I take a deep breath as I sit here at my usual usual trying to collect my thoughts and trying to figure out how to write this post. There’s a lot on my mind as of late. There are the server issues that this website is hosted on. It’s down. There are the changes that my one and only good friend here in Los Angeles is picking up and moving home on Sunday morning. And there’s the other thought that I just turned a new number.

I’m 34, 34, 34, 34. It’s that time again for the yearly ramblings of what being a new number means. I’m another year older, another year wiser. Another year.

I know I say this time and time again, but it is so true. Time flies. It figuratively coasts through everything that we do our lives and just disappears as it ticks away. Our life is just a bitch to time. We are bitches to time.

I’m 34.

* * *

What can I say about being 33? It was definitely a difficult age for me. I took a gander at something that I wrote last year during this time, an article that I linked to saying that 33 is the best age for men.

Looking back at how my year was, it wasn’t. It was a year of constant wondering what is happening with me. I touched upon it that it was my year of a mid-life crisis. It definitely was. There was something definitely wrong with me last year.

My body felt weird. My mind felt weird. I couldn’t focus on anything or get myself motivated to do anything at all. I was a bitch to this blahness that was me. A bitch bitch. I don’t like being a bitch.

I would like to think that things got better as the year ended and even in the last few months. I was able to focus and to write and to do some things, but there were times where I wasn’t able to and I still haven’t figured out why.

It wasn’t a total lost at least. There were some moments of being 33 that I can look back on and think, hey, I’m doing good. I’m happy. Everything is going to be all right. I feel normal. And there was moments like that. There were moments of brilliance and great ideas.

Moments of clarity in my writing. There were moments of discovery in my photography. There were just moments of feeling like a normal human being in my socialness. They were just in constant battle of the blaseness of this mid-life.

It wasn’t until last night when a cousin of mine posted something about gluten-sensitivity. Looking at the symptoms, I think I may have it! But then again, I am a hypochondriac, but it fits so well.

33.

It definitely was a year of trying and another year of finding my footing again. It was definitely a year of struggling to feel normal and getting ready for a big change. It was a year in transition. My year in transition.

* * *

There are a lot of things that are shaken up in my life right now. Many things that are beyond my control.

The Carters leaving. Work going the route that it is going and just the dynamics changing and drama at work. Many things just out of my control.

33.

It definitely was a year of itching and fighting the comfortable and getting ready for the change. In a way, many of these changes are a welcome change, to get me out of this rut that I am in.

Maybe with the Carters leaving, I actually do need to make an effort to make new friends. I’m better at socializing, so, in a way that’s a growing experience that has improved.

I am learning new skills that will be beneficial for me at work. Maybe I can just find something else and with the company losing the business, maybe it is just the ungentle push that I need to get the fuck out.

As I told Blair when I first got hired that I’ll give him 5 years, ’cause that was what I told my mom when I got this job about the possibility of me moving home. I told her to ask me again in 5 years and I’ll see how I feel.

33.

Changes.

Decisions.

Maybe it is a year of me bracing for the decisions that I need to make to propel me into the next phase in my life, whatever that maybe.

Maybe I just need to man up and meet new people and maybe get in a relationship? Maybe it is just me realizing that me pining away over Ms. D is a lost cause and I just need to MOVE THE FUCK ON.

Move the fuck on.

I can’t read her at all, when I can pick up on these other things with other people. With her, she’s a black hole of information. Nothing but questions.

Changes. Moving on.

* * *

Changes. Moving on.

New day, new motivation to write.

33.

Looking back, it didn’t seem like it was any different than any other age of my 30s. I socialized when I wanted to socialized. I picked up and left for vacation whenever I needed to go away. I took my yearly pilgrimage home and spent time with family, bonding more with my little cousins more than I ever had.

Looking back, it really wasn’t much different than any other year.

It just was a different feeling in terms of feeling. That feeling of being lost was rearing its ugly head. I call it my mid-life and in a way it is.

