Life.

It’s long lived, and living is a long and tumultuous journey of up and down roller coasters of coasting and seeing and experiencing.

Life.

* * *

Here I am.

My place.

My usual.

With half my usual. The tea of green, sucking it down, living it up, typing away in my lyrical nonsense that I think I might be getting back into. This is a time for celebration.

A time to celebrate life as I take a break from it. Living the slowed down pace that I am use to, the snail’s pace of just living just outside of life, of the happenings and going ons and ons.

Life.

I am here, in this Volcano typing away, in my usual usual groove.

Life.

It feels normal, it feels natural. It feels like the way that it should be.

Filled with drama, filled with the tumultuousness that makes life interesting; the stuff that movies are made of.

Love. Action. Drama. Comedy.

Welcome to my movie.

It’ll be a tired, slow paced, artsy-fartsy, independent style of nature with a mixed bag of everything.

It definitely won’t be for the masses, for it wasn’t catered to it. It’s catered to those who may have interest to just have a peek into what it is that I am about.

It is what it is.

There’s no apology for it. I’m not apologizing for it.

Not at all.

Just a senseless rambling ramblings.

Gone gone.

* * *

Ahhhh, to be able to type away freely in the comfort of this client.

This little chat client on the Windows side. Semagic.

OSX.

There isn’t really a great one, an easy one like this one, the one I am in love with.

Quoma or some other spelling that is similar.

Typing away typing away.

I just love the semi HTMLness of it. The ease of just typing without any shortcuts and just typing along with the semi-coding that I do.

Love love love.

* * *

Routine.

Life, at least for me, is a series of events tied together. These events are very routine. The usual of the usu…

But tis my life; tis is me; tis is it.

Coming here on the weekends, typing away, sometimes with distractions, other times not, just typing away.

It seems for the most part, my life is just a series of typing away. Typing away.

Type type type.

Putting thoughts into words, connecting the dots, trying to figure out what it is that I want to say or trying to find that elusive direction.

Am I lost again?

Am I at another quandary that I can’t find my way out of?

I don’t know.

Things seem different.

Things seem strained ever since the trip.

Things seem very quiet — always searching, like a hanging silence that shouldn’t be there, but it’s just a deafening silence.

Things are amiss.

I can try to figure it out, which I do in my background processess, but there are times where I just have to let things play out. Things will just have to play out and then I’ll come to a realization that things weren’t really much different at all, that things weren’t WRONG to begin with and it’s just my hypersensitivity of spider senses tingling into extra full force on-ness picking up things that isn’t there.

I think I just need an adjustment, a fine tuning, trying to find the right frequencies of proper working order.

I’m broken and need a fixing.

* * *

Mindless ramblings.

I know it is a senseless thing that I am doing here; this senselessness of typing words for the sake of typing words.

But I don’t know, it is just something that I need to do. It is just something that I have to do; to get whatever it is that is in me fighting to get out, out of my system.

OUT.

My thoughts. My brain. My mind.

It’s full and I need to purge purge purge everything. I need a clear mind. I need something so I can focus on other things, like work.

From the past post and this one, I may have found that -ness that I have been searching so long for in these blog entries of mine.

It’s back.

The sing song madness of mindlessness is back.

Chubby baby wiggling for joy in his mother’s arms.

Wiggling Wiggling away as I just sit here, as the two girls are silently waiting for their new clients and waiting for their orders.

Tea.

That’s what they serve. Their drug of choice and I’m a fiend, needing my fix. Needing this lost solace of mine, this emptiness of place, freedom from distraction, typing away, clearing my thoughts.

Clearing away.

Erasing. Formatting.

Looking out the window, as another distraction will come my way.

Small petite Asian.

Distraction indeed.

Sneaking a peek and worth the sneaking for the peek.

* * *

New found audiences.

Not knowing with this is all about.

Just reading along. Not use to the sing songs of yore, but more use to the direct interims of life and what the haps in my daily, weekly, monthly grindings of what I am.

Making no sense.

I’m sure not all of my future posts will be like the last couple and I’m sure that eventually things will get back to the forwardness that I am capable of, listing the things that are on my mind in a more direct way.

Eventually things will get there and I’m not in a rush to get there.

Let me enjoy this rambling. It’s been lost for a long time. I’m just soaking it in, enjoying it before it leaves these fingers for another hiatus.

I guess it is the jumbleness of what is in my mind, with the different subjects at hand, trying to figure stuff out and not knowing where to start or what it is that I am trying to find.

* * *

Answers.

I just need answers.

I have questions, and I just hate it when I can’t figure out the answers. It just frustrates me, so I just sit and think, coming up with solutions that never seem proper or just never work. Solutions come and then solutions go.

It just never happens that I get the right answer.

It’s always been a problem of mine, especially when it comes with people.

If I can’t figure them out, it just frustrates me more.

For the most part, I can read people well. My intuition just does what it does, tingling spider senses, telling me this and that with unbelievable accuracy.

But sometimes, it doesn’t work that way. Feelings get mixed in, emotions get mixed in and it just clouds these conclusions that I jump to, creating doubt, not knowing, frustration.

Ahhhh!

Frustration.

What is it?

I can never figure it out. Again, I will have my theories, but they are just theories until I have tested them and they then turn into law. Until then, they will just be theories or even hypothesises until time comes for them to be tested and then I will finally know the truth…or at least the truth to my questions.

Eventually, things like these won’t bother me anymore.

Eventually, I’ll just be able to let things go, not let them bother me at all. Eventually.

They just aren’t happening right now.

I would say about 80% of the time, I don’t care, but then there are others and I’m just like, fuck, shit, what the what, what the haps?

And those are the times that frustrate me.

