Been thinking long and hard about this. Been thinking long and hard.

It has been on my mind constantly; that lil’ pang of pain of disappointment. It’s just there and it won’t go away.

I have no reason to feel the way I do right now, none at all, but it is just there.

There was no commitment, nothing that signals that there was something, so I shouldn’t be making these assumptions and building these expectations, what little expectations they were.

Sigh, it is just my fickle heart being the pain in the ass as it usually is again.

Nothing. Nothing more then what it is.

The finger.

The “wait a minute” finger. Gone gone.

Gone and never seen. That minute dragged on and I actually didn’t expect that there was actually going to be a minute. Everything transpired as I thought it did.

Sigh.

* * *

Life goes on and on as the pain goes on and on.

It happened before. Many times before and this time was no different than the others.

He was there one minute and then he turned tail and ran the next.

He saw her. She. The one. Or at least for her, he’s the one.

Everything rushed back for her. The problems, the pain, the heart pangs and ache. Everything rushed back.

She needed air, she needed to mute the pain and she did with the only way she knows how.

One after another. Strong and strong. The Long Islands went down, glass by glass.

Did it work? Was it still there, that smarting pain?

Unfortunately for her, it was.

She hides it well, but for the well trained eye, it was written across her face. Her heart was breaking, again, right there.

That whole night was just another awful night that she’s gone through before and it was because of him, because of Love.

Ahhh. Love, that dreaded four-letter-word that many in this world feel incomplete without.

It makes even the hardened of hearts melt if there is an opportunity to just experience just a split second of it. She experienced it…truly experience what it means to love. Again, to her, he’s the one. His one one fun fun.

She holds it in. Everything. The pain, the devastation, the tears that are brimming at the rim, testing her power to not let it flow. She hides it behind her drunken happiness, her forced smile.

She dies with each second.

Only a handful knows what is happening. Out of that handful, there’s one that really knows and she sticks by him. The friend that tries not to be a real friend, but really is.

He’s the one that steadies her, the one that is watching out for her, trying to make sure that she survives the night, the long night.

For the most part it happened.

This friend, who’s not so much different from her, knows most about the volatile relationship. He’s the one that she confided in regarding everything. For him, he’s seen her tears more times than he cares for.

The end draws near. The night is almost over. The friend made the necessary plans on where she’s going to stay, at a friend’s, with her group of girlfriends.

They leave together with another friend; a man who may secretly harbors feelings for her. They take her to a diner, hoping that she’ll eat and sober up. But she refuses, instead wanting to be comfortably numb that the Long Islands gave her.

She wanted to be left alone and sit in the car, but the so-called friend doesn’t give him, not trusting her alone. The other friend, the one with the crush, follows his lead. The decision is not up to him, he’s letting the asshole friend take the lead on this.

Almost caving as he sees the tears start to swell, his hard stance wavers. Throughout, he tries to cheer her up with his sarcasm and pointedly successful attempts to be an asshole.

Demoralized and empty, she doesn’t understand why, why is this guy who constantly denies her outspoken friendship is here, taking care of her, actually caring. He’s never done that before.

She doesn’t understand that he’s doing it out of his selfish complex of always needing to save someone, that it was something to do, and because he genuinely cares about her and what is happening.

Deep down inside he knows that whatever this is between her and her one is a lost cause, and he’s made it known, but ultimately the decision is up to her. She has to be the strong one that does it.

He knows currently she’s not strong enough, so in a way he’s there to keep her up while she’s down.

She finally lets go. Not strong enough to hold things back in as she is out of the public eye. An explosion of tears, pain, and heartache explodes out of her as her wails of pain are drowned out by the radio. Her two bodyguards just sit on in silence, leaving her alone with her pain as they make small talk to pass the time.

As they got to her friends, they haven’t showed up yet and won’t for a while.

As they found a place to park, He called and wanted her to go over to His place. Her asshole friend asked for the phone and then just hung up, not caring and thinking it wasn’t a good idea for her to speak to him and listen to his faux comfort. She’s weak and she will cave.

The asshole is holding strong with his direct and brusque demeanor as the one with the crush plays the good cop, comforting her.

She’s walking off, wanting her space, needing her space, wanting to be alone.

The one with the crush holds back as he gets a call, as the asshole follows.

She’s walking strong, crying, crumbling. The asshole holds her back, as she screams her hatred at him for holding her back, for caring. She threatens his life, wanting to kill him and he urges her on. “Kill me” he says. “Kill me. You need help? You need a knife?” he eggs her.

She storms off again.

Beaten, demoralized. Her life hanging by a string as her sanity and soul crumbles out of control.

The asshole catches up to her again and just holds her. Holds her tight as she lets herself go, crumbling in his arms. All he can do is just hold her in silence. There really are no words for this type of pain.

