Dont know what to name this one...

I have logged into my blog after over a month's time, after that last Valentine's Day Post, thanks to the loads of stuff I needed to finish at work. Infact I'm posting this at 3:45 AM from my office work-desk. :D
To follow up on the last post, I originally planned to write about another day that is celebrated on 14th of February. Its called the International Quirkyalone Day!!
You can find all that you need by following the link given below. Check it out!! http://quirkyalone.net/

And the reason I was going to write about it is because I thought that I fit pretty well in that quirkyalone description:
"A person who enjoys being single (but is not opposed to being in a relationship) and generally prefers to be alone rather than dating just for the sake of being in a couple."

I took the above to mean that a quirkyalone should not mind solitude, on both the short and long time scales, and I know myself to be of the off-beat kind who not only enjoy solitude, but even go looking for it.
(What a paradox.. looking for solitude. :D)
But the iconoclast that I am, I should have suspected the symptoms of getting so voluntarily classified into a category!! Hehe.. Because an experience I had on Sunday has changed it all. :D

You see, like a good teacher and friend, I left my guitar at one of my student's place on Friday evening, asking her to practice for the guitar class on Sunday, as we haven't been able to find a good guitar for her to buy yet. What I didn't realize is that for the next two nights, I would have to go to sleep without my customary 30 minute fretboard workout and the subsequent(addictive) pain in my hands..

And so it happened that I woke up on this Sunday morning with a weird feeling in my heart. I got through my morning chores feeling a bit low, and wondering why. Some unidentified gloom seemed to have settled on my existence even as I went about devouring a 250-page Ebook on my laptop. Apart from the insidious, under-the-surface sadness-like feeling, it had been a normal Sunday on every count. It was only hours later that I realized what it was. I was feeling the exact "withdrawal symptoms" generally associated with a break-up!! I was feeling all "bluesy" and sad inside, and I realized I was missing my guitar!!

Alexz Johnson crooned "I'm in love with my guitar!" to my brain as I struggled to look at the situation in the absolute perspective. It was seriously quite an effort to break out of the trance and reach a brain-space where I could shake my head and smile at my own predicament.

The little experience has stirred quite a few off-shoots of thought in my teeming brain. For starters, being fine without people around but missing a guitar can mean either of two things,

1) Finally, I am musically able enough to start taking repose within my own music and depend on it to take me away to somewhere I have never been before.

2) As expressed in a couple of posts earlier, I am so stone-hearted, practical-minded and selfish that all I need is a inanimate instrument rather than people to keep my sanity.

I know that second option is gonna raise a few hackles again, and more than one of my close friends shall surely threaten me with murder.. Hehe.. But then,

WHO CAN DECIDE WHAT THEY DREAM?
AND DREAM I DO...

Luv-n-Luck,
Av