* * *

Time is running out.

The ticking keeps ticking and soon, it’ll run to the time that I’m usually done, out of here, away from things, back into another routine of mine.

Soon.

Tying things up, finishing things up.

Soon, things will just be a bygone memory. Soon, things will be something, just something that I will eventually ignore, something that I will just let me.

Whatever will be, will be.

Soon.

* * *

What does it mean?

The flickering mind movies of mine.

I know it has a lot to do with being in the mind, taking up my thoughts, but overall what does it mean?

Maybe they are just wishful yearnings that manifest themselves in my mind’s eye.

Putting situations together to show how much she means to me, or how much I think of her.

Putting her in that pedestal, like most of the girls in John Green novels, but realizing when it is too late that she isn’t or will never live up to that image that we have of her, only seeing the side that we want to see, the side that makes our hearts go pitter patter, but not the full story, that may taint her image in our mind’s eye.

Maybe.

But isn’t that, shouldn’t that be something that we come to find out once we have the experience to get a chance to see more of her, see her in a different light?

Maybe.

Life.

It comes and it goes.

Life.

Time.

It ticks.

Tick.

Tock.

Writing.

I wanted to try and write something today, this morning, but it never happened.

I was focused on writing something, but nothing really came.  The thoughts just pooled in my head, my brain; swimming and coasting but these finger taps never came in the short time that I had.

Distractions.

A call tore me away.  A call killed the drive, the urge to put finger to keys to press to words – sentences – paragraphs.  Getting my thoughts out of this brain of mine into this void of 1s and 0s.

It never came.

Now I sit here, not in my usual place of typing, but in my home trying to get into the grove, trying to find the words that I needed to say; the thoughts that were swimming in my mind just a few hours ago.

*    *    *

Flickering mind images startled me last night.  Not in the way of nightmares or tremors, but in a different way, a way I wasn’t expecting.

It was another flickering mind movie that involved family and Ms. D. 

It’s been a while since those two combinations happened, but it happened. 

The first, was me introducing her to my mom.  This one, I’m standing up for her to my Auntie, because my Auntie was upset that Ms. D did something.

I don’t think she did anything wrong, it was just that Auntie was annoyed.

She, with family, interacting with family, like she is mine, with me, my partner, my girl, my wife.  Mine.  A part of my life.

What does it mean?

I don’t know.

She’s just on my mind I guess, constantly on my mind. 

*    *    *

Don’t want to think, don’t want to think.

It’s neither here nor there that she’s in my dream.  She’s just on my mind and there’s nothing I can do about it.

*    *    *

So I sit here, trying to piece together my thoughts, to empty this mind of mine that has been tired as of late. 

Empty.

Nothing flows as I try to get into this habit of typing out letters on a keypad, as I try to continue on my journey of finishing my script and emptying my ramblings and contemplations out in this void of mine.

Getting back into it, getting back into the groove.  It shouldn’t be so hard as I try to write cohesive thoughts into this blog of mine, but again, it has been difficult as of late.

My last entry flowed with the excitement that I once had for these type of things.  The strong conviction of my thoughts put down in this blog, but now, with each finger, with each press, with each letter, I wonder, if that was the right thing that I wanted to say.

There’s no focus.  There’s nothing that ties anything together.

Even in my previous writings and ramblings, my previous oh lyrical style of yore I was able to just finger tap with gusto, putting my thoughts down in a cohesive focused nature even though they were just jingle jangle of rambling thoughts with their little cute hidden meanings that I only know.

The cryptic sing songs of someone that has lost his mind and is trying to find it by emptying his stream of conscience out of the way, hoping that he can at last figure what it is that he wants, and where it is that he is going.

What happened to those lost days?

My brain just doesn’t seem to want to work that way anymore.  What is wrong with that way? 

Was it just a immature trapping of a fledgling new writer and that I am now more matured, more direct, more succinct in my thoughts and my finger tappings?

Wishing.

Hoping.

Why don’t things these words just come easier? 

*    *    *

…and now all I want to see is a sky full of lighters…

Searching in this ever long search of searches, finding the ever elusive findings of things hidden in the hidden nature of my heart.

Ramble ramble.

These sing songs aren’t going anywhere fast but they just need to go and get where they need to go. 

My thoughts just need to flow and flow into this pool of ideas and free me from this cage that I seem to have locked my self in.

He shot me down. BANG BANG.  I hit the ground. BANG BANG….

Goes the words that is softly whispered into these deaf ears of mine.  BANG BANG…

It is an awful sound indeed.  I use to shoot myself down down…indeed.

Shot and bleeding.  Dying.  Bleeding out, with the pains of pangs that I am quite familiar with, but they simply don’t hurt anymore.  They just don’t hurt.  They just linger and pass, faint, as if it really isn’t anything at all.

Those heart pangs just seem to disappear, as I can just sit there, with you in proximity and in a way, not be uncomfortable as I just sit and socialize with the others in the group.

*    *    *

How deep is your love?

Sing songs of quiet rumblings that erupts in these ears of mine. Coming to me in this warm summer night breeze. 

I ask again.

How deep is your love?

*    *    *

Never.

It’s just never. 

Never indeed.

Always.

Always just a few feet away, off in another conversation, separated by separation and just off, each aware of each other, but just off.

We can never be like how we usually are when we are together, but in a way, we just act like we are these distant strangers that only come together once in a while in these off chance meetings of get togethers and hiyas-howyas and there’s nothing more between us.

Yeah, I’ll tell you something that I think you’ll understand…

What is it?

Say to me…

Please.

Say to me…

Please.

Now let me hold your hand.  I want to hold your hand.