I just feel like I’m at a crossroads. I need to make changes in my life. There are things that I want in life that I’m no closer to actually achieving.

Having a family. Maybe possibly being with someone. I need to make a start relatively soon. I’m not getting any younger.

* * *

As much as I fear that there is going to be a point of no return in the way that I’ll be too old to get into anything, too old to be in a relationship or too old to start a family; there’s a large part of me that isn’t scared. There’s that optimism again.

It has stuck with me for a while now. It showed up unexpectedly out of the blue one day many years ago and it has never left. I wonder if it had always been in me. That I’ve always had it, but I never trusted it. I don’t know, but it’s a live and breathing.

No fear. I’m too fast too furious. I live my life a quarter mile at a time. That’s how someone described me when they see how I’m dealing with my whole work’s situation.

I’m whatever about it, no matter what happens.

I don’t know whether it is my optimism that things will always work out for me, or if it was something that I had learned and picked up through my years to not sweat the stuff that I have no control over.

If I lose my job, I lose my job. I can always find another. Many are worried and shitting bricks, but I don’t know, it is something that I’m not worried about.

I guess I had always been the type of person that just takes whatever comes my way and make the best of it. I’ve always been the type that sits and waits and figure things out. If there are times that I feel a need for a change, I’ll take action to make that change.

But then again, there are times when I feel the push for the change and I just wait and sit and sit until that urge goes away. But I think for the most part, with those, I just don’t have a clear understanding of what I want.

It isn’t’ until I understand what it is that I want that I’ll act. And unfortunately I’m the person that won’t know until he knows.

* * *

33.

A transitional year. A year of finding and understanding.

Changes.

Did I grow in the past year?

I know that I want to grow and better myself as a person every year. I want to learn something new about myself or just better myself and work on a fault of mine every year. Did I do that?

I don’t’ know.

I think I’m a little more social then I have ever been. Grant it I don’t think I’ve gone out as much as I had in other years, but I’ve always been the type of person that goes out with certain people. I have made new friends and manage to hang out with some people more than I ever had.

Maybe that is progress. I’m not afraid to just ask someone to hang out. Maybe this year will be different, piggy backing off of that. Maybe things will change on the social front. Who knows?

I know I need something. I know I need something more than this comfortable existence that I have made and chose for myself. It’s been a long long time coming and I think it just might be the time, the year for me to make that change.

34 will be the year of making decisions. It’ll be the year of big changes. It’ll be a year of new.

* * *

Maybe it is just that I need a new challenge.

Life has gotten comfortable. It has gotten predictable in terms of what I do. I go to work. I’ll go socialize from time to time, but I’ll go to work, come home and just relax. Nothing changes.

I don’t meet new people, ’cause I don’t really give myself an avenue to meet new people. I don’t like to socialize in crowds and there are quite a few people that I find it hard to talk with. Searching for things to talk about is like torture whereas there are others that conversation flows without any stress.

Should I throw myself in these challenging situations to see if I can navigate my way through it? Should I treat it as a game? Maybe I should look at things in a different way.

Maybe instead of looking at these social gathers, whenever I get a chance to go, as a chore of uncomfortableness, I should look at it as a game of people watching and as a social experiment or social observation.

Just go and people watch. Maybe I’ll meet new people. Maybe I’ll meet new friends. Maybe it is all just for the experience of life.

I don’t know. I just need a challenge.

34.

It seems like it’ll be a year of mystery. I genuinely have no idea what is in store for me.

* * *

Rumblings and ramblings.

I have lost my thought and any cohesion in this post a long time ago. Like many posts nowadays, it has lost its purpose.

I just type and type hoping that something good comes out of it. I just hope that my intentions come out in these posts. I just hope that in a way it captures how I feel.

I guess it succeeded in that 33 does feel like this post. Wandering and questioning, not sure of what it is. Thematic bursts of coherency litter the post like it did my life.

Change. Change. Change.

I’m another year older, another year wiser…just a little dazed and confused this time around.

I’m 34. 34. 34. 34.

