I think I’ve reached a lazy point in my life. I haven’t been motivated to do anything lately. It’s been happening for the past couple of months actually. All I’ve been doing is sitting on my ass. Sure I’ve just finshed that script and is about to start that photography class, but I’m not talking about that. Those are new things, different thing that I don’t mind doing. What I’m talking about is about the basic little everyday things.

The main thing is the whole cooking thing. For the past couple of months (2 or 3) I haven’t cooked anything. Sure I’ve cooked some steaks or some burgers for dinner, but I mean real cooking. I love to cook. I use to cook a lot actually. Just make stuff up. Whatever sounds good in my head, and whatever just make sense and I just cook it. Most of the time it turns out all right, and others are just gag inducing. But the thing was, I use to cook, but now, I’m just a lazy bum. I’ve been spending a lot of money on food.

I’ve been ordering out lately. Pizza last night (even though the buy one get one free deal is great), it is still money. I just think when, why, how did I become so lazy.

Even the dishes are piling up in the sink. I usually either wash it that night, or the next day. But they’ve been sitting in the sink for days at a time.

I’ve even become lazy at work. Sure I do my work, but I’m not doing as fast I’ve use to. I’ve become really unmotivated to work. Waking up each day, dreading the day to come, knowing I have to deal with my boss. Oh…I just wonder why.

Things have seriously change for me. My drive is gone. My routine for writing has been ehhh at best. Last year around this time, I’ll be hard at work right now, writing. Finishing a script or something. But now, it’s not happening. I would use to write about this time of night to about 2 or 3 in the morning. What happened to those days? What just happened? Is this what it means to be old? You lose your drive to do anything.

Talking with Lisa today, we started to talk about her writing. She writes, or should I say, she use to write. She write short stories. Tall Tales and Tall Women is the title of the collection of short stories she was planning on writing. The concept was that these short stories will revolve around these certain number of characthers she’s came up in this particular universe. It is like the characters in the View Askew universe, for those who are in the know about the Kevin Smith films. It was along those lines. Anyway, she hasn’t written in a while, but she’s starting to think and flesh out the stories a little more. And honestly, they are good, they are interesting.

She has a writing style that I’ve never read before; grant it that I’ve been reading Clancy, King, and Koontz for practically my whole life. They aren’t really the female type. But anywho, I like her style of writing. It just has something to it, a certain flare if you will. She’s good. She’s a much better writer than I am, that is for sure. Many writers out there are much better than me actually, but that’s beside the point. Anywho, I’ve keep insisting that she writes again, cause I want to read her stuff. But she doesn’t. She’s not motivated.

This is disheartening to me. A great talent like her not wanting to write because she just doesn’t feel it.

Sometimes I wonder why do I bother doing the things I do. I mean, why? What’s the point? Not that anyone reads it anyway. Well some do, and I’m thankful. Ahhh, I don’t know what I’m trying to say.

Let’s move on.

I’ve been having these weird mood swings again. I’ll go from days of giddiness to days of downright dark manic depression. Tuesday was one of those days. It started out well. It started as one of those giddy days, then in the afternoon, the depression crept in. It lasted all day yesterday. It was bad yesterday. I didn’t want to deal with anyone, talk to anyone. I just wanted to lock myself in a hole. I actually thought about going home early because I broke down a couple times at work.

Those days are getting tougher and tougher to get through. But they just seem to creep up on me. I’m better now. Today was a good day. See, weird mood swings. Sometimes I think I’m going through PMS.

I am a weird guy. I know. I do weird things; talking with myself, I laugh at almost everything, I sing cheesey love songs to myself, I’m way to sensitive, very melodramatic at times. All things I could understand. It is within my weirdness. There is one thing that I find weird about me. I’m a jumpy guy. I get startled easily. I don’t drink coffee, so I’m not wired on caffeine. I don’t know why I’m so jumpy. I don’t get scared easily. I’m a little paranoid, sure, who isn’t, but jumpy? That is a weird one for me.

I don’t know why, but it just happens a lot to me. Like today, Kate scared the living crap out of me, and she didn’t mean to. Coming back from the bathroom, I was walking back through the hall and I turned into the doorway, and there she was, just standing there..and I got scared. Believe me when i say that Kate is not that scary. She’s quite easy on the eyes actually, but I jumped out of my skin. She’s done that to me a few times already. Kate has it in for me I’m telling you. She wants me dead, gone, eliminated. Each time she’ll tell me to relax, and I’ll joke around with her and say that she’s freaky. She is a little, just a little. But she called me a freak, because this was the biggest scare in a while.

Anyway, I really don’t know why. Maybe it is just because I didn’t expect her there. Maybe I was lost in thought and I didn’t see her until it was too late, or my peripheral vision is down, or I need to stop being such a “dedicated” walker, but I get jumpy. Most of the time it is unexpected movements, movements out of the corner of my eye that I wasn’t expecting. See, I really don’t pay attention to where I walk I guess. I’ll always look around but not see, or I’ll be lost in thought thinking of stupid little things. I never really pay attention. Maybe I just need to start paying attention.

Sometimes I would think it is because I keep thinking that I’m all alone all the time. I don’t think that there is anyone around cause I’m just alone. When I hear something or see someone out of the corner of my eye and I wasn’t expecting it, I’ll just jump.

People would laugh at me of course, cause it is just strange. I’m a scaredy cat. That’s what Amber called me once when she scared the crap out of me back in senior year of highschool. Ahhh, I just find it fascinating and strange that I am so jumpy. What is wrong with me? Maybe I have a weak heart. Who knows.

Well I wrote something tonight. Something long and personal, but for some reason, whether it was fate, destiny telling me that I can’t post that, it is too personal, or that it was just a stupid computer error, the computer froze and I lost that entry.

What was it about? It was honestly about me moving on.

I wrote about my sickness of falling for unattainable girls. It’s happened throughout my life. I’ll always find the pretty girls who are out of my league, the girls with boyfriends, the girls who just want to be friends, the girls who just have no interest in me whatsoever. I was masochistic.

I went on writing about them, then on to Amber and how she really hurt me in highschool. Yet we never went out. Is it possible to love, or to know what love is without ever being in a relationship? I’m not talking about the familial love, but LOVE love. Movie love. Romantic love. Is it possible?

Ehh..why bother answering the question.

Back to what I was saying, I had problems. I find these unattainable girls because it was safe. I didn’t have to go out with them, cause I know there is no chance for me to go out with them. None at all, so I have a reason to feel the way I felt. It gave me a reason to indulge in my pathetic-ism…that is not a word, but go with it.