These soft words, sung, not by the fab, but by the horrendous movie musical, but best song of the bunch.  The T.V. Carpio that sings to my heartstrings, pulling the rhythms, culling the timbre, crying the words and tearing at the yearnings that is in my heart.

Pluck me out of this misery and let me fall asunder. 

*    *    *

Ramblings and ramblings. 

Resemblance of the ones of yore, the old ones that I am trying to get back.

The just mindless mind ramblings and thoughts of mental diarrhea that I am use to. 

The mixture of musical lyrics mixed in with my tapping lyrics, creating the emotions that I can easily manipulate, only going when the words that flow into my ears fit the equation that I am trying to make, to solve the issues, to come up with a solution to this little problem that I am having.  The problems of the PANG.

BANG BANG.

Bang bang indeed.

*    *    *

Back to me, back to here, back to now. 

Come away with me…

To me.  Here.  Now.

Come away.  Here and now, with me, here and now.

Coming back to this old mind of mine, putting the pieces together, putting me together, trying to get me going, rejuvenated into the me that I am finally growing accustomed to.

Me. 

Coming back.

Coming away.

Soon, will I even resemble myself.

Will it be me staring back when I stare at you?  Will you even recognize me as I constantly change and hardly recognize myself. 

Me yesterday is not the same as the me the month before, nor the year prior or the many year before.  The man staring back at me now, my reflection, is definitely someone that I have only a vague recollection of.

He is someone that looks like he knows what he’s doing, someone who seems to have a life that is worth living.

He sure took me by surprise the first time that I actually got a good glimpse at him.

He definitely looks like a man that I surely would like to be.

He is me.  I am him.  We are we.  Let us be.

One.

*    *    *

It’s a heartache…

It’s a fool’s game…

I’m a fool, standing in a the cold rain. 

Dancing, getting wet, jumping for joy. 

The quirky quirk of mine, celebrating the things that many would just whine about, the wetness of wet precipitation palpitating down on the earth, drenching everything in the refreshing our mother Earth’s wonderful tears of joy and sometimes angered sadness.

These are just emotions that she needs to shed, and eventually it cleanses our soul, washing away the problems that we may have.

Like us, standing in the rain, boom box (or ipod/ipad speakered-up now-a-days) in hand, arms extended, blasting without shame, without embarrassment, that sappy love song that just moves us, hoping that it moves her too.

The sentimental man that will do anything to win, to win, in this game of fools. 

It’s all just a game, played by fools.  There’s no winners here.

Only mindless, blind fools with nothing to lose.  Unafraid of baring one’s soul.

Say you want the same thing too.  Say you feel the way I do.

*    *    *

My time is on a schedule.

Seconds tick by, as I wait, wait for the allowed NEXT.

NEXT.

As I try to patiently suffer through my punishment by doing other things, like these finger tapping breakdancing of mind thoughts, to scouring the web for thing that keep my interest, so I can just let the seconds tick my so I am allowed to click NEXT.

NEXT.

Another union, another trip. Another walkabout in a new found land. Another adventure.

It really does seem this year is a year to be social, the year to be more assertive and outgoing. Is that my lesson for this year?

The number of happy hours and events, parties, outings that I’d gone to this year already far outnumber the same time period in my previous years. What is wrong with me?

It seems for the most part, things are well, things are good, and things seem to be okay when I’m there.

Of course, there are times when I get a little too inebriated, as evidence this past weekend at the Bell Blue of Philly.

Overall, that trip was a success.

Got to the wedding, took pictures, enjoyed time spent with family and then off to work. I got what I needed to do at work and now everything is done and done.

Done and done.

* * *

What is it? What is it with me and this bouncing ball of hearts?

It went from Ms D. back to the Emo-ness and now to Ballerina 5.

I don’t know what it is but it seems like things are easier with the Emo-ness now. A lot easier now and things seem a lil’ tougher with Ms. D. Maybe it is because I lost heart on that one. I realize that it just wasn’t going to work and left it where it is.

With the small talks that we have with both and now with the chit to the chat and the chattery latterly with the Emo-ness, I don’t know what it is. It even resulted in us hanging out outside of work; a cooking class with the Becks.

Things are going…doing things that I don’t understand. I’m just riding the wave, trying not to drown, to float along and figure things out as we go along.

Even with the serious talk, the trusting talks of her secrets and secrets, of what is the what? Where to go? Things seem easier.

There’s a progression. I just don’t know what it is.

Is she it? Is she the so called?

Three kids. A girl and two boys. That’s what was predicted for her. That’s what was predicted for me, years ago but 9th auntie.

Education. Off to school. Off in a whole new land for her. Off on her own, starting a new life on her own, growing, growing. Nothing but the best.

Is she it?

I don’t know anymore. I don’t know anything anymore. Nothing at all.

Then it leads to Ballerina 5. Cute. Cute. Funny and cute.

She’s young.

But I don’t know, there’s just a harmless chemistry between us. A banter of sweet banters. Ahhh to be young, to be in contention.

It puts my fickle heart a flutter hoping and hoping, but I know there’s nothing that is going to happen, hence I’m able to do what it is that I’m doing. Nothing of nothings…no possibility.

But it doesn’t mean I’m not going to play at it, charm it….just having fun with it. Treat it as what it is and that is just a fun time with someone that wants to reciprocate.

There’s this strength in her, a independence of being able to take care of herself. She seems very mature, grounded, and a good head on her shoulders too. A lot like me in many ways, a self-proclaimed misanthrope, but I beg to differ.

Just fun. Play along and see where it goes. That’s the best I can do. Just play along.

* * *

Of course while in Philly, I had to spend a lot of time with family, paying my respects to my elders. I visited 5th uncle, after seeing him at the banquet and the pre-party.

