How far do we go for something like this? How much are we willing to sacrifice to make that kind of connection with that someone to do that something to do whatever it is that we must do to do what it is that we want to do? How we must jibjab the nonsensical to clear our conscience of the things that forever cloud our mind? How much gibberish is there?

There is a great distance between us. Will this distance ever shrink? Will it ever come of a comfortable distance that we are both looking for? Are you hoping that it would be longer or are you like me, secretly hoping for a shorter one?

I just sit here doing my usual routine with a cup of orange juice because why not? I just sit here thinking how things transpired between us and how the day went with the flying paper clips and the supersonic nuts…

I just sit here rethinking the day, the week, the month, and I just have to say that there’s no bigger smile on my face than when I’m just thinking about our time together.

It put that little look of private lost happiness that rarely surfaces on my face and people question what it is that puts that mysterious look on my face. I tell them nothing for it is not for them to know. It is all I need to think about to get me through the day.

But the day progresses and day turns into night and night turns into dawn and I just sit and wonder, sit and think, sit and sit, and all there is for me to do is to write and put these private lost happy thoughts into the cryptic words that I usually do.

About 1500 miles lie between us. Buildings and empty space. Concrete and grass. Dirt and sand. Heat heat heat. A oasis of mirage and illusion that lies between us. We are two specs of sand in a vast dessert, separated by nothing but other specs…lost to each other.

To find each other will prove the existence of fate and destiny….God, some might dare to say. To find each other will be a miracle in itself.

I met a person that was deemed a match yesterday and it was all business down to the formal handshakes when we introduced each other and when we parted ways. We each kept our space of professional courtesy and slowly dissect our lives and our thoughts that way. What was to be a meeting of like minds turned into a meeting of like minds but without the chemistry and the constant flirting of co-habitable like minds.

I am too laid back and too much of an apathetic slacker to be anything that may seem attractive in your eyes. You are too much of the businesswoman to be the woman that I want to play with.

Whether things will continue with us, I have no idea. I guess if we talk we will talk through the void like we usually do…but maybe the stake has finally met its final resting ground in the heart of this never begun relationship. Things just didn’t spark like the chemistry wasn’t there with Rocky’s wife. There’s just nothing there…business is business.

Now I sit here just typing away stealing glances at the people around me. The one who I usually see in here with the laptop and the internet is talking to the young young young college girl who just wants to make it through school, as the other more quiet antisocial girl…the cute coffee girl that I see often works and keeps busy to pass the time. She hides behind the counter cleaning this, moving that, doing whatever, and never stops to take a breather.

The young college girl in her cute cons and her bootleg jeans..way too cute and hot by the way…sits so intuned in the conversation with the creepy internet guy, that it just seems like she maybe interested.

But I sit and type and look at the sunflowers that sit so pretty at the counter. So bright and exuberant in color like its name sake. It’s not hard to smile at something like that. Hard not to.

I reached out to you tonight. I reached out to you. I was nervous and reserved and quiet in my thoughts…these were the thoughts of private lost happiness that piqued the interests of others to know what it is that was bothering me. My outreach to you was what I kept a secret from the others.

I know that it is right for me to do what I did. I know that was the best thing I could do and that was to act. I had to act like life been telling me to act. I bit the bullet and reached out to you…just with simple words and questions…That is how things should go…simply.

I sit here nervous as to expect a response. Will it be soon or will I have to play the waiting game? Will you know who it is when you see my name or will you treat it as a solicitor and trash it like normal folks do?

I was funny and kind and sincere in my words to you. I was my usual self with a bit of smart derriere in tone…to keep it light and relaxed.

But all in all, I really don’t know what it is that I want. Did I fall for her, not for her charms, but because of the distance between us? Did I fall for her because I know that there was no chance for her to come back here and be with me…did I fall for her because she’s safe?

I see that she’s cute, hot to my eyes….her smile just melts whatever icing there is in me…but are those really the reasons or is it really for the reason I listed above….I will never know.

I am alone now in the coffee shop..almost around the time that I usually go…but should I go now? I need to be up early tomorrow to drive a long way to take part in the writers group that I am a part of. I will drive to a city that I’ve never been and afterwards, hang out with a long lost cousin that I barely know. That should be interesting to say the least…Very interesting.

Flirting. My drug of choice. Flirting. It never ends. It never ends. I do it so effortlessly and with such pleasure today and almost everyday that I am at work. It works easier, so much easier, when she is willing to participate in these little games that I play. The paper clip tossing, the sly word play and the innuendo in the window that makes her blush her cute blush.

The slight touches and hand holding, ass slapping, and just plain playing that we do so often. Chemistry is what we have. Chemistry is just so apparent that it is hard to miss. You play it off like we don’t, but deep inside, you know we do. You know we do. We work well together. You get me at work, and I get you at work. That’s where our relationship stand. That’s where we should be.

Oh smiley face, smiley face, so cute and foreign, why do you have to live so far away?

Oh Smiley Face, Smiley Face, so cute you are; what do you think of me?

oh smiley face, smiley face, are you thinking of me?

* * *

I sit here just thinking about what might have been between us if we were both upfront about our feelings to each other? Where will we be if I told you that I thought you had a cute smile? Would you have blushed and laughed and be flattered at my comment or would you have chuckled the universal awkward chuckle and slowly quiet down and not know how to act?

I wouldn’t know how to act either, and I’m the one wishing for things to be different. What if I did tell you what I thought of you? What if I told you that we have so much in common that we would be a great fit together? What would have happened? How would you see me? How do you see me?

Is it in a different light from that I see you?

I think you are cute, hotness to my eyes. Your beauty and your grace, that smiles of yours that just melts the ice I usually put up. You stun me with who you are and what you do? You just stun me.

How I would love to go to the places you have been, doing the things that you do so readily? I’m jealous to hear the words that come out of you mouth, wishing to myself that those are the things that I wish I would have done.

Maybe I’m not too old to do the things that you’ve done. Maybe I’ll end up getting there eventually, following each step that you’ve taken so many years before. Maybe I could have you show me the steps that you’ve taken along on your Odyssey.

My how much I would love to see half the world that you’ve already claimed your stake in. I declare this land here and the time I spent here MINE! How I would declare my affection for you in my own very special ways. The slight grins, the stealthy glances, the confident wit and the acerbic charm. Oh how I would woo you with the mean humor that is I.

But, I don’t know where things stand with us. I don’t know where they would go. I am here. You are there. There’s just so much between us…a empty crevice that falls to the depths of hell and us not knowing what it is that we each think of the other.

You may have gotten a hint before I left…me offering my social ness whenever you decide to come back to where I am. But being the illiterate that I am, I could not tell whether you appreciated the invitation or you were just creeped out by the everyday me…

Why is it that my heart always finds time to play these games with my soul? Is it to make me tougher than I already am? Well, considering how big of a wuss I am, I think it is only fair.

Maybe it is to teach me to act and to take charge of the situation at hand. Be the hero that rescues this young beautiful damsel in distress from the “hell hole” that she’s residing in.

I woke up so early that day, and all I could do was wish you would wake up soon. All I could do is think of you. But I guess things never happen the way that I wish, so I spent the morning alone, watching tv, reading, but never able to pay attention because all that is you distracted me from what it is that I need to focus on.

I can’t believe that I learned more about you in our recent short time together than the week that we spent living together. I remember us having our little chat, but oh so vaguely. It is like a lost scent of cigarette smoke or a faint perfume, fading away…only a brief scent remains. Little hints that existed in my ever-fading memories.

I’ve learned so much about you from our little bursts of laughter, joking, and talks about who you are and what you did…learned so much about you during our little catch-up.

Usually, I just clam up, shut up and not say a word..and just ponder from afar. This time it was different. My inquisitive nature beats down the usual quiet self and up a storm we’ve chatted.

