Ended.

Thank you for the beautiful love while it lasted. Thank you for the memories I'll hold until Heaven's end has happened. For the lips will be the only thing I taste in eternity. Though only in dreams will the heart dare return to me.

And every single part of me had waited.

Haunting our own Houses

It was a heart bled into one cell of grief. In the bodily way. can't talk sense into your sleep, stomach, nerves as you don't get the choice here. through the mountains of molassas and quick sand. fall down or climb up. it's an unwanted risk. some stupid crossroads where once in your life things are black and white. if you could just wipe the fuzzy gray clouds from your eyes to see it. i would love you for having the same cloud over you. A blanket of common incommonality. Probably the path of most resistance is waiting for you and for some reason thanks for the opportunity- love.

Exhaustion

Stop.

Lost.

Is it deeper than that shallow puddle of small talk raining down from open mouths who have forgotten how to listen to the intent behind it all?

Triviality at best and I am going to scrape the salt left behind off my skin from too much sweat and tears, tearing my good from my nature.


Foreseen trepidation and discovered indifferences to the realness of the raw emotions between eye to eye conversations built upon shaky pillars.

Inquisitive eyes and a brow down-turned despite deliberate arms open, I cannot prove trust to the untrusting souls cut from stoic stone faces.

Explanations are unnecessarily stacking up like unpaid bills being spoken to a Van Gogh ear, chapped lips drink water from such shallow puddles.

You think so?

Catnip

Kitty cat scratching on the back door leaving rake marks on splintered wood - that's looking like your pale skin claw scarred from other alley cats. Crying from trashcans and howling sounds towards brick wall barriers that lead to warm buildings where there are always leftovers and warm hands that scratch down backs. Kitty cat stretching out on rooftops overhead to watch the pigeons flying in circles scavenging for scraps thrown like your discarded loves to the wayside without an apology.

I gave kitty cat a name.

I love you, but I'm not in love with you.

They say actions speak louder than words. From everything I've gathered from friends, family, lovers, and acquaintances, this is very much true. 

This brings me to my case in point: when a person claims to have forgiven you but cannot look you in the eye, there most likely is something wrong here. When a person says I love you but acts against the very nature that is love, for instance, well then there is something very wrong here indeed.



In relationships I look at sleeping patterns sometimes. This divides into two categories: sleeping, as in sex as a sleeping pattern, in so much as how you practice the act of sex and also with whom you are sleeping, i.e., if you are cheating, and of course the literal act of falling asleep with someone else in your bed. 

The latter is looked at as trivial by some. Slight, I agree, but also very telling, because after all in any relationship we have to look at reactions. It's all about reactions. When an individual falls asleep, we pay attention to his or her regular position and call it science, we call it suggesting, we say that it tells something about this person in his or her waking life. Does he sleep on his stomach? Does he sleep in a ball? Does he sleep on his back with his hands above his head? All of this is said to explain something about the person. Why then, would the adjustment of someone else in the sphere of his most primitive state, be any different?



I've known two kinds of men next to whom I have fallen asleep. The pushers and the pullers. Now, it is common knowledge that it is just damn near impossible to sleep with someone who is either smothering you, breathing in your ear, or cutting off your air circulation in an attempt to do what he considers cuddling but you rather like to call choking. This is a given. So, it is absolutely okay to cuddle with your loved one and then need to pull away so that you can get a good night's sleep. But, when you wake up, do you reach for them? Do you feel for them? These things matter.

The first person I was truly capable of loving I fell asleep holding, and woke up with him still holding me. To date, this was the first and last time that this has ever happened. 



I was once with someone who used to pull away from me when he fell asleep. When he'd wake throughout the night, sometimes he'd reach for me. But only sometimes. On the same night he shared something very painful and intimate with me he fell asleep for the first time curled up next to me because he was vulnerable, and in sleep, as in sex, you are at your rawest with the other person. I woke up with is hand still over me. This was the last time we physically saw each other becasue we broke up shortly thereafter. Vulnerability can be scary. You see, it's the little things.



Relate this to sex. First, the act of it, and then later, the people involved. In bed you can tell just as much about a person's character as you can when you watch him with strangers. It's the little things. Consider, for example, the last time you watched a man interact with a small child. As women, our natural programming inclines us on an unconscious level to go for those who we think would make the best fathers, but I say that we are also attracted to the kindness. It is a matter of being kind in a raw state, the raw state being the interaction with the child. Think about the way a person fights: does he become mean and condescending? Does he become rude to the people around him? Again, these things matter.

Similarly, a man's behavior in bed can tell a lot about his character. If he is giving in bed, more likely than not, he is giving in other areas of the relationship. If he is controlling in bed, he is most likely this way in life. Again, this goes both ways: if he is selfish or closed off in bed, do not be surprised if he also steals the covers or is more boring than watching paint dry; however, if he is inconsiderate in waking life but you find that he is giving in bed, then do not give up on this one. There is hope for this man yet. At this point it is only a matter of spreading his charity so that it nurtures other parts of the relationship. 

When it comes to sex and sleeping and other people get involved, this is what we call cheating. Cheating. I'll say it again for that extra sting – cheating. Shit. I do believe that some cheaters genuinely feel bad, but not all. I have never cheated or should I say that I don't know how to cheat. I was blessed enough to have patient people teach me what respect and unconditional mean and pray that we are all fortunate enough to have such people in our lives.



Some people cannot control their desires for the unknown. Fair enough. But there is also this thing called free will. There is always a moment, always, when you say I can do this or I cannot. You chose to get drunk and to kiss him. You chose to be alone with him while your friends weren't around. I don't care what you say, penis did not fall in and out of the same girl six or seven times by accident. It's just not possible. I understand that everyone want's what he or she cannot have. That's fabulous. Now get over it. Everyone wants that which biologically counters everything that nature intended: to stay young forever, to smile forever, to run forever, to live forever. Eventually expectations get capped off. My romance with the idea of "enough" will indefinitely dwindle with age, because that is the law of aging, that is the law of time. 



It's kind of like, once a smoker, always a smoker... yes, you can quit, but there's still going to be that urge. Maybe you can follow suit like the rest the people that goes and try on the conviction of "social smoker," whatever the hell that means anymore, but this is still just you trying to manage something that is very much there. You've already crossed that line. When you quit, you will always be quitting. Even if you haven't smoked for five years, you're still only quitting. You've just been quitting for five years. 

Infidelity demonstrates present fickleness; it does not determine truths about the future. It cannot. A mistake simply does not have that much power over a person. Cheating and betrayal have only as much power as you give them. If you think that you are a bad person, a coward, a fraud, a liar, then you will be. It is in the individual's own notion to continue defective patterns. If you categorize yourself with such a hateful label as "cheater," you've given into the word, and you most likely, always will. 

Some relationships end when true feelings start to develop because we don't know how to handle them, and we ended up making several mistakes in the process. If you find yourself in a situation wherein this is the case, nobody can win here. Nothing will ever be even. People run will, people get scared. People are human. Doing any of the mentioned is only human. It's one of the hardest things in the world to convince yourself that no change of circumstances can repair a character defect, but that jumping out of love simply because you've fallen out of love is just about as dumb as jumping into love simply because you've fallen in. It has to be a process. This is all a process. There are ups and downs, and there always will be. There are pushers and and there are pullers. Some days you'll want to smoke, and other days you won't. Some days we will confuse our friends and lovers, and some days, it will all be okay.



If you've cheated in any form, be it emotionally or physically, and if you're sorry, you cannot expect forgiveness if you remain unwilling to give it. You need first to forgive yourself for the harm caused before the other person can even consider you fairly. Get on your knees. Someone else can only forgive you if he truly believes that you understand what you put him through. It is only from that point which you can offer a genuine, selfless apology; and, even then, you are not guaranteed an acceptance. After all, you've broken somebody's trust once. To trust again takes length and guts, it takes willingness, it takes forgiveness, and it takes surrendering. To apologize and to not mean it fully is simply another lie, and you can't afford another lie. Be careful with your words. Never say "I love you" if you do not mean it. To say it and to not mean it fully is already an act of infidelity, because if a thing loves, it is infinite; do not tempt eternity if you're not willing to deal with its consequences.

In some lifetime, a girl will spend more time thinking about a passed lover than anyone could ever imagine.

People leave.

So. It's been forever since I've written anything good. Life is full of things that takes up time and then everytime you turn around... it has been days, weeks, months, year or and years. The life/ people that you once knew are now forgotten they forget you and move on. I wonder if having a better life gives me more time to analyze little things that will go wrong... and they can make me just as upset. Well, I'm only human; woman. But seriously, do you think that pain and suffering must be a part of our lives? I mean are there levels of happiness and saddness or just waves of the chemical happy/ sad?... Or simply that it is just part of our lives. I believe that in the absence of things that make us happy/ sad... we would find new things to be happy or sad about. So even if you solved all your problems right now and as soon as they're gone you will have new ones. In retrospect if something makes you happy and you loose it, you will probably find something/ someone who makes you just as happy- maybe. Can you be more sad than someone? Can you really be more happy than someone? Probably... Not sure of what am I'm rambling about tonight... just debating this notion, then again I may be wrong.