I visited him on Sunday and sat with him for about an hour. For practically the whole hour, I got lectured on the need to get married, have children, and maybe move home so mom can watch over my children.

Very old school. He’s old school, old generation. Even 1st Auntie (which I have since learned is actually 11th Auntie) and uncle even say so. Old school.

Hard to argue with old school. I understand where they are coming from, but maybe this is my so-called “American-ness” that is getting in the way. My independence of wanting to be on my own. The freedom that I have. The non-urge to get married.

I know that I’m not young per se in the sense of wanting to be a parent. I’m up in my years.

I’m on a track where I’ll get married and have children in my late 30s or early 40s. They’ll all be out of the house when I’m very close to 60…almost retirement age. But I don’t know, as I see it, the life expectancy is much longer now. If everything is pushed back a decade, like 30s is the new 20s, then I’m technically having my kids out of the house when I’m in my late 40s-early 50s, which isn’t bad.

Times are so different compared to when my parents got married. They got married when they were 16-17.

Listening to Auntie talk about it, describe it; my parents were just “big kids”. They were just “big kids” when they got married, not knowing what to do, not knowing about life and then having to take care of two little ones.

It seems that Dad was just lost. At that age, I would be too, two kids and not knowing how to take care of them.

Mom, being a woman, has that natural motherly instinct. She was able to care for my brother and I. My dad? A lost cause.

Not that Dad was bad. No, not at all, but it’s tough, being parents at such a young age.

That was such a different time back then. Sometimes I would think about it and just not comprehend, not understand it. I can’t put myself in that time. The responsibility of taking care of two kids when you are just a kid yourself.

It just seems that kids back then were just way more mature than the kids the same age now. When times were tough, you had to grow up faster.

There’s no luxury like the kids now-a-days with their ipods, cell phones, the cars, their allowances….luxuries that they never had.

They had to work, farm, to help support the family.

It’s not just a matter of time, it’s a matter of development, cultural development, country development.

I’m sure there are still many countries out there, many cultures out there that are still back in that “time’. They need to marry young, start a family young, have many children so they can help on the farm, and help with the family.

Where is that demarcation line? Where is that line between a life of luxury and a life of hard work?

I don’t know. I can’t pretend to understand or even know the difficulties that they had to go through. Not at all.

Old School.

Just listening to 5th uncle lecture me.

I’m at that age, not “small” anymore. I need to get married and have children. Raise them, and then they leave the house and start their own family, creating your posterity, continuing your blood line, leaving your mark in the world.

Life.

Then it’s just you and your wife, alone.

Then it’s a competition. Competing with your friends, your family, who’s kids are better, who’s family is better?

I’m not competitive. I don’t care.

Things will come. There’s no point in pushing fate, no point in rushing into things. I’m not ready.

It’s not that I’m afraid of being hurt. Not at all. I always bounce back.

It’s just doesn’t feel right. The idea of being tied down now, when I’m fiscally responsible enough and free enough to go and see the world, to have my adventures. My life just started.

As I read what I just wrote, it’s written from a closed-minded person who’s so comfortable of being alone and having that freedom of doing whatever he pleases that he doesn’t think about that these things can be done with someone else.

I just don’t know. My lifestyle just doesn’t allow for it.

Still trying to figure things out. Still trying to make heads or tails of this…this. Eventually things will come together. I’ll get that sign or that kick in the pants and I’ll be ready.

Until then, I’m living my life, by my rules and I’m fucking enjoying it.

* * *

The photo eye, the photo blur.

Seeing and seeing, capturing and capturing.

Of course at the wedding I had to take pictures. It’s like my only chance to be able to take pictures of people, and that is something that I don’t ever do or eve feel comfortable in doing. But there’s a reason here, a purpose, and a chance and I took it, like I did last year.

I took a lot of pictures but for some reason, I felt my camera wasn’t cooperating. It didn’t focus as well as I wanted it to. The VR got turned off on my 18-200mm.

Pissed. Royally pissed at myself and disappointed at how most of the pictures.

Focusing off. 50mm and 85mm. Just didn’t turn out as well as I want.

Even in the processing, I’m losing my touch.

Even Mui Gwai Fah said it wasn’t my best. It really wasn’t.

So disappointed. I need to use the camera more, push it more and see if it is the camera that is the problem or if I’m just having a off day.

Just need to find something to take a picture of.

But posting the pics and hearing the responses, everyone seems thrilled by the pictures. They all loved the pictures. Yes, there were some good ones out of the bunch, like any pictures, there’s always good ones out of the bunch, but they all seemed overjoyed by how the pictures turned out.

They said I was a tough critic on myself, but I think I know better.

Even the noob, the Emo-ness thinks that my picture are good. But again, she’s a “noob”.

Sigh…I just hoped that there were more better ones. I just hoped that the camera cooperated.

NOLA NOLA NOLA.

Went and gone, gone and went.  Home home home now.

It was a great trip like most of my trips to anywhere have been, or anywhere I never explored before.  Just a great trip of seeing bands, Arcade Fire, and being a glutton, eating meals upon meals.

Walking and rolling along.  Exploring this new found city and seeing what it is that is to love about it. 

The quaint charms of the buildings, the French Quarter.  The eccentric locals and the sin and sins of Bourbon, street not the alcohol.

All in all, a great time.

I will most definitely visit again and explore other things to see.

* * *

While I was there, my last day, I got a little tarot card reading.  Why the hell not?  Gypsies and Voodoo makers are there.  It would be fun. 

It’s been a while since I got a tarot card reading, not since the first few years that I moved down here.  It was definitely interesting to hear what she had to say.

First off, about the fortune teller.

