Words. Thoughts.

I just need to string them together as a tones and melodies stream endlessly thought my ears. I just need to focus and come to terms with what it is that I want to say.

I have been in this writing rut lately but I think I was able to pull out of it as of late. I just need to get back into this…this diatribe of words in this dear blog of mine.

It’s been almost a month since my last entry, the yearly yearly new year bah humbug to all entry.

And what do I think of 2013 so far? It’s not bad.

I’m just focusing on my photography projects to just change things up.

My people project is forcing me to interact with people that I normally wouldn’t interact with. It’s good. It’s good for me; practice of being a human being, of being social. Good practice.

The other is the 365, your typical a picture a day. It is what it is and there is a lot of overlap in some cases between these two projects, which I don’t mind.

I think I just need things to focus on and last year, my mind wasn’t in it. There was no focus.

Why? I’ve pondered this and sure it was my mid-life, but I’m sure there are a lot of other factors too. I just can’t pinpoint the complications of life.

* * *

I won’t give up on us / Even if the skies get rough…

Did I give up?

Maybe.

But don’t you think I have to? I have to. Time needs to move on. Time needs to change. It needs to just be done with.

The urgency and the need to be there isn’t as strong with me as it was. Whether it is noticeable or not, I’m not sure, but for damn sure, I’m doing my part.

I need to. I just do.

It’s not that my feelings for you have changed. It hasn’t. It’s still there, clawing to get out of everything that I have failed to notice before. I’m not as idealistic and romantic as I was with this notion of us anymore.

My eyes finally cleared as it usually does with time and I can honestly say that in the end it is for the best.

Moving on.

* * *

Signs.

It seems that I use to see them all the time, but not so much anymore. Now, it is a gut feeling that sometimes I heed and other times I just ignore.

Signs.

I miss them.

But looking back, maybe I was so lost back then that I needed to see things to point me in the right direction. Given where I am in my life — not so lost — maybe I don’t need to see signs anymore. I can trust what I need to do with my own decisions and my own guts and feelings.

Maybe that is how it works.

My days back in Washington over 10 years ago, trying to figure out what to do after college, everything pointed to California. Everything was California Dreaming and airplanes and Los Angeles.

Signs.

I saw the sign and it opened up my mind… I saw it and I am here, now.

Is it better? It’s hard to tell since there is only one life, this life and I made this choice to be here and here I am.

I can’t know what my life would have been if I decided to stay up there.

There are so many possibilities so many different things that could have gone so different to make me such a different person or even the same person that I am now. It’s so hard to tell, but there’s no point in harping on it. There’s no point at all.

Live a life in the past; live a life of regret.

The only thing that I can do and should do and am doing is to be here, now.

Here. Now.

* * *

Action.

Or in my case the lack of it.

I need to do it. I need to put myself out there, to get into the groove of dating again. Or at least try to put myself out there and see what happens.

No more pining. No more dreaming these unrealistic fantasies of how things should happen and how meet cute moments with cute girls and crushes should be.

Interesting side note, I read somewhere that crushes only technically last for about four months and anything longer than that is “love”.

Hmmmmm….Interesting indeed.

But yes. Out there. Be brave. Just be.

* * *

Blur.

It just seems like everything is a blur now. Memories and moments are gone. Life just passes me by especially when I stop and think about it and just do it.

I know that my life is still pretty fucking boring compared to many. I live a simple life. A very humble life (will at least I would like to think it is) and that is okay with me. I’m cool with it. I have no problem with it. It is how I roll.

But I don’t know when things started to be this way. Moments are just moments that slip away from my memory, only to be recalled with effort. IT isn’t the simple thing that I can do day in and day out on a whim anymore. It is a lot more difficult.

Maybe it is just things that aren’t that interesting enough for me to remember or maybe they are just life moments that I have experienced day in and day out that doesn’t deserve to be remembered.

Maybe.

There are a lot of maybes in my life. My life is full of maybes because for me, there are a lot of things that are uncertain.

I lived this life for a while now. Maybes. Things aren’t for sure, aren’t fact until they happen and I know for sure that this is how things are going to be. There is no certainty at all, even when you believe that there is.

