Here I am again at my usual usual doing my mind-wander in this weekend of Carmageddon II.

It seems no different than any other weekend, no different than any other Saturday.

The sun is out shining its warmth all on us and I’m inside freezing with my hoodie sipping my tea.

It’s been about a month in since my last entry and looking back at things, not much has changed in my life. Not much will. It is what it is.

I sure have been going to the chiropractor getting my adjustments, slowly getting fixed and I’m doing my little yoga in the morning, trying to give my body the extra push that it needs to survive, to live through this little life rut that I am experiencing.

My writing is going as I am stuck on a story that is due in about a week and a half.

Maybe it is just this that I just can’t do any writing here at the boba shop anymore. As Stephanie says, I maybe need a change of venue, a change of place to do what it is that I need to do.

Maybe. But I do realize that for a while now, I was never been able to do much creative writing here. It’s just mostly my mind tappings, which itself has been getting infrequent and lacking of content.

Maybe things will change. But I don’t know. Things are just so up in the air right now.

I just hope I survive 2012 and 2013 will bring on better things.

Maybe. Hopefully. Hoping.

* * *

Words.

Typing words.

My drug of choice.

I’ve been on a binge lately, book after book. Words after words. I’ve been immersing myself into these finely crafted stories of hurt and pain and redemption and it just moves me.

It drives me, wanting me to do better, touching my heart seeing all of the little fixes in me, the little helps in me that I need or can give. It just makes me want to grow up and be.

Be a better man, a better person. It just makes me want to BE.

A grown up. Mature. Just…something more.

There is something more to me. Everyone says that. I have the potential to be many things; I have the potential to just be a great person.

Maybe some people actually see me that way already. I know that I just have a lot more left in me to fix, but it’s been a long road and I’ve fixed so much and changed so much that it is a good thing, a great thing.

But there is more. There’s always more. Definitely. Always.

* * *

Words.

Here I am doing my usual mind thumping which I haven’t been doing for a while.

In its replacement, I was doing my little attempts at prose, my little stories which hasn’t come to much of anything at all, well recently anyway.

I am happy with most of my other attempts, the tree, the affair…I’m happy with them, but I’m stuck.

I’m thinking of something else, something sweet, something different. Something…happier I guess.

I see it in my head. The slow burn of a relationship that I am oblivious too, but there’s that familiar bond there between the two. The sweet sing songs of routine and formalities and gestures that everyone goes through in life that slowly transforms and transcends all routines and formalities and gestures and become something in its own. It becomes the soft sweet sincerity of life talks and words that actually mean what they mean and not the false hollow words that is routine.

Maybe this little push is what I need, this little kick in the ass energizing yoga and mind meld to bring me back to peace and piece; it is what I need to bring me back to focus.

My mind has been in turmoil of such; frustrations at work, frustrations at home, frustrations at life.

Maybes.

There are quite a bit of them lately.

Maybe, just maybe, I need to just cure my little addiction. Just maybe Liberal Arts is right, that I just need to maybe put down my books, my words, my drug of choice, and instead of experiencing and living my life through books I need to start living my life and experiencing outside…there…here…out in the real world, in life, around the masses.

Just maybe.

I can still love my drug, but maybe just not so much of it. Ration. Small quantities. Maybe. Just maybe.

Who knows?

* * *

Liberal Arts

There’s this particular scene in the movie that I’ve been thinking about lately, or that really stood out to me while I was watching it the other night. Great movie by the way. Watch it.

But it was when Elizabeth Olson’s character Libbie and Josh Radnor’s character Jesse meet up that one last time. It was their closure scene and Libbie apologizes about what happened between them.

She made a point, she feels that she’s so much older than everyone student around her, she feels like she’s a 40-year-old stuck inside a 19-year-old’s body and she just feel like she fits in. I can totally relate to her. Always.

I always never felt that I ever fit in with my peers. Not really much. Now, it is a little different, a little better, but still, never ever truly feel I fit in with them.

So, in the film, she feels that by having a relationship with Jesse, who’s 35, she feels that she can just finally get there, cheat and actually be comfortable and be herself with him. But she’s lying to herself, trying to take that short cut.

She has to go through the time, the life, the experiences to get there. There are no shortcuts in life.

She just has to go through it.

Life. It is what it is.

That really struck a chord with me ’cause it is so true. That’s how I see it and there is no escaping it.

So, I sit here, silently waiting, biding my time until I actually become that 70-year-old man that I know that is trapped inside this 33-year-old body of mine.

Eventually time will catch up and maybe by that time I will feel comfortable again, but mostly by that time, that age, I wouldn’t care anymore.

Life.

It’s funny and in a way, full of surprises, but…not really.

* * *

Romance. The Romantics. The Idealists.

They were all miserable lonely men who had a clear revelation of desire and romance that they were able to capture and put down into words.

But ultimately, they were lonely.

I’m one of those, or at least I would like to believe I am one. I’m a romantic. I’m an idealist. I believe in the notion, the idea of romance, love. All kinds of it. The butterfly in your stomach, heart fluttering, nervous anxious kind that one gets when they are near the person that just makes them do the gaga.

The kind that just softens you relaxes you and melts that ice cold heart of yours and bends that tight frown into the beautiful smile that you have; I believe in love.

Maybe it is my fault, I believe in these impossible perfections that life can’t live up to it, so I always and will always be disappointed in it.

Maybe. Just maybe.

Pedestal. The idea of love is there. The romance. The sing song heart of hearts. That feeling of can’t living without another person.

I never ever in my life felt it, but it’s there. That yearning to achieve it, to be able to say I have experienced it just the once. Is that way too much to ask for?

Maybe.

Maybe I just love the idea of her. Maybe I am putting her on that pedestal like I have with the other girls before her.

Beautiful. Smart. Funny and a little sassy to boot. A girl with a kind heart and a bit of character has my heart in knots.

Maybe it’s because we are so similar in our interests that I feel that we can be a nice fit together. But maybe that is just wrong and that we are too similar to be any good together.

Maybe I just need to be open to ideas of others, opposites and embrace girls that I would never ever in my mind think that we can be much of anything but a common enemy.

The Romantic in me can believe that. The Romantic in me can believe I can tame the arch nemesis and our love will blossom out of our competition. The Romantic in me can believe that I can fall for that girl that never saw me in that light before, always thinking of me as the friend and nothing more.

The Romantic in me believes in all possibilities, all silver linings, the happy endings that everyone know that they deserve.

The Romantic in me can believe in everything.

Overall, I’m just a sucker living his life as a joker, holding court making everyone laugh out of jest and disappointment because that’s who he is, and that is what he does.

I’m a sucker for romance and maybe…just maybe I’ll be able to capture it one day in the words that I am so addicted to, so that everyone can experience it with me.

I just hope that I don’t fall in with history and be the miserable lonely men as the others.

Just maybe.

Hopefully.