She was rough.  I would say she was a rough looking 40 year old, but she seems nice.

Of course, as with it being on my mind most of the time, I had to ask about my fortune in "Love".  That one word of relationships.  Whether I have a chance with anyone, what my future will hold.  Will I be alone, living out the rest of my days or would I find someone that can settle me down and spend the rest of my life with.

Interesting is all I can say.

* * *

Now, I don’t know or understand the intricacies of how the cards work, the position and how many cards per position or how to read the cards.  What I’ll focus on is what was said.

Before we started, I had to choose my deck of cards and shuffle them.

I gave the cards back and she laid out three cards.  These cards give her a better understanding of who I am.  These cards are about me, as a person.

From the cards, she gathered that I am coming out of a dark period in my life.  This dark period was caused by a woman.  She didn’t get into specifics, she doesn’t know, but she said it was a woman that was the reason behind this dark period.

Next, she says that I am loyal.  I’m a loyal friend.

Also, she says that I am a man of my word.  What ever I say I’ll do, I’ll do.  It will get done.

For the most part, these things are true. As for the darkness, I’m always dark and moody, but for it to be ’caused by a woman, I’m not sure who she is referring to.  Whether it was Selena Kyle or even Ms. D.  I don’t know.

My infatuation with Ms. D was the latest.  It got me a lil’ upset, but it didn’t effect me that much, or at least I didn’t think it was that much.

One would think that my darkness is rooted in the death of my father, and the fear of losing someone that is close to me again.  That void is still there.  I still think about him, I miss him….

Any who, moving on.

Overall, the reading is going to be in the next year…a year from the time to the reading.

When it comes to past relationships, I’m falling for the wrong girls. They were all manipulative. 

In a way, I can see that with each of them.  I just have a habit of finding the bad ones, the ones that takes advantage of me.  I kind of see it. I do.  I tend to find girls that are willing to give me a chance, instead of the ones that I truly deserve.  I guess that is something that I will have to change.

She says that since I came out of this darkness, that it is time for me to open up and let people in and let the person I was meant to be in.  It is time.  No more dawdling. 

What this means is that I need to stop protecting my heart, which I have been doing for a long long time.  It is time for me to be vulnerable and let people in.  It is time.  She says that I do have opportunities in being in a relationship now. 

It means that there are a few girls out there that are interested if I only know and take action.

It is time.

She says that this girl, this girl that I meet and may be in a relationship, the relationship, the forever one has something to do with education.  She see’s something about education having to do with us.  That’s something that we share.  Grant it that I’m not in school, and no one that I know is in school, I have no idea what it means.

But it will come.

The gypsy teller, not that I know if she’s a gypsy or anything, says ultimately that I just need to stop being stupid.  DON’T BE STUPID she says to me, as the last thing that she read.  DON’T BE STUPID.

In another aspect of my life, she says that I’m very honest with myself, and my life.  I am very true with myself, even though sometimes that changes, who I am, changes, what I believe changes, but with each change, I am honest with myself about it.

She says that this darkness had made me change everything about me, from my foundation and start new again. I found myself again during this reconstruction after the darkness. 

It’s not necessary a bad thing, but I am forever honest and true to myself.  Which is pretty accurate and spot on, if you ask me.  I am very honest with myself.  I know my self pretty well, in and out…what I think, how I feel, and how I’ll react. 

With each year, with each situation, with each newfound idea, I change, I adapt, to make myself a better person.  And with each newfound adaptation, I embrace the change with open arms.

I’m honestly true to myself.  That’s the best thing that I can hear, for me, ’cause it means that I am not lying to myself on anything at all.  I know my flaws and I’m not hiding from them.

How does this relate to my relationship? 

Easy, I have to be true to the situation.  She says that this relationship isn’t going to be a fast one.  We’re not going to meet, fall in love and get married.  It’s going to be rocky.  It’s going to be hard, it’s going to hurt.  That’s what she says, and she says it is something that I need to do, to open myself up to it.

She also said that I needed to be honest with myself and her (my partner) about the relationship.  Things aren’t going to be fun and rosy.  Things are going to be tough.  Don’t blame her for how things are, just be honest with her, i.e. that I’m not happy about this, or that this situation is making me feel this one.  Never blame her. 

But, she could be the one, the proverbial one.  She’s the one that I will have a solid happy relationship with.  Am I ready?

I don’t know.  Can my heart handle it?  I don’t know, but I guess it must.

The gypsy also made a note that basically means I’m a horn dog, but that I am able to control it better now, better than the year before.  I know I am horny, I’m a guy.  Sue me.

When it comes to getting laid, or how I go about it, trying to get laid, I just need not to be STUPID. 

That’s all that I can remember, and that’s pretty much the important stuff about the reading.  The gist, if you pretty much will.

It was interesting for me that she was able to pin me down so easily, the loyal friend, me being honest with myself, being a man of my word, and a dark period.  I don’t really know or believe that a woman was a ’cause of my darkness, but it could be. 

The last time anyone has gotten me in a funk, was Ms. D, but I didn’t think it was big enough for it to be considered the dark period.  I don’t know.

But it’s over now.  It’s over and done and I am a new and changed person, moving on to someone else, to some other unsuspecting girls.

DON’T BE STUPID.

I don’t know what to take from this reading.  I’m not the type to really believe in it.  It’s just something fun to have a reading and get an impression of what is to come, what people can tell from these cards.

It maybe true, it may not.  Some can be true, others are just lies, but it is still fun.

I’m just going to live my life, going the way that it is going and see what happens. 

Let’s just see what happens. 

What is it that I’m waiting for? What is it that I’m trying to do?