Back then, I wasn’t a catch at all. Low self-esteem, self-confidence was nonexistent. I was shy. Your typical nerdy teen. I wasn’t very happy with myself..so I dream these impossible dreams and fall for these impossible dreams.

But times have changed. I’m not that kid anymore. There is still some of him in me, but not as much. I’ve changed, I’ve grown into a new man.

For the longest time when I was younger, up until I was in college, I have these crushes and I never acted on them. I never let them know, never asked them out. Well besides Amber, but that was different. I never did, never had the confidence to. Then in college, working at the Zoo Store, I did. I fixated on this girl who turned out to be a lesbian. If you are reading this, we should schedule a time to chat. I would really like to catch up.

But see, it was then when I changed. It was then, when I didn’t care about much anymore, and became a little more carefree. Maybe it was because I knew that I was going to graduate soon, and be on my own, but I started to loosen up a little bit. I started to drink, to socialize. That summer was the summer I started to change, that summer before senior year in college. I asked a girl out.

For the longest time after highschool, I thought I would never fall in that trap again, but I did. I keep on finding these girls that I fall for. I thought it would change after I moved down here, but yet, it happens again, which leads me to my current infatuation.

She’s changed my life. Well, let’s not go that far, but she’s one of the biggest reasons, one of the biggest factors that helped me become the person you know today. Thinking back on why I fell for her, I don’t know? She was pretty in my eyes, she was quiet (considering it took her 3 months to actually talk to me, and I was the one who initiated the conversation), she was a mystery. Of course I feel for her. I wanted to find out who she is, and I’ve gotten to do that. In the process, I fell for her. She was my first. She was the first girl that I actually try to pursue, not first in that department. Haven’t gone there yet. I asked her out time and time again, and time and time again she would decline. Well, it was a piss poor effor on my part, but I’ve learned to take rejection like nothing. I would just get back on the horse and do it again, later. At first it was difficult and devastating, but now..I don’t care cause I know she’ll never want to go there with me. It’s routine. Also, through the process, through our conversations, I’ve become less shy, more confident in speaking with girls, and with everyone else, I’ve become more social. I’ve become better.

I found out that we have a lot in common, similar interests, and I really enjoy her company. She makes me laugh. I can’t speak on her behalf, but I would like to think, actually I know she enjoys my company also. I would like to think that is all it takes for things to work out, but unfortunately life never works that way. Life is never that easy. The thing is I don’t think she’s interested in me in that way. There are some days that I think she is, but I’m really not sure. I’m bad at reading girls. Sure when she first knew me, I wasn’t much of a catch. Not that much different than I am now actually. Now I am some what average looking on a average day, good looking on others, and down right terrible for the rest, but I am damn funny, I can be charming whenever I want to be, I have a great sense of humor, I’m smart, and I’m genuinely a nice guy with a mean streak from time to time. Some what good qualities, right? All right, I’m no catch, but come on…give a man a break here.

Anywho, she’s just not interested. Sometimes I would like to think if our situations were different, she might reconsider. I would think that maybe she does like me, but if only things were different. Thinking about that, nah, that’s not it. She’s just not interested in me in that way. Maybe she’s afraid to jeopardize our friendship, afraid to take that risk. I don’t know what it is, and I don’t think I care anymore. I think I see that it is not worth it because she genuinely isn’t interested. It is a hopeless fight folks.

One thing that I find funny about this thing is that once I’ve gotten myself together, to accept who I am and became comfortable with myself. Once I’ve become confident about myself, comfortable with my looks, just love myself, I feel that I don’t need to be with anyone. I actually enjoy being alone. That silly notion of needing to be with someone to be normal, has gone out the window. That idea is gone, out of my head. I actually enjoy my independence.

I guess what I was trying to say or what I’m trying to say is that I need to move on. I see that things aren’t going to work out, and I think I just need to open my heart out to others, instead of saving it for her. It is kind of pointless to save it for someone who really doesn’t want to be in my heart. I will take our friendship and leave it at that, a great friendship and nothing more and be satisfied with it. I am greatly satisfied with it. My friendship with her is one of the most important things I have down here. I’ll forever cherish it. But it is time for me to move on, to find another person who might be more receptive to my charms. And I think I may have already done that.

I think I will just let my feelings for her die a quiet death like how she would like it, and leave it at that. I’ll just let the next one creep up on me. I think it may already have.

..procrastinating.

Like I said, I am supposed to have my script done tomorrow night for you all. Which means I should have finished it tonight and proofread it tomorrow and revised anything that didn’t work. Well I usually don’t revise, especially the first draft cause I actualy revise as I go, so basically I just need to proof it over when I’m finished. But here I am, procrastinating, sitting in front of my computer, actually lounging in front of my computer, listening to my library of mp3s, not writing a word.

I have everything in my head. There is about 6 scense left to write in about 10 pages. I’m on page 18 now, yet, I can’t write. That’s how it usually is with me. Even with the script I’m rewriting, everything is in my head. I know how it should go, what to write. I could see the movie in my head, scene for scene, but I can’t write it. I can’t put it into words. I’m not inspiired, or maybe I’m scared to finish it. Don’t know why I’m scared. Or maybe I think I’m a terrible writer. Even now, I still have problems with simple grammar. Bad grammar, that is my downfall. Monica and I joke about me taking grammar classes at the local community college. That is how bad my grammar is. It could be that, or I’m scared. And i think it is because I’m scared.

I’m scared that it will not live up to my expectations, or that no one will like it. Like I said last night, I’m sending it to a producer and a friend of mine has already produced, shot, and directed a short. I’m sending it to him also, and another friend who write scripts. Also, I’m sending it to friends that never read my stuff before. It is quite daunting to send friends you hardly know, or just send stuff that you like, or even love to people to read. I’m just afraid to hear what they think. I’m just afraid to get a bad review.

From what I have, I have to say, this is the best thing I’ve written. That is saying a lot. The dialogue is cheesey and bad, yes; that is my major weakness in scripting. But I have to say, it is not as bad as the dialogue in my features. Structure, there is actually structure. The script actually builds up to a climax. The structure is fine, everything is fine, but I’m still scared, cause it is so close to being finished.