Like any new number, I don’t know what it’ll bring me. I just hope that it is something interesting and worth going through.

So, 33, I bid you adieu.

34. Bring it.

A character eludes me. I’m not sure how to write his motivation and his emotions. What is he feeling?

I’m lost in trying to find his heart. He’s such an interesting character, basing it on someone that I know. I know him but not really, you know?

I just need to type things into this void as I figure out how to proceed.

* * *

It’s been a little over a month since I have written anything on here. I have been back from the northwest, doing my daily workity work things and time just passed.

I have been busy with some writing here and there and just, I don’t know, passing time I guess.

Life. What is happening?

All that is looming is my Naming Day which is a little under a month away. I’ll be another year older and another year wiser.

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

I just know that there is a need to do something with my life now, something different than the normal things that I have been doing as of late. Just something, you know? Just something worthwhile, a change perhaps.

What is that change? I don’t know, but there is a possibility that it’ll be coming soon as the decision is about to be made. Our fate hangs on it and I genuinely have no idea how things are going to go.

* * *

10 Years.

Looking back, 10 years is such a long time. I have started this blog almost 10 years ago. Started it because I just needed an outlet to let my feelings out. It was a suggestion of a good friend of mine at the time, a friend that no longer is one.

It was good for me, to just get everything out, to just write things out. My feelings. My raw emotions were laid out on these little pages of mine, these little entries. Slowly, bit by bit, word by word I got better. Or at least I think I had gotten better.

I have changed so much in the past 10 years, but not much. It’s a weird thing to see that I have just become a better version of who I was. I’m still the soft sentimental kid with dreams and hopes. I’m still the kind hearted guy who is shy and so aloof about life and life.

I’m just a better version of that as some aversions just simply melted away and other things were brought to the forefront of who I am today.

Time passes and I’m fixed just enough to move onto the next thing of my life, whatever that maybe.

* * *

10 years.

It was a bumpy road. A road of trials and tribulations, an arduous journey of open wounds and scars. But it wouldn’t be a good life if you came out of it unscathed without battle scars. It makes a boring story.

How exciting is my life story? How has my life been to date? Again, I would love to believe that it has been an interesting one. I think for the most part people would look at me and find interest in figuring me out. What do I do? What do I like? What kind of person am I?

I’m sure many people that I have met or have just a passing relationship with at work wonder that about me. Everyone is curious about the guy that hums around at work; dropping in and out of people’s lives rescuing them from their computer ails and work problems

Sometimes these passing relationships grow into something more solid and substantial — something less passing and something more permanent.

I wonder how many people wonder about that. Why do I choose the particular people that I tend to gravitate towards and spend more than my normal in and out fix the problem schedule?

I’m an enigma, or I would like to think and I’m sure many people do find me strange and curious.

But all in all, I’m an open book. It just takes some time to get use to my prose. My prose isn’t graceful or poetic. It’s just different.

* * *

I need to be more proactive in this coming change.

I know I need to make a change. I know possibly what those changes can be. But I don’t know for sure that those are the changes that I need to make until I know that I need to make them.

It’s a weird thing that I have. I won’t know until i know.

I’m always thinking about these changes, I’m always analyzing my life and how to improve it. I know the things that I need to do; I just need to be sure of it and actually act upon it. It’s never easy.

What can be the change? Dating? Moving? Doing something new? Accepting what I have now and deal with it?

I don’t know. I really don’t know.

* * *

You came around and knock me on the ground from the start. I have come full circle today. You put your arms around me and I’m home.

I can’t collect my thoughts. They don’t come as easily as they once did before.

It’s been the story of my blogging tippity tappity for a long while now. Some days I’ll be ago to go and go and go, but maybe it is just all environmental and I’m not as prolific as I am when I am in Los Angeles.

Maybe. I don’t know.

I belong with you / you belong with me / You my sweet heart.

It is boiling down to my last day up here for a while. These will be the last few hours I am back home.