The one with the crush catches up as the asshole keeps following her, being the asshole, trying to comfort her in his own way. She marches on, wanting her space. Eventually, she stops. They surround her, though giving her space, preventing her from going any further.

Here she has her own breakdown. The one with the crush talks her down. The asshole lets him, realizing that he’s not the right person to talk to her down now.

It worked. His comforting words calmed her down better than the asshole’s.

She gathered herself together. She calmed whatever was left of her soul and steeled the remains of her heart. They walk on in silence. One in front of her, the other behind her.

By the time they got back to the apartment, her friends finally showed up, missing the emotional meltdown that she needed to have.

Her custody has been changed over. The guys drove away with her car and parked it at the asshole’s. The asshole drove the other back to his ride.

It was an interesting night for the both of them, ending in a way that none of them could ever predict.

The asshole got home stripped out of his clothes and crashed into bed. He falls out of consciousness, happy that the night is over.

A text message wakes up the asshole. “Where’s my car?” from the girl. She later calls as he didn’t respond.

She’s coming to pick up her keys. A text message marks her arrival.

The asshole steps out, seeing a vaguely familiar car behind her car. He steps out, her one, from the driver’s side. He brought her here to pick up the car. She slowly gets out the car. “I’m sorry” is all she can say.

It took a bit for the asshole to understand what is happening. After everything that happened last night, she went back to Him, either in the middle of the night or in the morning. It’s her choice. It’s what she wanted. The asshole has no say.

The asshole just smiles as he gives her back the keys. “No worries” as he turns and leave. Her one tries to make small talk with the asshole and he answers and just leaves.

It’s her choice. Nothing no one can do.

* * *

Night flickers of the mind.

She reappears after a day’s worth of thinking about her and everything. Thinking about everything that transpired and she reappears.

Not my attention as I just can’t really help it, but she’s there.

Night flickers watching real flickers on the silver curtain, us together. Not my intention, but it happened.

Us together, holding hands, watching watching.

Everything that transpired wrapped together into this flicker of the mind. Everything between us okay, together.

Not sure what it means as it seems that these projections are just projections of deep feelings that I never knew about, especially when you weren’t in my sight.

It just happens and I just let it happen.

I don’t know what it means, and I’m trying my best to not read anything into it.

Nothing at all.

I’m just letting whatever happens happen, as I usually do. Just letting them pass me by, not making assumptions, building expectations.

Let things go.

Breathe.

Sigh.

* * *

It’s getting difficult as my fickleness is getting the best of me.

Can’t focus, uninspired on what it is that I want to focus on as my mind is constantly wandering, and my inspiration is gone to some far off land that I can’t get to. Where has it gone?

I’ve gone into this creative funk, letting that ink well dry up and there’s nothing really I can do about it.

Maybe it is because of the trip that is coming up shortly; my focus is on that. The Tokyo trip, my own little Tokyo Story.

Maybe after that is gone, then I can get back on the swing of things. Maybe then, my creative juices will make a comeback, fill up this well of mine and I’ll be more motivated than ever.

Coming into a new project with Scott and possible going back to rewriting my old ones. I just need to focus on something, keeping busy, keeping my mind working.

I need to find the time to balance everything out, my photography, my writing, my reading, my media watching, and my laziness. They all need to coexist in a harmony that has never happened before.

Even now, as I type this, I can tell that there is something wrong as I find it difficult to express the things that I need to say, what I want to say, in a specific way that I usually say it.

I lost my knack for the drivel that use to plague this empty void of mine.

Gone gone gone.

* * *

All is lost, all is gone as the communication has stopped and in a way, I’m still pining away, being my usual pathetic self.

It’s sad really, but in a way, I’m getting over it. It was something that never panned out to nothing much really. Just people getting together and having lunch. What is there of it?

I asked, and she hasn’t responded. I’ll take it that she’s busy and leave it at that. It is school time.

In a way, all in all, it is working out how my life is working out or as it should be….I guess? Non committal, not getting married remember? Why go through the hassle of everything else when I got what it is that I need.

I guess in a way, it is nice not being tied down.

Excuses? Maybe.

I think all in all, it is just a matter of the doubts that was just nagging in me. The difference in age. I’ll be holding her back and that is something that I really don’t want to do. She’s still trying to find her way at such a young age and I’m old and set; flowing in this grove I set out for myself.

Ahhh….damn these fingers of mine; damn my mind; damn my brain.

Gone gone gone are the days of ease that these words just flow.

Nothing to fix, nothing to say and I had so much to say. Urg!

* * *

Time is split in two. There are two. Not just two singles, but two friends. One I know for sure is not seeing anyone, and the other I suspect is not truly single.

But they are good friends and they are both there. Each I flirt with in my own little way. One I spend more time with because she’s just easier to talk to, and the other is getting that way too as I am warming up to her I guess.

