last of the great love

Technically speaking it did not even qualify as a breakup. But the effects felt all the same to me. I never did quite find out how he felt after it. Angry maybe. Although now, fastforward three months later, how he feels holds little significance as compared to how he thinks.

I dealt with it not quite as if it were a breakup. I have never subscribed to retail therapy to remedy a broken heart. Although after a week, I came to recognize that I did not suffer from a broken heart but rather from something else I do not quite have the brains to label or understand. A complex cauldron of emotions brewed with uneven flames. Some parts stayed relatively stagnant while others bubbled to the brim. In the end, the prominent emotion that emerged victorious was anger. It was not all too difficult to nurture anger, with all that replays of the Taxi Scene in my head.

Unjust perhaps.

During the first few days when despair played an important role, I shopped irrationally, ate splurgingly, reinvented my style disapprovedly and finally marked the event permanently onto myself. Ironically, instead of getting an inking to tell me that it was high time to move on with my life, I chose a symbol that represents eternal recurrence; all this has happened before and all this will happen again. The end is the beginning is the end is the beginni.. well so on and so forth. Perhaps it will serve to remind myself that time indeed is circular and not linear. I move towards the end but in the same circle. I repeat that that I have shackled myself to. It may be in a different place, time or even people but these are unimportant factors. The most important aspect of my life is me myself and if that in essence remained the same so will my life. Well, in essence. This whole circular notion may sound eeriely too karmic and nirvanic but I have not the faith to stomach all that organized religious teachings. To me, this is about the physical realm of four dimensions, nothing to do with spirituality.

I digress. But I suppose the inking hurt way too much and I decided that I will snap out of this out of the norm behaviour. Perhaps the needle jolted some dormant synapses that in turn whipped my thoughts into cohesion and rationality.

Of course I was despaired. This was the closest thing to love that I have been holding on to all these years. Though, I knew with conviction that this feeling I harbored was not allowed to go anywhere, and so there was no pursuit. I made sure I did not do anything that could harm the friendship and I was certain that he has not a clue about it. I was fine with this arrangement; him not knowing and me silently holding a torch. I can not say for sure though if the love I felt was a friendship sort of love or otherwise. But what does it matter anyway? Love is love is love. Although I did nothing to pursue, the feeling must have manifested itself in other ways. I admit I was a little kinder to him compared to my other friends; maybe because of that flame I lit for him in my heart or maybe I could empathize with his shortcomings due to my own psychological experiences. Even so, this is not something I obsess about every waking moment of my life. In a way, it has been there so long that it has become part of the landscape; nothing I have to confront or deal with and I was alright with it just being there.

And one fine day I found out that he was not as clueless as I had thought or hoped.

We got into the Taxi; I sat on the left and him on the right. We talked for a while about trip that we have just returned from. Somehow, as the conversation progress, I began to develop a sick feeling in the gut. He was steering the conversation in a direction that I have no love for. With each passing moment his tone grew angrier and the situation grew tense. But I knew what he was getting at. Can you be a little more cruel to me? Like how you are to your best friends? was what he finally said. But what he meant was Can you stop having these feelings for me? And with that the dynamics we had came crashing down; the sudden implosion in the chest, the involuntary swelling of the tear glands, the conscious effort to repress the flow, the realisation that tomorrow I will wake up a different person.

What made it even more despairing was the way the scene played out; him lashing out at me with harsh tones. Then tension and silence hung thickly in the Taxi. We lost the words to say to each other. The Taxi did not moving fast enough and we were forced to deal with the situation. I could not bear to look at him and so I stared out of the Taxi. The gears and clockworks in my head went on overdrive. This dynamics worked perfectly with the assumption that he remains in the dark about the matters of my heart. I had been found out now. The delicate balance of the scales had been disrupted. So deep in my thoughts, coupled with the gushes of emotions devoiding and engorging in my chest, I had not realised that he was preparing the final blow. I turned to look at him and his next words stopped my racing thoughts on their tracks. With eyes empty of all human compassion but a glint of rage, he asked me coldly Hurts doesn't it?

For the next week, I had trouble sitting on the left side of a Taxi; just reminded me too much of the Taxi scene. I was determined to blog about it but I had trouble sorting my thoughts and putting them into sentences. And talking about it to friends was tricky because I did not want it to get back to him. I could not even dismiss him because, well, we are friends. I was thankful that I had to leave to country for a while and I made sure I did not come back for as long as I could. But that did not stop him from calling. He called often, because it did seem that I was the only one who could or would entertain his troubles. I had to force myself to deal with him. Not that anything has changed in terms of the dynamics, but now with certain facts out in the open, it is at best precarious.