I’m here, in my usual away from my usual typing away, collecting whatever thoughts that are streaming in my head and trying to figure out what to do when I get back home.

There are some big decisions to make, assuming that I follow through with them. Maybe I’ll eventually calm down and just think reasonably and not do anything at all; just let things play out and play it by ear then.

* * *

It’s the typical Pacific Northwest day today; overcast and cool. The gray paints the city with an ambivalence of noncommittance. The day, life, decisions can go either way. It can lean towards the positive or the negative.

The day isn’t going to commit. It is leaving everything up to the user. Life.

Staring out the window, collecting my thoughts, I see the slight glimmer of the things to come. It may be quite all right. Things have a habit of working out in the end. It’s just a matter of how patient you are.

Life is a test of one’s patience. Everyone plays the game, but not everyone make it.

How patient are you?

* * *

A Thousand Years

Family.

I’ll love them for a thousand years and for a thousand more.

I actually did enjoy my time with family this weekend, especially with all the kids running around and just sitting around shooting the shit with my cousins.

I’m sad that my brother didn’t join in, sitting there, a little bored, hesitant to join in or just didn’t want to. I don’t know. It’s family. He never had problems socializing with family before.

But overall, it was good.

It’s funny to hear the compliments that one of my cousin’s wife gave me. She, in different verbiage, said that I was the best looking “Ho” in the family and that I am single.

Everyone just seems like they want to set me up. It’s just a little funny, but I can understand. It is what it is.

Everyone wants to meddle.

Things are changing. I can feel it. I can just taste it. The anticipation is building up.

Maybe that is what last year was about, the inevitable changes that I am going to have to go through. I was getting too comfortable and life is going to change. I’m just preparing myself for it.

Things are changing.

Times are a changin’

It’s just a matter of waiting and seeing where things go, whether it is me sitting back and going with the flow or me just taking life by the reins and going with it.

* * *

It’s coming. Just a little under three months. It’s coming.

I don’t know how I am going to feel about it. I really can’t say.

I would like to think that the day would come and I’ll just not realize it; that life would just go on as usual, nothing on my mind but the day at hand.

But I don’t know.

I haven’t seen him in my dreams as of late. But I still think he’s around. He’s always there, influencing me in some way or another.

10 years. Whoosh. 10 years.

I’m back again. It’s the third day in a row at my usual away from home, Tolino.

I am doing something I haven’t done in a while. I am writing without the lyrical 1s and 0s that I am so use to blaring through my ears. I totally forgot my headphones today on the landing floor.

Blah. I wonder how good my writing will be today.

I’m going into it blind also, not knowing what it is that I want to say. Do I ever know what I want to say? It seems that recently, I really don’t.

* * *

Happy Chinese New Year’s. Happy New Year.

It’s the first today.

I went to the temple with my mom last night. We paid our respects to our ancestors and the buddhas and prayed and worshipped.

It was a little different than I thought it would be. Lots of chanting and waiting for that one first stick of joss. It was the first wish of the new year and whatever you wished for will come true.

While there I met a few of my mom’s friends. They are friends from work. And I met Judy (or it could be Julie, but I’m sticking with Judy), the friend who helps her with this worshipping and temple stuff.

She seems like a very very lovely and nice lady. I’m glad my mom has a good friend that can help her with this stuff.

Something interesting came out of it though. Judy brought up that she would love it if my mom would find someone to spend her time with, another man. Because we all can’t be alone for the rest of our lives. I’m sure my dad would want the same thing.

It’s going to be hard for my mom, but I don’t know, I think she should do it. I felt this way for a while now. I wouldn’t have any problem if my mom finds someone. I told Judy that I agree, that my mom should find someone.

But I can tell that my mom was very comfortable when this came up, especially when I was around.

Honestly I don’t know if she’ll do it or not. I know that she’s a very traditional woman when it comes to this type of thing, but I do hope that she’ll reconsider. That if a man does come into her life, that she won’t close the door. I just want her to be happy and if finding someone else does, I’ll be happy.