Ultimately, the question is what do I want? Why am I afraid to figure that out, to realize the thing that I want is just in front of me and all I have to do is to ask for it? Why am I this way?

So, I sit here, waiting, trying to figure out this…this and no answers come to me.

I would like to be my usual definitive self and make up my mind and act with such conviction that there is no doubt that what I want is her, but I can’t. Something is holding me back. As much as I try to reason with myself, to explain to myself what the reasons for these fears are, they just seem hollow and false.

So, all in all, what exactly is it that I want? What indeed?

Fear.

Is it fear that is holding me back or just my general affinity of shyness?

Could it be that? I just never have gotten over it since I was a young kid?

No, it can’t be that. It’s my general fear of rejection? Really? Or is it something more? Something about not being able to give her everything that she needs? Maybe it’s just the fear of not being able to provide everything that it is that I’m supposed to provide for her.

Maybe it’s just my fear of my inadequacies to entertain her, to make her feel loved and needed. I’m afraid that I’ll be my typical self around her, with her. That I’ll be the selfish fucker that doesn’t want to do anything because I’m the Debbie Downer that is not the life of the party.

Maybe I just feel that I’ll be holding her back and that is not a right that I have to do. It’s not a right for anyone to do, not just me.

I don’t think I was ever a good boyfriend ever. I just don’t know how to be one.

All I know is how to be myself, and that is me, in my head, doing my own thing, and being boring. That’s just me.

But is that really it? That’s part; part of a whole.

What’s the rest?

Fear. Fear of what?

Losing her if I actually am able to make it work. Fear of it one day, she wakes up and realize that she was swindled into believing that what we had was great and that she actually deserves something better. Fear that I’m not good enough for her. Fear of me, being attached, fully committed, in LOVE, and then having that all ripped away.

I’ve had many great losses in my life and I don’t know if my heart can take another. I just know it can’t.

But, would that single explosive heartache be worth the nagging dull pain that you are currently feeling right now? Maybe? But that’ll be new, and this is something that I have grown accustomed too. I can deal with this. That, I don’t know if I’ll be able to.

Imagine the joy and bliss that you’ll experience, having that relationship. Having found and having the one that you love, holding her, embracing her, loving her. Imagine that feeling of bliss.

Fear.

Nothing lasts forever. All things will come tumbling down. I don’t’ know how to make things work. I’m lazy. Lazy. I don’t want to put in the work. I live the lazy man’s life of just letting things happening to me. I never seek out the experiences that I should have, but let chance present it to me.

Lazy man.

Maybe this is a part of the growing up that you need to do. You need to make these sacrifices, make these decisions. Play hard. Gamble. Not everything in the world is safe. You have to take risks.

Maybe this risk is something that I’m not willing to take. There’s no coming back from this. None at all.

I like what we have. I would like more, but I just don’t know what it is that you think. I can’t read you. I can’t figure you out.

I preach and preach about being clear, forward, upfront, but what is it that is holding me back? Why am I the way that I am?

You need to do this. You have to do this.

In a way, you already know the answer. You can feel it. You KNOW it. So, why not verify it.

Verify it.

Do it.

Ask.

What do you have to lose? Where will you end up? The same place as you are now. Just because she isn’t interested, doesn’t mean you can’t still maintain what it is that you have with her now? Can it? Does it?

I know you. Eventually you’ll be able to distance yourself away and detach from the situation. You’re good at it. Hopefully.

I think you’ll be able to do it. Maybe.

Just visit her less. See her less. You can still be the friendly friend of hers, but just visit her less. Deal with her less.

Sigh.

Decisions.

Blah.

Maybe I just need to focus on something else. What is wrong with me?

Blah!

Blah. Everything is just blah!

Blah indeed.

Is it me? Is it you?

What is it?

What is it that you want?

Can you even figure it out? Do you even have a clue? I never known you to act on something that you want. You’ll do your little research. You’ll make up reasons why it would be something that might benefit you. You’ll make up reasons why it would be a detriment. Based on that list, but ultimately, based on your gut, you act. You make that decision and say YES! This is what I need.

I will act upon it. I will make this mine. I will try to get it. But, what is the hold up on this one?

You haven’t done enough research?

Or are you just generally confused about the exact nature of your desires.

Do you really want this? Honestly? Seriously?

I know for you, fear is involved. Fear is always involved in most things that you do, but you always overcome whatever fear that is haunting you and face it head on with courage and braveness.

Now, seriously, why is this one so difficult?

Are you afraid of the rejection and that heartache that comes with it? Or is it that you are afraid to get into it and then lose it and that heartache that comes with it.

Why is it so easy for you to act on the others? The youngins. Do you know that they are not important to you? They are more trials than actuals?

Why?

So many questions bounce around in this head of mine. So many things that I need to figure out. I just don’t know where to start.

The only good thing about this is that I’m writing more, blogging more.

* * *

Straight forwardness. Blunt. Honesty. No games.

Why can’t you just do that? Those are the things that you want right? Those are the things that you live by, your qualities, but why can’t you do it here.

Your intuition isn’t always spot on. You have doubts because for some reason, you have an inkling feeling that you just don’t know. The best way to be clear is to ask, to be straight forward.

I should just do it.

I should just do it.

Sigh.

Maybe. One day. Eventually.

Maybe I just want this to last a little longer without any awkwardness. Maybe I just want this to continue on. Maybe.

One day.

Just maybe One Day things will change. One day I won’t put up with this. One day, whatever it is that I’m feeling I will feel no more.

Maybe. Just, One Day.

* * *

Ru Guo Ni Hai Ai Wo, if you ever did, why do I feel this emptiness in me.