I don’t know what it is, but I am fine keeping this distance, not trying to do anything. I don’t want to come in between their friendship, a assumption on my part and I might be an ass on that, but I don’t know. I have no idea what is happening.

Should I just focus on the one I know for sure who is single or should I work on the other or should I just work on both and not just care.

Most will say to not care, but I don’t know what it is about me and my need for justice and righteousness. Urgh my morals. Urgh indeed.

They are both beautiful in their own right, albeit different body types, and for the most part, they are both sweet.

Blah as I am torn in between these two and don’t know what to do. So fickle. So in trouble.

As my heart grows for one, the other does something that pulls me their way. I know I probably have no chance with any of them, but damn a boy can dream…

Sigh.

I don’t know, I have no clue. I’m just winging it.

* * *

Fickleness. I guess that word can pretty much sum up my life.

I guess it has more to do with being an attention whore. I don’t know what it really is as my life, the social aspect of it is such a complete mess as is and my hermit side is going there too as I can’t fucking focus on anything at all.

The Girl Who is Still Here has been striking my fancy more and more. She’s cute. Let’s just get that out of the way now. Very cute.

I don’t know what it is…maybe she’s just really a nice young girl and she’s like this with everyone, but I can tell her flirtatiousness comes out when she sees me. Her demeanor changes as we great each other and go through the formalities that society set out for us; the hi’s and the how-do-you-do’s.

It’s not like we talk all the time or if ever. We just meet and greet in passing.

Sigh.

Fickle.

My heart can’t decide on anything and on whom. I guess in a way, it is normal, but I guess in a way it is just a sign that I’m not ready to be in anything at all. This fickleness is getting to me…maybe.

* * *

A night of debauchery. A night of bar hopping with the African.

It was a good night, as we started off slow in a slow quiet bar with a shot. Things progressively went along as we went to Rush. Another shot and a beer. Then it was party time at the Backstage.

A dive bar with a relaxed crowd. It’s my type of place, just where real people go and chill, a place where people like me just want to go with friends to get a drink. No one is there to be seen, no one is there to act cool. Just people there to hang out.

The African loved the place also. His type of hangout. As our drinks went about, two shots and more beers, things got progressively better.

Karaoke singing in the background as a group of Latinas show up at the bar next to us.

I’ve had a few drinks in me now, as things are a blur with the slowness of the firewater. My goggles are one as things aren’t as 20/20 as they should be without the drug.

Somehow, we started to dance and with the dancing came the make-out. I made out with a complete stranger.

Overall, it was nice. It was great. I wouldn’t mind doing it again.

Funny that while she was grinding me one time, she fell flat on her face. I felt bad, but damn it was funny.

Overall, a good time was had. I wouldn’t mind doing it again.

* * *

Sigh.

Things are getting tougher. I guess my focus lies elsewhere. I guess my talent lies elsewhere. I guess my creativity lies elsewhere.

I can only focus on one or two things at one time. My inspiration for sure isn’t on my writing; or my photography.

Everything is focused on my Kindle right now. A new toy, so I have to break it in. I need to make use of it, so I can actually believe that it was a good investment.

Sigh.

It’s been a long time coming, a long time coming. It’s been a while since I have any diatribes or jib jabs in this lil’ space of mine.

Life has just been zooming by, me living it and not analyzing it.

So much has happened and I don’t even think about it. Days and days go by, no different than any other.

Life.

I guess that is how life is. Just a jumbleness of days; days going by, one at a time. Life.

Life now is really no different than life then. Just a little bit older, a little bit wiser. Nothing so drastic that is getting me into anything that I shouldn’t be getting into.

My life is just free….free to do whatever it is that makes my heart pitter patter.

* * *

Pitter patter. My heart went pitter patter. It actually did, skip a beat and I acted on it.

No fear, no anxiety, just the natural flow of words coming out of my mouth as the invitation is agreed upon. It’s on…for those couple of times and it is what it is.

I don’t know what it is there with this intern intern, but something happened, which hasn’t happened in a long time. Whether there is potential or not, I don’t know, it’s just that I’m not acting on it.

I know that I say that I’m not afraid anymore, but the frustration of not knowing anything is putting the fear in me. Just the idea of not knowing anything, the intentions, the feelings, the security…frustrating.

As I disclose all actions with Mui Gwai Fah, I’m still unclear as what I should do. My stupid little tricks and little thoughts and fears holding me back.

The future is uncertain as it should be uncertain. I have no idea what it is that I want and I don’t know the certainty of anything. I guess in a way, I shouldn’t know and that’s how it goes. It is the matter of going through the experience the process of it all to figure it out.

Hasn’t that been my motto? Just go through with it.