Speaking of sadness, I attended a birthday party last Friday... didn't expect it to be such a big crowd but it was- big. There are people whom I no longer hang out with, grown apart with and those whom I no longer talk to. Weird mix. It seems that people go from person to person... click to click most of the time... dissapearing into different social circles.... And you think you know people. I was wrong, he was right. That is sad. Little matters. No It doesn't matter. What matters would always be those whom were no longer around, always at the back of my mind, always a part of me.

So... been hanging out in the good life lately... yes and mystic meanings aside long story short I believe it can only be for the better. I have been good. Can't complain.

Roadtrip.
















He was a grumpy driver all the way. It was described as a near death experience according to one while others were sleeping, listening to mp3 and snoring. I was being kept awake and I said: just relax, this is China... do you want to listen to my ipod?

While waiting.

I remembered I helped to count the coins on the table. You were fast. I was clumsy.

A life of dreams all week.

Lately more than ever I've been wishing things will emerge. Trickles down like a memory of silhouettes fading just across my finger tips. Trace the meaning of my words with the corner of your lips. How I miss your face. Play me another song that's so intune to me, I pray we feel alive. I live to see.

I'm not looking for a lover.

It still rings in my ears - Oh, get out, the butcher's knife. I've been screaming for years, but it gets me nowhere. Just get out the butcher's knife.

I can't believe...

Forgetful.

The rising words are pushed downwards, spiral dancing away from insecurities.

Watching my little creatures the jealousy babies, barking for attention.

Covered ear patting blindly only to shut out the sound invasive.

Trying in vain to be understood when the moment had passed, elusive explanation lost to raw emotional energy.

My track record for recollection is spotty, with too many gaps to fill in when I was paying more attention to the way your eyes would glisten.

Two curves sitiing on the comfortable padded chair, the smell of morning.

Always just as important to listen, to interpret correctly, to travelling upward to a positive approach.

Farewell to reproach and my precision must be as sharp as my wit.

Hello W, S.

"Where's food?"

You don't get to choose. You just fall. And learn. Please learn.

A surprised call from a good friend since college days. Woke me up and got me thinking about love and all all over again... not a bad thing, like a reality check sometimes. Seems like people around me is getting a divorce. Or could it be being at this time and age where people are starting to realize that the person lying next to us is not happiness anymore but a selfish thought of hindrance of one's desire? But who am I to say that this is a selfish thought? Well there are certainly a lot of choices around and what makes you think that the later is always a better choice? Or it is your definition of love that keeps repeating itself. Love.

True love means putting up one hell of a fight when it's over. "In a separation, it is the one who is not really in love who says the more tender things," (Marcel Proust). I can attest to this statement, I've been on both sides. Think about it: if true love means giving all you have to someone who you know you're going to lose, fearlessly, you give it all you've got anyway… well, then it wouldn't shock me at all if you make a dramatic exit.

Don't get me wrong, here. There is a certain mode of etiquette and sensible sum of manners that go hand in hand with any breakup. There are definite "do's" and "don'ts," and a degree of calm that one must maintain along with a broken heart. There is indeed some face to be saved. All things considered, I come back to this idea, that real love equals the biggest fuss when it is over. Why? To me, love is so raw and so pure that it is almost childlike in this sense. It is blind. It is reckless. It is desperate. And who does this remind you of? Children. In our heart of hearts, we are all children. Nevertheless, there is indeed a point at which you need to silence the child. For instance, trashing things up is a no-no. However, the text messaging, the emails, the yearning, the crying, the sadness … it's the fuss. It's fighting your heartbreak, because it hurts so much. If you can walk away from it cleanly, it wasn't love to begin with. Real love, when it's over, means a grieving, crying child.

Like a child, love is so simple. Too often do people look at love as this complicated, laborious creature that needs to be contented with and restrained, wrangled like a bull. People get too hung up on the word, "love," or on the social implications of maybe saying it too soon. If you are one of these people, it is said that you have already fallen in love with language, which is, according to some, already a form of break up and infidelity. The first time I really looked at this claim, I didn't understand it. Now I realize that my inability to understand was based soley on the fact that I, too, had been guilty of overcomplicating the word once or twice, okay maybe three times. As far as chemistry goes, the faster you jump into something, the faster it will fall apart. Immature love says I love you because I need you; mature love says I need you because I love you. Consider yourself warned: the problem with believing in love at first sight is that you will never stop looking. Even if you get the person, you will later turn to another. You will cheat. You will escape. You will check out. You will drink. You will relapse. You will run. You will never settle down.

My dear friend is absolutely falling apart with this broken marriage, lost of love and all the hurt that comes with it which I can relate to completely with the later. All I could say is believing in loving oneself before anyone else. Simply being on knowing how can you give that which you do not have? Indeed a circle. It begins and ends with you, as somebody once told me. It can only be so much as pass through the people who surround you. If it is so simple, then it is feeling and accepting unconditional love in return that remains the greatest challenge. I am confident in saying that I do not face this challenge alone. I have met people who, if only they'd let me love them, I would have loved them forever. Sadly, they run...like hell. It was never meant to hurt, to corner, to isolate. or daunting. So, why did these people run? Is it because they did not get it? Did they overcomplicate the word? Or was it simply that they did not love themselves enough at the time to love you back? I've come to the conclusion that the person who ran, did not love me. Or at least, not in the same way that I loved them. Anyone who's ever had a heart wouldn't turn around and break it.

Why did they not love me? Hell if I know. It does not make me unlovable. Maybe it was just a timing thing. Or, maybe, it was one of the questions I asked earlier. Maybe these people were just not ready. Maybe they needed a moment. Maybe they needed someone else. I know this, because I've done this. Once upon a time, I was them. Does this affect me now? Of course not. I loved. I lived. It's what you love, not what loves you. Heartbreaks set aside, I believe I still have a lot left in me and I can only be grateful for the opportunities. Experiences always open up to the future. People, in all of their fears, had given me something. Strength.

My mom used to tell me that timing is everything. She was right. I've learned this much about love: the one you love today and the one who loves you today are never, ever the same person. It's all about the timing. It seems that first you will have someone fall madly in love with you before you are capable of falling madly in love with someone else. This is the pattern I have picked up on from my own experiences and from the experiences of others. It's all about the timing, and timing is all we've got.

I hope I have given my friend strength and faith to get through whatever she is going through now. Here's what I say: Do not give up on people, not even on the bad ones, because in all honesty, when push comes to shove, you are that other person. Never be so arrogant as to underestimate your own capacity to do as someone else. Never cut people out. Simply distance yourself from the unhealthy minds. In all of this, do not forget that we need these people in our lives. They challenge us and make us stronger. And, if it was meant to be … don't worry, they'll come around. They'll come back. They always do.

Glad to have a sister.

It is.

Reflections, through a mirror, or a picture. Everyone looks at it differently. As is? Like a damaged product no one wants to buy that it is not good enough for you and it's not good enough for them. As is, flaws and all, because unlike you it can see the beauty in the messed up things, in the "damaged product" it can't wait until you finally sees it. Open your eyes and pry through it's chest, touches it's heart, it won't hurt. Don't close your eyes, don't give up yet. 

A week of fever.

With furrowed brows the intensity slid down sideburns to drip from my lips leaving shadows into the depths far later than a five o'clock shadow turning hands to midnight, or two or was it three a.m. in early morning hours.

Rumbling like thundering but with a low dull growl hands latched on with need to relaxing back to fraility, to softness, to return to the core of myself where the flowers grow in twisting vines to make footholes and ropes designed to carry such determination to the interiors and rooms locked of my mind.

Moisture from my cloudy head was left like dew on eye lashes closed and moments of silence after silence halted breaths of a muffled I miss you leaving words upon the walls of my bedroom confessional.

With quiet calm these days have turned passing moments like drawing chalk scenes on hot cement and my night times are full of melted marshmallow moments over bowls of chocolate covered pear cocktails I can taste on my mouth.

Fever talk.

And in some dark, there is hidden light.



Their footsteps echoed throughout the darkened hallway. She held his hand tightly, walking a step faster than he did because she was the only one between them that could see through the shadows. That small embrace was what could have save them both. Her grip slipped but no, she will hold on, whispering to herself. He, deaf and blind, merely smiled. She knew her thoughts were true but she knew also that those words will come worse consequences. The one whose hand she held would become devoured in oblivion.

He purred sweet nothings into her ear and tried to pull her close, tried to make her call out to give herself away. she could see what he could not. She was giving in, breaking down beneath their roughened touch. She was what he's not; and everything she wanted… She thought he would want the same, offering a chance, a change, a simple kiss. She looked to him waiting for him, in the dark, silent with hollow gazes and shook her head softly she thought he was more than that. She had wished to perhaps see a smile spread across his lips and she will tightened her hand on this. A little further…then maybe they will get to see the light.

Cast away for that waste of breath and light. He watches as she stumbles and pick herself up even as the sharp rocks cut into her already torn heart. Such strength...Such beautiful...beautiful strength.