* * *

Emotion wreck. I have been an emotional wreck lately. I have been a sad sensitive sap. The littlest things will just set me off. I know I am emo, but for the most part I’m able to keep it in check, I’m able to contain it.

But recently, I don’t know, the sadness and the injustice of the world are getting to me. The nobility of others are just wearing on my heart, my soul. I feel like I’m nothing, not being able to help. Whatever help that I do, just isn’t enough.

That story of the Iraqi Interpreter from This American Life started it all that day. Then the Japanese Student that found out that her family is OK from the catastrophe from a youtube video.

Things are just setting me off.

The pictures of the devastation is pulling and tugging. What are we to do? What can we do?

The 50 men who are fighting to contain the nuclear problem. The citizens that are trapped in that city, that are marked for death if there is a meltdown. They have accepted their faith.

No fear. Strong. Courageous.

It gives me hope. Humanity actually exists. With people like this, I’m not as worried about the human condition. As long as there are people like this in the world, with each growing generation, there’s hope for our future.

Sometimes, I don’t know.

* * *

It’s known.

I’ve told the friend during a discussion. It was between the two, but you edged out. You were the easier one to talk to.

* * *

With all the feelings that I’m feeling, with being in an extra sensitive and emotional state, I wonder how I am going to be when May rolls around. Will I be in a funk worse than I’ve been or will I be able to handle it?

Last year was actually a really tough time for me for some odd reason. I’m not sure why last year was more so than many other years, but it was.

I just hope that I’m able to pull myself together and just manage. Hopefully.

I know, honestly, that I won’t be fixed. I know, honestly, that there’s no healing from his death. There’s just coping and knowing that I miss him and that he’ll always be on my mind.

That’s just all I have and that’s all I can do. Not much else.

I certainly hope that that is enough. Please be enough.

Not even 32, as it creeps up on me slowly day by day. The count is less than a month away, and here I am, facing my midlife crisis. Maybe it is my midlife crisis. Maybe it’s just another crisis of the heart that I’m prone to do from time to time.

The long lingering thought of thoughts on that one that could is constantly on my mind. I don’t know what to do.

I have no idea what to do. It’s been said and said and the gesture is made, but I have no idea how to move forward. I should just be straightforward. Enough of the games. Sure there will be disappointment, sure there will be pain, but isn’t there that already?

Just counting the days I guess. Counting the numbers down slowly, one by one.

As the sunrises, the countdown clock ticks another day off in the calendar.

Sure, there have been many changes in me in this short year already and changes from the last age jump, but how am I acting on it?

* * *

Tired.

I’m tired of this. I’m tired of who I am when it comes to this. Why can’t I change?

Is it true?

Destined.

Alone.

It feels that I am. The lonely INFJ, the rarest of all personality profiles.

No wonder, for the most part why I can’t really find a connection to the population at whole. I’m an odd trip that can’t connect with most people.

Lost, wandering alone. Me and my baggage with my trusty dog by my side.

That’s all I see for now. That’s how I see my life.

I just need to focus on work. I just need to focus on work to get my mind off of things. I need to write out this loneliness, this isolation and hopefully, once out of my system, I can see something other than this.

Maybe the novella will help me. It deals with what I need to figure out…….

* * *

Sigh.

During this time, when the world at large is in need of something good, here I am, dwelling on the personal. Here I am, being the selfish being that I know I am.

But all in all, I don’t know what I am anymore. I don’t know what I want anymore. I don’t think I ever really knew what I want.

So, why am I doing this? Why am I stressing?

I want to be alone. Yes. I want to have that love. Yes. But I can’t have both. It’s just an impossibility for that to happen.

I just don’t know much of anything anymore.

I think I will just go through that cycle again of letting life be and not pursue anything at all. I should just play it safe and just play it slow and just play it away from everything and everyone that I know.

Tired eyes with a tired smile.

As in a way I drank my sorrows away, focusing my attention on something and someone else yesterday.

Drinking my sorrows away as I didn’t think about her at all.

Drinking my sorrows away as I was just in the moment, focusing on someone other than her.

If it is truly meant to be, if it is truly who I should be with, shouldn’t she be constantly on my mind even though I’m with someone else?

Shouldn’t the Pak friend not be barging her way into my mindscape either?

So cute. So adorable.

Sigh.

Pathetic.

Backing off, backing back.

Nothing else to do, nothing much more to say. Nothing nothing.

Hopefully I’ll get to a point this year where it really isn’t necessary.

* * *

Time.

Time flies yet stands so still today.

It ticks by and ticks by at a altered pace that I haven’t felt in a long time. Maybe it is a matter of being in this semi-recovering-inebriation of my mind and soul, slowly putting things back as best it can to the proper place where things should be.

My heart.

Pieces.

My brain.

Mush.

My soul.

Lost.

Strong and confident.

Bold and nonchalant.

These are things that I kind of see in myself and there are times where it just comes out, but it just doesn’t seem that way now.

Where these qualities are, it certainly isn’t here with me now. It has crawled back into the shell, hiding until I am ready to present it again.

Whenever that is.

* * *

Sigh.

Signs.

Let’s be honest. Let’s be true.

All false pretenses aside.

What is it that I want? What is it that I need? What works for me? What doesn’t?

Answers: Pending. I really don’t know.

It’s done and done.  Done and done.

Whatever it is that I thought was going to happen, happened.  Whatever that was my imagination of the fruitfulness of my gesture never came close to what it is that was in reality. 

Reality directed it to a totally different aspect that I was dreading.  It was the reality of 500 Days of Summer. 

It was that indeed.

Sweet.

Thoughtful.

That’s what I am.  That’s my nature.  There’s no fighting it.  Why don’t I embrace it?  Why don’t I?

In a way I do.  I am nice, thoughtful, and sweet. 