Again, I thought of this script months ago, and really thought it through, well not all the way through. I thought about the major plot points and certain scenes and how they should happen, and there are other stuff that I just added to make the script flow better and build more tension. Other than that, not much have changed from then, except the ending, but the essence of the piece is still there from the beginning. An observation of a family. This one actually lived up to my expectations without changing much. My other scripts changed as I went through the writing process; I thought of something else to add, or took it in another direction than I originally intended. This one I stuck with it.

Since conception, I knew this would be the first film of mine that I will produce and shoot. I just don’t know when, but I knew this will be my piece, my calling card. Mr. Carver estimated with his film that it is $1,000 a minute. My script is aiming to be 25-30 minutes, which mean big bucks. I don’t have that kind of money, but I have faith that something will happen and it will get made. Keep in mind that this is only the first draft. To me, everything that I placed in the script has a purpose, is there and cannot be excised. That is the mentality of a writer; it is tough to cut what you write and love.

I know that there will be subsequent drafts that will slim down the script; tighten it up a little bit, to make it flow better. So the costs might drop down a few bucks. Here’s to hopeing.

So I guess I’m writing now to get whatever procrastination I needed to get out of my system. As long as I could get two or three pages out tonight, that will leave me with the 3rd act. Five pages to do tomorrow and I’ll be finished, and my script will face the critics.

Maybe I’m just not depressed enough to write.

I have a mo-hawk today. I feel cool.

…laundromat.

I met a independent film producer. She mainly produces shorts. She has her own production company, she’s gone to school, blah blah blah. She’s done stuff, produced many student shorts and other things. We talked.

Well I was going through my romantic comedy script to refresh my memory of what I wrote about. I found an ad the other day looking for a romantic comedy script, and I took my shot and replied to it. They haven’t asked for my script yet, and I’m not sure if they will, but I sent them a description of my script. It is Sleepless in Seattle meets Serendipity with a touch of Office Space. I finished the script last July and sent it to everyone to peruse. It was submitted to Project Greenlight and there were some reviews of the script. Out of 7 reviews, only two gave it medium scores, the others thought it was terrible. Some say it was pretentious and show offy. Of the 2 decent reviews, many liked the beginning and the ending, but I lost them in the second act. I see the problem, and will fix it up eventually. But anyway, I have to sign a release form that protects the production company, giving them the right to look at my script. They need a description of the plot, and so I need to go through my script. I got one of my character’s name wrong when I wrote them the brief description. I should have looked through it last night when I was responding to the ad.

Anyway, I’m reading the script, to refresh my mind, and this lady walks by and asks if I’m reading a screenplay, and I said yeah. She asked if I wrote it, and of course, yes. Anywho we just started talking, she told me her story, and how she went to film school and thought that it was a waste of time. She started a production company 3 years ago. There were good times and there were bad times.

Her website is http://deewrightproductions.tripod.com

But anywho, we talked, and she encouraged me to keep writing. To write everyday. Writing is like playing basketball, you have to keep writing to learn the craft, and to get better. And eventually, through hard work and perseverance, I will make it someday. These are things I’ve heard of course, mainly from Mr. Carver, and I’m going to try to stick to that. Write everyday, and everyday I will. She told me it doesn’t have to be a script that I’m writing, but just to keep writing. I guess this is what my journal is for.

I told her I’m working on a short right now and I’ll send her a copy to look over when I’m finished. I should have the short finished on Saturday, hopefully. Anywho, I think I’m going to send it in to her to read. Nothing may come of it, or she may steal it (being the cynic that I am). I don’t know, and at the moment, I don’t care. It’s a big risk, but its a chance if something does come out of it.

Then something disappointing came to my attention.

On the drive home I decided to pull into Jack-in-the-Box to buy some dinner. You know my love for the $0.99 menu. I pulled up, and what do you know, the Jumbo Jack is no longer $0.99. It is $1.29. I felt jipped. The Jumbo Jack is a staple of mine from Jack-in-the-Box because it is a decent burger, and it is cheap. So I bought a crappy Bacon Ultimate Cheeseburger meal instead. How disappointing. So now, I am officially retracting from my list of things that makes me happy, the Jack-in-the-Box $0.99 menu. I don’t think there will be anything that will replace that. Atleast I still have the Albertson’s fried chicken.

These past couple of days have been very eye opening for me. Well I wouldn’t say eye opening like, wow, that blows my mind and such, but I would say that it was refreshing. A friend of mine told me things that I never thought she would. What she told me really made me understand her better, to see where she’s coming from. It was very personal. I’m sure it was tough for her to tell me what she did, and if you are reading this, I want to thank you for it. See, it isn’t that bad to share is it?

It helped put things in perspective, well kind of. Hearing what she told me, and thinking about what I had, it really opened my eyes to see how grateful I should be for what I had growing up, It just blows my mind to hear her say these things, and me just not comprehending it because I never experienced these things. It helped me understand why she’s the way she is.

Also yesterday, I had a really pleasant conversation with another friend. She made me realize that yes, I am a cynic like the great Ella said I was. I was just to blind to see. It’s funny how I never saw any of these things, my cynicism, my stubborness, until they were pointed out to me. For the longest time last year Stephanie was frustrated with me because of my stubborness. Being stubborn, I told her that I wasn’t stubborn. But now I see that I am. I take after my father.

Like now, with my friends help, I actually understand what it means to be a cynic. I guess I never really understood the definition, or the concept of being cynic. Now I do, and yes I am a cynic. I want to apologize to my friend and say you are right, I am wrong.

Well talking with my friend yesterday was great. I rarely get to talk to her because she works at a different part of the office. In our short (about 1.5 hours) conversation yesterday, I see her differently now. I guess I see her flaws and her vulnerability because I see her and understand her better. She helped put things in perspective. Before, she’s always been this unapproachable person, a person I work with, a person I know I would like to get to know better. She was a mystery. Before I would just think of her as the beautiful girl with everything going her way. (As you can probably tell, I put everyone I like on a untouchable pedestal. She has no flaws and is perfection) That there isn’t any kind of internal conflict or any troubles like those she told me. I didn’t see that, or wouldn’t have known until she told me. It was totally shocking to hear that, especially from her. I mean, wow, here’s a girl, out of my league like the other one is, and she has problems just like me. I was very surprised to hear her tell me what she did (sure I may be self deluding myself to believe that I’m special and she is just telling me and no one else, but in actuality she tells everyone this) and so soon.