But what is there for me to do? What is there for me to do? What can I do to make this work, or even try to make a connection? This is a connection that I don’t want to be severed or be just a passing one. This is a connection I would love to be long term…just a serious connection like all those that were oh so elusive.

But there is really no point in me wondering what might have been here in this empty void. There is none at all. I should just let things be, let things be. I will play the cards that I have up my sleeve, I will play my hand that I’ve been dealt, “gambling” with what I have….a pocket sixes and I go all in.

Are you willing to take the gamble and go all in with me? The flop is about to turn and it is….

Maybe in a few weeks, maybe in a few days, things will change and for some miracle of the world, we end up making that connection again. Maybe…

Oh how your smile captured when if I first made you laugh. Oh how your smile captured me as we talked and caught up with your going ons.

I never thought that I would find someone to connect with up there. Never thought that it could happen. Sure I kept my heart open for the possibility, but honestly, I never did thought about it.

I thought it was going to be one of those hang out with friends and just chill type of thing. I never thought I would have been blown away….oh how my poor heart is playing games with my poor soul. How unfair it is to me.

Oh, just how I ponder….

I’m just sitting here at my new spot..and I’m just typing away as I not so slyly steal glances at the cute coffee girl that served me for the first time not so long ago. I wonder what it is that she thinks of me? Why do I torture myself the way I do? I should just forget these pipe dreams and dream dreams of reality…which just escapes my mind.

I wonder will there ever be a day when it is I that is questioning and declaring my vows and my willingness to join this union all at the same time. “I Do?” I wonder when my time will come or if it will ever come. I’m sure that my time will come and it will not even be close to what it is that I partake in this past weekend.

I’m sure it will be in the car like I told Smiley Face. I’m sure it will be as “classy” as how she described. What can I say…I’m classy.

Sometimes I just don’t know what it is that I want. Sometimes I just don’t know what it is that I need. I just do what I do and hope for the best. Am I playing this right? Should I hold back a little? Should I be more direct? Where have my confidence gone? Where did this confidence come from?

Such a complicated confused simpleton I am. I can never decide or make heads or tails of what I am to do with people, my heart, my soul, my self, and everything else. I just go on and hope that it’s the best. Hope for the best. Hope.

Now I just sit here listening to the black unnamed named track of what seems to be Death Cab for Cutie, listening to the words and not knowing what it is that you are singing because of the blaring music of this seemingly busy drug den. It is only I who dare not drink the drugs that they offer, but went with something more natural…something squeezed and tangy..citrus-sy.

I wonder how many people would read my words and actually understand and comprehend what it is that I’m talking about…

Sometimes I don’t know what I’m talking about or why I say the things I do say. LESSON LEARNED: never call anyone, especially a girl, a BITCH, even on one of your smart-ass rants, and especially when you really didn’t mean it.

I’m dry. Very dry, like the desert sands of Gobi. Most people can never tell when I’m joking or when I’m serious because I just present it as is without the slightest hint of playful tone. From this comes miscommunication. From this comes anger and bouts of silence and me sweating that I’ve lost a friend. I’ve learned my lesson not to call you a BITCH…

All I’ve been thinking of for the past couple of weeks is the other trip up to San Francisco/San Jose coming up next week. For some reason, I can’t get it out of my head. Maybe it is just because I get to see family again, or maybe just because it is another opportunity for me to socialize, and since this weekend….maybe it is an opportunity for me to get the 411. I don’t know..but I’m really excited about this trip.

I’m not sure what it is going to be like, or what is going to happen, I’m just gonna go up there and hang with family and strangers, and hopefully make new friends and other things…

Dreams….I use to remember my dreams often and in detail. Every single moment and every single incident that would happen in the dream, I could recall it so perfectly. But as I moved down here, my dreams seem to be a arm length away, just out of grasp. They whither in the ether fading away so silently and so out of mind. Maybe it’s because I don’t find the time to jot down my dreams anymore, dissect it to the meaning of the day, the week, the month…Just maybe…

But recently, I have been able to remember most of my dreams. Recently they play so perfectly like little movies in my head, so clear and so weird. Offbeat is a term I would use to describe the brain movies I play every night. Offbeat Brain Movies.

As of late, my dreams seem to be full of people, they seem to be full of family. Why is it that I’m dreaming of family all of a sudden? When did it start?

I still remember during my days of lost and confusion…my younger days as I would like to put it…my dreams are of me lost in a sea of people, keeping my distance and not interacting. I’ll roam and wander, in search of something that I do not know what I’m searching for or why I’m searching for it. I go to and fro in search, wandering aimlessly with a purpose that is beyond my comprehension. I wander and wander, walk and walk. I was an outsider watching the people interact as I keep my distance.

I use to be monsters, victims; chased and killed…I was just a lost junkie in a world where things aren’t easily found.

Even in my dreams, I seem to be the odd ball out, going in a different direction as everyone else is going. I go right as everyone else goes left. It was very literal that way. Very. I always go my own way, I always am independent…alone…my life. That’s me. Alone and on my own, independent of everyone and all things.

Now, it just seems that I am surrounded by family. Family this and family that. We aren’t doing much together, but just hanging out. We’ll just talk and do stuff…I’m still not sure about the details, but I just know for sure that I’m around family a lot.

Now whether this means that I miss family or what not, I’m not really sure. I just know I dream about them.

I don’t remember if I wrote about this before, but my father frequents my dreams a lot. He’ll just be there in the back ground, just watching me, keeping out of the interactions, just keeping his distance.

I think it started a few months after he passed away. I would see him in my dreams. I remember my mom asking me if I saw my dad in my dreams. I would say no, because at that time he didn’t show up. She would ask if he said anything in the dreams…again, no he didn’t. He kept his distance like a stranger watching what is going to happen next. He kept his distance like I would keep my distance in my own dreams.

At first, he wouldn’t say anything to me. Not a word. Even when I’m talking to him, he wouldn’t say anything. He would stand there like a ghost, not interacting, but just watching my every movement. Slowly he would start to say things. I’m not sure what he would say. I honestly can’t remember, but I just remember him talking to me. Whether it was heartfelt or meaningful, I don’t remember.

I remember in one of my earlier dreams with my father, he was driving my family and I to somewhere. I would ask him where we were going, but he would never respond. He’d always keep silent. Distant like he’s been all his life. Just distant.

But now things are different. I still have residuals of him being in my dreams, but again, I don’t remember as clearly anymore. I still remember him talking to me, just interacting.

It just brings back memories to how we were while he was here. How growing up, he was always distant, but yet warm at the same time. Now, I don’t want to say that we were a warm family of hugs and kisses. No, we weren’t. We just don’t do that, not at all. But it was strange, ever since I moved down, I could always expect a weekly phone call from him. Just a genuine “hi, how are you doing?” type of thing from him. That’s what I missed, our connection that came so late.

That had been what I’ve always wanted between my family and I. The genuine connection of just talking about anything, our feelings and such. It just seems that we never did that while growing up. Maybe that’s why I have been dreaming about my family so often. Maybe it is just that the connection is there finally.

Now it is with my mom and her calls. She worries about me, I know…I could tell from her voice, as she would call me.

But there are the dreams as of late. Family. I dream of family and just being with them, just hanging out and not doing anything like what family is supposed to do. Just be there and not do anything and be perfectly all right with it. There’s no sense of awkwardness and not fitting in. It just is.

But thinking about it…what are dreams? Are they just synapses firing and firing like our eyes are creating images of the things we see but only in our sleep? Are they just functions of the brain interpreting the firing synapses in our sleep? Are they meaningless interpretations of firing synapses or are they something more? Are they our subconscious telling us what we need to do and explain to us what is on our mind?

I fall in both camps when it comes to interpreting dreams because sometimes dreams are so surreal and so incomprehensible that I can’t find meaning in these random images that flow together in a nonsensical narrative. But other times, my earlier days, my younger days…I believe that there is meaning in these dreams. I would write and interpret and analyze each dream and finding the ultimate message each dream is trying to tell me.

