Sitting here drinking my wine, or as I finish my wine, I just think of what to write. I think I just may have another glass of wine as I contemplate this latest entry that I’m struggling through.

I’ve already finished a private entry just before this one and I want to continue writing. I actually thought about what to write and what to say, but for the life of me, I just can’t remember what it is that I wanted to say.

What is there to say? I honestly don’t know.

What did I write in that oh so private entry, nothing. Just about a party I went to the other night and that very cute girl that I met. But besides that, there really isn’t much to say.

I thought that there would be much to say. Maybe there is. Maybe there isn’t.

I guess I just need to write about just moving on in general. Again, I got the answer to my question, but it’s been a week since my reply. Should I go on and keep waiting for a reply or should I just let it go. If she doesn’t want to keep in touch anymore, why force her? Why? The last thing I want to do to her or anyone is to force her to do something that she doesn’t want to do. If she doesn’t want to keep in touch. Fine with me.

I will just move one and treat the days like any other. I’ll just go on and treat her like any other. A old friend that I will miss and hopefully one day meet again. If not, then well, I guess we weren’t meant to be friends afterall.

I finally got the true story as to what happened and I do have to say that I did find some parts surprising and others as expected as a 9 month pregnant woman.

I think it is just time for me to finally let go. Nothing can be taken away from this except that fact that I did something. I actually made an effort. I actually tried in some way. It just didn’t work out for me, that’s all. Maybe it will be better another time with another girl. Just maybe.

The party I went to. It was for my friend Jill’s birthday. It was a small intimate gathering with a lot of booze. I had a great time there. We all know that I do have problems with socializing and meeting new people and partying. I was surprised at myself for having such a good time, especially in a room full of strangers except for Jill and Susan, who left early.

I held my own. I enjoyed myself. I had a great time. Besides, the company helped. It helped a lot. It made the time pass by more quickly, and it just made everything that much better.

I do have to say that I surprise myself day in and day out with my new found glory. Where have this confidence, where have this something been all of my life?

Maybe I just am a late bloomer. Maybe I just finally gotten to be me.

Well, I don’t know what to write anymore. I think the wine is causing a writer’s block that I never thought about having. It is just causing me to not think of anything else to add to this little entry. I think I will call it a night.

I met a girl the other night, Wednesday night as a matter of fact. It was at Jill’s birthday party.

At first, I didn’t want to go, but I thought about me wanting to be social and about it’s been a while since I’ve met up with Jill, so I went. It was a good idea. I actually had a good time there.

The party was a small intimate crowd of friends of Jill’s.

There she was. Drew with a last name that I cannot pronounce or spell. She’s cute. Very cute. She looks like a brunette Kirsten Dunst. I know I don’t like Kirsten Dunst, but Drew puts Kirsten to shame.

We just talked sporadically throughout the night. Weaving in and out of conversation. Me joining others as she does the same, but then we would always come back.

I don’t know what it was so easy or why I enjoyed myself there that night. Maybe I was just being myself and trying to have a good time, trying to get into conversations and what not. Maybe it was just her.

I had fun.

I talked and talked with Drew. I made her laugh and she made me laugh.

I believe she’s going to New York over the weekend to meet a guy who likes to wear corduroy suits. From my understanding, he goes to Harvard and is getting his MD and his PhD. Very ambitious. I believe it is her friend that set them up.

Drew is Jill’s old friend from high school. She grew up I don’t know where, but somewhere close to Redlands.

I’ve also met other people there. Margo was cool. She was a cool hipster. We ended up talking about stuff, about Chinese and where I’m from and what not. I even told her about dad passing.

I don’t know. I’ve changed so much, especially with the whole social aspects of my life. It just comes so easy to me now. Sure, grant it I still don’t go out as much as I should, but I’m making an effort to go out.

Then there is Leina, Jill’s boss at her temping assignment. She’s all right. Very cool and laid back. She looks a lot like Chloe Sevigney. For some reason, I get the idea that she has a intense stare or eye connection, especially with me. It’s kind of unsettling. Not in a bad way, but in a mysterious way, as in ‘What is it you are looking at?’ kind of way.