* * *

Snoring.

My brother snores…big time.

It’s loud.

I just hope that I don’t snore that loud. But I just don’t know. I need to record myself one night.

* * *

It’s quiet here today. I’m the only one sitting here in the shop along with the barista-slash-owner.

It’s Sunday. I am thinking that most people are at church today. Being there with their Lord, getting saved.

So, I’m sitting here, without my music typing away as some kind of spanish muzak music blares over the intercom.

It’s going to be a different day indeed. Something different, something new, yet familiar to start out the new year.

New Years.

I do wonder which one I truly accept as the beginning of the new year or can I keep it separate. It’s like my second chance to do New Year’s right.

I don’t’ know.

* * *

Not having music is definitely doing something to my writing vibe. I just really can’t get into it, or I am, I just don’t know what to write.

What is there for me to write about?

Hmmm…

* * *

I need to take a break from the thinking. I’m coming to a crossroads and I really don’t know what I’m going to do.

I’m going to be forced to do something soon.

I need to step back and not think about it for a while. I need to really think through this decision and think about what it will actually mean, and what will come out of it.

I can’t rush this.

* * *

I have a few stories outstanding. I think I have about three or four that I need to actually do.

It’s not a matter of finding the time to do it, it is more a matter of not being lazy and just fucking doing it.

Hopefully I can just do it. Just do it.

They all seem simple enough.

* * *

BLAH. Just BLAH with my writing today.

I need music.

Or something to write about.

It was a late start today. My spotify wasn’t working properly after I upgraded it today. I had to uninstall it, but now I am ready to work out my fingers.

I don’t know what it is that I want to say. Today is Chinese New Year’s Eve. The celebration is tonight.

Well, what is there to say? I have no idea, but I need to buy some time, to just work things out, I guess.

Well, in a way, depending on how things go later in the month, there is a possibility that I might not have a job in the next few months. I told my mom this last night. Well, she already knows, but I just want to bring it up again. She said I should move back here, to Seattle.

I told her Chicago. I planted the seed. I love Chicago. Maybe it’ll work. A new start, a fresh start.

Of course my brother didn’t say anything but he had always known my love for Chicago. He usually never chimes in on anything like that.

But, whatever. The seed is planted. Now it is a matter of how real this is going to be. I don’t know.

* * *

Five years.

It’s been five years since I worked at my current job. I told the Blair that I would give him five years and it is now up. I told my mom at that time that I was going to give it five years.

Five years.

What am I going to do?

At that time it was more that I was going to move home if I didn’t find a new job and I’ll move home and start fresh. That’s what I told my mom, but if I didn’t find anything after a certain time I would move home. But I did find a job and here I am, five years later still working there.

Now, whether the company does fold or not, I am not sure, but there is that choice up in the air now.

Maybe the feeling last year was a nagging feeling that time is almost up and I need to decide what to do. I had to decide if I should just quit and move and do what it is that is planned for me next or just stay and continue on.

There is a feeling that I was kind of stagnant last year.

Fuck. The Mid-Life. That was horrible.

It was like I was lost again, at that crossroad and I had a decision to make.

Maybe it was just a precursor to get me to think about the next step. Whether I should stay in LA or not.

Carters are leaving in May. They are my oldest friends here in LA and they are the only friends that I see on a regular basis outside of work. Without them, what is there left to tie me to LA?

I really don’t know.

I have no relationship that I need to think about and stay for. I can basically live anywhere doing whatever I can find to do as long as I can pay the rent and feel a sense of security.

I don’t know what there is anymore.

I’m a nomad, moving from place to place. Just setting up enough roots to stay for a few years and then it is time for me to leave.

Is this it? Is this going to happen?

Well, the see is planted in my head and there is this nag that I need to make a change. Is this it?

I mean with all of the recent drama at work, I don’t know. The miscommunication between the freelancer and I and Yolo, I don’t know. It is just awkward and uncomfortable.