I did find an answer to most of my dreams. They all follow a similar theme. I was lost, not knowing where to go, not knowing what to do or what I’m looking for. I just wander and wander like Cain in his Kung Fu journey. That was the general theme I would have.

I would be so alone, running away from the people and the world around me. Feeling like the weakless victim, being killed by the aliens and the strange things I do not understand. I am an outcast, hence I am the monster in my dreams, always running and running from people and strangers that seem to come in droves and droves.

I was always alone, working my on my own, working my own mojo. Going to places and making decisions that no one will make.

But now, things are different. I fit in. I am with family, I am interacting, I am never alone. I am never chased, I am relaxed, being whoever I am. I’m not in an endless search for something that I don’t know what I’m looking for. I am found and comfortable with who I am and what I’m doing. I am found.

My dreams reflect that. Dreams are a reflection of our lives. Dreams are a replay of the major events that happen in our life; dreams are a replay of our mental health.

I am healthy. It is healthy to miss family, especially when you aren’t surrounded by family. It is healthy to be with people and be comfortable around them. It is healthy to socialize and to interact. It is healthy to feel happy about the situation you are in, not to feel any anxiety or fear. I am a healthy soul connected to the world.

Maybe I’m in a dream now, sitting here at my new coffee spot with this free internet typing my thoughts away, typing my dreams away. I’m just typing about the things that are on my consciousness listening to the words nothing’s gonna change my world.

These words ring so true. nothing’s going to change my world. Nothing. My world is just this and it is what I make it to be and everything I make my world to be is just is. It will always be the same because it is what I want it to be and it is the thing that is offered to me. If things comes along they are things that are meant to come along.

So I sit here typing away in this dream state, typing away. I would look up and study my surroundings. The yummy blueberry cheese swirl that is behind the glass case or my empty regular ice vanilla latte. I just sit here just typing away because I cannot do anything else but type. I can’t stop because I don’t want to stop and don’t want to hinder this stream of conscious rant I am going with.

I look up in search of the cute brunette that served me with my ice drink but she’s nowhere to be seen. I only see the blonde guy that took my money. The other lonely man with his headphones has his attention in front of his computer, taking in the free internet that this place offers. The two men that just came in sit and talk about things I do not know for my music is drowning out their conversation.

Oh sweet hot brunette, where are you at?

I just sit and type, sit and type, sit and type like I usually do, going with the flow as I do best.

I dreamed of a blonde last night and we flirted and made plans to do the deed but it was all spoiled by family being in the situation so we postponed it. I don’t remember you clearly, but you were blonde and attractive in my eyes. We made plans that got spoiled but in the end, all things worked out.

I was to take you to the Farmer’s Market on Fairfax and you gave me protection for the dirty deed that we planned to do. I grabbed your ass and you proclaim I am a typical male that I so proudly believe myself to be. But then all is lost because it was time for me to wake up and go to work and deal with the daily grind.

Is this dream connected to the dream that my neighbor had. She dreamed of me; me of all people she dreamed. It was a Monday so she said, or maybe a Tuesday, it was the first day of work after a weekend, she was sure of that.

I told her about my sexcapdes during the weekend and my general enthusiasm of all things sex. I had sex. I was no longer a virgin and I was happy go lucky as any guy who got lucky should be. She laughed as she told me this story, her big smile as she said I got laid.

I joked with her, telling her that she “dreamed of me”. Oh how we play, how we jest. She then went on to proclaim that she’s a psychic…seeing the pregnancy of her cousin or her aunt, I’m not sure, but a relative of hers. She proclaims that she’s a psychic. Does this mean that she’s a psychic in this realm? I’m not sure.

But again, I dreamed last night that I made plans to get laid. Does this have anything to do with her dream or is it just my separate dream? I believe that it is a separate dream about the dream that she had..me forcing the situation at hand to come true. Now whether it will happen, I’m not sure. Knowing me, writing it here, bringing these thoughts to voice, bring these dreams to heart, it will never come true.

So I sit here still wanting to steal another look at the coffee girl, who just came out as I typed my wish and disappeared again. How strange and weird..How the timing just works in mysterious ways.

We were alone at first, striking up small talk about how quiet it is here. “They come in spurts” as she tells me about Friday night business, but then she went on making my coffee. I wasn’t engaging enough. I keep my distance, mysterious and quiet. Lost in thought.

It’s been a quiet and uneventful night of me writing as I should be, but not working as I need to be. It’s just my slow process of getting back into the grove.

What does it mean to find the girl in my dreams? What does it mean? Who is it actually?

There are so many strangers that appear in my dreams. Girls that I don’t recognize or don’t ever remember meeting. Not even girls I just see while walking down the street. I don’t know how my imagination, my dreams pick these lovely ladies that come across my dreams.

Now the blonde, maybe it is the “fizzler” that I had no chemistry with. She was blonde, that’s all I know, but she never said that she would do me good. We talked and then it was over…that’s how things are in my life. We talk and things are over. They find me a bore, they find me unexciting, like I really am. They see me who I really am.

I really do wonder how many people actually see me for who I really am? Am I really the guy that comes out to play with Isela or am I some other guy and she’s the only one that brings out that side of me? I wonder who I really am. It’s strange, one would think that I know, considering I got myself together. One would think that. One would know. But I really don’t know.

So I just sit here, as she just wanders around, studying, thinking about what she needs to get down before the night is over. I sit here as they approach closing and I just type away and type away and type away…

Blonde. Blonde. Blonde. Who can it be? Who can be that dream girl that I’m thinking of? Maybe it’s someone I haven’t met. Maybe it’ll be a complete stranger that will make herself visible when she makes herself visible…maybe at a wedding.

Looking ahead, I just go with the flow, do the things I need to do and live the life that I have been living. Looking ahead, I can’t for my payday because I am honestly broke, not having the money I feel comfortable with so I can actually live.

Where should I start, where should I go? What story should I tell? The one about the current situation, being married to a total stranger and being forced to connect with her because of the connection that we have…or should it be the one where I died because of a girl and am now living in a perpetual hell of bliss and heartache? I cannot decide, but a part of me wants me to tell the story that will put closure to my current situation and I know I need to do that soon. I think I will.

Lemon Poppyseed Cake. Brownies. Are they the special kind?

I’ve been in a rare state these past couple of months. Many notice, but I do have my spurts because it is hard to ditch nature..but I’ve been very happy go lucky lately…especially at work. It all started when I just decided to do what I must do and start building a shield and take things for what they are and not treat them so seriously. I’m not taking things and not taking matters to heart, because I know I can’t. Things aren’t going to happen, but I could at least enjoy it while I can, just until I find a replacement.

Things always happen for a reason. Things always happen because they need to happen. Am I starting to believe in fate again…I don’t know…but I think I’ve always believe that things happen for a reason. I’ve always believe that things happen because things happen like that. There is no way around it. There is no way around it.

I am not god. I can’t control the life that is around me. I can’t dictate the events that haven’t happen yet. I am merely a bystander going along and reacting to the events that happen. Whether I had a part in creating those events or just merely a spectator…I just accept it as things that need to happen.

Brunette. Brunette. Brunette. (Just to be fair)

I’ve decided that there is no point in being someone I am not. Just be me and if someone doesn’t appreciate it or if someone doesn’t find it attractive, than that is how things should be. They should find who I am, this jackass funny man, attractive and that is how it should be. There’s no point in me changing who I am for the sake of being with some one. Because in the end, things are just going to explode in my face, and I’m just not a big fan of things exploding in my face.

It’s funny, the things I do just to stretch the imagination, things I do just to stretch time. I’m just typing and typing, coming up with things that keep my interest and the interest of my imaginary audience.