Anywho, I had a lot to drink that night, but I did fine.

Again, Drew, she’s so cute. I actually touched her. I told Lisa about it and she called me cad. What does cad mean?

cad: n. An unprincipled, ungentlemanly man. [Short for caddie.] –cad

Everybody needs sometime on their own. That is the feeling that I’m getting right now. I feel free to do whatever I want now. Free. So this is how it is to be free? How typical.

Now that I am free from whatever that has help me captive for the past couple of years, what will I do with my new found freedom? Sometimes I need some time on my own. Sometime I need some time on my own goes the song sung by Axel. I am just going to do my own thing. This isn’t a stretch from what I’ve been doing for the past couple of years, but it is a millennium away from my life then.

Shhhh. Listen. Freedom. The bells are ringing. Freedom is ringing. I am free to search for myself again, even though I feel found. There’s been a while there that i know I was lost and it was getting frightening, but I see the light. I see the vast ocean in front of me.

It sways there oh so beautiful in its deep magnificent mysterious glory. Something so familiar and so beautiful seems so dangerous and mysterious. The deep treasures that hides itself in the ocean makes it more irresistible.

It makes a man who doesn’t know how to swim want to strip naked of all things and just dive in and take a chance. I want to jump in and do whatever it is I need to do to survive in the ocean. Maybe I’ll grow gills and fins and become a fish.

I got the news the other day. Things are changing. It wasn’t as surprising as it was. I was more surprised by the lack of blood on my end. I thought I would have been more wounded, but it seems when you have nothing left to bleed there shouldn’t be a problem.

I am dry. I am hung dry in this little game, but I see something in my future. The never ending rain that tapdanced on my window the night that the news came to me. The rain that cried my tears for me cause I know I couldn’t anymore. It just doesn’t hurt anymore, cause I’ve felt all there was to felt oh so long ago.

I think at this point in my life, being alone is just the best way to do. Get my things in order. Be a little selfish. Maybe when I’m 50, I’ll be ready to be in a relationship. By then, only the important thing will matter. Dentures.

I’ve crashed so many times but this time it just feels different. The other times, I sat idley by waiting for my demise, but this time, I fought it. I took action, but unfortunately the accident was out of my hands. It was beyond my capabilities. It was out of my hands. All I could do was hold on and hope for the best. I survived. I’m walking. I’m talking. I’m living. And most of all, I’m OKAY.

Walking down the street the other day, I noticed a little dog on the corner of the road. It looked so lost and helpless, yelping at the passing cars trying to get anyone’s attention to take it home. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. I was there once. I couldn’t go back there again. So I just walked on, ignoring it.

I walked down the street again today. The dog was gone. Where did it go? I don’t know. I can only hope that a nice woman decided to help it. Gave it a chance to live and be the object of her affection.

Now I sit here just thinking and typing nonsense just for the sake of writing something. Of just trying to put my thoughts together. I’ve been trying to write something for a while now and I haven’t been able to manage. I wanted to write about something I know, but yet, know nothing about.

I sit here listening to these artists sing their souls about love and what love is? What is love? I sit here like Heather Nova, dreaming away. Wanting to See the world like lovers do. But, I don’t think these cynical eyes can open themselves up to the beauty that is love.

Not anymore.

What these eyes see is nothing but green. The green of this world floods my vision. I’ll never see red again.

I sit here just reflecting on my life that was. All of the missed opportunities and all the mistakes that I’ve done. I see soem light and some of the joys and the beauty that was a part of my life. All I could do is smile at what I have become.

What have I become? I don’t know. A man or am I still that really really old boy that everyone tries to ignore? I know what I’ve become. I’ve become that nice guy that others push off to others. Oh so it seems.

I think that was just my bitterness and my jaded sense of being talking.

I’ve become more than that. I’ve become a man who have found his way in the darkness. A man who is not afraid to fall down in the endless abyss because he took a chance and he took a risk.

The risks I’ve taken has gotten me so far. Much more happier. Freer. Anger have left my soul. I’m slowly taking the steps that will lead to my maturity. Taking risks that I never thought that I could have taken. Taking the big steps that I should have taken oh so long ago. I’m growing up. So this is what it feels to grow up.