We barely know each other, we rarely have talks. Well I wouldn’t say we barely know each other..we know enough. When we talk, most of the time it will be work related or the “Hi, How are you”s, the formalities. To me, what she told me are very personal things, well atleast, I think they are personal. They were things about herself, how she thinks of herself, and how she sees herself. I guess I’m just very surprised to hear her tell me these things when we barely know each other and so soon. I mean it took me a while to get any thing personal from my current infatuation. Well, maybe she’s just reciprocating because of the things I tell her. Everyone knows I’m a very open person, and I’ll tell you very personal things about me. Maybe she’s just returning the favor, or she feels comfortable with me. Who knows. She’s a girl, and I know jack diddly squat about them.

So, slowly I am getting to know her, and hopefully I could get to know her better. But at the moment, I am content with what she told me.

Anywho, I need to start finishing my script. I’m halfway done. Yeah. You all should receive a draft sometime this weekend or early next week.

I’m writing again, I’m also cleaning. Well I haven’t started cleaning yet, but slowly getting into the mood. That can only mean one thing. I’m depressed.

It snuck up on me Friday night I think. I’m not sure. Just know that I woke up on Saturday morning depressed.

I don’t know why I’m depressed though. It still could be my father, or it could be something else. Maybe I know I need to start writing again so I worked myself into being depressed. Or I could be thinking about my father. Who knows how my mind works. I sure as hell don’t.

Well I’m working on a short right now. I got this idea for a script a couple of months ago, but I held it off cause I want to finish my rewrite of the first script that I did. But that will take forever cause I’ve lost my train of thought on that one. So I guess I’ll just start with this short. I’m aiming for 30 pages or shorter. I’ll send it out to you all when I’m finished, hopefully.

Ohhh…what is troubling me. I think it is the weather. It’s been cloudy down here for the past 2 weeks or so. It’s not pretty at all. Sure I love the rain, I love cloudy days, but to some extent. My moods are really dependent on the weather. Up north, I was depressed a lot mainly because of the lack of sun. Every day is a gloomy day, so I was in a gloomy mood. Now it seems that every day down here is a gloomy day.

I need to do something. Photography class isn’t coming fast enough.

I went to my friend’s son’s first birthday party this Saturday. I enjoyed myself. I had a good time. I was out and about, socializing with a bunch of people I don’t know. Not bad for me. I’ve taken some pictures. Just got them back.

I suck. None of them look any good. Well maybe one or two, but that is it. Gosh, I really need help. Hopefully the photography class is worth it.

I ask this question to this empty void. Am I a responsible person? Do I know what is right and what is wrong? Don’t I know how to take care of myself? I would like to think so. I would like to think I am capable of taking care of myself without anyone worrying about me. I would like to know that when I’m drunk, or when I’m incapable of driving, I wouldn’t drive.

I got a call from my mom yesterday. She’s working on the weekends, against my wishes of course. I guess it is her way with dealing with things, as mine is with writing. But she doesn’t trust my judgments in making friends. She thinks I drink because the people I associate with forced her nice little innocent boy into drinking. I did this mom. I started drinking because I wanted to drink. I made that choice on my own, without any pressure from anyone. And the kicker is, I started before I came down here. I started in college.

So like I said, I was at the party, and she called. She asked where I was and I told her. She then proceeded to give me an inquisition on who this friend is, and then went on to tell me not to drink and not to drive. She gave me the guilt trip that I needed to take care of myself because my dad’s not here anymore.

I guess I just want people to stop babying me. Grant it I’m not the smartest guy or I make the right decisions all of the time, but I would like to think that she trusts me and that I’m responsible.

Actually I think there is a conspiracy between my uncles to get me to go home. Out of the blue, I got a call from two of my uncles today. I guess they wanted me to touch base with them and to see if I’ve been calling my mom. Well I haven’t called, because she’s been calling me. But I do intend to call every week. I’m not that cold hearted. Maybe I am; maybe they see that and that is why they are calling. One of the uncles proceeded to lecture me on drinking. Things I’ve heard and understand and know. I’m getting babied all over.

Do I seem that fragile to you all. Am I about to break and I don’t know it? Sure I believe that for some reason I’m to in touch with my feminine side, and that I am very sensitive (I’m probably the most sensitive guy I know, crying at movies and commercials for pete sake. I need help.), but I’ve always believed that I’m a strong person. Aren’t I? Or am I just deluding myself into believing that again.

I was asked this question last night. Julie asked if I am any closer to move home. I don’t know. I told her I haven’t thought about it in a while, and honestly I haven’t. I’m trying not to think about anything, or it. But if I must, I will.

Am I going to move home? At the moment, no. I need my time down here. I need my time alone, away from family, away from the pressures of everything. I want to keep my distance. I just don’t want to be smothered. I want my time to think about things, to digest things, to reevaluate things. Ask me in a couple months, and sure, I will probably say the same. In the next year, I don’t know. That is just to far away. I don’t want to think so far away anymore. I’ve been doing that all my life. It is time for me to stop and focus on now. And now, I don’t want to move home. I just don’t.

I’ve been going through my friend’s journal. She posted something on my birthday about me:

12:39 pm – I’m getting older
Today is my darling Phongielson’s 24th birthday, which means that in exactly one month, I will be 24 too.

I did the calculations today, and realized that Phong and I have known each other for half of our lives now. It’s startling, because I’ll forever think of Phong as the pipsqueak in 7th grade health class with the cute voice, or the cynical young man I walked with at high school graduation. I never thought of the fact that someday, I will know Phong the husband and father, or Phong the old man. When did this aging thing happen?? And what can I do to make it stop?

One part really struck me as fascinating and odd. I’m cynical. I’ve never thought I was cynical. I’ve always thought that I am very idealistic. Am I really cynical? I really don’t think so. Thinking back, thinking about how I was. I really can’t see that.

Well it is said that other people see you more clearly than you could because you are biased. You are self-indulgent and refuse to see the way you really are; see your flaws. You work it in your mind to see yourself in one way and that way in particular. I think of myself as an idealist. Do I seem like an idealist to you, or is my friend correct and that I am a cynic?

If that is the case, then I am living a lie. Everything I see about myself, everything I think I am is all a lie. Was I truly becoming happy? I believed that I was. But reading this, thinking about it, I am doubting myself. So those times I was in highschool, manic; was I really truly depressed? Or was I imagining things.

I don’t know any more. I don’t know anything. Wouldn’t it be nice to not remember anything, just to forget, forget, forget. No memories, no doubts, no thoughts. You just wake up refreshed, learning everything again. Start each day new with that person you hate and not knowing you hate them, or that crush, and seeing her totally different again. Thinking that you are falling for them for the first time and not realizing you did this before and got yourself burned time and time again. Oh to forget.