I don’t know what it is that I should do, what I should think as there is definitely a huge gap between us. There are times where I feel that if things do proceed, I’ll be holding her back and that is certainly something I don’t want.

But in a sense, that’ll be a good thing since I’m so non committal in many aspects, that it’ll be good when she leaves. Whatever comes of it will come of it and that will be that.

Easier said than done….easier said than done.

So now I sit, pondering the potential of what may be instead of seeing it through. Sigh. I have a decision to make and something to act on.

Life.

Blah.

* * *

Falling into an old familiar, falling into an old hobby, or just a matter of getting more proficient in something that I just didn’t invest the time, effort, and focus before. My photography is getting better, especially with the exercise of needing to take a picture every day.

Shooting everyday helps me train my eye, bettering my skills in this capturing of life.

Going up for my auntie’s memorial, I was asked by her family to take family portraits and I did. In my opinion, most of them turned out well. I have no qualms about them. They are “framable” if that is the word. My favorite ones are the candids, the ones where I just capture the organic nature of the moment. The freezing of life at that time, that moment. Those are my favorites.

As I was taking more and more, I notice my limitations on the kind of photos that I take and the ones I actually like. Sure I take the random objects and get that good one that looks good. The certain views of little things and what not and it turns out great.

But when it comes to people, I usually don’t like to take pictures of people. Their posed stiffness of capturing. Again, it all goes back to the organic moments that I like to capture, the moments of candidness when they are free to be who they are without being so self-aware of them and what is happening.

I’ve been asked to take another set of photos for Scott and his new baby boy. This should be interesting and I hope that these pics turn out well.

* * *

Pickles.

My beloved son. My furry kid.

He met the rest of the fam for the first time a few weeks ago for auntie’s memorial. I drove his ass up there and for the most part, it turned out great.

He’s cool, chill and mellow. He got along great with everyone, well tempered and playful. He was especially great with the kids, especially the younger ones, the terrible 2s.

Great and it seems that the olders liked him too.

It’s great to see that my family got along well or tolerated Pickles.

I guess they finally realize that I would much rather have a dog than have a girlfriend. This is a relationship that can’t be broken as he will always stay by my side.

I love him.

During the last night, Pickles had diarrhea on my bro’s carpet. I felt horrible for having Pickles do that and especially for me being the ultimate cause of it for feeding him such rich food that he’s not use to. I should have known better.

What really surprised me was my mom’s and my bro’s reaction to it. Instead of being angry and pissed, they were really nice about it a very understanding. It made me did a double take and think of how that happened? I guess we all grew up and changed so much.

I don’t know…but it surely made me love them even more.

During the ride down, I had to check on him like every five minutes or so ’cause my mom had me feed him some prescription meds for an upset stomach and diarrhea. I got worried ’cause it made him really really lethargic. Thankfully he made it out okay.

The drive up and down wasn’t bad at all. Very relaxing, albeit tiring, but a good drive none the less.

* * *

Losing touch, losing this conviction of mine to just type and type, exploring all facets of my “emo-ness”, gone gone. Maybe I’m done with this life therapy of mine, as I am comfortable with who I am and have concluded with the thought of not getting married, albeit that is only a thought right now and it does seem that’s the way that I am heading.

I’m sure I’ll disappoint a lot of my family for not getting married, but it’s how I feel.

I just don’t think I’ll get married.

My fickleness and I guess my commitment issues dictates that it is the best plan of action for me.

I guess with that realization in my life it just boils down to that not much else is wrong with me. My angst is gone; I’m set in my anti-social hermit ways. I know that void of my father will never be filled and is damaged beyond repair…strictly out of my control.

What else is there for me to fix? What else is there for me to do?

Not much currently I guess.

Not sure how much this lil’ blog of mine is going to stay alive, not sure how much it will stay the same or if it will slowly morph itself into something else. A photoblog maybe?

I don’t know as I slowly prepare for my Tokyo trip in October.

It’s happening and I’m excited for it.

Can’t wait.

Life.

It’s looking up up and away!!!

Lost in thought, lost in mind.

Memories flooding back to me. Images and reminders that bring forth the hole in my heart.

Emptiness.

Damaged beyond repair, this heart of mine. Damage damage is my psyche that it can’t be fixed.

Falling into this thick black oblivion that I am familiar with. Falling into the empty void that has clouded over my life for years. Suffocating in its darkness, staring out into black.

Black.

Tears. Tears flow as the dam breaks in my eyes. It can’t hold back any longer, not strong enough to be what it is meant to be.

I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. Maybe it is that time of year, that dreaded month.

This week has been emotional to say the least for me. Cracking and tearing up at the slightest thought of my father. Seeing reminders, fatherly things and I just break. Unable to control it, to hold it in.