What I was left wondering though is why he chose to confront me about it after all these years. Since he claimed that he had come to know about it almost half a decade ago and I had made sure I have not crossed any boundaries. Hell, he even admitted that I have never made him feel uncomfortable or made any advances. I did ask him, but he did not want to deal with it. I guess his mind was somewhere else... or everywhere else for that matter.

eternal recurrence

There is a concept that many people I know subscribe to. According to this concept, there is a clear distinction between friends and everyone else in the eligible pool. On top of that distinction, dynamics can only flow one way; from everyone else to friends and even when you cease being friends you are not allowed back into that pool of eligibility. Dating is only permitted with members of the eligible pool; dating friends is deemed incestuous.

Fine I guess. I can live with people living like that. As I too did live like that once upon a time. But people change; mostly superficially and they remain the same person inside, but sometimes our core can change too. I am sure mine did; this aspect of my core at least. After the end, I started realising that I never really knew all the people I dated, or when I did find out who they were in the end, I had to break their hearts, or have mine broken. From then on I decided that I want to do things differently. I want to know exactly what it is I am getting myself into. I want to be friends first before even considering to date.

The irony? Is that when I find someone I could get along with and decide to start dating, we would have been friends long enough for the other party to remove me from the pool of eligible everyone else into friends. Such is the fate I bear for choosing this path. But it is alright, I can accept that my beliefs are not shared by many. I can even resign to the fact that there is nothing that I can or should do when conflicting concepts occur.

For the other path is one I had threaded on time and again; dating strangers, hoping that the attraction will compensate for the fact that we had not got the slightest idea who the other person is, trying to love somone who we may not even like all that much.

All this has happened before, and all this will happen again.

Or will it?

autrefois

Right after my previous entry, I suddenly felt like I was back home and it has been a while. Or rather I suddenly felt. An emotional stirring of sort of how I used to be. That reminded me that I have not been feeling in a while. No I do not mean I have not felt tired, sleepy, physical pain, or stressed even. Those are physical and mental artifacts.

Granted that my earlier entry consisted mainly of rationalisations, I find the process to be emotionally fulfilling. I can not exactly say what it was I felt though. Maybe an ancient emotion whose name I have forgotten. It only lasted a moment. But it was a good moment.

Un bon moment autrefois.

happy birthday

If life is reluctant to shine its light on you, know that you can lay your hand on my shoulder and we shall continue to try and move forward. Until your eyes can see in the dark and realise that you don't have to stay where you are just because the path infront is not illuminated. Because we are built to be resilient and we can get used to darkness and still move forward.

I have often said one too many things in my life. Some, I wish I had not said because people have used them as weapons. Not that I can blame them entirely even. I can put myself in their shoes and perhaps understand where they are coming from. Why they could possibly feel so cheated or wronged by the things I have said. Though I do not agree with their views.

I suppose all my statements should come with a validity period. Actually, everything in life has a shelf life. So why is it that most people, sometimes myself included, feel that certain things or concepts should last til the end of time? Like friendships for example. For far too long we have thrown acronyms like BFF so frivolously and perhaps we have fooled ourselves into thinking that some things are as certain as the rising sun. Even the sun will cease to rise one day and the planets will go flying off their orbits.

Resorting to cliches, nothing is certain but death and taxes.

In the long term. At this moment, I am certain that I still need more food. I am certain I will smoke another cigarette before leaving work. I am certain that despite being at work now and not doing my work I will be commented for being efficient rather than lazy. I am certain there are dead things in the crypts and cloisters of my heart. But I do not know if I still need food two hours later. I do not know if I will get a promotion two months later. I do not know if I will still smoke two years later. I do not know if those dead things will resurrect themselves on my final days.

For now.

It is not that I do not mean the things I say. I mean every word I say, when I say them. With passion and conviction. For that moment. Does not make it any less true though just because it is not unchanging. People who think they reside in an unchanging world should do themselves a favour and get a reality check. So what happens is that people regard my expired but once true words as lies. They hold it against me and attempt to either get me to act my words or to admit that I never meant those words to begin with. But I can not! Because I did mean those words... but not anymore. Things happen and affect one another inexplicably because we live in a dynamic world.

Love. Now that's tricky. Because according to some, the very definition of that word includes a clause that says ever after. Is it not possible to love but only for the moment? Or is it because it is only for the moment that it cannot be love? So what is it called? Like? Even like only differs from love in terms of intensity, not time. I can very possibly like a person for a very long time. But I suppose I can not, by definition, love a person for a brief moment.

But I have.

the minor league

Sitting on my bed at this hour of the night, about 15 hours to my imminent departure, I am suddenly confronted by myriad emotions. All at once, it is beginning to dawn upon me that I am leaving this place for a while. Quite a while.