Life is uncertain.

* * *

It’s a new year. It’s a new post.

I hope this year begins with a little bang to spice things up. Just a little something something to let me know that this year is going to be a little bit different from other years.’

Morning texts from cousins don’t count.

I need a little something, just something that is different.

The crazy girl that was definitely on something isn’t here today. But that was different and judging by how last year was, I hope not to repeat that incident again.

It’s been a tradition, but I will be spending the New Year at the Carter’s today with their southern New Year Tradition; fried chicken, black eyed peas, and collard greens. Yum. I can’t wait.

* * *

Resolutions. Do I have any?

It seems like I do try to make a few from year to year. I just don’t know whether I am actually successful or not.

In a way, I was last year by trimming down my visits to Ms. D, so that worked, but other than that, were there any others?

Of course, health is important so I need to start exercising. I think it might help with this constant fatigue feeling and the lack of focus that I have been experiencing this past year. It’s always good to be in shape, to not feel this little tingle in my chest, my heart; always fretting that I might bite the big one soon just like my old man.

Creating. I just need to. I just need to focus all on creating. New scripts. New shorts. New ideas. New pictures. I just want to be constantly creating. I just need to do. Stop fucking around and just do.

I have taken enough time off. I need to work my brain creatively again. I need to focus on The President’s Daughter and knock it out with Bradley. Just do it.

Get out more.

Maybe. That one is always tough given my introverted home body nature. But it is something that needs to be done.

Girls just don’t come knocking on guys’ doors anymore. Such a shame.

Three resolutions. Simple ones, well, except the get out more. But we’ll see.

Let’s just play this by ear and try to keep it a year of YES.

* * *

No.

It’s not going to be a year of no anymore. I’ll make an effort.

I still have a story to write with the premise of simply, No.

I owe someone a story and I think that will be the one that I will tackle next.

I need to be proactive on these stories, proactive on writing, proactive on these things.

No.

What to write?

It’ll come to me as most stories do, organically.

* * *

Smiles.

There are times when I think I have a knack for bringing out smiles.

Some people are easy because that is their disposition, sunny side up. Others are a little more difficult, because that is their disposition, Tard the grumpy cat.

Those are the ones I like. Those are the challenges I like to take on.

I know that they aren’t particular mad or angry, it’s just that is who they are.

So I pull and I tease. I joke and play.

Slowly with the skill of a surgeon, with craftwork, I tug a small crooked smile out of them. Then eventually things warm up, things just gets easier each time I see them and there it is. A smile that needs no coaxing. It is just there.

I should use this talent to my advantage. I should make it work for me.

* * *

Now it just seems I am typing words for the sake of typing words.

I am stringing them together to make a sentence, to make an insignificant thought together that has no bearing on anything that I am doing.

I am just wasting time, but in a way, I am not all at the same time.

It’s a skill that I have perfected; this brainstorm free writing of mine. It helps get these timid creative juices jumping and simmering, hopefully reaching a rolling boil which it hasn’t done in quite a long time.

Stories. I love stories and I think in a way, I have found my calling to make stories.

But first, I need to live to gather stories. It’s a work in progress.

Life.

* * *

Quiet.

It’s been a quiet morning today. More quiet than usual at the boba shop.

I’ve been here before where I had been the only customer that they had for the whole time I was here, but that was a long long time ago.

Today is no different than one of those days. There were only a handful and I’m the only one in here, typing away my life as the three girls do whatever chores they need to do behind the counter.

It’s a quiet and slow day in deed.

But in a way, it already seems that this year is shaping up to be something better than last year.

Already, driving from the energy and the sense of relief for the past few weeks, I am able to focus and write.

I’m able to make stories. I just hope that I can keep it up.

I need to be a man of conviction again. I need to do what I say I am going to do. It’s not that hard. I just need to be a man of my words.

I’ve been that for a while now. I just need to step up that game.

* * *

There’s a new girl today. Tall.

I don’t think I’ve seen her before. I thought she was Stank Face, but upon closer inspection she isn’t.

I wonder what her story is.