She knew before she sought the hand out to hold. She had brushed her fingertips against his in a tenative embrace, but the touch was too strange.The more she thought about it, the more perfect it becomes. Unlike anything else, it made light seep through the darkest part of her corrupted heart. It drove her mad, and she did not know how to return to the part of this world where people are content to rot, to dance with the corpses of the past and flesh out the sick desires of broken hearts and treason.

She watch the sky, noting that through the gray, there were streaks of brilliant light.

Leaping stuffs.

So for some reason I start to think about random things when I am tired and blurt them out. I thought I'd post some of the recent things that go through my mind when I'm barely awake.

Why is the color brown almost never associated with something good, at least not right away. think about it, dirt, poop, rust (sort of red but brownish)?

Why do people go out of thier way to pass you in (in a car) as fast as they can and cut you off just to gain a car lenth before the next light that is obviously red. Also, why do people cuss other people out of the road, I know I sometimes feel like telling people that they are retards for not being able to drive but seriously, all you are doing is making other people angry and then they get mad and do the same shit. And why is it that the people who honk and cuss at someone who doesn't take off from a light light away always end up doing somthing even more stupid and dangerous and then get mad for people honking at them?

why do people talk about loosing weight and dieting but I always see them after a week of dieting binging out on junk food?

Why do people drive around parking lots for 10 minutes looking for the closest parking spot when they could have parked and the end of the row and saved 8 minutes of driving?

Why is it when men (thugs and homies in paticular) see a girl and start hitting on her and she ignores them she instantly goes from being called sexy, darlin etc.... to bitch?

Why is it when you say my legs hurt, I'm really tired, or have an injury, rarely does anyone say oh what happened. instead you always hear them saying they have the same problem but they go on to describe how bad they have it and why it happened to them and ignore you?

And now why don't I get some sleep?

Not even your shadow will have me.

I can't shake these dreams. So many vivid scenes that they must mean something. How real they seem, as if I could somehow change my life. I can't begin to explain myself, nor say what I want you to hear, so I just don't begin. To follow in those footsteps and figure out where I'm supposed to start. I just wish that I could somehow wake up.

This I am.

I have a strong mind which can sort out pain into meaning. Because our pain belongs in some order.  And this, is why I do the things I do. So some idea shapes me.

Something into nothing; such horrible form.

Avalanche! Bring down the hills. Rushing like ants in the town they panic. Conversation stands still, and still, and still we all lock eyes in the silence. Not a word. How ironic. It kills to swallow. In the cold. At the foot of the hill they all gather. The bodies. The mess. Together as one.

A familiar sound.

When I was little I remember hearing dial-tones, humming sounds that filled the empty spaces between conversation, between the ‘hello’s and ‘goodbye’s. But that was deemed unnecessary noise, and like everything else, was eliminated.

For you.

For you, have been a constant in my life, you have stood beside me, bit your tongue, told me when I was wrong, picked me up, dusted me off and loved me all along.

Sometimes I miss it all right.

Some things shouldn't ever be forgotten, like a lover's touch, or a lover's kiss. Or the way their breath falls in and out of their mouth like a psalm, the way their laughter becomes your gospel, the way their skin becomes your testaments. The way their eyes become your heaven and their mouth becomes your hell, the way your altars become lips and wrists and how you get used to praying on your knees.

Live Streaming....From My Brain!

Tired, hyper...hyper! The need to write... more. Bed is white. Head is spinning around, 'round, 'round, 'round, 'round, round.... no alcohol is in me, I just feel kind of weird.

*stream of conscienciousness-ed* If you don't like me, I no longer care. Just don't bother me anymore. I've already figure out who are my friends. Not paranoid. Just that my face feels like rubber. Need to reiterate, I am not high.

No nutritious food lately plus little sleep plus no saturday night human contact equals J is wierd as freggin something else.

*rickety-rockety back and forth* chmp chiomp chompdojfajoiiiiihf;kje*dreamy sjfkan whfancifulahejfalaj:_()^&D_*^0_P:..I@">$)..&@:$$()^*keyboard = j.

I hate my phone. It keeps shutting off on it own just like my mind likes shutting things off. Not that I'm complaining about that. So is this the spice of... cell phones? I forget how that goes.

*nasal meter explodes* Stupid post nasal drip, making me feel ickky to the max.

If you find mind please give back.

Time spent.

I've spent time shielding my heart from sharp things that cut my insides into bloody snowflake messes.

Folded each word up and filed it under "left unsaid" all flowing now from mouths agape, with a heart too full of love to hate.

I've spent time shielding my eyes from seeing feelings, that wrap around my shoulders pulling me to this place.

Vulnerability is spilled out across my pages, all knowing now my guts crawl out with a courage you have made me face.

Too much past to erase but this space and place, I can draw from memory. This face.

Drawn curtains and closed windows of my repeated words of only truths, place that girl cast upon a wavelength of my burning youth. Leaving only ashes to fly to you.

This shall be.

She opened her eyes this morning, remembering the dreams of last night, of things, with a man she was supposed to meet sometime christmas last year. Perhaps they will never meet, but this i recall...a feeling of...how, this is the begining of the rest of her life. Everyday for the next  hundred days, the thought of a male figure imprinted in her thoughts periodically, between every chord change, every sip of drink, every corner turned, every glance through the eyes in the crowd, every drag of the slowest burning cigarette. He will not feel a thing, not a gesture, no premonition, empty of signs of being in someone's thoughts approximately every other twenty minutes of the day, nor twitching of the left brow. Nothing left.

For W, M & S

And you who think to seek for me, know your seeking and yearning. That if you seek me and find me not within you, you will never find me without. For behold, I have been with you from the beginning, and I am with you endlessly...

Looking at you through my fingers...

I smug when anguish crossed his face...and all he did was play by the rules. So I pulled away and looked at it with contempt.

Lies.

That gray, waxy thingy that my pizza sat on sucks! They lied. They said that it will make our food crispy when we microwave food on it. You're supposed to put your pizza in it and it's supposed to make your food as crispy as if you baked it. Not that you don't want to bake it, but because you don't have 30 minutes to wait to stuff your face simply because you are so tired coming home from work on a lousy day and hungry that you want your food NOW! What do you do? You nuke it in the microwave instead. It doesn't work. It never works. For goodness sake, It's not a crispy-maker. It raises your hopes only to dash them away. The pizza comes out just as soggy except this time, it comes with the added suspicion that you have just increased your chances for getting cancer because you nuked it on the gray thing. In fact, you don't even know what it's made of. If an object could ever mock someone, it would be this thing. You disgusting gray-colored, waxy, sorta-shiny-yet-dull, plastic, paper thingy that comes with my microwave pizza!

What hurts the most is being so close.

Unless you are quite close to her and if you look at it close enough; You would probably know.

It was a gift that was given to be cherished. It was given faith, courage, and gifts to itself. A pathway was created for it through sincere efforts but it can crumble. Sometimes selfishness can overpower family and sometimes it overpower Love. She said these to a friend once that people gave selfishness to another by placing it in their mind. And used others with greed in their hearts to place it in others.

So she smile only believing that people don't listen to their hearts very often. They keep fighting, thinking they're doing right, when they're only letting "wrong" consume them. Did he know she misses him? She's told him before. Does he miss her? Sincerely? She might want to know. She's let it pass, and pass, and pass... and it will pass no more. He keeps fighting, she keeps fighting. Is this a hint? And so the path has crumbled.

If you're out there, I hope you find me.

I can't remember anything we talked about that night. I guess thats why I can't be sad about it all. I'm good at what I do, and sometimes that's a curse. The weather changes daily, and so does my mood today.

The middle of the desert...

Is empty.

10 Things.

Somewhere along, I promised a friend to write things that now does not matter anymore.

1. I'm sorry that I've never had your back the way that you've had mine. There's nothing I can do to make up for the time I've wasted not being a part of your life. At this point, I feel like I've lost my chance to really know who you are anymore, despite how much I want to. Despite all this, I still feel like there's something with the two of us that is thicker than just blood. 

2. There's nothing that says we should even be friends, but for whatever reason, I can't seem to get you out of my life. In fact, I think we've spent more time hating each other than being friends. But for some reason or another, we are. Mutual insecurity?  Possible.

3. I hate that you let people walk all over you and then use your hurt as a tool to manipulate people into feeling sorry for you. If you really wanted a better life for yourself, then you'd suck it up and get on with it. I think what I hate most about you is that you're every bit as controlling as I am. Regardless of all this, though, I care about you a great deal, and I just wish you'd make better choices. And we did have good times, no matter how bitter the aftertaste.

4. For a long time, I've had to cover-up everything about you, for fear that the truth would come out and that I would finally have to admit to myself how much you've utterly destroyed me for so long. And now your reign has ended.

5. You wasted years of yours trying to be everything I wanted. You were the support I never got. Yet I still believe that you deserve better the best and I sincerely hope that you find it, whatever it is that you need. I know that there is so much potential and talent and love in you, and you're truly a wonderful person.

6. I sometimes don't really believe that I knew you. It seems like I dreamed it all up, like one of my other tall-tales. It didn't take long after you left for me to stop imagining ridiculous scenarios of us in my head, but I wish we talked more. I wish we'd had longer to feed off that creative energy we found, but hey. That's life and distance.