I have known of this for a month already but I kept pushing it to the corner of my mind; somewhat convinced that somewhere along the way it will get postponed or cancelled. And postponed it was a couple of times. I decided not to deal with something I cannot truly perceive as a certainty.

The story has changed though; people are expecting me to be there, flights have been confirmed, accommodation secured, bags somewhat packed. It is now without a doubt that by this time tomorrow, I shall no longer slumber on local soil.

I recognize and admit that I am feeling a little frightened with regards to that. Despite having want to work abroad my entire career, now face to face with it, I wonder where have all the thrill and excitement gone to. Why is it that all I feel now is anxiety? That somehow things will ultimately go wrong or I will end up more miserable than before.

I recently went on a vacation for several days. I enjoyed the experience, not entirely but enough to say that the vacation was a success. And even so, I had missed the comforts of my own home and also the companies I am used to having. I remember feeling glad to be back when the plane docked itself.

And now a few days later, I am off to another location and this time for a far longer period. Perhaps it is cumulative; coupling the effects of the vacation and now the new foreign work location. But it is a negativity that I need to deal with because I am choosing to accept this work assignment. Cold logic.

That aside and on a much larger scale, I am still frightened. I am scared that I might have grown my roots here too strongly. I am afraid of my complacency with my current living condition. I am a little frightened by the dependencies I have on people around me.

This is just 4 months, what happens when it is for good? Will I have the strength or courage to go through with it? Or will I be too far rooted, too comfortable and too dependent to budge?

truly i am a nice person :)

What is this about me being nice? People, some of them at least, seem to think that I am a nice and kind person. Mostly based on the fact that... hmm actually I do not know based on what fact.

Maybe because:-
1. I have once attempted to save a dog that was involved in a road accident. Admitted the dog into the animal hospital and tracked down the dog's owner. On the other hand, I have no qualms eating dog meat :D I know most of my friends are dog lovers (not because they are tasty) and will probably hate me for wanting to eat dog meat, but that is just who I am. People who really know me would probably assume that I would eat dog meat given the chance, even if I denied it.

2. I often offer to drive long distance on trips and holidays. But I do not do it out of any consideration for other people. I love driving long distance, except when I do not have enough sleep. But I generally enjoy long haul drives; driving at such high speeds, feeling the wind violently caress (slap?) my face, getting the impression that I am actually moving between two separate and vastly different locations. No, I do it for me; not for any of you.

To make matters worse, I sometimes have violent thoughts in my head. Thoughts spawned by the darkest pits of my heart. I would picture afflicting physical trauma on other people, so vivid that I could practically feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, and I would be clenching my teeth so hard. It is often the same scenario; the other person on the ground in a foetal position trying to avoid the impact, me standing overhead, focusing all my strength on my right leg before I repeatedly and violently kick the other person's torso. Good thing is that it is all in my head, else I would have gotten into trouble with the law.

And my mouth... shall we even go there? But I don't mean to be evil. Although the words that come out of my mouth are often diabolical but humourous. I do not really care to be evil to anyone. I just say it because it is amusing :D But just because I do not mean it does not mean it is not (evil).

Seriously, I do not see anything nice about me. But... if you guys insist... okayyyyyyy.

the magic is not in the make up

I met a few new people at a party recently. It was a themed party that required my virginal brush with a semi-professional make up artist. Although the party was not a drag, suffice to say that my image that night was painted with layers of femininity. Thankfully for you lot, for your own sake, no such sequel has been planned as yet.

Being the judgemental creatures that we are, those new acquaintances were already forming opinions in that short 6 hours spent together. Most of them were kind and positive impressions. She thought that I was so hot and he thought I was really good at video games and was the most straight looking guy that night. Gee, even with all that powder and colour on my face!

One might consider it a compliment I suppose; to be reckoned as hot and straight looking. But if I were to consider being straight looking a compliment, inversely, it means that I consider being gay looking an insult. I would then be guilty of internal homophobia.

Well, even without having to go into all that pseudo-philosophizing, being straight looking does not personally mean anything to me. But it got me thinking that maybe I ought to gay it up a little. Heterosexual females think I am hot. Heterosexual males think I am straight looking. Homosexual males... just do not see me. My sort of hotness seems to only appeal to heterosexual females. Actually, I do not even know how to describe my hotness. But it is definitely not the hunky dory, clean cut, tidy hair sort that is stereotypically hot to homosexual males.

Anyway, I shall stop this self-indulgent discussion about how hot I am. I do not think I will gay it up anytime soon though. The notion of needing to be hot to other homosexual males is currently irrelevent.