Actually, I wonder what all of their story is.

Everyone has a story and they are all interesting stories.

They might not be interesting to you in particular, but there will always be someone who thinks their story is interesting and it only needs one…just one person who thinks the story is interesting to make it interesting.

I just hope that my stories are worth writing, worth telling.

I just hope that my stories can make people feel love, anger, joy, and all the other emotions in their infinite spectrum that other authors are able to make me and millions of others feel.

I just hope that I can.

Hope.

It’s worth something.

Without hope, there is nothing.

* * *

My time here is winding down as I am just looking for something to pass the time. It is about time for me to just pack up and leave and just focus on the rest of my day, my month, and my year.

I am looking for a friendly distraction.

It is time.

To say goodbye for today.

Oh…Les Miserables….the movie and the musical. LOVE LOVE LOVE.

Just LOVE.

There is not enough LOVE from me for it….

Just LOVE.

Here is another self imposed writing prompt:  Write about meeting someone you may or may not know during a annual event, on two occassions.

Basically this story was something that I needed to get out of my system.  Its’s been brewing for quite some time and it is appropriate for me to end my year with this story. 

It was like one of those meet cute moments in a Nora Ephron Rom-Com when I first saw her that night.  I turned towards the crowded restaurant floor and in cinematic slow motion the crowd parted to reveal the beautiful leading lady.  My heart literally skipped a beat.  She stood there, looking at me and we both took our slow steps toward each other and embraced.  I couldn’t believe it. 

I may have been drunk when this all happened and I wouldn’t blame myself as I felt a little anxious at our company’s annual Holiday party.  The whole night, up to that moment, I had my doubts if she was going to show up at the party because she was out sick during the day.  But there she was and the butterflies fluttered in my stomach.

It was a moment of dreams, of fantasy.  It was a moment only in the movies, the moment that was going to be the start of my new life, my life with my romantic ideal, my soul mate, the love of my life.  Esther.  Esther Spiegelman. 

The restaurant was loud like any party should be, but it felt like we were alone.  We stood there with each other, each talking into the other’s ear.  I said something stupid and dorkishly me and she laughed.  Esther replied with a gusto of snark and wit with a flair of girlish charm that made me weak in the knees.  Only in the language of film would this ever happen.

The rest of the night was a montage of images to an eclectic upbeat soundtrack that spanned decades.  The more I drank, the looser I felt, and the more fragmented my memory was.  I walked Esther to the bar for a drink and I lost her in the crowd as she started to chat with her friends.  I then made my way through the sea of people trying to find my own crowd.

The rest of the party was just memories of me talking to my coworkers, some cute girls here and another cute girl there, and I remembered the whole time that I was having fun, which I never really do at big parties.  But shimmers of Esther always came back to me.  We caught each other’s eyes from the opposite side of the room and raised our glasses in a toast.  Secret smiles shared through the crowd as we bumped into each other again and again throughout the night.

The party wound down to its final moments as everyone filed out of the restaurant.  Our last moments together were outside on the curb.  I waited for the valet to get my car and she saddled up to me asking if I was going to the after party down the street.  I really didn’t plan on it, but since she was going, I obliged.  With a simple yes from me, she went on her merry way to the party, leaving me at the curb fetching my car. 

It warmed my heart knowing that she may have wanted to hang out with me at the after party.  It warmed my heart that when I thought my night of seeing her would end that it wasn’t.  It warmed my heart.

But alas all fairy tale movies come to a conclusion.  Some are happy endings where everything ties up in a nice little bow and others end with the viewers wanting more.  This was one of them as I got to the King’s Head and she was nowhere to be found. 

* * *

My heartstrings played melodies for Esther for a while now.  Like any relationship of unrequitedness, feelings festered softly and quietly as we both got to know each other.  At that time, I was actually interested in her best friend Cheryl.  I would go visit Cheryl but I always ended up talking to Esther instead.  Through our little chats and interactions, my heart found its new tune.  Whatever affections I had for her friend dwindled as it should. 

I visited her more and more and we chatted our little hearts away.  My icy heart melted with the warmth of her charms and I was smitten and addicted.  I fed off of the drug she was selling. I was a fiend for her. 