7. However short-lived it may have been, I have never been more impassioned by life and art and the times I spent with you. Let's just say there's nothing I ever say about you that encompasses how much you changed me. You replaced my apathetic facade with a true lust for living, and for that I thank you.

8. You are the best coincidental story of my life, even if we met in an abandoned space lit by a single lightbulb. You're incredible in every sense of the word, and the world is a better place for you being in it.

9. I secretly think that you're the only one that understands me and leave for no reason at all. I'm glad we met. 

10. I have grown. We don't have any mutual friends anymore. But I can't help missing you, even if we don't talk.

So if it makes you happy. 


Please put your seats into the upright position.

A strange and emotionally taxing day (little of which, ironically, had anything to do with relationships) led me to contemplate my life-long fascination with airplanes, air travel, airports and the like. If you know me at all, flying on planes is a secret indulgence of mine; traveling the world's airports one day is a quiet ambition. There is definitely some irony, I think, in that suspended state of novelty: that flight, or travel in general, is a mere state of transition between the daily grind and vacation, home and away, the real world and the fantasy, point A and point B, etc.

However, it is flight, it seems to me, that is the only slice of the "real" world there is in that whole process; the only pure moment of simply existing. The rest of the time, our lives are (if you'll forgive the T.S. Elliott reference) crudely stitched together pieces of the past and the projected future. We are always on track, on schedule, even on that all-expenses-paid trip, quantifying and compacting whatever fleeting pieces of the "moment" we do hold.

Be here at this time, meet at this place, prepare something to turn in, gather things up to check out. But in the air, there is nothing to stay on track of. Meals are made just for that moment - single-serving cheese, single-serving fruit cup, single-serving innocuous dish. There are never any leftovers, any save-for-laters, save the bag of peanuts you kept from those first fifteen minutes after take off. And even then, it's a snack of the moment - not something that required planning a trip to the shop, and traveling and the spending of money, but the instant satisfaction of a fleeting belly-growl. You become nothing but a property of that frame in time. You half-watch that romantic comedy not because you like it, but because you've seen the rest and there is nothing else you can or should be doing. And that is beautiful; that is what real life is. It is you scanning through the in-flight magazine with the obscure jazz artist or pan-Asian chef on the cover. It is being impressed by the music selection on the airline's alternative station, not because you don't have your iPod, but because you are lost in that state of your old glory, when there is nothing in the moment but what treasures the sandbox may hold. It's about not being able to sleep or concentrate on anything except the clouds gliding away beneath the hull and soon you catch yourself wondering what it would be like to just jump out of that window and land on a puff of cumulus; to skip quick miles on those nimbuses, diving and floating like you know you can't and you just don't get how that's not possible because they look so full and thick. And when the plane is passing right through them, turning that crystalline fluff into pieces of ghost, you still stick with the cotton-candy faith you had when you were a kid on your first plane ride.

Upon landing, you'll race to get your bags and get to the hotel and crash from the time difference or you'll fight traffic to get home and crash from the culture shock and disappointment of the return to rat race and routine. And there's always at least a little part of you that's appeasing someone other than yourself, but up in the sky there is only your half-finished can of Diet 7UP, no smoking in the lavatories and dreams of dancing away over the tiny life below as your weight shifts under a fuzz blanket.

Tiny life, Palahniuk called it. He's right.

Westie don't bark (not true).

I find myself bored silly tonight with not much to do but think about all the things i should be doing. The time in the day should be night and the sky is to bright to be lying. Is the world upside down and gravity just plain wrong. Is it actually true that we revolve around the sun or do we revolve around a skillfully planned mindfucks (excuse me) that will one day destroy the whole world?

Do people cuss becuase it's the appropriate word for the sentence and gives it enough "oomph" to justify it's existence there, or am i just to stupid to give it better wording? (i answered that one for myself) Do i question the lies or feed the truth, and if i do neither what should i be doing? And if a dog wags it's tail and knocks over a glass filled halfway up with water and it cracks an egg, does anyone hear about it in the right wing controlled media?

I'm sure there are a million questions no one cares to answer but i should have the right to give those questions life, and then watch as no one cares, and no one notices, and i'm still alone in my pj wishing the moon would fall on top of the world and crush everyone. Because no one matters and no one is real except the dream within each one of us. That dream keeps us going and no one can stop it no matter how hard they try.

Shadow boxing.

Sometimes I try to think why we always end up alone, or how frustrating it is that we never have reasons as to why things happen (reasons know nothing). I think the awful truth about life, is that its not so awful. That its not good, or bad, or cruel, or kind. It is not fickle and it is not fated, it just is life. 

I think what makes it so hard is that we go through life knowing absolutely nothing, all the while trying to figure out everything. We want to know what it feels like to hurt, to smile, to bleed, to cry, to laugh. We want to know how things touch and taste, we want to know their smells, their secrets. We want to know it all. And I think what scares so much is that they feel they dont know enough. I think thats the only real difference between being happy and unhappy. Whether or not you're content with what youve learned, what you've been given, and what you've experienced, and what you've lost. 

I hope you were happy.

Damn birds.

I had the pleasure of being woken up by two doves bonking on my windowsill this morning. Well, I'm not sure if they were actually 'bonking', with the rhythmic grunting noises in that ugly and unmistakable dove tone that steadily rose to a climax, followed by a frantic flapping of wings and general birdlike commotion, I can't be wrong.

So, it went on for about 5 minutes before I finally snapped, leapt out of bed, went over to the window, and slide it open with bloodlust. Two surprised looking doves were right there. One of them immediately flew off to a nearby rooftop, but the other just hopped over to an out-of-reach windowsill and then just stood there eyeing me with the vacuous, dumbass gaze that only a dove can muster. With that gazed, I got even more pissed off as I imagined that this stupid creature was somehow mocking me. In my admittedly twisted logic, I began to imagine that the bird knew I wasn't getting laid, and was trying to show me up, you know, to rub it in. Consumed with rage and avian loathing, I was tempted to try luring that little piece of shit closer. But then, a loud (and unmistakably sexual) human female moaning came echoing through the window below mine, causing the bird to flee. As I listened to my neighbor getting plowed, and the hearty gasps and muffled screams that accompaned her orgasms, I realized I had to go back to bed.

Shooting ducks in fishbowl.

Why waste time when there is not enough time to waste, i ask myself that while lazily lounging and pondering where i'm at and why i'm still here? I do think positively, i just don't do it enough when it's nessassary. Another generalization come to life in print for all (no one) to see.

Sometimes it's best to just lock the door and pretend you're not home.

Somewhere along the line real life communication with another human being is essential to having a normal existence. Times have changed, because these days people can hide away on the internet and post their thoughts and ideas in weblogs, probably get feedback from the other internetonians and be happy? Because all that face to face talk is too personal, and not wide spread enough. So unless your a public performer who spouts off at the mouth about whats haunting you to whoever is there to see you. So now with the internet you don't need a soapbox to stand on, and you don't need to work hard to attact crowds.

Personal communication and development is (can be) hindered by this inpersonal "cold" device. Right at this moment, I am only talking to myself.

I've felt at times that trying to convey real emotion and thoughts on whatever i'm feeling here is rather stagnant, these on a screen, they are in fact just "words". I'm sure there is a real life human being behind the words, typing away, expressing their innermost thoughts on the subject just as clearly as a person does, but it doesn't hide the disapointment when the words stop, when the user behind the words is gone without a response. The way I look at this is a betrayal and causes distrust in the machine and in the my own cognitive self for having let something so cold harm me in such a way i feel like normal comminication and trust is broken by bad experiences. I can stand up and spout to whoever is listening just how bad a day i've had and i may get some chipper responses. That's not the point, because it's this annoynimity that causes us to let our guard down. We open up, or in some cases "fess up" to things we hardly ever would to real people. Random thoughts that start somewhere and end somewhere else without much connection, become' after a while  uninteresting and you'll lose alot of the  "punch" you originally intended.

I'm good at sidetracking..anyway..

My friend from US is back and made me laugh at what dorks we are, so i can't complain about the momentary happiness that produced. I'm sure in the end i'll be disappointed when it disolves, but i should be the optimistic person i proclaim to be.

Either way life is futile and we all end up the same, so at least i have something i know for sure.

You'll never get over this.

That was my hand to hold. That was my heart to own. That was my soul to take down into the deepest reaches of debauchery and carnal decay. It's my partner in this devil's dance, in this savage garden of lies.

You never announce your run. You never made a sacrifice. So this feels like letting go of someone's hand. Doesn't it?

Speechless.

You think I would have blogged sooner. Or at least more frequently. Somethings I was blogging about ended, at least in a future-sense. So so much as happened, yet I have remained speechless. I don't know why.

I looked at it as a fresh start, a clean slate, a blank piece of paper. This time, I know where the road go, I recognise some of the faces, I'm not naive to the pretentiousness or the narcissm that flows down the streets like an open sewer.

I guess I know what to expect. I'm not bitter, perhaps I wish that I was somewhere else... I'm just speechless. Perhaps I wasn't even ready.