I want to forget. I want to forget everything, everyone. Then I can truly be myself. I can truly be a hermit.

Here I am sitting in front of my computer listening to The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy on cd, not paying attention, writing the list of things that makes me happy.

Lisa practically forced me to do it. Even though she’s over 1200 miles away, she has this particular control over me, having me sit down and type. Type out my list of things that makes me happy. Like I said in yesterdays post, it is supposed to be a simple list, a list of finer things. Lisa said it is a exercise that will make me view life in a totally different way, to have me not take what I have for granted.

She wants a complete list, but I don’t know how complete the list can be considering different things at different times makes me happy. So today at work, she commanded me to make a list of 30 things. Well should I go Letterman style, or just list a list? It is simpler to list a list. Here goes:

1. Jeans. They’re comfortable. Boot cut, they actually look good on me. Go figure.
2. Sandals. Come on, my toes need to breath.
3. Post it notes. They are a life saver.
4. IM, most ingenious way for people who hate phones to keep in touch.
5. MP3s. Great mixed CDs. Cheap too, especially if you don’t get caught.
6. Walking in the rain. It cleanses the soul. I miss the rain in sunny California.
7. Having a conversation with someone (especially a girl) without awkward pauses. It shows that I can actually socialize. Yeah!!!
8. Laughing. It heals the soul.
9. Weird dreams. It helps me think.
10. Children. Their innocence and carefree nature just puts a smile on my face.
11. The time Lisa and I went to Jenny’s house last year. Well, I got drunk off of 3 Mike’s Hard CranLeomonade and Jenny had 2. It was fun, 3 old friends living 3 different lives just catching up and eating cat food and cheese.
12. My traditional outings with Lisa. It’s good to hang out with an old friend and just talk, drive, watch movies, and reminisce. It started sophomore year in college. It was winter break and she called me up to go out and catch up. We saw Waking Ned Devine that night. A enjoyable movie. Afterward we went to Jenny’s house to see what she was up to. She got engaged, but my how things have changed. Lisa and I kept that tradition every year since. It was Being John Malkovich the year after and Best in Show the year after that. Now every time I go home, I try to make room for her.
13. My first 3 months down in LA with Suong, Stacey, Vicky, and Kathy. There’s just something about living with 4 girls. I was actually social, because I actually had to.
14. The crew at work. Great people.
15. The time I had my first real drink. I was with Loretta and Kimmie at Rams at the U-Village. I had a Tiffany’s margarita on the rocks. After my first sip, I was gone. Everything was in slow motion, and I was swearing like a sailor, a little to loud too. Ahhh the memories.
16. Seeing people laugh because of me. It means I’m funny.
17. Word processing. Oh, how I hate writing long hand and I can’t read my own handwriting most of the time.
18. Watching movies alone.
19. Family get togethers, especially now-a-days. I really like going back home after a long time down south and seeing family, catching up with them, hearing about what is happening in their lives.
20. Sing, “Tool”, “Little Girl”, and “Cloud”. New additions to my life. These kids are just cute and adorable. They never cease to make me laugh or smile.
21. Walking for the sake of walking. Exercise and time to think all at the same time.
22. Whenever I write something that I think is good. It gives me a feeling that I’ve accomplished something.
23. When I finished my first feature screenplay. I thought that day would never come. Even though no one liked it, I really enjoyed what I wrote. It was back during a time when I didn’t think about writing or what I wrote; I just wrote. Didn’t think about the structure, or be so self conscious about what I wrote. Words just flowed on screen, to paper and it created something.
24. The day I left my old life and started a new one. The day I moved down to California. My parents drove down with me, supporting this move, my dream. It was liberating.
25. Albertson’s fried chicken meal. $5.99 for 8 piece of really good chicken, a pound of salad and four rolls. Can’t beat that. It is a weekly staple.
26. Jack-in-the-Box’s $0.99 menu. $4.00 + change and you are good to go.
27. The times I make Monica smile and laugh. She’s a tough woman to please most of the time. Glad to know that she thinks I’m funny, even though most of the time it is at my expense.
28. Talking with Monica. She’s still as paranoid as ever though.
29. 4th of July back in the 80’s. When my brother and I would go to 2nd Uncle’s house or Dat’s house and we would just play with fireworks all day. Ahhh I was young, carefree, and stupid back then.
30. The first day that I went out drinking with friends from the Zoo Store. It was Todd’s birthday party, and Krista invited me. I got drunk, wasted, almost got in a bar fight; it was fun.
31. Bunny ears/TV antennas. It gives me pictures when the cable doesn’t work. Cheap too.
32. My daily emails with my brother. Never talked to him as much in my whole life until these past two years corresponding through email…talking about movies, music, television.
33. Television. It gives me a excuse to not exercise and to not write.
34. Once in a while taking a picture that actually looks good. Cause it sucks to waste film.
35. Stephanie. She pushes and pushes me to do better. She brought me under her wing at work when I first came in. She’s my mentor, even though most of the time she annoys me.
36. How I got to dance with Amber, my highschool crush, during the prom. It is a sweet story.
37. My dance with Lisa at the prom. She brightened up a terrible evening.
38. Bell review in Ms. Bohna’s class in the 8th grade. I was unstoppable.
39. My sense of humor. I need it.
40. Music. It helps me think.
41. The first time I watched Amelie and Moulin Rouge. They just brought a big smile to my face.
42. Watching Wong Kar Wai’s Chungking Express I have a greater appreciation for film because of it. It change the way I look at film. That was in 1997.
43. The day that I decided that I was going to move down to LA to try my way in the film industry. It gave my life direction.
44. The summers I was working during college. It gave me a feeling I was on my own, making my own way. It prepared me for what I’m doing now.
45. The night Kevin, Julio, Stephanie, Heather and I went out to Don Antonio’s for $0.99 tacos and Margaritas after work. Later Kevin, Julio, Stephanie and I went to get some beer and went ka-ra-o-ke-ing. We sang, and sang; felt Like a Virgin and I Touch Myself. Great night, but the aftermath was terrible. All the tacos came back up.
46. April 10, 2003. Best birthday. I actually had fun. Aftermath, didn’t care for. The Pico-de-Gayo scared the crap out of me, floating in the toilet.
47. Gong back home and watching the Food Network. Best channel ever. Bar none. To bad I can’t afford cable.
48. Seeing my father loosen up and get drunk last year during my grandmother’s memorial feast. I’ve never seen him like that before. He was happy, he was free.
49. January 2003. When I really started to feel better about myself and began my process of becoming happy. It was also around that time when I actually felt home sick. It took me a year and a half down here before I got home sick and wanted to go home and I did. I went back for Chinese New Year’s. That was the last time I saw my father.
50. The day that my parents finally arrive at Fresno when I first came down two summers ago. That night Maggie took Dat and I to Yoshinos for some sushi, beer, and some saki bombs. Afterwards, drunk, red, and giggling like a little school girl, I had dinner with my parents and Dat’s parents. It was funny, it was dangerous, and I couldn’t stop laughing.
51. February 2002. Went up to Fresno to visit Maggie and Loretta who was down in Fresno for something. We went out to dinner and I asked for a beer. Ever since, Gi Fu buys beer for me whenever I go up to visit.
52. The day I moved out and lived on my own. One dream checked off.
53. The day I got home after my grandmother died and I saw my father next door. He gave me a big smile and a big wave. It brought a smile to my face.
54. To know that I’m not angry with my parents anymore, especially knowing that before my father died.
55. The weekly calls from my father, hearing his voice. He sounded happy.
56. Knowing Nick is like me, afraid to go for it.
57. To see how surprised everyone at work was to see I have hair after I came back from my grandmother’s memorial. They all liked it. To quote Jordan, I was “pimping it.” Danielle said I actually looked cool. Then I had problems and shaved it off.
58. My hair now. I wouldn’t be able to wear it 3 years ago, because I wouldn’t have the self-esteem to.
59. Photography. A old hobby I am trying to pick up again.
60. Singing. It just eases the mind.
61. My very eclectic and piss poor taste in music. It makes Monica laugh. According to her, I have the sensibilities of a 13 year old girl. Ahh so true, so true.
62. The Britney Spears concert. It’s a guilty pleasure.
63. My first Thanksgiving up in Fresno. Wow, ate to much.
64. This journal. It helped get a lot of things that needed to come out out.
65. Even though I hate it, but hearing my mom call me “Baby.” I am no longer Phong to her, but “Baby.” I don’t even think she remembers my name.
66. The Thanksgiving that I went up to Whistler mountain with some family and the Smith’s. I almost broke my back, but it was fun.
67. The first time I rode the Goliath at Six Flags with Luigi and Michelle. That was a big mutha.
68. To know I’m not a lone.
69. Boxers. They are very liberating.
70. Assistants. I could push work on them. Also, it makes me feel important.
71. Pens, cause I can’t write in pencil anymore.
72. The 20 dollar bill. The best denomination.
73. To know that some girls actually have a crush on me. Even though 3 out of the 4 are pre-highschool. It still means something. I think.
74. Keira Knightly and Natalie Portman. One blonde, the other brunette, but they both look alike. One in each color. They are purdy.

