Channeled [Opinions] -_-

This is a rather long one.

Events of the last 48 hours have taught me that I have been going about this wrong. That my inability to stifle this opinionated trap is wearing thin on me, as well as some people around me. There was a time in the good old days when people used to get over heartaches without having the world read it as part of the their daily news fix. There was a time when people just cried silently in their bedrooms, to themselves and not to people running random Google searches.

It's time I learn to do this the old fashioned way, so I am putting this blog on permanent vacation.

I will still write every bleeding word somewhere of course, such is my bane and the way I have chosen to deal with it. I may perhaps even write on a Blogger compose tab, but I won't be publishing anything. Maybe one day when the sunshine radiates again, I could find the resolute to publish everything I have written in hiding during this period. But it must feel absolutely good to every party involved.

This blog will remain up kept however, in that the banners will change frequently-ish. And I may post a song up for download here and there, so check back whenever you can. Why these half-handed gestures? I don't think I can totally abandon it. Much has happened over these pages, from my existence's summits to some of its worst tragedies. I intend to to see to it, even though it will be a little bed-ridden from now.

I want to take this time to thank the 39 people who read this blog frequently. I have no idea who you are, but thanks for the soapbox you've given me. It's hold up pretty well up until recently. Perhaps you can say hi in the comments box when this post is published. But if you're shy then perhaps you can not as well.

What happens now? I begin on my book. I found my topic browsing through biscuits at the supermarket today. No it won't be about the delicate relationship between butter and sugar, but it's going to be my two cents to the world, to give something back in return for the space I've taken in it. Then again maybe it's just a cent. But perhaps those that chance upon it one day when it is completed can find a decent paragraph to feast on that they won't cringe in absolute mortification.

I have much to mull over. There are many regrets to be resolved. There are many wrong things I have said that I need to make right. There are many people I have hurt that I need to apologize to. There are goals I have set, that I need to start coming good on. There is a God that I have abandoned, that I need to start learning to get to know again.

I hurt more than I've ever hurt before. I am not going to kid myself into thinking that this is just some figment of my lofty imagination. The pain is very real, and of course, sickeningly familiar. So I am giving myself some time to grieve. Why? Because we need to mourn significant loses properly. To have a respectable funeral for it before we begin our existences anew. I dare not say when I can do that with absolute certainty but what is certain is that I am going to at least work towards it. And if the chips fall and I am asked to be the scapegoat for this little portion of existence I am responsible for, then so be it. At the very least this serial brooder took three seconds off his lazy boy to get something done.

And maybe one day I may have more opinions to channel. Opinions that do not involve another. Then perhaps that will be the day when I drag this sucker back from the tropical punches and back to the weekly grind.

But for now, it's goodbye and goodnight.

May the Lord grant thee all the wishes of your heart, the answers to the questions on your minds and the ability to properly maintain everything in good order.

Oh, and Merry Christmas.

Labels: Events, Existential

I can't breathe, can barely sleep.

I toss and turn on my colorful sheets, trying to reinvent myself in its sparkling colors, to little avail. I try to tire myself by thinking, but the more I think, the more awake I get. Anguish is like fuel for our jaded minds.

And you can rehearse for this moment. Role-playing it and testing your response every time to see if it improves. Train your weathered emotional resolutes to combat this infirmity. But I realize now that nothing can prepare you for that moment, nothing. And after it has happened, it washes over you like an endless tide of heart aching misery. You feel the blood rush from your head and into your hands, but you can't feel anything. Just a nagging numbness, emptiness. You are thinking but your thoughts are like colored patches falling into each other, cascading over one another like an endless chaos of tattered ideas. You think much, but you're thinking nothing. Just a sense that things from this day forth will never ever be the same again, no matter how hard you try and no matter who tries with you. Life has taken a universal U-turn and left us here to bleed.

I am now very afraid to exist. I no longer have the strength to put up hearty resolutes. My insides have caved in, so like an addict that has exhausted all concealed veins to inject into, my hurt is spilling out into the judgmental open for everyone to see. I feel much shame for the fact that I cannot deal with this sensibly and rationally, like an adult, like a man. To be the objective head in a time of emotional upheaval. Instead I contribute much to this terrible campaign. I have done myself little service in the last five-hours and yet, there is a strong notion that I need to do something, even if it means making it worst.

Such is my story. I call it my story, because I have played this one out before. The second edition's just gone to print. I have said these same words, and like the first time, they are said to no avail. And like the first time, this one has no happy ending for me. Maybe I am really destined to never be fully happy. To only experience happiness in short thirty second trailers. To only be the third party narrating the happiness of others, while never fully comprehending it for myself.

I am sick of people showering me with cosmetic compliments. I don't want to be that 'great guy', that 'the bitch doesn't deserve' anymore. People have said that I am able to offer a kind of love that deserves something special in reciprocation. Yet, I feel it's a leprosy to me. If no one is ever worthy of this love then what use is there in having the ability to give it? I hate it, and I despise it with whatever soul I have left. I will this day lock it in a box under my bed. Never to offer it to anyone less they see it fit to use as an excuse to once again walk out that door. I will never dare to love this sincerely anymore.