What I've learned (latest edition)

Relationships, this is a big one though along the way, got my heart broken, but discovered the followings: Creative man are generally only good for one thing. They are always good for that one thing, but don't hold your breathe for more. If it happens, great... question it, but don't push it away, and above all, don't expect it. I am pretty much an expert at this point. I told myself at the beginning of the year I wasn't dating any more creative guys, I am keen on keeping it that way. Creative + guys = Run, and don't look back. No matter how much you care about someone, if they can walk away from you, let them go. Hanging on to someone will only make them run away faster. Let them go. As hard as it is to believe, eventually you will meet someone else whom you like just as much or more, and bonus- they will be trying to be with you too.

Love, isn't this one fun. I have discovered that you can know almost from the start who you will love, or could love eventually. Often this is mistaken for love, but it's not. Love is not definable. It changes in every situation so don't try to define it, and don't look for it. If you love everyone you date after a month, you probably don't really love all of them, either you are horny, or you are confusing your ability to love them one day, with loving them now. Loving someone requires sacrifice, you have to care about them more then you care about yourself without losing yourself. You won't have a healthy relationship until you know who you are, loving yourself, and knowing what you want.

Friendship, as I mentioned before I have really grown in alot of my friendships, my friends are my family, with those that I can go 3 months without talking to them and then just pick up right where we've left off are absolutely the best. They are the ones who stand by you, and the ones you will have the longest relationships of all.

So then, are some more realizations I have come to lately.

Hot! Stewing in own juices.

The weather is taking a serious toll on me in my every day life at this point, too hot to do a damn thing, especially things I need to do.  A lot of my friends are in rough situations too, so, in my own paranoid way, I am making a connection between this copious amount of hot days and the general decline of myslef and my friends.  I feel tired, hot and pissed all the time, even A.C. isn't much of a consolation, since I know eventuallly I will have to venture out again. It needs to rain too, but every time after it rained it didn't seem to help the heat, it just got more humid.

I'm buying a space station to live on as soon as I'm a Made Man.

Don't beg the question.

The horrible truth is it's all useless. The name. The face. You'll forget it in the fall. Iwonder what's more important. The memory or knowing nothing at all. You've polished your skin. Gave into the self-destructive thoughts. And I watched you all along. I would buried you in the melting snow.

Pavement.

Sometimes when I think back in my life I wonder what happened to the things and the places that make me who I am. The friends I had as a kid. The long and dark pavement grown with bushes along both side park that I walked through to get to school. How everytime it rained the canal would fill up and water would overflow onto the bridge, how I was almost too afraid to cross because I pictured myself being carried away.

This as much as i could remembered during my childhood. Everything seemed like a dream.

The consequences of life and love...

I recently heard that random smiling and keeping a grin on your face can actually affect your brain chemistry for the better. So I decided to try it today. Sitting at the airport lounge having and smiling away. Then I started feeling a little better about waking up early on catching my weekly day trip to KL. I smiled after my meetings, work and throughout most of the day and I started thinking about how glad I am to be alive and how lucky I am. It works, wierd. Attitude is really everything, so, yay.

When I touched down back home this evening, I received a shocking message from my youngest brother telling me that he is getting a divorce. I called immediately to find out what had happened. I could hear him crying across the line, and after hearing him, I said to him: "If you've did your best and it's not good enough for her, let her go". But why? You see, there is nothing you can do or change when someone said to you that they have feelings for someone else... and these are the words the had tore my heart into pieces. I know actually how my brother had felt at that moment and if there's anything that I could do for him now to make him overcome this pain, I would.

I read this from a poetry book a friend gave me 3 years ago. After talking to my brother, I picked it up again like I did 8 months ago to read about the consequences of life and love...

"Maybe God wanted us to meet the wrong people before meeting the right one, so that when we finally meet the right person, we will know how to be grateful for that gift. Maybe when the door of happiness closed, another opens, but often times we look so long at the closed door that we don't see the one which has been opened for us. Maybe the best kind of friend is the kind you can sit on a porch and swing with, never say a word, and then walk away feeling like it was the best conversation you've ever had. Maybe it is true that we don't know what we have got until we lose it, but it is also true that we don't know what we have been missing until it arrives."......

....."Giving someone all your love is never assurance that they will love you back. Don't expect love in return; just wait for it to grow in their heart: but if it does not, be content it grew in yours. It takes only a minute to get a crush on someone, an hour to like someone, and a day to love someone, but it takes a lifetime to forget someone. There are moments in life when you will miss that someone so much that you just want to pick them from your dreams and hug them for real. Dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go; be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do."......

....."May you have enough happiness to make you sweet, enough trails to make you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human, enough hope to make you happy. Always put yourself in others' shoes. If you feel that it hurts you, it probably hurts the other person too. The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way. Happiness lies for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched, and those who have tried, for only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives. Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss and ends with a tear. The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past, you can't go on well in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches. When you were born you were crying and those around you were smiling, live your life so when you die, you will be the one smiling and those around you will be crying."

There you go, an end to a cheesey sequence of the two big hemispheres of my brain and a broken marriage.

A thought.

It's profound, the way that life escapes you when you're chasing loss.  Not until you stop and give up can you truely walk. It's never enough. 

My dreams and smoke screens.

A lot had happened since I last poured it all out of my fingers through the keys and onto the screen on this thing. Last saturday I went to a wedding which I total forgot about it until the very day. Obviously leading up to that I can't really say I'd been looking forward to it at all, namely for selfish reasons though. It was a nice wedding however serving a 13 course that such gluttony should be made illegal. For the most part, that wedding reception conjured up feelings in me that I don't even want to think about. Primarily a distant bitter sense of distrust and a knowing smug grimmace at the face of everlasting faithfulness until death do us part so on and forth. Although I think it's something I'd like to try someday. But what i've learned through my own experiences in combination with what I've learned from watching family, friends and relatives split up in combination again with the occasional piece of advice regarding marriage delivered unto me by my father amidst some sort of marital predicament or other (which usually amounts to something to the effect of 'don't do it') is that most peoples' chances of keeping happy and monogomous until death are all but slim to none. I think i've learned over the past years that if I really want to, most of the time I can shake off my stints of depression by just focusing and doing something productive or beneficial to myself or to other people...i e riding on the ambulance with the squad. I feel doubt and futility there less than i do anywhere else. Now i just want to know what it is that i can use to help restore my sense of faith in humanity to the point that i might keep in my heart this dream to someday settle down and make a humble happy home with someone i love. i want to know what it is that'll get me to confidently look forward to my tenth and twentieth and thirtieth wedding anniversaries instead  of my midlife crisis with a couple of kids in middle school and a subsequent divorce hearing and then circling back around and starting all over in my late thirties or fourties or fifties finding myself right back where i am now tyring to re-partner up and hopefully still die happy and fulfilled only now with one long about resulting in an 0&1 record with regret but knowing I'll need to move on with things and do my best to not consider that I'd failed the ones i love.

I just want to die happy.

Being selfish isn't always a bad thing.

Seeing as I am with me all the time, it only makes sense that I would take care of myself as best as I can and as I see fit...

Sucks that we miscommunicate sometimes. I miss things. Important things. Like answers to questions that I need to know the answers to. Maybe it's the stars and planets that are to blame. Maybe it's me. Maybe it's you. Who knows? Maybe it's the noise around us that is preventing me from hearing. I don't know. Wish I did, because I'd blast it.

Feel exasperated and misunderstood and separated from things. My head hurts and I am sleepy, but my heart is churning and questions of the well being are flooding my mind... frustrated to say the least, but I let it go, figuring we would do something productive with our time.

I just simply wanted to be at home. I like it here. My hurry to come home? To remember who I am, because sometimes I forget and it helps to relearn myself as much as I can.

Forgiveness runs deep as a well in me and I understand... love love love you. You know i do.

Clearer.

So how do I say, it has been an amazing but crazy past 12 months... Things just have gotten way to mind boggling. Being away from the person that makes me me... I figure if I write about it, I can look back in a couple of weeks and hopefully know more of how I feel.. I have been reading more, looking at things way more clearly and ultimately changing in many ways, now how do I prove it. Thats a question I ask myself but I shouldn't force it, so I am in a hard place.

What is being happy? What makes someone happy? Seeing them happy makes me happy, and me being happy makes them happy? I don't know, these are few of the questions I have been asking myself. Maybe I read into too much.. but that's love!

It doesn't matter now.

When i think about the past it all amounts to hardly anything at all.....I didnt get the life i wanted though i am grateful for what i have... i really am. sadly, I didnt get the feelings i gave in returned. Not complaining.

The past talks, no wait it was the horrible silence that crept upon my ever waking moment...oh that "true blue to me" silence that would only be there for me... Seems like that is  the only thing true about the past. Why should i care.... but oh wait there was something there, maybe my heart.....

I should have listened to my instincts my judgement never could have been more dead on that i should never have requested anything so as that it wouldnt bother me. Foolishness got this knife stuck through my heart and i am the one to blame...not my past.

The only thing i can do now is do like i always say "wake up".... Seems kinda funny that i have to do that something i never thought i would have to do...and so that is what i should do.

Besides it doesnt matter now.

Gratification, I'm just fine.