Fucking drama. If the freelancer would have just told me upfront instead of playing these little games, things would have been so much easier.

I don’t know much of anything anymore.

It’s been over ten years already. There were a lot of lessons and growing pains that I went through in those ten years. Maybe it is just time for me to face whatever new challenges that is out there for me to tackle to make me a better person.

I honestly don’t know much anymore.

I’m just living my life, bouncing from one moment to the next not really thinking about where I am going. I’m just going along with the ride and just seeing where I end up.

* * *

The ultimate question is, am I ready?

Am I finally ready to move back home?

What will happen if I do?

I’m sure I would see a lot more family when I do and that my family would definitely be a lot happier if I do. I would love to see them happy, but they all know I’m not willing to sacrifice my happiness to make them happy.

I have to make the decision on my own and not be coerced.

Am I ready to leave all these ten years behind and just start new again?

Have things changed enough for me to move back home and be okay? I know there will be things that will happen, like me not living at home or anywhere that close to home. I will do my own thing and see my family when I want to see my family.

But other than that, I don’t’ know. I don’t know much anymore.

The decision is huge. It will impact my life greatly.

What am I to do?

What is there in California that is holding me there?

Well, there are lots of things. The weather (even though I gripe about the lack of seasons all the time). It has everything, diversity and culture and hiking and the beach and fun (even though I don’t do anything).

In a way, it has been my home for over 11 years. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to leave it. I have set up my new life there. I grew up here in the sense I grew into myself, this person I am today. I grew up there. My life, no matter how quiet it is, is there.

But like me having to leave after college to grow up, maybe it is just time for me to leave and just start a new phase somewhere else, whether it is in Seattle or in Chicago or Portland or somewhere else.

Maybe.

* * *

I say that a reason I would move up here is for all the hiking and the wilderness. Would I do it? Would I actually make use of it and just go and do it?

I don’t know. There’s a lot of hiking there in California, but do I do it? Do I spend my days out there blazing through the trails with Pickles? No, I just sit on my ass and doing whatever it is that I do.

Maybe I should just change how I live my life my priorities and my routines. Instead of going to the boba shop to do my writings, I should just be out there getting healthy, hiking, doing something active and that I love.

It would give Pickles a better life, a healthier life.

I don’t know anymore.

At a crossroads.

I have a decision to make.

* * *

Have this been in my head for a while now or did something recently just trigger it?

I know that I was happy last year up here not a care in the world and just traveling and exploring. But that was vacation; it wasn’t my daily grind, my life. Would it be different?

I would have to deal with the seasons, the lack of sun, and the rain.

How will that affect my mood? I don’t deal well with the lack of rain. That’s for damn sure.

Things to ponder.

These are definitely things for me to ponder and think about. I know I usually just do things on a whim, but this is big.

It’ll be life changing.

I don’t’ know. I don’t know much anymore.

* * *

Life is at a crossroads. The fork is up ahead and I need to make a decision and commit to it.

What to do? Left or right?

Think.

There is definitely something in the air for the past couple of weeks that is just driving me blah. BLAH.

Fucking drama. Work drama no less. I hate it when there is fucking work drama. I just can’t not be in it. BLAH.

It’s just a simple case of miscommunication and jumping to conclusions that is just ruining everything. I need to take this break to calm down and to just think things over. I need to talk to him to clear things out.

* * *

It’s Chinese New Year’s again. Instead of spending it down with my LA family, I decided to fly up to spend it with my immediate family.

It has been 10 years since I’ve been back for Chinese New Year’s. Things were so different back then. Things were on a different level of happiness instead of this restored happiness with the lingering black hole what was my dad.

The last time I was up there, my dad was still alive. A few short months later, he passed away of a heart attack.

I don’t know if that was the reason why I never went back home for Chinese New Year’s or if flying back for Christmas is just easier. Well, considering where I work, flying back for Christmas was just easier.

But I guess it is time. Things need to move on. Life needs to just fulfill whatever path it is meant to fulfill and I can’t go on avoiding it for forever because of the fear that something like that might happen again or that those short final days are the lasts I have with my dad.