All right, judging by the last entry, I’ve ran out of things. I’m sure I could think of more, but I think I went over what Lisa asked for, which was 30. Now Ms. Spink, are you happy now?

Well this is my second posting of the day. What happened to the first? I didn’t save it. I wrote my first draft in this program, but as i exited the program so I could log onto it and post my draft..it didn’t save, even though I pressed the save button.

It was somewhat good too…philosophical self indulgent ramblings of my life. Can’t get better than that. Even quoted Joss Whedon through Spike. Oh to have it be saved.

What did I write about, well I wrote about feeling drugged up, depressed, and being lectured by my friend Lisa on happiness, and how I am healing.

I went through a round about way of realizing that I need to stop fantasizing/dreaming about the future and stop reflecting on the past and the good ol’ innocent days of my childhood, to stop looking back at the mistakes, the misopportunities and the choices I’ve made in my life.

Then I went on about me stopping and smelling the proverbial roses. About how Lisa thinks I need to stop thinking so big and need to think simpler on the finer things in life, the small things that makes me happy…Things that aren’t family, or friends, or my independence. Need to focus on the small things like my jeans, or my sandals, or little post its, these type of things that makes me happy.

I also wrote about how Lisa quoted Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and what he sang in the musical episode. Basically that life isn’t bliss, life is just this plain meager existence, and that we have to go through life, and live life to heal and all that good stuff. That life is life.

What I wrote was good. I’m a little upset that that draft didn’t save. I’m a little perturbed at the moment.

Anywho, I finally realize that I am finally “living” life and I am making a conscious effort to live in the NOW and to stop focusing on the future and stop reflecting in the past.

There was even a little bit part where Ms. Kate Kaplan sort of revived that drive in me to go and take classes. I’ve always wanted to go back and take classes, and it is because of her and also Monica; and the fact that there isn’t anything on television anymore, to go back and take classes. I am going to take a photography class.

Well, I would write more, but I lost the inspiration because I just can’t believe the draft didn’t save…..stupid program…stupid computer…Errrghghgghhghghgggggghhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am okay today. It feels good to let everyone in, to let these feelings out. I’m glad I did it.

Now to offer some thanks to some people.

To family, for being there. I thank you. You will always be with me, in everything I do.

Those that wrote me. Thank you. Though we don’t keep in touch as often as we’d all like, I’m really glad to hear from you. I’ll try to take those comforting and consoling words to heart, but it may take time. I will write you back….eventually. I just haven’t gotten to it because honestly, I still can’t get through your words without tears. Until I am able to, you will have to be patient, but just know that I am all right, and I am grateful.

To Mr. Carver, I thank you for whatever it is that you’ve done. I’m sure it is something and I thank you. Your son is just absolutely adorable. Thank you for bringing him in. It really made my day, my week. You really have something there, cherish him.

To Duwi, my new friend. Thanks for the talk and hug.

Dawn, Claude, thank you for the time.

To Stephanie, for clearing my mind and getting things out on the first day. Thank you for being there, for being a friend. I’m glad I’ve met you.

To the fabulous Ella Spink. I can’t think of any words…..but I hope you know how I feel.

Mr. Flavin, thanks for helping me out with my work, and go for it.

The wonderful Ms. Kaplan. Thank you for doing my job, for taking on my duties and helping me out while I was gone. I would have been in trouble if it wasn’t for you. I know I’ve thanked you before, but I just want you to know how grateful and how appreciative I am for what you did. I do hope that one day we will become better friends than we are now.

Finally to the ‘flipper offer of nine year olds’. You know who you are and I’m sure from the content, many others will know also.