I’m at a lost for words. I don’t know what to say or what to write anymore, yet there is so much that is bursting to come out. Maybe there really isn’t much. Maybe I’ll write more later. Later. Later. There will always be later.

The day approaches where everything will change. The day approaches where all that is will cease to exist. The day approaches where a new life will be born. The day approaches.

Monday, October 18, 2004. Mark that day. That day will go down in history as the day of change. It will become another day “that lived in infamy.” It is the day of freedom, the day of insanity.

According to Coelho, to live is to be insane, to be in a asylum, being free to do what it is natural to you. There, everything makes sense whereas in reality, nothing makes sense. To be real, you have to be crazy.

But all in all, aren’t we all crazy. Aren’t we all being real in a sense, even though there’s a lot of a falseness in us all. We act, yet our acting is expected. What is expected is what is real.

I don’t know what is to come of this change, I don’t know what is to come of my new life. It is a mystery to me like all things that surrounds me. I am inquisitive and imaginative. I have a hint as to what is to come, but I am still not definite of what is to come.

Life is a mystery. It slowly unlocks itself as time goes by. To find the answer to the mystery, all we have to do is wait. Waiting has become a game between us. I wait for you, you wait for me. All we end up doing is waiting and wasting our life away.

Now is a time to make a move. Now is the time to take action and end this unhealthy waiting. Now is the time. Carpe diem. That is the day that is approaching. I will do what I must. All I fear is what is to come of it.

What will come of it? Ahhh, the million dollar answer that only one person know. Will it be good? Will it be bad? Only one person will know. It’ll quell any debates as to whether there is a light at the end of this tunnel.

For the longest time, I do believe there is. But being the pessimist that is me, I don’t know if there is any light anywhere. We are clouded by thick darkness that blinds us to our faults and keep our future a mystery.

Are you expecting something to happen? Do you already know what I’m going to do? Do you know what I’m going to say? Do you want to do what I want to do? Will you say yes? Will you say no?

A million questions and all there is only two answers. Yes. No. Which one will it be. Ini Mini Mieni Mo, catch a tiger by its toe….And the answer is…something that I don’t know.

I guess we will know soon. What should I do? What should I say? I’ve planned my escape for so long, I’ve planned this swan song for what seems like an eternity, and yet I am so unsure as what to say and how to say it?

Should I be honest? Should I play with my words? Or should I just be blunt and let it all out? I think I’ll figure something out when the moment will come. I always do. My impulse will be the death of me.

Being impulsive is my motto. I’ve been the most impulsive as of late, growing and making mistakes from my impulse. It has gotten me so far. It still hasn’t gotten me no where. I am still where I am so long ago.

Look what you’ve gone and done. You’ve made me feel something that I’ve always felt, but you also made me feel something that I’ve never felt, the desire, the burning passion to act on this feeling.

I’ve fallen to the bottom of the pits of hell and I’ve climbed myself up to the clouds of heaven. I’ve been through heaven and hell. I’ve been through most of life’s tortures, but this is the worst one of all. The not knowing. The waiting. The games that we all play.

I am cure when I’m by your side. I’m all right. I’m all right. That is how I feel. You see me. If you could see me, you know where I am. You put me on the map. You found me.

But did you find a ghost, or is it all of me? Who did you find? A person on the edge of reasoning or someone that is sure of what is to come; a person who is not afraid to take the risk that the great writers write so nakedly in their works?

Naked. This is how I stand before you. This is how I’ve always stood before you. Many may not know, but I know you do know. You see me. You see me. I’m a ghost to all others, but to you I am flesh and bone. I bleed when I’m pricked. I die when my heart breaks.

Heart breaks and heart aches comes natural to me. I am like everyone else. So heart breaks and heart aches comes natural to all. It is a part of life. Life is a giant love triangle or polygon or rhombus, square, octagon, hexagon, and any other shape. We love who we can’t have.

That is the saddest torture and the greatest lesson that life can teach you. You can’t have what you want. You got to let it go. You got to let it go. Many say, if you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, then you deserve it.