This is nice. This is really nice. Just sitting out here around people and typing. But I know for sure I wouldn’t be able to work around people this way. I wouldn’t be able to do the work I need to do if I am so easily distracted by the things that surround me. This is place is only for the blog in me. This is the place for the stream of conscious writing that I do often.

There are just things to keep my interest and things to write about in an area like this. The lounger, the guy formerly known as “the other lonely guy with headphones enjoying the free internet” is now laying across on the sofa, surfing the web or watching something on his laptop. I wonder why is it that he comes out here when he has nothing to do? Does he need the sense of social contact, the surrounding people or is it the free internet that grasp his attention?

I came out here because of the free internet. I could post this posting here and now, here and now without having to redo my connection at home.

I might just be up all night with the caffeine that I had, at such a late hour too. I wonder how long would I last. Would I be able to sleep the lovely sleep that I love so dearly?

What is it that I need to do this weekend? All I know is that I can’t spend any money because I have no money to spend. Tonight will be the last night where there will be any spending because that is what I said I would do. Whether that will actually be true, I have for the life of me no idea.

It is just funny how I am trying to connect with some people that I’ve lost along the way. It’s all because of my flaw of not keeping in touch that we’ve lost touch. One who came tumbling and one who I use to flirt with. I’ve emailed them both, but haven’t receive any notification or acknowledgement that they care to respond.

Tomorrow will be a night where I will be working on the work that needs to get done. No more excuses as to why I’m not working, but I’m just going to sit down and work. I have no fear at how bad the writing will be. I will just write because I need to jump-start this dream again.

This is my dream. This is my dream. Sitting here writing. Sitting here writing. This is my dream. This is my dream. My how many directions and interpretations that that simple sentence brings. This is my dream.

I think I should end it on that note. It’s just so pitch perfect. This is my dream.

When asked why it is that I’m single, I just and stare at her eyes. I look as if I’m thinking, contemplating the answer as if it is lost deep in the heart of my soul…I kill myself trying to think of the answer.

The answer is at the tip of my tongue but I still play along like I don’t know. I play because it is the part of the game. I play because that’s the reason why I’m still single. It’s all in the game; it’s all in the chase.

Oh, the little glances, the slight touches, the little jokes that we play on each other. It’s the connection and the chemistry that draws me in. It’s the flirting that gets my blood boiling. What’s the point when you get what you want and the games start to end? Where would the fun be? It’s a dangerous game of heartache and pain, but it’s a game that I play willingly.

Things have been going strange lately. The games we play, the glances and the talks we have just doesn’t have that little flare that it had before. Something is missing between us and I can’t place it.

Maybe it’s my attempts at distancing myself, detaching myself from the situations at hand. We go about our business the same as usual but the pizzazz isn’t there anymore. The small touches are short and less between; the jokes are less funny and impersonal. Things are going about in a half assed way. I guess that’s how things are meant to be. I guess that’s how things should be. It’s progress.

So it goes and goes as I try to find a new subject for me to try new things with…and the search goes and goes. I thought I had a possibility by apparently the chemicals didn’t react quite as well as it could. The reaction wasn’t nearly as reactionary as the NaCl should be. It fizzled and as two bases are put together into the mix. It just was DOA.

We talked and played the usual games of catch-up and “hi, how do you do’s?” as two strangers usually do, but it was just that. Two distant strangers that were distant in their proximity of the other…on a mobile device that just transmits our voice to the other and we have to go to our imaginations from the pixels that were uploaded to get a view of who we were.

I imagined you tall and sweet, pale and blonde, with baby blues that your photo presented. I wonder which one you thought of me with…the “cute smile” you so proclaimed…the one from Sacramento I bet.

I wonder what it was that made you decide to fizzle what was what? I wonder what it was that made you think things will never work out the way things would go? I just wonder? Why end it the way that you did without giving it more time?

You said that there wasn’t any chemistry? How can there be chemistry when the chemicals weren’t given sufficient time to interact? You even said so yourself that chemistry can be found given time…One single night for 26 minutes surely isn’t enough time to make a reaction.

Was Bradley right in his assessment that your cat-napper came back into your life with the cat you so loved? But I do agree with Bradley in the assessment that chemistry is from a physical thing. It most definitely is.

The little touches, the glances, the smell, the physical attraction that just get the hormones, the pheromones, the chemistry as you so proclaim will start to react together and then, voila…chemistry ensues. But again, the formula doesn’t because there was very little mixing and very little agitation that was much needed for a chemical reaction to start.

But I guess that’s how things go. I guess that’s how life is. A series of miss connections and miss moments…two strangers trying to make a connection that ends up to become nothing because one or the other or both find that things just aren’t working out the way that it should work out. Life….that’s how it goes.

So I go on and on in my endless search and rescue of the things that needs to be searched and rescued. Whether it is another stranger or whether is someone that I already crossed paths with. Life is a mystery that way.

Maybe I’m just too nice in my ways and people find that too safe? Maybe that’s it…like me and another stranger of the night. I took you home as you wished because it was the nice thing to do, and besides I had nothing else going on. We sat and talked as I drove you to your place of business and residence. We talked and I thought. I’m sure you thought whatever it is that crossed your mind about me, about life, about you also. I guess that’s how things happen.

You brought out your pet, so stuffed and artificial and you gave it life that only you can see. A feline that you mistaken to be a canine. My mind starts to process who you are already. My mind starts running of locations of the nearest hospitals..but it comes to a lost because I don’t know many…especially psychiatric ones.

Sure you proclaimed that you loved it..because it never shits or it never pisses, it doesn’t eat, it doesn’t shed, it always listens, and it is huggable….and many other things that you love about it so much….and I’m thinking..you are fucking crazy. It’s a inanimate stuffed animal that you have there. All I said to you was that it was “cute”.

“Good” is what you said when I said I didn’t have a girlfriend…because I then could talk to you freely…but where were you going with that? Apparently nowhere. When you describe your ideal man, the prestige, the level of power and business pizzazz..the name that you want him to have and that you want him to make for himself…all I thought was about the treasures you will reap from him. I then thought that things will never be between us, because I have nothing that you were looking for and I’m not a man who is interested in leaches.

So I just sat there, paying attention to the road and keeping up the conversation because all in all, it was just awkward for me to take a stranger home and just sit there in silence until I get you there.

Now, that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t go into your place if you asked. I surely would. Why? a friend of mine asked when I was recounting this harrowing tale of servitude and intrigue…and I just say for the experience of things. I would have done it too and if things progress to where I’m given an opportunity to take her fruit in which she’s giving so freely, I will savor every bite and then move on like the man in Passion Fruit.

Is that what I’ve become, this unattached pariah that goes about lusting for whoever that is unfortunate to come along? I know I haven’t done anything yet, but will I ever go there? I don’t now. I honestly can say that I don’t know.

Another friend was disappointed when I told her about my still lingering feelings about my neighbor, so disappointed in me she was. She even went ahead and believed that I would most definitely try something if the opportunity presented itself with her…and I assured her that I wouldn’t, because honestly..I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t go there unless she is available and from the looks of things, it’s not going to be ever be possible for me to go there. Again, the slow detached formalities of our relationship is taking over in our daily lives and routines. We do it because it has become routine too.

I’m sure I’ve been dropped a few notches in this friend’s book, but I don’t care. Bradley got it right…I only do it because it is safe. I know it isn’t going to go anywhere and I get the pleasure of what I want. It’s a win win situation for all parties. It’s safe. safe. safe.

Given the time when this little experiment that I’m trying is over, I don’t know where things will go from there. Whether I will continue on with the experiment or just treat it like what it is…an experiment that once it is finished, it is finished and I have served my curiosity and I will forever just wander the world listless like I’m use to do.