Luckily, it hasn’t happened in public or in front of anyone. All in the privacy of my own home. This outpouring of emotion, I even hide from my dog.

How sad is that?

I don’t know when it is that I’ll get up from this funk. I don’t know when this darkened fog will leave. I don’t know when the sunshine will burn through these dark clouds. I don’t know, but I just hope that it happens soon.

Damage.

I’m still damaged. I’m still hurt. This hole will never fully heal. It can’t heal, because, in a way, I’m not letting it heal. There’s that special place in my heart for my father, that void that will never be filled.

Maybe, in a way, I do want that. A father. I need a father. I need someone to speak to, to just talk about things, life, someone to seek advice from. I don’t have that.

Sigh.

How can I possible start something, start a family, start a relationship when I’m still damaged? How can I be a part of something new, when I’m so broken? It’s not possible.

I know everyone have their baggage. I have left most of mine in the past, but this one piece of luggage, I carry with me. I can’t let this one go. It’s valuable to me. I can’t lose it. This is a piece that I will carry with me to the day I’m buried.

Baggage.

We all have it, but mine is mine and to me, it is bigger than yours.

Nothing can calm my soul. Nothing can put my soul at ease. It just goes on listless, pining away at something that I can never get back.

Memories and dreams. Never fading as they constant nag at my conscience, reminding me how fucked I am in the head.

So afraid. So scared. So dead set on hardening my heart, not letting anyone in so I don’t hurt anymore.

Protecting myself from this world, from love, from people. Protecting myself from finding a similar connection like that.

No, it’s better to play it safe and be one with my misery.

………..

Going out, hustling about.

Out in the real world of worlds, not in the comfort of my own home, my cave.

Out and about, socializing, falling for the sweet sing songs of these sirens, wooing me with their slight affections of faux interest.

I got about, suckered in, but ultimately enjoying the outing, taking it for what it is.

Maybe I’m turning a new leaf with this new found philanthropy or maybe I just need the attention that I’m not getting from the female persuasion. I don’t what it is, but I’m allowing it to happen.

I am a sucker in one sense, but another sense is that I don’t care. It’s a nice thing to do, a nice gesture to give back to something that I never gave to before. To helping a cause, any cause, for the greater good, something noble. Whether it is to help a dog with cancer, women’s cancer, or even to help lift people’s spirits because they are having a bad day, a tough day. It is something that I’m willing to do.

It makes them feel good. It gives them funds to help the greater good. The greater GOOD!!!!

Maybe I’m just paying it forward, or paying back my karma.

* * *

There at Think Pink, with the ladies of the ladies, the ladies of the ladies, there trying to raise more money for their cause, I just sit and talk, socializing and actually allowing myself to have a good time.

She came over, thanking me, filling my cup. The Asian Tender Hands that I put on her, bringing up old memories and maybe a slight awkwardness for her. I just do it and do it, and she seemed for the most part fine. But ultimately, there is no connection or something that I just can’t read. There’s that slight barrier and mystery between us and it is something that I’m not skilled enough to make out.

Nothing to make out, not knowing, but it happened.

Whether things change between us or it remains the same, I don’t know and I don’t want to push it. I just want things to happen naturally, organically.

Maybe I’m just pushing myself; maybe I’m just trying too hard when it really doesn’t need to be the case.

I don’t know, but I’m just going to let it happen, allow it to be what it is and try not to think about it anymore. She’ll come around if she does, and if not, then it is what it is.

No pressure, no desire.

Maybe that is my problem, the lack of action on my part.

* * *

This constant of not knowing what I want. I say I want to be alone, or I know that I’m going to be alone, but I don’t know. It is what it is, and I say that often enough. It is what it is, and it is, but maybe sometimes there maybe something more. Something that I need to make happen, on my own free will, my action.

One has to act if one wants something.

There’s the catch, the 22, that sick cycle of not knowing.

I want, but I also don’t want.

The confusion that is me, the mysterious cloud that is my brain of what I think I want, but I know I don’t want, but in a part that I secretly yearn for. What the fuck?

Exactly.

* * *

Second day, second rambling. A continuation of the thoughts that ran rampant from yesterday? From the secret secret hush hush to the out in the world of the world.

Life goes on as I go about, seeing a definite change in me, a change in demeanor and general actions in my life.

More willing to go out and more willing to treat. This generosity in me is spreading, spreading through my body.

I’m more willing to find a cause, to make people happy.

It’s not that I’m made of money, and it’s not that I’m struggling in my finances. It is a right balance, but there are times when I do go overboard.

Maybe it is the anticipation of the extra extra that is coming that I’m willing to spend so freely, or maybe I just hit a point in my life where it is comfortable.

I am comfortable. I am in my element, making my own decisions, being persuaded by the tiny tiny and being okay with it.

I really did enjoy the time….really did enjoy it.