It makes me smile when I hear that. The falsity of it, yet the romantic yearning that comes with that saying. Things rarely come back when you give it away. It goes on to the new life that you gave it when you granted it its freedom. You’ll never see it again.

Driving with desire in a car I don’t know how to drive, where do I think I’m going when I have no control over what I’m doing or where I’m going or even the car I’m driving? Where am I going and where can a out of control man go?

I think that I am going the way that I am supposed to be regardless of what control I have over my life. I am doing the right thing. I am going where I need to go, even though I’m afraid to go somewhere I don’t know.

But it is nice to go to a strange place. You’ll see all the wonders and gifts this foreign land has to offer. You will adopt new customs and most of all, you will find out more about yourself. You will find a new threshold and ultimately find out a little more about yourself.

Once under pressure to act, a miracle happens. You do what you must do. You test yourself to find that you will always pass the strictest and most demanding test that you’ve ever taken.

My fingers are typing away at my keyboard. Typing words that string together to make a certain sentence which brings forth a certain meaning and a certain idea. These ideas are coming from me, but I am still clueless as to what I’m writing. Isn’t that strange.

It’s all because of you that I grew up and became the person that I am today. I see a lot of good in me. I see a lot of changes that I never thought I would be capable of. Do you see what you did or do you still see the same problem child that never grew up?

A good friend of mine once told me I get better with age. And I agreed with her. Do you agree with her? You’ve known me for quite sometime. You’ve known me through the toughest times of my life. Do you think I’m much better than the first time you’ve seen me?

The sweet thing about life is the mystery of the unknown. You are a mystery to me. Keeping your secrets at bay, pulling them out piece by piece, letting me connect the missing pieces in my head to finish the puzzle, but unfortunately I have so little pieces to get any idea of what the full picture is.

I use to dream about the things that lay before me and ponder about the things that I have left so long ago and never actually looked around me. I am starting to look around me and I’m surprised to see how much I miss.

This mindless bout of rambling isn’t as creative or isn’t as farfetched as my last edition of brain purging, but it does have a focus on it and it is to purge my brain of any fears that I may have on the day to come.

Nothings going to change my world. Oh how The Beatles use to sing these words when they go Across the Universe, but you know, everything can change your world. The littlest thing can make the most significant changes in one’s life.

Yes. No. Two words can change the lives of two souls. With a little yes, their intersecting lives will go on Across the Universe. With a little No, their intersecting lives will go on Across the Universe, but only in different directions and on different paths.

Still feels like our first night together. Going out and just not talking. You drinking your drink listening to the conversations as I do the same on my end. I was afraid to talk to you. I have so many things I wanted to tell you, but my brain and my lungs and my mouth cannot cooperate.

So I go on the night listening and thinking and listening and thinking to the little laughs and your little anecdotes to the war stories that are passed from one conversation to the next.

I remember the smell of your skin as you walk by every morning. I remember your quiet walk. I remember everything that is you. I just remember and that is a good thing. I still remember.

Will I ever forget you? Oh, I do ask myself that everyday. Will I ever forget you when the time comes for you to tell me to go and to forget you. Will I still remember 20 years down the line? If only I knew.

Lavender. That’s how I described your sent in one of my earlier notes oh so long ago. That word will always haunt me as I try to find out the real scent that is you. But I guess in the meantime, lavender.

I sat here working on the things that I needed to work, cutting the movie that is my life, but it was incomplete. It was not what I had intended it to be. You were supposed to be in it. You were the one that I was cutting for. But I had to do with what I got, and it turned out to be something that is fake.

Sitting here thinking, I don’t know if things will work out between us. We are so much a like, yet we are so different. Will it ever work? I’ve seen relationships of total opposites and I’ve seen relationships of total likeness, but never of a mixed relationship.

Will you be just another girl that I fall for and totally not be able to do anything about and then move on as I don’t see you anymore? I certainly hope not. I certainly hope that you are not just another girl but that girl.

I don’t know why I was so ashamed to have asked you out so long ago. I just don’t know why. I should just have told you that I like you and that I want to do something with you. I should have told you something instead of I don’t know.