I’ve never even asked for pixels of my current and only connection now that the other deem our reaction is not mixing. I’ll just let things go and go until it is time for me to take the next step and see how she wants to play this. It is all in my right to ask for her pixels, I have every right as my pixels are shown for all to see. Maybe she wants to build up a connection first, maybe she wants me to see what is inside of her first then work outside. Who knows? Females, the non-understandable kind.

There just comes a point where I just don’t know where I’m going or what I’m doing in these little games and escapades because I’m just so inexperienced at it. Maybe I should just take the advice that I often give and just let things flow like the H2O (a common chemistry resultant, by the way). Just let things flow like water and adapt to whatever it is that comes my way.

Don’t force things because they will surely break over time. Just let things go. Just let things go. Don’t even try.

I don’t know where my destiny lie. I don’t know what road I’m gonna take. I don’t know much about the blank slate that is in front of me. All I know is that I work well alone. All I know is that I don’t mind the independence and the freedom of doing things myself. It’s just I’m human and I wouldn’t mind getting a benefits for all I’ve done.

But I guess some times, life just doesn’t happen that way. I guess sometimes, we all can’t get what we want. Life just goes and I just have to let it go wherever the wind blows. I’m like the feather in Forrest Gump, floating to the lyrical melodies, being blown about by the wind of nature, taking my time to go wherever it is that I need to go and just go there for the sake of going there.

I just sit and watch as things go about and just trying to make things right, but all in all things only happen after Playing by Heart. Talking about love is like, dancing about architecture. Exactly. Exactly. Exactly. It’s just things that you can’t explain and it’s just things that happen. We can’t explain it…we can’t talk about it…we just have to let it happen.

Like the one that base that mixed with my basic self…she decided to close what we started and I just have to let that happen and not think about it because that is what needs to happen in life.

Sometimes I do rack my brain about those that were lost, those connections that I’ve made during a few hours and then we move on. For instance, the one from Eugene…I don’t know her name is for sure, but I was told that there was one that shares the name of a famous tennis star that isn’t a planet. She thought I was hot. If it is her, I certainly thought she was. A single child, growing up in Oregon and moving down here to live her own life like I did. But, again, where is she now, moved on and a distant memory. I had a great time with her that day, she standing and me lounging, just talking and getting to know her. Things just came easy between us for some reason. At least that is what I remembered.

I wonder would she recognize me now if I pass her by? I doubt it. What does all this mean? All these connections that just come and go? What does it all mean? Opportunities that present itself and then disappear like the mist in the sky…maybe it is just hints and clues that is trying to drill itself into my stubborn brain. I need to act. I need to move. I just need to do.

But as far as I know, my search just goes and goes until I find another to flirt with. Until then, until then…

Sitting on the bench, just watching the cycling clothes spin and spin, I thought of you. I thought of the clothes you wear, the polos, the shirts, the jeans you fit. I thought of you. That was the last time I thought of you that way.

Now with the officiality of whatever you want to coin it brought to my attention, I can look at you, I can think of you, I can see you in a different light. There are no use for the thoughts I had before, for they were just a fevered dream of wanting. Now I look at you like I do everyone else. You are just a face in the crowd, chucked into my past trophies.

From what I saw and what you told me and what transpired on our last day, I just came to realize it’s better to let things be. There is no use in pursuing something that cannot be caught. None. Why chase an imaginary elusive legendary creature when you know deep inside your heart it doesn’t exist. If it doesn’t exist, it cannot be caught. So there’s no point in lingering on those thoughts and fantasies of obtaining the unobtainable.

The chase will always be in the back of my mind. The times will always be there, buried deep under the new found relationship that I must live with you. But soon, they will be long lost like the others before you. Out of sight, out of mind.

There’s nothing like seeing him to make things so definite. There’s just nothing like seeing him to make me turn off these feelings I have like a light that doesn’t need to be on. Seeing him just makes it more real.

Now I just sit here like I usually do, thinking about what else to jot down in this little walk down memory lane. I just sit here, thinking of you for the last time before I see you again in a different light.

I wonder how you see me now after that unfaithful night? I wonder do you hate me for defying your requests? I wonder did I hurt you when I grabbed you just a little too hard. I apologize if I did. I just wonder how you see me now, now that I know?

It’s just funny for me for this should have happened a long time ago when I first found out. There shouldn’t be these feelings and these bouts of flirtation that lingers in the air as we are speaking to each other. Things like these should never happen, but yet, they always find their way to my doorstep. Just funny.

Now I just sit and ponder what will become of us and what will become of me? As I come to a decision on what to do with my future or just what to do in this realm? As of now, I still don’t have an answer.

Sure I’ve been looking for different alternatives, for different prospects, but they are always never so easy as it was with you and I . Things just clicked and I guess that is what I get with things that just click. They get clicked off just as easily.

Watching the sun go behind the mountain far ahead, I have no desire to look for an alternative. I have no desire to chase the dream that I hold dear in my heart. I just have no desire but to let things be and to get even more comfortable with this life that I am already living.

Come to think of it, I’m just tired of all these games that we all have to play to get what we want. Nothing is ever so simple. I guess that’s why we cherish it more when we have it in our grasp.

I’ll just chalk this one up to another misconnection that I had. No, that wouldn’t be fair. It was definitely a connection, but it wasn’t missed. It was just one of those that came too early or transpired too late. Given the situation, I think it just came too late. A year and a half late.

There’s just no use in pondering what I should have, because it’ll just make me miss it more and want it more. And there’s just no point in doing that to myself. No, no point at all. So I just sit as usual and just try not to think about it, but of course the more I try not to think about it, the more I think about it.

I resigned myself to the fact that it’s all about timing and I have no rhythm to keep sync with the passing time. Time just ticks by and by, on and on, and leaves me behind to forever catch up. Until the time I catch up with time, I just sit and tick away at my own speed.

This is the clearest I’ve seen in a long while. With the assistance of artificial tears, things are crystal. I see now what is before me. I see all obstacles in my way. I see what I must do. It’s never been clearer.

Things are not so bad as I keep telling everyone. They just aren’t so bad at all. I’m just free to do whatever it is that I want to do, no questions asked.

Billowy smoke blows out of a stack and slowly dissipates into the surrounding air. Like memories, it just fades away into the atmosphere, never to be relived again.

Calm and nonchalant about the whole thing. I’ve never felt this way before. Tears wanted to fall when things finally sunk in, but they never rolled. I don’t know if it is because I didn’t let them or if it just doesn’t deserve them. I can never figure it out and I never will for it is in the past and I need to focus on the here and now. I need to focus on the silent typing of the keys. I need to focus on my thoughts that I am jotting down now.

Thinking about things that sting me the most, I just don’t understand why you make the decisions you do. I have no idea what it is that goes through you mind or I have no idea what it is that you think of me.

I tried and asked to get some things from you, but you give it away so freely to a stranger. Maybe it’s because you see the stranger as cute and you do not see the same in me. I could only assume, but no matter, things are done and over with anyway. No point in asking, no point in wondering, no point in wanting it.

I stare out into the darkening city and see the lights grow in luminosity guiding the way for those who cannot see. It brings forth hope to the bleak mysterious dark future that lies ahead. But shouldn’t we all have faith in the mysteries that are solved with each passing second? I think we should.

As the song goes, Goodbye to You, but there is nothing to hold on to. There is nothing to hold on to at all. All will go down to the memories of the dissipating smoke that I am so familiar with. There’s just nothing there anymore, nothing left to hold on to. Nothing.

Any chemistry that was between us were false reactions that turns lead into fools gold…just coloring on the outside. There’s no alchemy between us, nothing changed. You are you and I am I.

With more time, the orange haze that lights the distant horizon will slowly fade into the dark night like the flames that we shared together. They will be suffocated by the impossibility that is us and will die where it lies.

I don’t know what kind of fate that my palm has destined me to live, but I wonder if it will transpire the way that it was told to me. I’ve been fooled by these “magic” words many times now and sometimes I just have to decide when to stop listening to them.

