I'm going to simply end this blog based on it's lack of content and my inability to even remember how to spell thelastgoodbye in french.
Friday, December 12, 2008
It's been two years.
Two years since I've felt that surge of hopelessness.
Two years since my tear-ducts made use for itself.
I want this, I need this.
Four years ago, during summer...
I recall a dying relationship.
A relationship that should've ended sooner.
Faults at myself. At-
my inability to take things for it's face value
my inability to trust
It's something I've come to terms with, what I've been trying to cope with, faults that I've become better at handling myself.
Circa 18 months in. I was blinded. I was in love....I was blinded.
one summer night, forgotten time, six words.
"I don't love you any more."
That night, I was left with blurry details of my desperate pleas, a hole in the wall,
and a forgotten practiced ritual as far as I can recall.
I wept myself to sleep. Practically soaked the pillow.
That relationship continued for two more months, till September. 26th of that year. A day before my birthday.
By then, I had seen it coming.
I was nevertheless angry, nevertheless upset, nevertheless heartbroken.
Took me almost a year to recuperate.
Two months in the year spent with me rejecting someone who seemed obsessed about me,
A year with fruitless crushes,
Last month spent being in a love triangle, having to choose two girls at the end of the year.
A year of being lost and incomplete.
Nevertheless, I've recovered, but not fully.
No longer do I remember how to cry,
No longer do I remember the warmth that my tears bring.
Stitched but scarred, my heart was able to feel again.
I did say two years ago.
Fast forward one year, not because it was unimportant, but because it doesn't relate.
A banquet, a joyous celebration.
An innocent passing by,
countless silent waves and hellos passed across the room.
The end of the night, nothing was exchanged. Basic patterns tend to repeat themselves.
Self conscious. doubt. uncertainty. Shyness.
It was interesting how it ended up the way it did, internet is a funny thing.
A relationship had bloomed from it because of the not so innocent hellos and waves, and me taking chances by saying something.
Six months of NJTransit every other week.
Six months of hiding and lying to her parents.
New Me; Different problems.
Cold. Indifferent. No holds barred. Blunt. Invisible wall.
It was possibly December. I was not heart-broken.
It was not the pain of a break up.
It was not something caused by her.
It was me.
The realization of a failure on my part was too much to bear.
In a phone conversation. I forgot what, just angry words.
My voice cracked.
I simply said "I'm going."
And I've spent three minutes after that tearing.
I want to let it be known that. It has been two years.
And this current problem does involve the opposite sex, however...it plays a very minor role.
It is all the problems in the past two years that has crept up to me.
I feel lost. I am without direction. Academically, especially.
It bewilders me how many choices I have, and how little time I truly have to decide on it.
I wish to do medical. However, I am no saint. Nor do I believe I have the patience to be one.
I wish to do Marketing. However I am unsure of the stability of it's steps.
The only thing I am certain of.
I also felt that I was not welcomed.
I felt that there were too many in and outs of people in my life.
I felt easily replaceable.
I feel unneeded and unnecessary.
I wish to do something. I wish to be someone. I wish to not stand still.
I wish to force a new perspective into my life.
With me being lost, I lose track. I skip classes. I wish not to do work.
Bouts of depression arises.
And then I fell for someone I met.
I felt an instant connection (on my part).
I felt that spark.
I felt my wall magically crumbled.
And I slipped.
All a miscalculation, it seemed.
The typical male error.
Friendliness mistaken for interest.
Someone I cannot have. Ever.
It all brings down to this.
My bottle is full. But it has not overflown.
My cobwebbed tear-ducted gave me the slight satisfaction yet unsatisfactory results of two tears as I try to force those tears tonight.
Something provoke me.
Someone destroy me.
Someone save me.
I need this. I long for this.
*P.S.- I'm not actually depressed. I'm just.....really down at the moment.*
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
I've told many of what my two current tattoos signify,
the crumbling star signifies my failed aspirations,
and my negative star signifies new aspirations.
To simplify it: beginning and the end. This didn't dawn to me at first, but the color green real
ly did make the negative shine personally, since green tends to mean rebirth.
However, I get a bit annoyed when people say "Is that a Captain America shield tattoo?"
And I've gotten that a few times already.
Listen, if it was the CA shield tat, I'm positive it would've had the America color Scheme, instead of three shades of green.
I've had a customer from Chase asking me that very question and I answered "no" before he even finished the question. Regardless of the "critiques" given about that tattoo, I love it. As I should.
I digress, I asked you guys to visit this post today because I need opinions on the next tattoo(s) I'm getting.
It is essentially the same design, with minor differences-
The placement of the tattoos will be on the back of my forearms, closer to the elbows than wrist. Planning to be about 3-4inches.
Here are the designs:
F-holes with treble and bass clef imbedded.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
There are moments, long moments when I honestly think too highly of myself,
whereas I throw myself back down from that throne with random moments.
I'm indecisive, this I've accepted. But I wish for a balance, something that can keep me from feeling too good or too badly of myself.
I want someone or something that can keep me on my feet rather than flowing freely or dragging away.
Will that ever be possible? I suppose that is something I too would have to contribute by letting my guard down and letting people get closer to me, first.
This mini post sure is redundant.
Monday, June 30, 2008
I was walking home from a night at Dave & Busters about 10 minutes ago. A Junior High School acquaintance moved to the block I live in about 5 years ago.
As I walked pass by his house, took a glimpse into his window, I saw your typical framed document of a diploma, or some sort of honors certificate.
Almost immediately as I saw that, I felt a form of resent towards this person;
not because he's achieved something I haven't, nor its because I'm in anyway envious of him (which I am not).
This resentment came from one of my most basic beliefs, that knowledge should not be achieved through formal education.
I agree that, such a certificate does indeed present a well credential in one's office, as a tattoo artist presents their favorite tats into their portfolio of their tattoo parlor.
but to post it in their own household? I think that's a bit too narcissistic.
I don't know, maybe I'm being a hypocrite. But I feel as though the certificates are a form of conformity that you've given your identity and worthiness on the sole basis of a piece of paper, though someone who has the same certificate who doesn't have the same level of eloquence and ability to perform at the quality of another.
All a bunch of mish mosh.
I suppose that's the reason why I choose to post my photographs on my wall rather than these certificates...but in a sense, my photographs are the equivalent to those certificates.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
One must consider the potential danger of the outside environment we encounter daily, even our repetitive routines.
My outside daily routine is as followed, walk to bus stop, take bus to train station, train from Brooklyn to Manhattan. Herald Square to Madison Square Garden. Stay inside bank till 6:30PM. Reverse the process to home.
Along the way, I can think of:
random robbery(bus, train, work)
shoot-outs (bus, train, work)
fire(bus, train, work)
Where would I be safe? Not home, neither. I live by Atlantic Ocean.
Brooklyn is pretty much flat. Not that high of a sea level.
I cannot swim. Not that it would matter.
My point is, no matter what, we are mortal. Memento Mori.
Alas, While I understand death must occur in every life force,
as I have gotten older, its appearance is occurring more often.
I've slowly grown afraid of it.
Whether it's myself, my friends, and my family,
I'm afraid of a random occurrence happening before natural causes.
Even then, I'd be in so much grief...
I honestly have no idea what I'm typing, I just read about a death of a friend of mine in Florida, and though I don't know the person who passed away, I have that sense of loss.....