Cause I do know. I should have suggested a movie. It was a crappy holiday, so we should have went and watched a stupid movie. Oh, how naive and how afraid I was to do what I did, but I guess times have changed. I’m not that afraid anymore.

I’ve done it a lot of times after that time. I would ask and you would kindly decline or laugh it off. That is our routine. Will this routine continue now that I’m going away?

I know you told me that you don’t have a problem with a at work relationship. That as long as they keep their personal and business lives separate, that things should be okay. We were working together at that time. I should take it as a hint, but I’m stubborn that way. I still will not take it as a hint.

You have to pretty much come out with a shot gun, shoot me in the guts and then tell me how you really feel. That will get my attention. Be blunt, be hurtful. It seems that is the only way that I can learn and know for sure on things.

I’ve always thought that my feelings for you were so obvious. That one look at me, anyone can tell that I melt for you. But I guess I’m as good of a poker player as you are. I’m not saying that you melt for me, but more of the fact that I can’t tell anything about you. You hide your feelings well.

When you came in that day with you hair down, I did melt for you. Words couldn’t come out of my mouth that made sense. My lesson just went out the window cause my student couldn’t understand a word. My words melted as it came out of my mouth as vapors that dissipate in the air.

How come we’ve developed this routine. When you take off your headphones, it means talk to me. When I take off my headphones, it means talk to me. We understand each other this way, but yet, I still don’t know if we understand each other.

Maybe you are sending out the wrong signals or maybe you are sending out the right signals and I just have my wires crossed and reading the right signals as the wrong signals and vice versa.

Wouldn’t that be hilarious that our whole relationship is a relationship of miscommunication? Again, I’m poor at reading signs, especially ones these subtle. I need something in big bold block letters. I’m stupid that way.

Sometimes I feel I should go back to the days of making use of The Postal Service instead of the internet super highway or the impersonal super highway. Instead of typing my words I will write them with my chicken scratch. It’s incomprehensible yet personal.

I want so badly to believe that there is truth in love this real is all I want to say to you. These maybe be my delusions of grandeur, but this is truth to me. I guess my delusions in this reality has made me insane. I need to go to an asylum to make these dreams real.

When I held you for the first time the other night, I had so much that I wanted to say, but I didn’t. I could tell from your earlier actions that you didn’t even want to give me that hug that I tugged you in.

Please understand that I was acting on impulse and it just felt so right. You were going to leave as I walked you to your car. It could be the last time we see each other again. I had to take the chance. My hand grew a mind of it’s own. My whole body cried out for me to act.

So I did. I grabbed you by your shirt sleeve. I tugged at it, hoping to draw you in. I was a bit woozy to realize that I got you in my arms. I wanted to squeeze you tight, but I thought that you might be afraid of my drunken state. You needn’t be.

I hugged you and held you, listening to your clear words in my drunken garbled translation. “Take care” I believe that is what you said. You said it like it will be the last time we will see each other. It can’t be. I will not let that happen.

When I loudly whispered my words in you ear, I thought I told you everything that I needed to tell you. But I didn’t as I came to my sobriety 30 seconds after you drove away. I didn’t. I told you enough to keep me in your life just moments longer.

“I’ll call you sometime and we can go watch a movie or something”. That’s what I said to you. Something so mundane as that. I should have told you more. As I finish what I said, all I hear is your laughing chuckle at my words. Or was that your uncomfortable laugh?

I should have done more. I should have done so much more that it would have taken the whole weekend to finish the things that I want to do with you. I hope you don’t get the wrong idea, but it is not that.

As I slowly stumbled off in my new sobriety and thought about what transpired, a feeling came over me that I realize is dread. That was our goodbye. That was our goodbye. It can’t be that. It can’t be.

As I am cheered on by my peers, they wondering what happened during our walk, I can’t help but think what did happen between us. Is it a missed connection that came too late or just came too early.

I cannot put a finger on our relationship, but I have a sick feeling that it is a familiar relationship that we both shared, but with other people. Do you think you could see me that way? Could you? I obviously can, but could you?

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything in my journal. Over a month I believe. I thought about what I was going to write before I started writing tonight’s entry. I thought about my excitement about getting a new job and getting out of my current job. I thought about just listing the general fundamental problems that plague the current company that I’m working at right now, which is one particular employee and mismanagement by upper management. I was going to go into detail about it, but I think I will not discuss it.