* * *

Breathe in…out, soothing my soul, putting me to rest.

Sleeping the endless sleep, dreaming the immaculate dream. Falling into bliss as my life goes and comes together, seeing the shiny shines in front of me.

I reach out, stretching my limbs, grabbing at straws, hoping to just catch something, something that will make this still heart flutter to life.

My heart, beating still, not to its own drum, but to the wind of destiny. It lays dormant in its slumber waiting for something that ignites the fuse, pushing it to life, exploding with joy. It waits so patiently.

My heart.

In and out. Steely cold turning into mushy warm.

The Silence of the Wind flowing through my ears, blocking out the cantos in this chino cantina serving the brew of leaves, drinking my usual drug of choice, as I follow the soft taps taps of digit thumping that my fingers had grown accustomed to.

Blow and blow, the wild wind blows cooling the chill as I play it again, continuing to be blown away.

It’s getting to a point where things just aren’t making sense anymore. Nothing makes sense as I piece together foreign words and phrases that are so familiar to me on so many levels but when it comes to the sing song lyrics of sing songs, it is a jumble mess.

I guess it quite applies to my life as is. I see many things. I understand many things as I can just put things together, in many situations and understand most people, as I dig deeper into their psyche, and apply how certain people react in different situations…how I act in certain situations. Most people are the same, so the assumption is good with a standard deviation, a line of error.

But when it comes to girls and their psyche, I’m a mess. A jumble mess of mass confusion. Never understanding what their actions mean, what their words mean. I mean, honestly, what do they want?

Just be clear, concise…forth coming of information so I don’t need to decipher anything. Just be clear, like clear channel.

* * *

There are times when I just want to eaves drop in this conversation before me, turning down my tunes in the same language that is being spoken, and just blend in and figure out what they are talking about. But sometimes I just don’t care as I need to get certain things out of my system.

It has gotten to a point where there is no point to anything. Things are pointless and just there for the sake of being there.

And that is something that never should be. Things, actions have certain purposes, points, and this seems to be quite elusive to me right now as I just type type tap tap and hope for something coherent.

* * *

For some time now I have been spending a lot of time getting to know Mui Gwai Fah as she would ping me and ping me with her heart pangs and her distress. I lay out my monky monks, hoping to appease her anguish, hoping to get her to finally see after being blinded by her one one for so long.

It is funny how things came about on that drunken night, that fateful that I can never let down, as I don’t even remember how we came to start this relationship that we have. It isn’t anything like that, nothing like that at all. It is more of a confidant relationship….one of pseudo friendship as I deny a true friendship because it’s my will.

But all in all, it isn’t bad as I can be myself to her, saying the things that I say, the insensitive things and she’s okay with it. I don’t mean to do it maliciously, I honestly don’t, but it is me and I tend to just be forward and blunt.

There is no censor to me sometimes and that’s a good thing. She allows me to be who I am without fearing that she’s going to be hurt at my words. I know that sometimes what I do say, my monky monks are hurtful, but in part, she sees the kernel of truth that is in there.

My advice is just strictly advice as I play devil’s advocate to her dilemma. As for the outcome, I really have no stake in. It is not my life, and she does what she does. She asks for my opinion and that is all I give her. No more, no less.

But it is funny how things just go on between us, these little quips of mutual respect and disdain, but all in all, it may be some kind of friendship that will last a long time.

Sigh…..the funny thing about love, it makes us cratarded. And who wants to be that?

Who indeed….

to turn off, to shut down, to go back into my cave and never come out again.

I’m ready.

Since the holiday party, I feel like I’ve been falling into that familiar oblivion that I try to avoid. Most of it has to do with my spectacular display on that faithful night, but it also has to do with other underlying issues that I have that isn’t going to go away any time soon.

Maybe it was that pivotal episode of FNL where Sarason’s father passed away that put me into this funk.

I don’t know what it is, but it just seems that this suppression of this angry sadness of the loss of my father is rearing its ugly head again. It’s coming up and up, faster and faster and I don’t have the strength to squish it down.

Falling into oblivion. Drinking till the demon is gone or just bearable to live.

That emptiness in my heart is just growing and growing and I don’t know how to fix it. What can I do to fix it? What is the solution? Are there any?

It’s difficult for me to shake this feeling currently. I don’t know why. Maybe it is because of the holidays or maybe it is the extreme guilt I feel for everything that happened, I don’t know what it is. Maybe I’m just tired.

Tired in my mind, my body.

Maybe I just need to settle on being a recluse again. Or at least being more of a recluse than I already am. My good year has to come to an end right?

It’s only fair. Something that was exactly the best year of my life has to come to an end, it has to be tainted with something that brings me down to earth, to keep me grounded, to let me know that hey, I’m not OK.