I’m packing up, getting ready to leave for the airport as he was getting ready to go off to work. He’s standing at the doorway to my then room and tells me to take care. It’s like he knows it’s his last time of seeing me and he just wants to say something more besides telling me to take care.

And I just say by and take care also. That’s all I can manage because I treated it as any other goodbye. It’s a not forever goodbye but an I’ll see you later, hopefully soon goodbye.

That was it. No hug, no contact. Just a simple exchange of words. That’s it.

Then a few months later, “poof”, he’s gone.

Back then I still feel regret for not doing something more. I thought I was cold and heartless; a non-loving son who can’t tell his dad that he loved him. No signs of emotions or even any affection.

I didn’t know any better. I just hated myself for my lack of anything that resembles loving my father on the outside. Those memories of bye and physical distance haunted me then as in a way it still does.

But I know better now. I didn’t know. I made a mistake, one that I sure do regret, but I didn’t know that he was going to just die of a heart attack a few months later.

If I had known, well, things would be different now, won’t they?

Life, it happens. I made the mistake of being our typical family of distance, emotional and physical.

Now, things are different. Hugs and I love yous are spewed on and off the phone.

I’m not making that mistake again with my mom. She and my brother are all I have left. She’s my only parent left.

* * *

Things are much better now. Things are different now.

The dynamics between my brother and I are still the same, the same awkward, I don’t know how to really talk to you about personal stuff, so let’s just not do it type of thing. Fuck, how I wish we can get past that, but I don’t know how to approach it.

Blah.

Man, it’s just been a really blah time for me as of late.

But overall, things are good.

* * *

In three months and two days, it will be 10 years since my father passed away.

Time had flown by so fast in these past 10 years. So fast and there’s so much that changed.

For the past few years, I had been dreading the coming of this. 10 years. 10 years without my father.

I think about all of the different things that he missed out on, all the different trips that I had taken without him. I think about him not being able to meet Pickles. I’m sure he would love him and dote on him.

He’s such a sweet dog, such a sweet kid.

But there’s no point in harping on that; on all of the missed moments and future joys that he’ll never be there to experience.

There’s no point.

I just have to believe that he’s always with me, guiding me whenever I have any doubts as to what to do. He’s there to see all the decisions I make and there are times where I do feel that there’s something or someone looking out for me, making sure I’m not doing anything fucking stupid.

I loved him deeply. I still do.

There will always be a whole in my heart and it is unfillable.

* * *

Cloud.

So, a few weeks ago while chatting online, Cloud said that she wanted me to meet her boyfriend. I’m not sure if her parents know if she’s seeing anyone or not, but it may seem that they have met the boy. My mom has met the boy apparently.

This should be interesting. I just can’t decide how I am going to go about it, whether I should be an ass and a jerk, or just be nice and polite to him, be accepting to him.

Most likely I’ll be me, which is a mixture of the two.

In a way, I just find it funny how well I’m bonding with her and her brothers and even their cousin. They are definitely a lot younger than I am. They are like my younger siblings, which I never had. I’m the youngest and my relationship with my brother was never like this. But then again, we are so close in age and we were just brought up differently where we just never talk like this, about anything personal.

For the most part, with these kids, I don’t give a fuck about them telling me anything. I just ask them questions. If they don’t want to answer, then they don’t. But I just ask. I don’t know why I can’t ever do that with my brother, but I don’t know. It’s just simpler with the kids.

It’s like I’m the cool older brother that they never had. They are all so close in age too.

Family. It’s times like these that it is nice to just be around family that you’ve grown up with, family that you’ve grown to love.

Looking back, I’ve known them for close to 11 years. They came over in 2002.

I think from the beginning, I tried to develop a bond and a relationship with them. From the very first day that I’ve met them.

It speaks a lot about my brother that their relationship is not like mine. It speaks a lot about his character that he doesn’t socialize much or with people.