Anyway, it has been brought to my attention that there seems to be something missing in me. I thought to myself WTF are you talking about. Then carefully examined myself (my previous blogs mentions the process and what I found, I won't reiterate it here).

Missing someone, someone whom brought so much light and love to my otherwise dead life. I also know that the one whom was writing the script on my blank pages of my heart, that stopped. Its partially what is missing.

Another key ingredient for what's been missing in me was self-gratification. My focus has been so scattered and drawn like a tight-rope. I don't like walking that line.

I am alot of things but I am not going down without a fight for myself. I know myself very, very well and the only thing I fear besides lizards, closed spaces and dark corners is losing myself to someone else or what they think I am. I should never have to prove my love or myself to anyone.

There are way to many opportunities in this world for one persons opinion of me to control me. I don't think I'm perfect, but I do deserve better then this.

There has to be more, and I got to take care of it....

I'm flustered. I am trying so hard to balance being a me and find somehow somewhere how to fit personal, intimate happiness into the mix. I don't know how other others do it. I am so burned out, maybe its just that its been going on for so long now that I have become accustomed to doing it all and not paying attention to my personal needs.

I have taken a step back and re-evaluated myself, my life and what I want. I want to work, be with someone, and be a friend; how do I manage to keep those all up in the air without losing some sacred part of me. I don't know what to do. Perhaps the need to simplify my life, cut all extraneous stuff and just be for a bit. I can't even do that!!! There are so many demands of my time and resources that I am absolutely spent.

I need a release, somewhere to fall, I know what I'm missing, I need to talk, I need to cry, I need to be held (emotionally works too) and just be a woman for a little while.

Is this desire?

Desire. Such a strange feeling. It infiltrates me almost constantly... I can usually get by just noticing the desire and allowing it to be there without necessarily acting on it right away...sometimes my desires are so huge there is no way to fulfill them that i can see. I've never been here before. I realize I can put my desire anywhere I choose. Doesn't have to be on anyone. Didn't fit anybodys desires, so that absolves mine completely...solves that problem. Trouble is, it hurts.

Wisen up and lift your chin. No more time to be wasted feeling shitty. We don't wallow here. But sometimes it feels good.

There's got to be more to life.

Have you ever felt numb to everything going on in your life? Do days or even weeks pass you by, and things just don't feel real or tangible? I find myself just kind of existing, but not in an actual reality. More of a feeling of being trapped in a dream that I can't wake up from. I'm waiting or searching for something, but I haven't a clue as to what it is. These days I suffer from sleep deprivation, which can actually cause serious mental issues, but I don't think my it is that severe. Maybe this lack of sleep is causing all my feelings of listlessness. Most of my friends know that I am not quite all there all the time, but they usually just let me exist in my own little world I guess you'd call it. When I get up and go into work, it doesn't feel as though it should for some reason. I'm there in my desk, but I'm not there. Yet I manage to retain as much as I supposed to be. At times, I feel like I need to get this out, but other times I just want to shut myself in. If anyone remembers me then, then you have an understanding of how I am alot now. Obviously its not quite that bad, but I do feel fried half the time. Like my brain and body are on overload, and at any moment I feel as though I could collapse. I know I'm not suicidal, but there are times that things have gotten so shitty that, while on the way to work, I would wish that my engine would blow up and take me out in a fiery mess of 70 mph flaming metal with music still playing on the stereo. Not possible, but still a bitching way to go.

Well I'm done for now.

Building with Fire: An Instruction Manual

The state of things artisically has started to confuse me. In general, things are starting to look on the up, but I get the feeling that people are starting to make art for art's sake, which is then not art. I've always envisioned art as an organic process: feeling and emotions combine with physical aspirations to create an abstract piece (or not so abstract) for viewing, listening, or sensory enlightenment. I don't think there's a lot of attempts to enlighten going on currently. I think it's more of people just shouting about what they think is right without considering the other half or simply put respect into the matter. You may have just asked what the hell I am talking about. I feel that art is a daily exercise and must include everything you do. This includes politics, attitude, music, movies, & actions most of all. Still lost? EVERYTHING YOU DO AND DON"T DO, SAY AND DON'T SAY, THINK AND DO NOT THINK MATTERS AND IS IMPORTANT. I am currently under the impression that more and more people are going out for themselves and nothing more. I am not saying that I have not acted in such a way before, but I am saying that I'm not going to be acting that way in the future.

I reall don't know what brought all that on right there. Man, do I like to ramble, but I felt like I wanted to get that off my chest after an artistic conversation with a friend.

I act like all this is the end of the world when I know damn well it's not, if anything I have great opportunities in front of me... but somehow I feel like I'm gonna end up letting someone down or someone's gonna get upset over something, and I don't want that.

Oh.. by the way, arm hurts! I hurt my arm by coughing too hard, the doctor thinks it's a bad muscle strain. What? From coughing?? This is so original.

Arm pain sucks, just like you.

Reasons knows nothing.

I don’t really understand this fascination with reason, years ago people just used to accept things. You know, like it rained because some god wanted it to, and you had good luck because you just earned it. No one was studying cloud patterns or attributing a good harvest to soil quality. But now, nothing can be done with out reason, or purpose. You get cancer, they want to know why you didn’t eat more vegetables, what carcinogens you exposed yourself to, where it could have come from.  Somewhere in the over-rationalization of everything, we tend to forget that sometimes, things just happen. And sometimes they happen for a reason.

Close by.

I fled. I had my own shades to deal with in this seemingly nightmarish world, in this misfit paradise for the unforgiven, in this world where the blacker the soul, the more power you had. I was dancing with the other dark nymphs, tasting their bittersweet tears as they kissed my open palms with their lucious lips....I was in paradise, until I recalled an image of that strange man...one of me, yet not.

What I feel like today.

Doesn't everyone sees each other differently? So when people look at me they never know how to take me. I know at times I can seem like the most happiest person alive and have a clear head to life but to understand the real story is something that most people can't except. Weren't we taught to except that life isnt always the greatest because whatever has and up has a bigger down fall. I have moments where life seems like its unbearable but I seem to make it out in the end but how do you know when your breaking point is about to stab.....You dont. You just hold on for the ride and when you fall, you get back up and start over again. Or is that why we tend to fool ourselves with do we really get back up? Can it be possible to be fallen and be shattered beyond repair? Or is it possible that you fall to separate yourself from who was what you once were? Just the empty shell getting back up to present a front to fool those who are weak.......possibly of you.

One year.

One year. It's usually a milestone, usually happy, and usually celebrated. It's the day you count down to and look forward to...usually. What happens when that one year milestone comes around, and you wish you didn't remember? What if it was the worst day of your life, and you'd give anything to erase it? What if, after one year, you could still remember every single detail- who was there, what they wore, what everything smelled and tasted like, and everything that you felt- and each one haunted you? What if you could still re-live it, just as if it were happening again? What kind of release would you choose, and would you regret the words you'd said, after that one year milestone had passed?

Invisible Me

Typical question-type blog exordium: How is it that you can spend so much time with someone you love during some extraordinarily surreal piece of your life and then wake up one day, discover you're alone, and slowly realize your one-time love is trying painfully hard to pretend you don't exist?

Typical devinsm-type interjection: That's screwed up.

Typical bullshit and drawn out riposte during which I over analyze my life and most of the collateral damage it's caused: Who knows? Seriously. Maybe it's better to ask how someone can claim they can't live without you and then later not even answer your phone calls and insist on only comminucating over text messages. Really it's a fucking wonder I'm not institutionalized by now I feel like a basketcase.

At first I blamed myself. You know, typical boo hoo I'm a douchebag, it's my fault, I ruined eveything, etc...then I blame you too. Was I really a victim of lusty banter? Did I buy into false hope? (here comes the million dollar question...) did I finally take that chance on a relationship again and find a love that I trusted would overcome all barriers only to come out feeling like the biggest hopeless romantic and biggest dupe of this century? Pretty much.

It's a shame...I usually like to end my blogs on a happy note or revelation or even at least a conclusion but I'm late and frankly out of effort as well.

I have a world of love to give, you just won't accept it. Still!

Perhaps a verse to help state my curse.

"Language just happened it was never planned and it's inadequate to describe where I am in a room in a house where the lights never bend waiting for this day to end. And the clocks keep on winding and completely ignore everything that we hate or adore when the page of a calander turns it's no more. So tell me then what was it for?"

This adequately sums up some of the many things I think about human existence. Ordinarily i'm not one to so blatantly quote at length another writer's work, but this is just one of those verses that really makes me think about things every time it pops into my head...or maybe it's the other way around. But even still, i believe that advanced verbal communication is the only significant difference between human beings and most other life on earth, and that from that is derived this vast spectrum of emotions that we are able to experience and chalk up to the posession of this thing we call a soul...something else i'm not sure I believe in.

Men around the house.

I hear my girlfriends ranting about their partners, that drives me nuts and bored me to tears - the listening part! i honestly have no answer for any of it and lately it came about men around the house. of course i can't help but to think about some useless past just for notes exchanging session since i have no one to rant about these days... now one of the classic ones...

