact that at the outset, he was given the job of offing her, but for some reason that he won't admit even to himself, he forced her to marry him instead so he does not have to kill her for seeing something she should not have seen. In the beginning of the story, she was begging him for her life at gunpoint, but at the next instant, she was all defiant and doing her level best to subvert his plans and get evidence to put him in jail. Then as she got to know him and his family, she started understanding him without compromising her morals and values. Ah basta!!! It is messed up, and a lot in it is wrong! But it is sweet, tender and delishuuzz!!!!! (And no, it is not a steak!!Haha) Now, I am off to rehab for exclamation mark abuse! LOL
Anyway, if I got you curious at this point, ask me what series it was. Haha!
A lot of times, I needed fiction to inject some fun into my drab, colorless, live-repeat-live repeat days (I am talking next-level depression), so here you go. On the nights I could not sleep, which is almost every night, I keep rewatching the scenes that plucked so strongly at my heartstrings, then I stare at the ceiling, then I get the hubby to hug me, then I play tickles or karaoke with my baby, then I would have enough energy to do my job, sometimes with enough enthusiasm and joy to last half the day, then for the rest of the workday, all I have is my conscience and my practiced routine of wakeup-work-sleep, wakeup-work-sleep pushing me to accomplish what needs to be done.
What GRACE, that God is still holding my sanity.
This is for you, my dear ading Djin... ;) .. just because you said that you have missed my blah blah blahs.
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