Gone gone and away as the Earth turns more and more away from the sun, blanketing us with the darkness that the night is so accustomed too. Turn turn turn.

In a few moments I will be alone like I usually am. No one will be here on this bridge but me and it will be a closing on another chapter of my life. Another chapter titled by the latest connection. It will be forever finished in a book that doesn’t allow you to flip back and reread what happened. Will this book ever end?

Alone.

Like The Grapes of Wrath, following the last chapter will be a chapter that is outside the main storyline. It will be about the mundane life that everyone lives, nothing spectacular, nothing special. It’ll just be a chapter describing how someone like me lives and how I go about my day. When will it end? Who knows. Maybe until the next connection, or it may never end at all. That’s the thing about these kind of books.

These words will do me justice for the things that I must say. There is no need for private words that usually haunt this empty space. Not tonight, and not about this. Reading this whenever in a time that has not come, I believe I can make out what it is about.

I sit here on this bridge, no so alone ever since the end of Spring, just wondering, searching for words that usually come easy at times like these. I just think and rack my brain on the current project that I’m writing, not caring that it’ll suck and not wanting it to suck all at the same time. I’m just sitting here searching for words, thinking of things that may or may not be relevant to the task at hand.

I just sit here and ponder as the five boys head over to Strawberry Fields Forever. I sit and watch the world down below passing by like they do every night. I sit here and watch the lovely foot traffic that passes me by as I listen to the sweet melodies of Strawberry Fields.

I wonder how they see me? How do they see me, just sitting here all alone, void of any contact, not wanting any, typing away at a computer as they just shut the large doors behind me, closing the Nordstroms? How do they see me?

Often times I imagine being somewhere else other than where I am looking at myself and trying to figure out the angle and the perspective I am as an outsider. I often times put myself in a child’s perspective, looking at me, looking at them, and just wonder how do they see me.

Do they see me as me and nothing else, with no baggage with any troubles. Do I seem tall to them, unlike the short perspective I have of things. I imagine looking up at myself, straining to see who this towering man before me is.

How do they see me? How does other’s see me? How does the girl next door see me?

She said she would tell me if I’m ugly. She said she would tell me that she doesn’t find anything attractive about me. So she says. Maybe she does see me as the cute charming neighbor that I present to her. Albeit a little moody and strange, but there is an attraction towards me. Whether it is a small attraction or a large one, it’s an attraction nonetheless.

I sit here putting myself in her shoes, pondering the things to come, trying to think the way she thinks and I have no clue as to what is to come.

I told her I was over her as I have written here, and for a time that was true. I was cold and uncaring. I was distant and unfamiliar. She gave me her plea to become normal again, but what use would that do? It’ll just bring me back to where I am now. Just wondering.

Thinking about a discussion I have a couple years ago about harassment, it just seems funny how it isn’t harassment if you find the person attractive. The things I say and the things I do is definitely harassment and inappropriate. Yet, she doesn’t feel harassed. Another person did the same and she feels disgusted and harassed. I find that funny.

Sexual tension is what I called it. It’s what she has with that other guy. She tingles with goosebumps as she considers the creepy thoughts of what I said. Ewwww is her response. I find that funny.

Pushing buttons is what I do best. I play her hot and cold, normal and weird, not letting up on the charm I ooze. I could tell that she appreciates it as it puts a smile on her face. I could tell that she enjoys my presence on a normal day. The looks, the glances, the touches here and there that we both share. I know how to push her buttons and she knows how to push mine.

That’s always how things start. That’s always how things go. These are just games that we all play, especially when things are just starting out. Just games for pleasure and games to pass the time in between. I just sit and ponder, wonder, what it is that she thinks?

I have words and some inkling as to how she thinks, but I don’t have access to those words. No, not at the moment. What is it that I am to do to rectify the situation that I’m in? Should I sit as I always do or should I cut it like I tried to do before? I’m at the juncture of inaction in a time of action as I have always been familiar with. What is there to do besides just sitting and wasting before a new neighbor comes along?

Near the end we sat quietly for we were both busy in our own lives. We were separate from each other like we usually are, yet for some reason others thought we were fighting. It’s been a while since our last one. It’s been a while.

With this one, I’m not afraid to say the things that are in my mind. With this one, I’m not afraid to joke and be crude and nasty as she would say. With this one, I’m just not afraid. With this one….

The grass is always greener on the other side goes the band with that guy’s name from that album that is invisible; what side are they talking about?

The connection with the empty void around me, with the radio frequency waves that zoom to and fro, are always breaking at the last minute. It prevents me from downloading the words that I need to get access to. It prevents me to get the words that I want to get.

She never meant to hurt me. She never meant to disappoint me. She’s only doing the things she knows how to make me change. Sometimes it’ll work, and others, it’s a waste of time.

Again, Where will we be without wishful thinking goes the song that blares mellowly in my head. Where exactly will we be? I never thought that I would have been so hopeful in my thinking, but I have always been so wishful.

Slowly, minute by minute, second by second, the termination line covers us in the darkness that we are all familiar with. Slowly it becomes night and the stars with their light in history will become visible to us once more.

Wishful thinking has gotten me far in this life that is so attuned to the dark. Again, Where will we be without wishful thinking?

Looking back in the Time of Your Life, I take the pictures that are in my head, flipping through the memories, just thinking to myself; I’m having the time of my life right now. It was worth all the while as Billy Joe sings to us in his normal vocal stylings. There’s no need to ask me, for I am having the time of my life.

The neons and the orange, red, yellow glows grows brighter and brighter as the light outside dims.

Staring at her ass is what the guy is not doing as I am doing it for him. In a little white bikini right in front of him, she stands. Finally he got the hang of doing nothing. Sleeping on the beach is doing nothing all right. Nothing at all.

I stare at the familiar sign oh so far away that lets me know the time and temperature. It just brings back memories that are better left forgotten. Not all the memories were bad there, but there were some bad ones that are better left alone.

The “running of the rack of clothes” here in the Westside Pavilion is gracing my presence. As I watch this eye candy running down the racks of clothing, it’s kind of hard not to get distracted. Not just with the eye candy, but also with the noise that the stampede brings.

The newest fashion of tank tops and ladies wear, lingerie (or linger’ry) as I would like to say. Scarves, pants, jackets, denim, and everything else. It’s a store full going down this bridge. A store full of fashion.

The noise scares away the only two left here on this bridge. A couple doing their work, whatever it is. Students at the local college, studying something that I could care less about, I’m sure. Is that all? Is that it?

Here I am again, alone on this bridge. Alone at last; finally alone.

I’ve been told again that a connection have been severed again. Again, people are no longer together. I was told to start a new connection. That was a long time ago. We are two separate wires with different plugs that just don

Here I am. It’s been a while, but here I am. I’m at home. I’m at home.

It feels so strange to type that. I’m at home. In actuality, I’m not at home. Well, technically I’m at the neighborhood Tully’s in Federal Way, Washington, but I’m home. My sweet mother and brother now lives in Federal Way. So, I guess this is my home away from home. My second home in another state. Federal Way, Washington. And, I just have to say, I love it.

It’s a large, beautiful house. BEAUTIFUL! I want a house to call my own, but unfortunately, I cannot afford one down in the City of Angels. It seems you need to be a Saint to get one or be filthy rich. I’m neither.

Being back up here, I’m loving it already. The scenery, the water, the green. Did I mention the GREEN. The weather has been lovely these past few days. Clear and hot. It’s a beautiful state. A magnificent state. It’s my home away from home.

I haven’t thought about it in a while. It’s been since early 2003 that I thought about moving back here. Back to Washington. Ever since my father passed away, I pushed that thought away from my mind and never thought about it again. Coming back didn’t bring those thoughts back, no. I’ll just let it lay where they lay for now. Besides, it isn’t like it is a long flight back home. It’s not. Just a mere two-and-a-half hours away. Not a long flight at all. So I guess I could comeback whenever I have the time and whenever I feel homesick. I might make it back for the holidays after all. Maybe.