Throughout this time, I asked her out from time to time, but each time nothing came of it.  She would say, “we’ll see” or “maybe”.  At first there was hope in these little words.  Hope of an actual maybe, and hope that she does see.  But as I settled into my nature, these words just mock me of the hope that will never come.

Each time would be a dagger in my heart and each time it would take me months to recover the confidence to ask again.  I was Sisyphus rolling the boulder up the mountain only to have it roll down again.  It seemed to be a losing battle in this game that we are playing.  I had lost before I even got to play but I was too stubborn to know any better.

But by the time of the holiday party, my confidence was up again.  With everything that happened between us, I was at the precipice.  It was time to ask her again and I did.  I called her up wanting to meet up later during the week. 

Esther answered and the surprise was in her voice, unsure of how I got her number (which she gave me months prior).  We exchanged niceties and I closed my eyes and took my plunge.  The uneasiness and uncomfortableness that was on the other end was deafening.  I felt it in my bones and my heart even before she can give an answer.

“I’ll have to check my schedule and I don’t have my date book with me,” was all that she had to say.  There was no hope in her answer.  The boulder rolled uncontrollably down the mountain and I was too tired of this life to push it back up.  She was nice about it as she said she would get back to me and eventually she did.

Esther’s reply was a battle half won, but a war lost.  We did end up getting together but it wasn’t how I hoped it would be.  I had already made plans with Cheryl a few days prior and Esther decided to crash that.  It was an out for her to hang out with me without hanging out with me.  It was her way of letting me down easy.

The war was over.  I had lost it and it was bloody.  It was a war I was never equipped to fight.  Defeated.  I collected my wounded heart and prepared for restoration.  My heart steeled over with ice again.

The New Year came and with it came a new resolve.  I decided that I needed to take myself out of the equation.  I needed to remove myself from her and I did, but being the fiend that I was, I couldn’t quit cold turkey.  I fell off the wagon a few times, each time bringing me back to the addiction that I once thrived on.  Being around her just made me weak and I needed more of her. 

Eventually things got easier.  Detox was working.  Esther was no longer strumming the strings of my heart.  Her melody was a tune I no longer recognize.  It was just a fading memory that stung from time to time as it fought to be remembered, like a song stuck in one’s head which eventually fades into the back of one’s mind. 

For a year, that was how time passed.  New memories were made as others just faded into the forgotten and a few fought to linger on.  Esther lingered. 

* * *

Tonight’s party was no different than any other holiday party.  Associates let loose and partied a little too hard, drank a little too much, and got too touchy feely than they normally would.

I moved from crowd to crowd and drank to drown my anxiety as I normally do.  Soon I finally relaxed and learned to enjoy myself again.

Then out of the crowded mass I spot her.  Esther was talking to a good friend of hers, nursing her glass of wine, entranced in the conversation that she was in. 

There were no parting of the crowds tonight nor were there anyone moving in slow motion.  Tonight was not a night of fantasy or movies.  Tonight was just a night not unlike any other.  Tonight, I just walked passed her, not hoping for anything from her.

But she was there.  I felt her.  Her melody played in the back of my mind.  My heart felt it.  My heart sang it.  My heart needed it and my heart got its wish.

I honestly tried to avoid her but maybe subconsciously I wanted to talk to her.  Or maybe it was beyond my control and the Hands of God had something else in mind, slowly plotting and moving us together as the night progressed. 

We were pushed into each other.  We hugged and chatted for a bit.  There were no dorkishly me moments nor were there any gusto of snark and wit.  We were close to each other, screaming into the other’s ear, trying to fight the noisy crowd. 

There was nothing romantic about any of it.  Our conversation was banal and boring.  Looking back, it was probably no different than any of the conversations that we had.  I just didn’t idealize or romanticize it like I normally did. 

Soon we faded back into the crowd, separated by the flood of people and she was then forgotten.  Esther was just another familiar face in a sea of faces.   Esther was just another girl that I once knew. 

My heart strummed no songs nor held out on any hope.  It just beat on, not skipping a beat to a brand new tune.