There are a lot of demons that I have and that I don’t know how to deal with. How am I supposed to get over losing my dad?

How?

Sitting there, just watching that ep of FNL, crying, tears flowing. I thought it was over. I thought it was done, but it is a lie. I know it is, because I am a cracked dam, leaking every now and then as I see something or remember something that reminds me of my dad. Flowing.

It was only Pickles, who got concerned and started to lick my face, that I started to smile. He cares about me. He sees that I’m having problems and he swooped in to save my day.

I love my son. I really do and I hope that he really does care for me.

I know there were many reasons why there was such excessive drinking that night. The main reasons are pretty much the same reasons when I get put in a situation like that…and that is just a nervous tick. Being in a large social situation, I get nervous.

I need something to do. I need something in my hand. I need something to put me at ease, and unfortunately it was alcohol. My judgment impaired, and I drink more and more.

Maybe deep down psychologically, I needed something to just not make me think of my dad. I don’t know. I just know that I’m all kinds of…something. I’m OK, but I’m NOT.

Fuck.

I would like to say that I’m done, that it is all over with. I’m too old for this shit, but I know that I’ll drink again, but hopefully it won’t be to that extent. Hopefully I’m smart enough to learn from that lesson.

Hopefully.

* * *

Lingering rants of past gone events that still have a grasp on my soul. Never to shake, never to let go and be free of anything that happened before me.

Lost in thought, lost in misery, guilt. With tired eyes, I stare out into the world, not being able to make sense of anything. The light that shines brightly in my eyes, sears its way through my windows, hoping that it will bring forth the warmy glow that I need to survive, to break way into this darkness that is enshrouding me.

Thinking of the year ahead, the one that lies before me, I’m at a crossroads. A decision needs to be made, lingering on days of the past and how I use to be. That is looking so good to me right now.

Socializing on my own, doing my own thing, watching more and more movies in the theatres. Ways to spend a lazy weekend. I miss those days.

I wonder what happened.

I’m still learning. I’m still experimenting. I’m still trying to figure out what it is that I should do to keep myself entertained.

I think I’m going to throw away any thoughts of settling and just focus on the inevitable.

I work better on my own. By myself. Alone.

That is a lifestyle for me. A man and his dog. That is how it is going to be. I just need to focus on that and not anything else. Hoping and wishing is only holding me back on things that I need to move forward with and that is my life.

Go out and exploring the world with my soul mate…Pickles. My son, my beloved.

He’s a true companion, a friend, that I love with all my heart. He loves me because he just does. Sweet and loyal. Sweet.

Maybe the resurrection of this old hobby of mine is something that I need to get me out and just do things on my own again. This past year has been a year of traveling on my own and I loved it. It’ll be a mixture of more outings and just being on my own. Each building up on something more and more until the day I close my eyes and never open them again.

That would be nice. To not worry about anything at all. Just to go on and do the things I want to do.

So, what is it all about? What are the motions that one needs to go through to make it work, to bring forth the things, the aspirations, the dreams, the goals, the ideal notions of notions? What is it?

How can one make these efforts? Does he need to know his faults to a T so he knows what needs to be fixed? Does he need to research and google the solutions to see how he can manage and beat these obstacles that he’s facing?

What is it?

I don’t know what it is, or what is it that I’m trying to say. I don’t know much of anything in this poor little life of mine. This mundane life of everydayness. What is it?

Again, it seems that I’ve seen many things in my life and experience moments through osmosis and leeching off of other people’s experience and what I’ve been shown and feel that I’ve been there and done that.

I look at other people who have the WHAT that I ultimately would love to have one day and I think to myself, is that what I really want?

It doesn’t seem like it. My idealized notion of romance is nothing compared to the romance of the real world.

Things just aren’t that easy and shiny shiny in a box that I oh so fantasized it to be.

It’s much rawer with arguments, tough times, bickering, and ultimate ruts and ennui that drag on and on.

What is it? Why is it that I’m this way, afraid to make the move or maybe I just feel that I ultimately don’t deserve this move? I just don’t deserve it.

I’ve done many things in this life and maybe in my earlier lives that I regret and I’m facing the ultimate karma for these past lives. When will it be over?

When will I come out and pay my debt back to the karmic gods? When?

* * *

It’s Friday.

I’m here on a Friday trying to make sense of whatever it is that is in my head, trying to figure out what it is that I’m trying to say but nothing makes sense. Nothing ever makes sense.

I find my writing tired and difficult. I can’t think straight and nothing comes as easily as it once did.

Strained.

Maybe I’m tired and I’m just living this life of mine thinking that everything is okay. Maybe everything is okay and I’m living this life of mine how I want to live.

These internal conflicts of mine, these dreams of finding that one true love is just nothing but pure fantasy and distractions that I need to keep in mind so I’m always thinking.