If I were a doctor, I would diagnose myself as having a panic attack. The only thing is, this panic is wrought from having to exist. To wake up in a few hours, brush my teeth, put on my Monday's best and endure the excruciating ride to work and a lengthy meeting with the boss over lunch. I panic, greatly, from having to exist in this space I have grown so comfortable in.

To stop it would be to cease to be.

Labels: Existential

Labels: Existential

I am done with moping on this blog.

That doesn't mean the hurting have stopped and I transfigured into the flesh epitome of Mr. Happy. Rather bloody far from that.

But it does mean that I will no longer air my emotional underwears out on this rather public channel. At least not explicitly. No real reason other than the notion that I perhaps need to start finding another voice again.

Playing this sod was rather fun, in a supremely un-fun way. But if there's anything I learned in this existence it is that whatever we enjoy a lot, we must also learn to exist without them as well.

So it's goodbye now Mr. Sad. May you never have to return again.

Well, at least for awhile.

Labels: Existential

I am starting this personal project. I don't expect this project to take too long.

Objective

The objective of the project is for me to fade off the consciousness of everyone around me.

Reason

I am tired of being the 'why not' guy. The one where people don't mind hanging out with. I am tired of having to beg and grovel for acceptance when others have the option of choosing, dumping and choosing again. I am sick and tired of having to convince people of anything. For once, I would like to be convinced. For once, I wouldn't mind not being the rubber mat that you push your accelerator pedal into.

Methadology

The first phase of the project would involve me not talking to anyone unless spoken to. The methadology is not complicated. I shall not engage anyone in conversation unless it's necessary to facilitate work or other formal engagements. Basically the first word of the day between me and another party would not come from me.

Conclusion

Seeing the way things have progressed in my existence, this is likely to severely accelerate the process of me fading off the consciousness of anyone that doesn't need me for something.

Labels: Existential

I hate to be misunderstood.

Listeners are a rare breed these days. Someone who will take the four seconds needed to properly understand what you have to say. Everyone just wants to talk, say their idiotic three cents worth even when it is rather obvious that thousands have said it before them in the last hour. Everyone wants to pretend like they've just discovered the secret to foaming beer, to be a philosopher of yacks.

I hate to be misunderstood because I put much effort into ensuring that I don't.

So when someone blatantly chooses not to listen, and turn themselves into the wrong junction because they want to think that is the case, I mark another tick under the category Humanity = Shit. I grow increasingly tired of having to entertain people. As I turn on the darker side of the big 3-0, I have come to realize that I have little time and patience for making hypocritical small talk, and that no one can make me do something I don't want to. The combination may be lethal socially, but it is helping me come to terms that for everyone that tries to pull an inconsiderate stunt, I have every right to hate them with every fibre of my gut.

If we can't even decently do the simple administrations of our existence, what hope would we have of making a real discovery?

Labels: Existential

This weekend, it ends.

This is the weekend where I decided to stop pretending that there isn't a world outside the four wooden frames of my room window. For awhile now I have been religiously peering inwards, slowly constructing my own little dark world mortar by mortar and happily getting lost in its barren and wasted skylines.

But this weekend I decided that it's time to pull the blankets down and take in some sunlight for a change.

A cleaner room and an appreciative aunt is the recipients of this uncharacteristic act of philanthropy. It's nice to be a part of a larger and grander scheme again. For awhile now I have had to content with narrow walls and yellow lights. It's nice to have some emotional elbow space again.

So is this going to be a good run then? Hardly my friends. There's no telling if I will go off and lose 4-0 to some conference team the week after. One can't presume to plan these things meticulously.

Because if there's one thing I learned through my existence is that planning your existence only increases the avenues by which you can fail in. And I am certainly the kind of guy that would prefer to shoot myself than to have someone slowly torture me to death. Denny Crane, would've had it no other way, nor would I it would seem.

It's much smarter to manage it from the bottom up.

Labels: Existential

I don't feel like embarking on another long adventure.

Yes, I do have a taste for traveling as much as the person with the knapsack next to me. But yet, there is a strong epiphany that I should not get up too quickly on another Greyhound just yet.

Why this is so, I don't know.

Perhaps it's because I just ended a long and winding adventure. And the thought of having to start another one from bottom up is frankly far too arduous for me to comprehend. I don't think I am quite ready for another butt-busting journey.

However, I don't mind a fun-filled day trip though. Something to take my mind off the banalities. A short trip to somewhere unfamiliar so that I can feel excited about my existence again. And yet, I am not closing myself to the possibility that day trip can endear itself so much to me that I decide to build my hut here and start a new adventure from here.

I just don't want to purposefully embark on another one of those clandestine long journeys to, often nowhere, as I have found out.

The thought of that if just about good enough to frighten me off travelling altogether.

Labels: Existential