There is so much I want to say to you but I just don’t know how. But after a long break from writing, I think I may have found the words that I want to express to you. Don’t worry, it is not one of those letters..that will come later. It is not time to say goodbye yet, but when it is time to say farewell, I will bid you adieu. I was about to take it that way, but I decided not to. It is better to take it in the direction I am taking it in, cause I still need what we have. I can’t let go yet; not just yet.

This is my first week back to work, obviously it was tough. Work piled on my desk, things I need to sort through at work and in my head, many things that needed to be done. But you helped me ease in.

I would like to think we have something special between us. Maybe I have deluded myself into believing that we do, but deep inside, I’m pretty sure we don’t.

Well, you kept my mind off of things I shouldn’t be thinking about. You kept most of my work time, most of the time that we spent together talking about something else. Keeping my mind off of the things that I’ve written about before. You kept me sane. You made me laugh, you made me smile, I was very touched when you asked if I was “OKAY”.

When you told me that you were possessed by your hand and flipped off that nine year old girl (she was nine at the time, honestly she’s not that mean, but now I really think she would flip off a nine year old) it just made me laugh, made me smile, cause honestly it was one of the funniest things that you’ve ever told me. Especially when you told me that your conscience was guilt ridden and you broke down and confessed to your mother, classic.

It was some what personal, on some level it was, and you know how hard it is for me to get anything personal out of you. It is difficult, like a 3 year old trying to twist open a new bottle of pickles, nearly impossible. You told me anyway. It means a lot to me, even though it wasn’t as personal as some other things you’ve told me, but it was enough, it was something about you. You trust me, and most importantly you knew it would make me laugh, and you knew that it is something that I would like to know about you.

Like I told you, I enjoy the time we spend together, I enjoy talking to you, even though our conversations are strictly at work and maybe superficial, about the television shows that we watch, about interesting movies that we’ve seen or want to see, and sometimes about our families. I enjoy it. I have someone to talk to, someone to make me laugh and smile. I have someone to make laugh and to make smile, someone to charm her socks off (you know I’m charming). It is something that I never had before, but now I do. As much as I would like to have this turn into something more, unfortunately it will never happen. I see that now, but can I pretend just a little longer?

Thinking back to the first day I’ve met you, the first day I’ve spoken to you, when I asked you out the first time, and again and again, the silent times we spent together, conversations we had, I’ve come to one conclusion. You are one of the biggest reasons why I’ve found peace in myself. You are one of the reasons why I am happy with myself. You had a hand in shaping me into me. I have to say, I am more confident, bolder, happier than when you first met me. I think you have noticed that also in our conversations in the past couple of months, and especially these past few days. You are the one who did that.

So I, now, want to give you the deepest and the most sincere thank you. Thank you. I hope that we can continue to share these moments even when we part our ways. I mean that.

One final note, everything I told you before I left on Friday, I mean it too.

Today I did something that I didn’t think I would have done. I broke down and I couldn’t control it.

It was during my meeting with my supervisor, Dawn. We have a weekly meeting to go over the things that I plan on tackling in the week. That usually takes about a minute or two, nothing to much. Knowing that my father passed away, she asks how I am doing. I just tell her that I’m just thinking about many things; about my future, my past, what happened, just a flood of things. It got to the point about the direction I want to take my life, my future. I told her that I plan on leaving the company soon, that it is something I must do to get to the place I want to be, the place I moved down to LA for.

I lost it. I cracked, floods of emotions starts to ooze out and I couldn’t control it. I moved down to LA to pursue a dream, and I haven’t even come close, not a millimeter in the direction I want to go. I moved away from my family, my father to accomplish this dream, and I am no closer to it. I couldn’t keep the emotions in anymore.

Dawn kindly enough moved our meeting into her office, behind closed doors, and everything just came out.

My guilt in my father’s death.

I caused his death. Even though Dawn said that it wasn’t so, I still don’t believe her. I caused my father’s death because I left. I keep thinking this will never happen if I didn’t leave. He would never have taken that second job if I haven’t left. He wouldn’t feel lonely, or out of place as a father, as a provider if I didn’t leave.

You see, he was the man of the house, the provider. Even though he makes less than my mom, he’s the provider, the patriarch. He keeps the family intact. I left, and I guess there might be a sense of empty nest. Even though my mother is home and my brother, he probably didn’t feel like he’s doing anything. He has no one to provide for.

My parents paid my and my brother’s way through college. Now that we’ve graduated, he doesn’t need to do that any more. We both got jobs, independent and on our own. We do not need our parent’s assistance anymore. I guess with that burden lifted, there is a void missing where that use to be. He doesn’t feel like a father anymore, he doesn’t feel like a provider anymore, so he takes on another responsibility, another job. The poor stubborn man worked himself to death, and I blame myself. If only I didn’t leave. Things would get have turned out differently.

Going home was difficult for me, cause I didn’t know how I should feel. All my thoughts that were going through my head were selfish ones. What do I do now? Should I move back? I don’t want to move back, but you have to because your mom needs you? What should I do? Are these thoughts normal? Such selfishness I felt, such indulgence in myself. All I could think about was myself. I didn’t want to go through that cause I know if I went back I will have to deal with it. Also I know my family would be there to offer consoling words that I do not deserve.

My father loved me, I know. He calls me every week just to say ‘Hi’ and to see how I’m doing. But to hear my cousins say that I was his favorite, that he always smiled while I was in the room, or that I made him proud; I couldn’t take it. I didn’t deserve to hear those words, not in a million years. I didn’t deserve it because I wasn’t there. I left him and my family behind to pursue a dream that I have no way of reaching. I just left him. So take those words back, cause I can’t bear to take those consolations. They don’t belong to me, they belong to my brother.

He’s there at home. He has a good career, doing something that he likes, something that makes my parents proud. Unlike me the bastard, ungrateful son who left to pursue an unreachable dream. They didn’t know that a main reason for me to move down was to get away from my parents. He never knew that. My brother should hear those consoling words, cause they belong to him more.

So I’m home, crying, hearing these words, and I’m crying more cause they are lies. They are words that I do not want to hear. Please take them back.

Most of the week before the funeral, I couldn’t sleep. I keep thinking about many things. My future, the past, and about my father and what a great man he was. I wrote an email to my friend Stephanie telling her what emotions I’m feeling. Here is what I wrote cause I don’t think I can write these words again:

Hey Steph,

How are you doing? I hope you are doing fine.

I wanted to thank you again for calling and talking with me. I really
appreciate it. Thank you.