Perfect qualities that women do claim to have a desire, a burning for.  Something that they seek for in that one special someone.

Then why is it that this little grain of truth is never actually reflected in reality?

I guess in some ways.  Things just don’t happen that way.

My sweetness maybe is too sweet for this one girl’s taste and just totally perfect for another’s, but unfortunately it’s perfection for the wrong girl. 

I don’t know what it is.  I don’t know what to do.

I just know that a disappointment and a ennui is settling in me.  What am I to do?

What can I do?

Can I just tell my heart to just stop beating?  To stop pining?  To just stop yearning for that special desires of finding that top top one?  I don’t that is possible at all.  It’s just a stupid pipe dream.

Sigh.

What is a man to do?

What can he do?

You give it everything.  You gave it your all. 

I’m not the most subtle person.  I do really believe that my intentions were clear, albeit on the quiet side, but there is no reason, none, to interpret it in a totally different way than what was intended.

Sure, in a way, I do wish that she does go about and pursue her dreams.  But in another way she sees this as a gesture that it was meant to be; a declaration of intention, a declaration of my heart.

Maybe I’m just coming on strong.  Maybe.  I just don’t know.

I think I’m just going to put my heart at rest for a while.  I think I just need to focus and these little pangs of the heart is just distracting me from doing what ever it is that I need to set my mind on.

Focus.  No more love.  No more life.  No more girls.

My cave is my life.  My home is my life.  My finger tappings to the rhythmic thumpings of melody should be the only thing that I should focus on.

I have many projects that I need to focus on.  Many declarations of my mind, of my heart that I need to get out of this poor unhealthy system of mine.

I don’t know what it is with me.   Maybe I am just cursed.  Maybe I’m just paying back whatever karmic debt that I’ve built up early in life or even in my previous lives.

*                 *                 *

Bolder.

Maybe it was just a false sense of confidence, a false sense of security that made me do the bold gesture that I did.  I did it with thought, but in the end, I don’t know.  I guess I just didn’t think things through enough.

I didn’t know.  I never know, and even know, when I think I’m 100% sure that it isn’t what it is, I still don’t know what to believe.

Where did I get it from?  When did it just made me click and say, "hey, I think I’m going to do this and I’m going to get something really special out of it?"  When?

I don’t know.

It’s this growing sense of optimism that is slowly growing in me.  It’s this foolish sense of boldness that needs to be slapped out of my system and bring me back to the insecure dope that I truly once was.

At least then I know I won’t set myself up for disappointment.

Maybe the Perfronian is right and that I should just go along with things and not think about what is right and wrong and just do things that might actually benefit me.  If it means hitting on or working someone that has someone, don’t worry about it and just do it.

I don’t know.

Damn my moral sense.  I really do wonder from time to time where it comes from.

Where is this dignified sense of righteousness come from?  From my family?  From Dad?

I don’t know, but it really does seem like it is really chapping my hide. 

I just don’t know anymore.  I don’t know anything anymore and it is becoming crystal clear that I will never know or get a clue.

*                 *                 *

Thanks.

A big THANK YOU SO MUCH.

It was thoughtful and sweet.  I am thoughtful and sweet.  I meant it to be very thoughtful and I guess it was sweet.  I didn’t have to do it.  Not at all.

Even a unintended stranger said it was a very sweet thing that I did.  A very sweet and thoughtful.

I guess those two words will forever define me as a person.  I am a utmost thoughtful and sweet person.

Fuck my life.

Sigh.

Bitter.

I’m just musing on and on about my bitterness about how things are just how they are and there really isn’t anything that I can help to change that?

My sweetness and thoughtfulness, my nice-ness is not a by product of actions but it is deeply ingrained in my character, my nature.  It is basically who I am.  There’s no changing these strips and dots that I have.

None at all. 

It is me. All me. 

Me.

What good is it if I can’t get what ever it is that I want out of it.  Sure I do get that overwhelming sense of yes, I am a good person.  I do do the right things.  I’m righteous. 

But those intrinsic rewards don’t carry much weight when I want something else, something that may eventually rock the very foundations of my soul.  Love.  Affection.  Warmth.

The cheesy love of a lifetime. 

Sign.

It is what it is and forever will be what it is.

I just need to stop and distance myself from everything.  I just need to cut my loses and leave my heart at home to drown in the sorrows and become the robot that I know that I can be.  Cold and steeled. 

Distant. 

I know I can do it and I must do it.

I need to stop feeling.

*                 *                 *

Watching.  Keeping my distance.  Staying out of your way as you just go about as you normally would, enjoying your night, your special night.

I silently wonder what it is that you truly think of me and my gesture.  What do you think were my intentions?

As I just listlessly pine away and chat along with the others to keep myself busy, to keep my mind off of the tremendous mistake that I have made.

I don’t know.  I can never know and that’s something that I will never learn.

I just need to finally accept that.  To own it.  My flaws.

Another flaw, the denseness of my ignorance when it comes to the Y chromosomes. 

It’s a mystery to me.  I’m no Sherlock.  I’m not Watson.  I’m not even a Magoo.

But eventually life goes on.  I will go on.  Things will practically be the same.  It has to be. 

Nothing has really changed.  Nothing at all.

We are still at the same place as we both were before everything started.

She knows me as the sweet and thoughtful guy.

I know her as the sweet and thoughtful girl.

How funny things are.

Will things ever be different? 

Will my life ever be different?

It just seems I’m finding myself tumbling along in this sick cycle of pining, acting, confusion, disappointment, overall sadness, and then back to pining again with someone else.

I honestly do need help.

Too funny.

Life.

It’s a funny thing.

Love. 

It’s a funny thing.