Maybe.

* * *

Tired and drained.

No energy for the spic and span, hoping to just veg out like I usually do.

Lethargic of the going ons in life and just overall lame of things that are cool and happening.

Working on my own little interests that other people has zero interest in. Just thinking about the things that I need to do and not doing as time ticks by.

I wonder will I ever find my muse, my inspiration again to just jot down the words that I need to jot down to finish.,

I just need to finish.

FINISH!!!!

Time passes and passes and I haven’t done much of anything as I just try to fill my life with unnecessary things.

Am I trying to fill a void?

What is the void?

Is it that piece of my heart that died after my father died?

Is it that piece of my heart that died after my failed relationships?

Is it that piece of my heart that died after my failed aspirations?

I’m in a rut, a creative rut and it is driving me crazy.

I go on listlessly, zombiefied hoping that I find you again. Hoping that I find that crackin’ inkling of sparkle. I need you. I want you. Where did I lose you?

Lost and gone is that spark in my life that just drives my imagination, my focus…

Gone is that muse. Gone is my creativity. No rhyme. No reason.

Nothing as I just dote on a little longer here instead of there.

Is this just an ultimate bad place of creative spark? Do I need a change of venue again? Do I need to change and find other aspirations?

What is it that I need to do?

I’m so lost and my mind is a jumble mess of nonsense and just pent up baggage.

Let it out, let it go.

Give up and just let things go.

LET IT GO.

Whatever it is that is pent up and holding up inside, relax and let go.

Let go.

Sigh.

* * *

Thanksgiving 2009

I went to great uncle’s for Thanksgiving this year.

It’ll probably be another year for me to spend all the holidays here withoutgoing anywhere. Not planning on going anywhere, especially during winter break. I just don’t have the money right now and I really want to save up for an 18-200mm Nikor lens. I have to be good and really not spend any money, and that means not getting a netbook so I can take it to work and try to work on things there at work.

Anyway, Thanksgiving.

I decided that I was going to cook a few dishes this year to add to the collection of 3 turkeys that was planned already.

Samson and Sophia did a smoked beer-can turkey.

Nancy did an oil-less fried turkey, candied yams, wild rice.

Robert and Andrea did a traditional roasted turkey in a roaster with stuffing.

I decided I was going to do 4 rack of lambs, 2 green bean casseroles, macaroni & cheese, roasted red potatoes, and asparagus.

Unfortunately I forgot the asparagus.

So, what went down?

Since we weren’t going to have dinner until about 5ish, I didn’t start prepping until 3. I think that was a good time to start, but the oven started to get packed with other things. I thought I’d be the only one using it, but it wasn’t the case.

Also, I was only expecting about 20 people this year and I was cool with that, but Great Aunt’s other family came over and it became 35+ people. Not cool.

It was packed everywhere and no stove space and I still have things that haven’t even started to cook yet.

I prepared the potatoes first and had them put in the oven. Then I prepped the green beans and they just sat waiting for the oven. Next the mac & cheese and then that was sitting, waiting.

I had to get started on the lamb and focused on that while I relied on Robert and them to put the necessary things in the oven. I had to use the bbq grill for the lamb after searing it in the outside kitchen.

Ultimately, in the end, I finished my dishes.

Since there were so many things in the oven at one time, it wasn’t hot enough to cook everything. I should have had the potatoes at a higher temperature.

So, done and done, but a lot of the things didn’t turn out as how I wanted.

The green beans could have used more cream of mushroom soup. I normally use two 10-3/4oz cans, but this time only used one for each casserole. It wasn’t creamy enough for me and. The beans were a good texture for me (crispy), but again, could have used a higher temperature and gone a little longer.

The mac & cheese was very creamy, which is good, but unfortunately the pot that I used to make the roux sucked. Things got burnt and you can taste it. It wasn’t salty enough either. I thought the cheese would have added more flavor, but it didn’t and the recipe didn’t as for salt, or maybe it did and I forgot.

The roasted potatoes….was soft, but not roasted. It was more baked than anything else.

The lamb with the panko bread crumbs. I was worried because I couldn’t get a good temperature from my new instant read thermometer. It ran out of batteries or something, so I didn’t know what the temperature was. I had to rely on timing, and it went a lot longer than I was hoping. I used one of Nancy’s thermometers. In one set of racks, it was still at a low temperature and in another it was the right one. I took it all out, after a long time and thankfully, it all turned out.

I thought the lamb was really good.

In the end, maybe it was because there was so many people, all the food pretty much got eaten. So, for that I’m glad, but unfortunately, I didn’t feel good about the dinner because things didn’t turn out as I planned.

For sure next time, panko bread crumbs. Not going to use any other kind.

Sigh….back to the kitchen to perfect my dishes.