Why is it that men don't just hire other men to do the work around the house that they are really not qualified to do themselves? They will spend hours, literally hours, doing the same thing over and over again, still not fixing the problem, getting angrier and angrier; swearing, yelling, demanding "why?" and never think to themselves..."Hey, I don't know what I am doing, perhaps I should call a Professional.

Wait, let me rephrase that... they will spend hours "fixing" something they don't have the first clue even how to fix, getting angrier and angrier, until they make it worse, then it is really broken and then they finally have no other choice, they have to call a Professional. Usually then it will end up costing three times as much as it would have to just call the Professional who probably would have fixed the original problem in one-to-three hours, without the drama.

Some men like to think they are capable fixing anything...I think they like to get themselves upset over these things.  Otherwise, at the first sign of "Hey I have no idea" they would pick up the phone and make the smart call. Now I know there are probably certain men somewhere out there who call the Professional right away when they know they are not qualified for the job, so I don't assume all of you...just speaking from my own experiences in general.

There is no shame in being intelligent about solving life's problems, and the most intelligent thing to do is get a Professional's help!  If you don't know what you are doing get help; call a Professional, read a manual...don't just get mad and make the problem worse. Just file this under "a woman's common sense."

And you wouldn't be sinking in the mud from your clouded tears.

But nothing. You thought that your forgotten seniority would bolster you through this ordeal? I am no dancing dyrad, regardless of how the Heartfelt one made me move. I am no curvaceous succubus ready to take you in my arms and lock hands with you. I am better than that. In this world, I have little control when I whispered with tears falling from my eyes as I looked at you, remember yourself and remember that you could have had me...but you, your foolishness and greedy oaf, were already holding another's hand. You could have been holding mine.

I had never seen this side of my Prize.

A box of silence.

Behind me, my loyal imps laughed with simple, malicious delight at my bumbling move. I looked at them and shrugged, thinking about how little I needed this precious one, when I could put their many hands to use to hold me up....I couldn't stand much longer, especially not when the day of the murdered saint was about to come...the day when all the blood from ancient forbidden love would rain down on the skies and bathe those who found no shelter in one another with unrelenting force...when the winds of bitterness would drive the droplets right into our eyes, into our minds, and make us remember what it was like to hold someone's hand.

Aiko.


And World, if you're listening, I have never stopped loving you. My flame-insane which once burned so brightly has dwindled to the barest flickering candle in these bitterest of the coldest winds. But I promise, I am guarding it with my life, and it will never, ever go out. With closed eyes, I am dancing, awaiting the return of the Spring to my heart.  

If only you were lonely.

During my long drive, i was able to accept and understand many things about myself.

I'm not the kind of person who jumps head first into a relationship. I like being smothered with phone calls but i don't like committing myself to anything that i don't feel is going to be worth it in the long haul. I've gotten better at returning phone calls to most everyone. I'm usually terrible at that but upon doing so, I've become very busy however I also want to commit myself to the good friends i have.

My point is, as much as i say i'm lonely, i think what i really want is to be loved by and close to my friends. it's not romantic, but it does fill in the blank zones i tend to find.

We always want what we can never have, but we torture ourselves by exposing ourselves to that very thing. Maybe because we hope, or maybe because it just makes us feel better knowing that we're still close with that we want. In my case, the fact of the matter is that love can come in so many forms. Sometimes it's less defined, and sometimes it's said out loud.

Relationships a weird thing in general. The line between friends, lovers, and acquaintances are often blurred and sometimes, perhaps that's necessary. Rambling, i know.  but this has been an extremely out of the blue week for me. It was good to spend time with family, friends and by myself with nothing less familiar around me.

Nature vs Nurture

I'm not going to lie and say that this post was spontaneous. This has been a long time coming. Nature vs nurture is something that weighs heavily on my mind, but for different reasons that many people have for discussing it. Such as, is the serial killers lust for blood because he was born without a conscience, or because his mother did not hug him? Or the ever famous is a gay born a gay or does the things that his parents expose him to make him gay.

"You weren't enough" was the overtone of the argument. This goes back more than a decade. See I did as I always do and I filled myself with hope that it would be different this time, but people do not change. Their spots remain the same. Unfortunately, he will remain dear to my heart as he always has, but now he is bathed in a new light that will not let me forget. I am thankful for that.

Back to the nature vs nurture comment, and theme of this rant. Some people grow up being told that they are the center of their parents world. I did not hear this growing up. I always felt that I was more a burden than a joy. At the slightest issue in my youth I was told repeatedly how worthless I was. It is possible that I am only remembering the bad parts of my childhood but cest la vie. So compound that with every breakup, some because of me, the others I still feel were my fault. I was not enough. If you flash back a few years to a time when I was happy in a new relationship that I held much hope in. (This, again is not the only thing that contributed to the way I feel, just another example).  I did not have a care in the world. I was not cautious as I should have been. I almost gave it all up.

The last attempt at happiness was a complete folly on my part. The truth was hidden and brought to light and before I walked away I was not enough for that.

So my nature (and close friends) tell me that I am an amazing person. I have a lot of love to give for the right person. My passion is great and I throw myself in to things with all my heart.

Nurture tells me that I am not enough. Events long past surface when people start to speak of the ways that I cannot make them happy. It is like a bad dream as faces flash inside my eyes of the many men that have spoken nearly to the letter the same words. Faces blend together and they become one voice, one face. Many of them beg my friendship as a consolation prize, it is a request that I have granted to few.

I am told by many that the man who completes me is out there. The one that will be there, due to nurture pulling ahead I do not believe them. Another in a string of worthless words that will haunt me as they walk away. Many of them have left me to find their true happiness. I can not begrudge them this but their words echo in my head all the same.

In conclusion, nature vs nurture in my life are waging a war, and fortunately, I've learnt that nature should win sometimes.

12,000 Feet. Sometimes words just aren't enough...

My loves told me these....when I looked into their black round eyes.

I received this and I thought it's lovely for the night...and when I looked into the both of you're eyes, I couldn't agree more, and more. Gonna miss my babies while I'm away.

1. My life is likely to last 10 to 15 years.  Any separation from you will be very painful.
2. Give me time to understand what you want of me.
3. Place your trust in me -it is crucial for my well-being.
4. Don't be angry with me for long, and don't lock me up as punishment. 
5. You have your work, your friends, your entertainment.  I HAVE ONLY YOU!
6. Talk to me.  Even if I don't understand your words, I understand your voice when it's speaking to me.
7. Be aware that however you treat me, I'll never forget it.
8. Before you hit me, remember that I have teeth that could easily crush the bones in your hand, but I choose not to bite you.
9. Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative, ask yourself if something might be bothering me.  Perhaps I'm not getting the right food, I've been sick, or my heart may be getting old and weak.
10.Take care of me when I get old.  You, too, will grow old.
11.Go with me on difficult journeys.  Never say, "I can't bear to watch it" or, "Let it happen in my absence."  Everything is easier for ME if you are there. Remember, I love you.

Small thoughts; Selectively permeable

Today, I was wondering why I bother to write about the trivial matters of my life or endlessly rant about the trivial thoughts I'm having. This is live, but I don't always... okay... ever make it interesting to the reader or even worth being read another time, by myself. I guess that this form of expression is kind of for records, partly for communication, maybe to hear myself talk, but mostly cathartic and somewhat masturbatory. Well, I guess masturbation and catharsis go hand in hand. If you tell your ideas to yourself, they'll be well-received; existence validated. A piece of paper or a monitor is eternally receptive. Better than a best friend. Unless, of course, you have a best friend that loves to read what you write. And, of course, unless your best friend can write back to you, and you can't wait to read it. Ah, now that's true love.

Sometimes I remember that I had suffered from pneumonia some years back that had put me in coma for several weeks, a spot was found in my right lung. But I am alright now. Eversince, I suspect that I might have a slight hearing problem ( I don't know how this could tie-up); or at least a problem deciphering unclear speech and sounds. It's not a big deal, except for I say, "What?" when people are mumbling. It's definitely not serious enough for a hearing aid, and I think it's more of a cognitive thing than it is purely auditory. When I finally woke up from my long sleep, I got into a bad depression as I already have memory lost which the doctor advised as "selective memory". The hearing thing had also become like "selective hearing", I was told later.

So, for lack of a reflective material to shine myself upon, I'll happily take this tablet. Here I go again: Someone recently told me that I come off as emotionally detached; I've been outra-specting (new word) to find what the meaning of that is and whether or not it's true. Then, I can bother with what it implies and whether or not it's bad.

An Electric Love in Her Eyes.

The fit.

This is what I would have written about us many years from now...a thousand piece jigsaw and we have 999 pieces that came with the box. We put the border together first, that was the easy part while the guts of the puzzle was a truly rewarding struggle.

There was one piece missing; it didn't come with the box.

The puzzle would sit be sitting there looking imperfect and some would ask why is there a missing piece?

Perhaps one day, instead of locating that mass produced perfect fit, we would fashion our own very piece. A piece that while rough around the edges would fit more snug, more tight and sure that every time when we looked at it would make us smile because it's our piece.

Perhaps one day, we would have our story to tell. We have a jigsaw that in 999 ways is like everyone elses, but the most important piece, the piece that would stand out apart from the rest, the piece that everyone's eyes would be drawn to - would be us.