I’ve been mostly chilling with family ever since I’ve gotten back. This is my first time venturing out on my own since I’ve gotten back. This here, is my first alone time. Sitting here in the morning of the anniversary of America’s Independence…this is my first time on my own. It’s great.

It’s the 4th today, so that means that there’s going to be a BBQ today. It’ll be great. A large family get together of catching up and laughing and joking. It’ll be like old times. Unfortunately, not all family is here, but that is all right. That is quite all right. I think I got enough to deal with for now.

There just seems like a whole different vibe up here…especially with family. Maybe it’s just me and my refusal to grow up…or should I say the inability to grow up, but there’s just this vibe up here. I’m not going to lie and say that Washington doesn’t have that grow up and settle down vibe, it does…but I am feeling it more and more as the days progress. Everyone is looking for houses, everyone is looking to settle down. maybe it just comes with age and I’m one of the youngest in my generation. Or maybe everyone else seems to have things figured out, so they don’t need to go on their own little soul search. Maybe……

Am I ready to settle down? Maybe. I don’t think I’ll mind. It’s more about finding someone, and I haven’t even been looking. Not at all. Though family’s been asking and friends been pushing me to go out and meet these quote unquote ladies…I just haven’t. I don’t know what it is that I’m afraid of…actually, that’s a lie. I do know what it is that I’m afraid of. I guess for me, I just don’t know what to expect if I do delve into a relationship. I could imagine what it would be…times of sunshine and happiness and others of frustrations and just plain not understanding. I guess deep down, it also is that I might lose my independence. That innate fear of losing it.

I just have this image of being tied down and doing everything together…and in a sense, that is great, but also, coming from a person who wanted to be out on his own since he was 16…kind of hard to just throw all that away. Plus that I have no game.

No, in all seriousness, I am pretty much a loner. I know no one likes to hear the demented glorifications of being a loner…but it’s just nice. I do most things on my own. I write, I go shopping, hiking (whenever I get a chance), photography…etc, I’m just a loner. I just don’t know how to interact and socialize with people. Not at all. I do better being alone. Maybe when time comes for me to settle down and be with someone, maybe then things will change. Hopefully.

I still remember one of my fondest memories. It was during the summer between my Freshman and Sophomore year of college. I got a cashier job at Bartell Drugs and it was just me alone in the apartment throughout the summer, working and coming home. It was fantastic. I loved it. Though I didn’t go out and socialize, but I just loved that feeling of being on my own, paying my own bills, just taking care of my self. It was my frist taste to independence, away from my parents’ watchful eyes.

Sometimes there’ll be flashes of me cooking dinner, me working, flirting with the girls at work….it was a great time for me. It was a time no different than what they are now, but the only thing that has changed is that I’m socializing more…and I guess that’s a good thing, a natural progress in my life I suppose.

The summer at The Zoo Store is also a fantastic one. Though I wasn’t alone in Seattle that summer…my brother was also there….but it was fantastic none the less. Working, paying my own bills, and just socializing and flirting with the girls at work like always. It was just a great time.

I know that I’m a fickle person. Very fickle, and I usually get bored with things very quickly, hence focusing on a particular script or story is a chore to me…never finishing. I just wonder when I will be bored with my existence now and need to find a new outlet, a new lifestyle. Maybe then, I will be serious of finding someone…but again, why should I need to find someone. Shouldn’t things just happen? I think I’ll just stick to that philosophy, just let things happen. I think I’ve been good at it for the past 26 years…why force it?

It’s not like I haven’t been trying…albeit only half-assed, but I’m trying. I don’t know…I’ve been searching the online ads, so on and so forth. If a ad strikes my fancy, I would reply..but there are no answers. I guess my writing just isn’t as savvy as I think it is. Darn…

“Don’t take things personally.” Isela lent me a book a couple of months ago, and one of its motto is “Don’t take things personally.” I’ve getting better at that…just let things slide off of my shoulders and try not to make “assumptions”. Another one of the books mottos. Just don’t make assumptions. If you want to clear things up, ask questions.

I’m at a point in my life where I lost any strong feelings for her. It’s gone. I’ve moved on, as I should. That is something that would not last, and that is something that I shouldn’t be wishing for. She has something marvelous going for her. She has something that she truly deserve and she’s not looking for anything else. Sure we have great chemistry, flirt a lot and have different viewpoints in life. She doesn’t understand me, and I understand her just a tad. It makes for great fun, but all in all…it’s over. Overall, that is that.

I think that’s why I’ve been in such a chipper mood for the past couple of weeks or maybe a month and a half. After I made that decision not to flirt with her as much, not to touch her, and just to keep our relationships just as “friends”. I think that’s when things changed for me. It has to be that way. She knows how I feel about her, and that should be all I can do right now. The rest is up to here if she so decides.

I think also the running helped me get back to being in a better mood…exerting energy and whatnot. I guess. Also, the sleeping earlier. I’m not as grouchy at work anymore to the relief of my coworkers. But I’m sure that when Wednesday rolls around, no one would want me to be there. I’ll be tired and grumpy. I’ll probably kill someone. I might just put money on that one.

I’m not going to lie and say that my life is all roses and sunshine right now. It’s far from perfect and it will never be. Perfection doesn’t exist. But I do have to say that things are great right now. Absolutely fantabulous. Just Fantabulous.

So I’m home away from home, writing my life away, writing my morning away. Just watching the cars roll by, watching the people get their drug of choice. The daily injections rushing through their veins, my veins, increasing the heartbeat, stimulating the body, the mind…giving a jolt of sweet euphoria. Just shooting up like any other day.

What does it mean to be free? Is anyone ever free with everything that we’ve experience in life? Death, desire, lust, mysteries, fate, destiny, free will. How can we all be free and not at the same time?

It doesn’t make sense for the rambler that things are just is without no rhyme or reason. There has to be a reason for things that happen, connections that are made, friends that are lost. There has to be a reason for these things. If not, then they are just things. They just is, existing on their own with no connection to anything or anyone. They are coincidences in our little lives.

As I sit up here typing away in my usual spot, in my typical verse, I wonder to the drowned out thoughts in my head. What is life? How do you live life?

Life is something that one just experience. Life is just something that is lived by the individual. Life is life. There is nothing about it and nothing around it. It just is.

Fond tickling of the parts around me, fond ticklings of the arm, the soft skin, the smooth cool digits, the dooey eyes and the beautiful face. Fond tickling things are.

I sit and I sit, looking out wondering, lusting at the things that people have and I have not. I look around shaking with the bridge that I am on. Is it another earthquake or the traffic and the wind that is blowing oh so fiercely?.

If it is the big one that ends my life, then this little diddy will never be read by any wandering eyes.

Traffic lines up in the claustrophobic tight streets of Westwood Blvd. Traffic lines up waiting to go somewhere. Traffic is what holds us up.

What is the traffic that we deal with in our normal daily life? Our neighbors, our friends, our fears, our confidence and self esteem. They stack up because they have no where to go, no signs that give them permission to be release. Nothing. They just build up and build up and build up, waiting for that initial release to free itself from this stagnation.

Once given the sign, they flow freely and go wherever it is that they need to go. To our loved ones, to our heart. They go everywhere and nowhere. They just go and flow like they are scraps of confetti blowing in the wind. They flow and flow.

I flow and flow everywhere I go, for my life is free flowing. It goes wherever my little feet and my heart takes me. Sometimes it’s daring, taking chances with that particular someone. Sometimes it’s shy, staying away from people that might intimidate him. Sometimes it just doesn’t care and does whatever it is that it feels like doing. That is how things are now. It just doesn’t care.