There’s no point. It is a part of my past. It is time for me to move on. I think right now, I feel that I have moved on. Look ahead, look forward. Don’t let the constant soul sucking of this company plague the thoughts of my mind. It’s not worth it. It’s really really not worth it at all.

So what am I going to write about? I don’t know. I just feel the need to write cause I haven’t written anything in a month, whether it is in my journal or if it is my writing projects on the side.

I guess for the past month, I just had some things on my mind. My short film which I’m preparing to shoot in the next couple of weeks and also with the whole finding a new job thing. I think that getting this new job and being out of the current situation will liberate me in doing more things, instead of going home exhausted and soaked in dread for being at work all day and just wanting to get a drink to numb the experience, to numb the mindlessness of work, to numb the bureaucracy, to numb the drama, to numb the politics, to numb the company.

No more of that. I will start new at this company. Just start new. Do my work, and leave. Don’t get involved in anything that I don’t need to get involved in. Been doing that lately, especially at this current job and even when I don’t intend to. It just finds me.

No, I just need to write, to have an outlet for any feelings or angst or pent up creativity or need to dispense any wisdom or venting out in the internet superhighway void that this little post will go to. Just need to write.

There’s been a lot of things that haunts my thoughts since I’ve resigned my position, but the one that hangs in my mind the most has to do with this one beautiful girl. I just can’t think of what to do, and that is driving me crazy. I think the thing that bothers me the most is that I don’t know what is going to happen, I don’t know how she’s going to react. But I do know that when I do what I must do, it is it. It is final. Then I will finally know and it is not until then that I can move on from what it is that is happening now. I must move on and I feel that I might be able to if things doesn’t work out as I want them too.

Then it is back to where a place that I’m seldomly at; a place without obsession and infatuation.

* * *
One thing that I have noticed in the past couple of months, especially after my father’s memorial, my life has just gotten much better. I feel much better about myself. I’m not the pessimistic souless fool that I once was. I do have to say that last year was a tough year for me, trying to get better and deal with my father’s passing. I do have to say that things has gotten better for me, especially this year.

Things just seem to be coming together. Slowly but surely, I’m finding myself. I’m finding my place in this insignificant little third rock from the sun. Maybe I’m 25 and things are supposed to come together at 25, but things are getting better. Been writing more. Feel much more giddy and much happier than I’ve ever have. Confident. More comfortable in my own skin. I think that is the most important thing, being comfortable in my own skin and being comfortable with the hermit lifestyle that I live, doing whatever it is I want to do without any pressures from my peers. I’m getting my act together.

I’m shooting something soon. That is something that I’d set out to do, that is the basis of my whole moving down here. I am doing it. I am preparing it. I never thought that I would make it here. I never thought that my time has come since I’ve always felt flustered all my life about what my life is about and being comfortable and being able to see a point in my life. The fog is lifting. There is light. Hope this continues. Hope this continues.

Sure, my life isn’t perfect, but my life will never be perfect. My social life isn’t where I would like it to be, but I’m comfortable with what I have now. I’ve been in the trenches and I’ve survived. Things can only get better and I’m confident that things will get better.

I’m sure many of you who are reading this and who knows me well are quite surprised by the optimism of this posting. I have to say that I’m quite surprised myself. Where did this come from? Where did it come from? Maybe it was my trip up to San Francisco, meeting an ex-roommate of mine that I haven’t seen for three years. Maybe it is that I’ve been able to pick up where we left off, the same type of relationship, never skipping a beat, or maybe it is the fact that I went and became social and never felt uncomfortable while I was doing it.

Oh, I was always afraid of being social, and for the most part I still am, but these past couple of months have shown that there is nothing to be afraid about in socializing. I do it well. Just make the best out of it.

Things are a changing. Changing indeed. Moving on, marching on.

* * *
The irony of my posting compared to the music I’m listening too. The Fall of the World’s Optimist. Is that me? Is this song about me? I highly doubt it, but I’m knocking on wood. Just to be safe.