I just wanted to let you know that I am fine, and so is my family. My
brother took care of most of the paperwork with the life insurance, and the
rest of my family (my uncles and cousins) are helping out with the
arrangements and everything. They are so great for being there for us.
Everything is all good to go. The service is going to be this Saturday.
All we do now is wait till the rest of my uncles and aunt get here from out
of town and stuff.

My brother got everything planned out and knows what he needs to do
financially and everything. We just have to transfer everything to my mom’s
name and we’ll do that next week. I have to say that I never thought that
my brother was so strong, holding together like this. I’m here for my mom,
taking care of her, getting her what she needs, and my brother is taking
care of everything else. I know I wouldn’t be able to handle it the way
that he did…maybe now, but not when I got home.

My mother is doing fine. She’s holding strong, but like me, she breaks down
once in a while. She’s a strong woman. Hearing her talk to my aunts and
hearing how she blames herself, it just kills me. What if she went into the
bedroom sooner, what if she made him go see the doctor when he said that his
chest was hurting? instead of just letting him be. He said that he was fine
and she left it at that.

My father is a stubborn man. I guess that’s where I get my stubborness
from. As much as I get compared to my father; i look like him, i’m
respectful to everyone like he was to others; i’m not like him at all. I’m
not a good man like he was, like he is. I don’t think I’ll ever be.

Sunday was a very emotional day for me. i couldn’t keep myself together and
my brother was cool as a cat. The consoling words that my cousins said, I
couldn’t take them. I didn’t want to hear them because I didn’t deserve
them. They said I made my father proud, that I was his favorite. I didn’t
make him proud. i haven’t done anything to make him proud. What have I
done for myself, what have i done for him or my family. nothing. I left
them and I’m just sitting on my ass wasting my life away. Yeah, that really
made my father proud. I cried and cried. now there are no more tears. but
i’m doing much better because of it. I’m moviing on, and focusing on the
things that needs to get done.

I haven’t seen my father yet. friday is the viewing. I’m gonna try and see
him when I am alone. I don’t think i can handle it with someone there.
someone consoling me. i don’t deserve that.

These past few days and nights, all i could do is think, think about what it
is like to be without him, and to be on my own. I don’t like it, i don’t
want it. what a lonely liife i live. He won’t be there when I get married.
He wouldn’t see my children, and my children wouldn’t get to know their
grandfather and what a great man he was.

All i think about is him and my life. how he had this glow on his face when
he first saw me when I got up here after my grandmother died, and how that
touched me. i will never see him happy again. I think about the last time
that we saw each other. He was leaving for work and I was packing up to
leave. He told me to take care. I didn’t give him a hug, or say I love
him. I just told him okay and told him to do the same. How cold am I? How
emotionally detached I am…to not be able to say I love you, or to give him
a hug. I’m a rotten son. Even now, I can’t even say these words to my mom.

What is wrong with me? Maybe I should be alone.

Well,certainly if you were having a great week, you aren’t having one now.
Sorry for it to be so depressing. I just need to get some of these things
out. If i didn’t, I wouldn’t know what i would do.

Anywho, have a good day, and take care.

Phong

My children, my marriage, all big events in my life that my father will never be a part of. I would never have imagined it. I have always believed that he would be there to share in my happiness, and it would make him more happy, but it will never come true. There’s an emptiness in my life now, and emptiness that will never be filled. He was a big part of my life. I am the man I am today because of him and I didn’t even get to say good bye or that I loved him.

I’ve always had a strange way of thinking about things. It started ever since I was younger, in highschool. I would always think that if I daydream about certain things; about getting that girl at school, or making it big someway, or becoming popular; that they would never come true. Cause I did that, I would daydream about silly things, stupid things, and sometimes morbid things; and they all would never come true. So being the morbid person that I am, a few weeks ago I thought about my father passing. What would I do if I would get a call like the one I got from my brother saying that my mom or my dad died? What would I have done? They were just foolish thoughts, and it will never happen, but it did. My father died because I thought of these thoughts. As foolish as it sounds, even as I’m writing it, it is true. I believe it. It happened a couple years ago with my grandmother. I told Dawn, when she was hiring me for a full time position, that my grandmother is very ill and might not make it. Sure enough two weeks later, she passed away.

I have a lethal mind. I didn’t mean to write this to break the somber tone, it isn’t for comedic relief, it is what truly happened. It is what I truly believe. I cause their deaths. It has to be. No son, no grandson, should be thinking about those thoughts period. I don’t care how imaginative you are, it is something he shouldn’t do, but I did and now they are dead.

Even when Dawn pointed out how foolish I was to believe in that, I still couldn’t believe her. Why? I don’t know. Maybe I need to find a reason, a meaning to his death. Why did he had to go, what have he done? Life is unfair.

Shit happens. That is my motto. I sort of live by it, but I never thought the shit would happen to me at this scale. I always thought if shit happen, it will happen to me alone; not to my parents or my family. I guess I’m wrong.

I’m just going through confused emotions that I just can’t sort out. I need to get them out; I need to get these thoughts out. I don’t want to think anymore, I don’t want to feel.

Sometimes I would think of stupid things I could do to numb the pain; drinking, cutting myself or worse. But are they the answers? I just don’t want to feel anymore. Why do I have to feel? Why can’t I just go about being heartless and cold, not capable of feeling emotions? Why can’t I? I did it a while ago. I moved down here right after college. I didn’t even spend extra time up there with my parents, I couldn’t wait to get away, and now I just want to take everything back so I can have him back.

So now I’m back here in LA, a jumbled mess, a roller coaster of emotions. Dawn said that it was the right move to come back down, to be by myself to sort things out, to think things through without the influences of family. I have to do this on my own. I have to deal with these emotions on my own, then make my decision. What I’m feeling, and how I’m thinking, this selfishness that is within me, is natural. All natural thoughts because we are wired to be selfish; it drives our existence. I just don’t believe it, it is just me who is being foolish and selfish.

I’m sure that for others they do not think about themselves but they think about their families. They think about being there for them, being strong and help get through the tough times. I didn’t do that. I just thought about myself. And here I am, abandoning my mother and my brother.

I hope these feelings go away with time. Dawn said it took her 10 years to get over her mother’s death. 10 years. For me it should take 100 for what I’ve done. I should never feel happiness again cause once I do, it will happen again. It is something I do not want to experience.

This is supposed to make me stronger, bolder, more confident. I don’t feel that way, I just feel guiltier, sadder, weaker.