But then again, though we grew up together, there’s a lot of different dynamics that shaped us into the people that we are today. There’s so much that I can pinpoint and cull some kind of explanation as to why I’m this way and why he’s that way.

But that’s all about psychology and even sociology.

But there are still a lot of things that I don’t know about him, about his life, ’cause I just simply don’t ask or he simply doesn’t volunteer.

So I can’t make many assumptions as to why he’s the way that he is, but I can guess to the root of it. Maybe he’s getting better in going out and socializing. I have no idea.

But I still see him as the quiet shy guy that I grew up knowing.

Words. Thoughts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

Did I give up?

Maybe.

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

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

I need to. I just do.

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

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

Moving on.

* * *

Signs.

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

Signs.

I miss them.

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

Maybe that is how it works.

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

Signs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here. Now.

* * *

Action.

Or in my case the lack of it.

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

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

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

Hmmmmm….Interesting indeed.

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

* * *

Blur.

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

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

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

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

Maybe.

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

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

Life is uncertain.

* * *

It’s a new year. It’s a new post.

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

Morning texts from cousins don’t count.

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

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

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

* * *

Resolutions. Do I have any?

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

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

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

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

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

Get out more.

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

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

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

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

* * *

No.

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

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

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

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

No.

What to write?

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

* * *

Smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life.

* * *

Quiet.

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

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

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

It’s a quiet and slow day in deed.

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

There’s a new girl today. Tall.

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

I wonder what her story is.

Actually, I wonder what all of their story is.

Everyone has a story and they are all interesting stories.

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

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

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

I just hope that I can.

Hope.

It’s worth something.

Without hope, there is nothing.

* * *

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

I am looking for a friendly distraction.

It is time.

To say goodbye for today.

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

Just LOVE.

There is not enough LOVE from me for it….

Just LOVE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On this last day of the year, I spend it like I normally would on a day off. I am here typing my life away, documenting the thoughts and feelings that cloud my mind, flooding of words out of my fingers, typing into the ether.

I spend it like I normally would.

Time is drawing to a close.

I have written my goodbye and am looking forward to what the new year will bring. The new memories that I’ll make. The new things about myself that I will find.

The new year will be a blank canvas awaiting me to paint my masterpiece. The control is mine. The decision is mine.

I just need to paint it with conviction.

* * *

Words.

They are all that I have.

Words.

They comfort me. They understand me.

They get me.

Words.

My how I have grown to love these little letters and punctuations. They were once a dreaded tour, but now I devour them because they are a life force.

They make me feel alive, they make me feel. They give me genuine emotions, tugging at my easily manipulated heart strings.

Words.

My drug of choice.

* * *

My ambitions are running wild. My head is spinning with ideas on how I can write a novella or a novel. The essence of the story is just swimming in my head, waiting for me to pluck it out and organize them.

It won’t be a standard structure or narrative. It’ll be something that jumps around with a running string that ties everything together.

I just need to focus on it, to write it out.

I just need to be good about it and stop dicking around and watch too much TV. My year should be filled with projects of writing and photography. It should be a busy year of productivity instead of the flatted year of procrastination.

* * *

There’s a woman here, coming in all huffing and puffing with a purpose. She sits next to me and then decides to change to another table.

She’s quiet as she sets up her laptop, doing whatever it is that she’s doing. She fires it up and places her order for her boba milk tea.

Normally a girl like her would generally not hold my attention. I looked her over and decided that was enough of that from me for her, but something draws me in.

She, Jordan — why not? sits there with her sunglasses on, writing.

Maybe she has very sensitive eyes and she needs the sunglasses to dampen the brightness of her laptop screen. Staring at the laptop for too long causes migraines.

I’m curious now what it is that she’s working on. Is it a story, a blog, screenplay, or something more in the vein of work? This is her office? Maybe.

I don’t know.

* * *

Today’s words are just time suckers. They have no value, just words that come to me as I try to pass the time, to be out of my house, to enjoy the outside world, to do what it is that I usually need to do.