My life goes and goes, never ending until it ends. My life goes and goes, never ending until there is a stop. My life goes and goes. After it builds up its momentum, it is hard to stop it unless a tragic force hits it with fury. It never stops.

Stagnation is a place that I’ve been to and it’s a place that I do not want to go back. It is my hell in a place of hell. It is the worst part of life. The moss has been thrown off of this tumbling sand pebble that built up into a giant bulder. My life tumbles and tumbles free willingly down this majestic mountain road that many have been on and traversed.

Now it is my turn to have a little go on this mountain round. Now it is my turn to roll with the punches, fly with the birds, flow with the streams. Now it is my turn to face my fears and put them into submission as I take chance after chance after chance in the chance game of life.

Whatever comes, no one knows. Whatever that is before us is a mystery to all.

I got a crush on this little new found glory that clouds my mind. This little new lust that causes me to dream dreams I’ve haven’t seen before. This new found joy of life that everyone notices. This joy of release.

Many have notice the change of giddiness and happy moments from the usual dark brooding moods that usually flow through my veins and through my skin. It is a new change in me, and it all has to do with an extra hour of sleep a night.

Sleep is my new found friend that I’m so familiar with. A long deep night’s sleep is the refresher that helps me face the day ahead. It is the extra juice that pushes the start button.

Sitting here on this little bridge, typing whatever it is that comes to mind is becoming tedious and rusty. It’s been a while since I’ve written anything, so out of my routine am I. Hopefully my outings of writing will increase as my laps will increase too. Hopefully, hopefully, hopefully.

New editions to the family will make its way to us soon. Boy and girl, girl or boy, boy or boy, girl or girl, are possibilities that come with life. They come and grow up and go like the rest of us all.

Sometimes they bring us smiles, other times, they bring us tears. Most of all, they bring us to us.

Walking across the street, walking across the road of life. Crossing the path, crossing the path. Crossing. We risk our lives to cross the path so we have a direction to intercut with the life that is before us.

We give ourselves power to do the things that we need to do, if we don’t we get assistance from those near and dear.

Still a little hard to say, what’s going on in this little head of mine. Lusting for things that I dream of and rejecting them all at the same time. The confusion that besets me slowly melts away to the self assured nature of who I am.

As night slowly creeps up on me, watching the glowy orbs criss cross against the roads, I sit and watch as the world is illuminated with life and lights. I watch the world fill with stars in the city of the stars, Los Angeles.

I have neighbors up here with me, so if the big one hits, I wouldn’t be alone in my fall to the broken streets below. I’ll be a part of the rubble and I have no qualms about that.

So come on courage, teach me to be shy because this new found “cockiness” is scaring the usual tame nature that is me.

Walking in platforms, there you go, lost in thought, talking to that lil’ someone beside you. You walk into my life and out like it was the front door to your house. No regard for the mysteries around you. No regard to life at all.

You go about your business, you go about your deeds. You come again and pass through the entry way again, not paying attention. You pass through and pass through.

Finally he got the hang of doing nothing says the billboard across the street. Such old news to a guy who does nothing perfectly well. I’m an old pro at the inactivities of life. Come join my hermitude of antisocialness. Come join me in this little game of being on one’s own. Come join me in the new found lust of life. Come join me.

Does this mean that I want to move away from my old ways of hermitude and bring forth new life to my veins? I find that hard to believe but the desire is strong and the desire is there to make one last connection.

I want a strong and free flowing connection to a new infatuation that turns into something more than just mere games. I want a connection that is wireless, and understands all the information that I need. I need a new connection.

 

Sitting at this new found place, watching the traffic drive by and typing my conversation with my computer screen to a recipient a thousand miles away, I just sit and wonder where things are now. Where are things?

Things are where they always have been; things haven’t changed much. I’m out writing my usual diatribes as always, and I’m out away from home, doing whatever it is that I’m doing. I’m not in a rush to go anywhere or to meet anyone. I’m just here.

Things have just gotten better for me, as many have been putting it. I’m not depressed anymore; I’m the chipper, happy go lucky guy. Well for the past three to four weeks as I’ve been told. That’s good for me too, so I’ve been told.

What has changed that I haven’t written about. Nothing much. I guess the things have just set in and I’m tired of my old ways. I’m tired of my angry ways. I’m just tired. I’m starting a new, starting a new trend in my life.

There’s just nothing that has changed much. Things are going as well as usual with that particular single mother at work. Things are going well at work. Things are going well in the social front. Not that much is happening, it’s just that I’m doing whatever it is I want to do. That to me is all that matters. That is all that matters.

Life goes on like always, life goes on like time. Life just goes and goes until it goes no more.

I’ve lost my will to write today. I lost my will to write now, as I am distracted by the sun and by the invisible conversation that I’m having. I lost my will to write, but I march on, typing the words you see now and inserting my two cents where it needs me. I just wait until it is time for me to leave as I’ve scoped out the place that I’ve came to scope out.

I’m just waiting for things to come to me like I’ve always done; but now, I’m more patient than I ever was. Now there’s just things that changed in me that will see an opportunity and act on it if it is appeasing.

I sit here typing away, looking at the people sweetening their already sweet coffee and teas.

Butter is what I smell in the air. Not the familiar aromatic smell of coffee beans, but butter. It’s the rich oozy kind that is in theatre popcorn. The “heart attack” inducing butter.

The place is louder than I thought it would be. The place will do, the place will do. I have found my place for this month; I have found my place for the next meeting. It is Tanner’s Coffee, which reminds me…

I’ve lost my will to write today. Maybe tonight, I’ll be better. Things will most likely flow better tonight. It’ll probably be my typical diddy of mindless rambling. Maybe, maybe not.

I haven’t written anything in a while. I haven’t written anything in the past four to five weeks. This is my first attempt. This is my first real entry in a long time. It’s not good.

It is now approaching the time when I will be meeting my little troupe. It is about that time and the place seems a little more crowded than when I first started to be here. It’s getting a little louder; it’s getting a little more uncomfortable. I guess I’ll have to see how things go here in the next two weeks, then I’ll find another place.

I’m always looking for new places. Looking for new little gems. I haven’t found another gem like my usual spot left. I don

Well, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything, whether work wise or journal wise, as you all can attest to. I’m at home right now with Six Feet Under on next to me, but I’m typing away. I was to start and go writing tonight, but I opted to stay home and watch some episodes. I was supposed to write tongiht, and continue on incorporating my two plays into one. I was to write tonight. So here I am tonight, writing.

I really don’t have much to write about, so I think I’ll share a little something that I think I wrote.

Here’s a funny story. A couple of months ago, while going through some files on my computer, I came across this poem. Now here’s the funny thing, I don’t remember writing the poem. I found the poem on my laptop, in my poems folder. It is titled and formatted.

Now, I never format my poems and i rarely ever title my poems. And most of all, I don’t remember writing it. I hesitate to call this poem mine because when I read it, it is actually really good. I don’t write good poems. I write bad poems well, so imagine my surprise when I found this one. I’ve contacted all I knew that wrote poems and asked if the poem was their’s…It wasn’t, so I guess this poem is mine. I will call this poem mine. Here it is.

LOVE IS A DIM AND FADING LIGHT

I see you on a daily basis
Watching you watching me
Stealing shy glances that we both don’t see

You talk to me and build me up
I construe your attention as affection
Leaving me drunk with your essence

I join a group to confess my sins
It clears the soul and brings realization
I’m a puppet entangled with your strings

Now knowing what I know about love
I rebuild my heart with ice and iron
It keeps me steely cold from your glances

I keep to myself not talking to you
Hoping that these feelings will fade away
It doesn’t because my heart melts for you

I mend my heart again trying to find a way
But there is no way when it comes to love and lust
So I go through the cycle with you day after day

2004-08-14

There it is. Again, the peom follows the same themes or unrequited love that I usually write about in my poems, but again, I don’t ever remember writing it. But, again, here, I call this poem mine.