Meet in space.

I have been immersed in a worm-hole of inspirationlessness. For the past several weeks, I have had some of the most peculiar dreams of my life. Generally, these are the times when I am receiving the highest amounts of inspiration for creativity or just living in general. But I think the abundance and availability of many other things had severely supressed that. My overall mood and perception in general has been positive and optimistic as usual, but overall more vague and indifferent than usual as if put under a numbing spell. I did however get an early start on planning my winter activities. Been swimming a over the past weeks... keeping in shape and I think Im going to take some advice and throw away my television. I think I'm also going to throw away a single vice, so that my mind can become clear again.

Mistakes.

I read it somewhere it says that when you think life keeps throwing you the same shit, you find yourself keep repeating the same mistake, repeating the same unsatisfying life that drives you round and round was simply because you have not learnt its lesson that is why life gives you the same lesson again and again and when you've learnt and accept, you will find things going along your way then you're happier where better things will fall into place for you. Simply true and easy.

Lately i have experienced a lot of both unhappiness and happiness. I choose to stay positive and on a good day, i don't even remember what was it that's bothering me. I think I like it this way, spontaneous always even if it's a roller coaster ride for now as i know deep down, I will never apart because I had never fall together.

They said things happen for a reason whereas i also believe that reason knows nothing. Making mistakes are good, take your time. Live and learn. Make peace with your soul. Realize that people come into our lives that some to make you see what not to become while others would inspire you to become a better one.

To harp and living with the past? I would smile and said, it is overrated.

Break Time... wtf does that mean?!

Ok. So I just found out that a galfriend lately is going through a "break" in her relationship. Don't we hear that often every now and then? First off, I have to ask....what is the point of a break in a relationship? I mean, it seems to me that thats just delaying the inevitable. I've never understood the purpose of a "break". Its like saying... "I want to be with you, but just not for this amount of time." Ummm.. Right. If you've reached the point in your relationship where you feel you need a "break" from your partner, to be single again for a little bit.... I think that its pretty much obvious that the relationship just isn't meant to be.

Breaks also seem like a way of avoiding the problem to me. "Ok, well, we can't agree on a few things, so we need a break. Maybe all the problems won't be there when we return." Di Di Di! Just because you ignore it, doesn't mean its going to magically go away.

Ok, so.. we've gotten past the point that relationship "breaks" are pointless. But lets pretend we go on and do it anyway. Now you have to figure out what the rules are. Does the break mean you're single again? Or does it mean you have a partner still, but you're being suspended from each other? You know, all the cons and non of the pros. Well, that seems pretty pointless, doesn't it? So they say absence makes the heart grows fonder. Is that what a "break" is supposed to do? Make you appreciate your partner even more? Hmmm.... I don't know, ahaha. It all seems like crap to me.

Another question, still on the subject of "breaks". Lets pretend you have a couple who are relatively happy in their relationship, majority of the time. Every relationship has its problems, thats to be expected. But then lets say this happy couple gets into an argument the day before the happy boy is scheduled to go away with a bunch of other boys to a place the happy girl won't be, but lots of other girls will be. Now, the happy girl trusts her happy boy about as much as any female can trust a male. So she's obviously already worried about the upcoming time apart. Then, her happy boy says "We need to take a break. We can talk after I come back." Well what is a gal to think then?! Doesn't that just screams!!... 'I don't want to be with you' or rather 'I want to be free to fuck around this weekend, but I want you here waiting for me when I'm done.' How lamed can it get?

Be realistic, to me a "break" literally means walking away from you. History. Which may not be something bad. I mean there are people who can walk away from you and when they do their "breaks", I've learned to let them walk. I won't even try to talk another person into staying with me, loving me, calling me, caring about me, coming to see me, or staying attached to me. I believe when people can walk away from you, your destiny is never tied to those that had left. It might be made manifest that they were not for us somehow or rather. Don't people leave because they are not joined to you and it shouldnt be too hard to figure that if they are not joined to you, you can't make them stay. Doesn't mean that they are a bad person but simply that their part in the story is over, and you've got to know when people's part in your story is over so that you don't keep trying to raise the dead.

Now, you've got to know when it's over.

I've got the gift of good-byes. It's my seventh sense gift, I believe in good-byes. If you are holding on to something that doesn't belong to you and was never intended for your life, holding on to the past that hurts and pains, If someone can't treat you right, love you back, and see your worth, struggling with the healing of a broken relationship, trying to help someone who won't even try to help themselves, depressed and stressed.......damn it, you better wake up now! Help yourself.

Bleh.. Ok.. I'm done rambling, for now. I've still got plenty to bitch about on this topic...burn it and I've got more important stuff to do next.

Cleansed.

Such a wonderful evening last night... I dived into the pool, it was my kind of pool size for me to do a typical 15 laps. The water was perfect. I was floating with my eyes shut thinking what life would be like if I was still lingering the kind of same lifestyle I used to have. It, I would called it a little sense-less. The past couple of years, I thought I had found true friendships which I had strongly bond with doing things together on weekends in and out, the usual stuff, the usual suspects and when it all crumbles, I was lost for a while...look, my social support was gone, what I thought was good for me turns out to be the opposite. The past had been a real hindrance of my future. I am glad that now that is over. In a mere little more than a couple of months, I am doing way better then what I did for the last couple of years. So much that I've missed all these time. Where was I?

We sat by the pool, all the bbq food, salads, champagne, our each invented cocktails, music flowing from the glass house, endless and endless laughter between the few close friends. Something about where I am right now just feels right. i think i was fighting life too much and letting myself fall short of these expectations and hopes i had. Now i've let go of myself and drifted into this blissful abyss i've always known to be here. Call it a dark period or call it nothing at all. For some reason i'm happier than i was before.

I think i'll stay for a while, ahhh....

Dating in the concrete swamp.

So here I sit on a Friday night, typing away at the keyboard. The only male in the vicinity of me is my two lovely dogs curled up next to me. Me, laying comfortably on the bed in the whites. It is obvious I am not dating. 

Some people are perplexed by this. However, the fact is that I am where I would like to be for tonight. There are certain things about being curled up next to the male species all cozy that warms me to my toes. Even if the male species has four legs. 

I was in a conversation with some galfriends about accidental dating and was described to me as "hooking up". The hooking up being that a male and female meet, chat, flirt, and eventually hook up. But hooking up could mean all manner of things. It could mean smacking out with a guy, your tongue with his or it could mean getting busy somewhere. Either way, it is apparent that casual sex is everywhere. It was somewhat disurbing as they discussed how hooking up was better than battling it out or waiting for Mr. Right. Some girls seemed as intent on "hittin it" at the guys. Somewhat disturbing. Their cavalier attitudes about sex lead me to believe that most likely, the 20 and 30 something generation will not produce many happy marriages or children. 

Also disturbing about this- has anyone noticed that STD's once thought to be eradicated are on the rise?  Syphillis, gonorrhea, herpes, and HIV are not going away.  With casual sex happening so often, people are apparently not protecting themselves. Our generation will either be dead, have no child to carry on the family name, or diseased prior to populating the country again.

And a final note to leave you with - However, with so many things to think of health wise, monogomy makes a whole lot of sense to me afterall. Not to mention the moral issues. The sanctity of marriage and such.  I'm not at all desperate for anything like that however to start with, lately I feel like I am ready to commit myself again as much as I enjoy my freedom, I can't wait to share again and love...the imperfecture of the one I love. And I will save that for another soap box night. For now, I am headed to dream land.......

What I think...

Beautitful isn't it that I can sit here in my home and write exactly what's on my mind without feeling the need to hide or control my mouth? Ok, so here's what I think on random subjects......

Quality of life....Medications to sustain a stupor is not quality of life. Keeping someone so drugged up that they don't know their pathetic mind hurts and everyone that's involved. Sad but true. Quality of life does not mean that you should be in pain or that you should not understand. Quality is what you want for your life not what others decide.

Sexuality....As a woman, I own my sexuality. I will not be silenced about what I want or need from an intimate relationship. I as a woman have the right to choose who invades my body (that sounds bad) and to ensure that all areas of myself are fulfilled. I am a woman with feelings, needs and emotions. I am not afraid to talk openly about sex with my partner, I should not feel ashamed of aiding in others personal growth toward a healthy sex life (even if it means I talk to men about it).

Love.....It is an emotion, a feeling, a connection. It takes two people involved to maintain those feelings. Beyond all that, it is a choice, it is a choice to give to it even when you don't feel it, to hold on to it through the rough spots and choose to accept it when it is given back. Feeling in love is fleeting, its what you make of it when its not there that matters the most.

Relationships....Commuication is key. I have learned through my work that it is so important to not sweat the little things. I have been myself many times that learning to take things as they come, to be responsible for yourself, choosing your battles, having a sense of humor, and forgiveness are all components to maintaining a relationship. Furthermore, it is a choice to remain in them everyday. Somedays its harder then others, but in the end the choice to stay is always yours. 

Knowledge....is what you take from it. I prefer to continuously learn. I want to know, learn and live my life to the best it can be. Without knowledge, I would be little more than a primate.

So there you go, just a short list of my opinions for the night.