Dry throat tingling
I got out of bed, grabbed the keyboard and typed endlessly, trying to hold on to a single promise that I’ve made to myself. I usually know how to keep major life & death promises and when to discard the rest. The number of things that I’ve promised my family, God, and myself go way beyond reason. Rule #1: Set a reasonable target. I usually keep my word on things that matter to others. I’m a person who prefers to do a nice thing rather than pay a useless compliment. I don’t believe in words. Vowels do not make a difference. I never compliment. Surprisingly, I realized that I prefer apologizes over thank yous. Maybe that’s why I was never successful at relationships. I never said ‘I love you’; and it wasn’t because I’m a player or anything. I’d like to think that it’s because I never wanted to cross the line between getting to know one another until an official proposal and the otherwise. But then again a little voice inside my head keeps telling me that I never said it because I was too afraid of what’ll happen next. I’ve always been fine by myself. Why change it? I know that now I know why… but still. I am fine. A detail Nazi correlated within his own existence. Honesty is one of my ugly habits. I promised myself to complete my first screenplay by April 2007. I’m not even halfway there. I go into too many details until I completely lose it. I promised myself to learn how to forget, but the stack has piled up real high that I can’t see past it anymore. How can you live with a blank memory? It isn’t exactly a computer memory that you can actually reboot and start over. The ability to regenerate; reincarnation… Some philosopher once woke out of a dream and wondered whether he was actually dreaming of being a butterfly or whether he is actually the butterfly now asleep, dreaming of being a man. That’s cheap blow talking if you ask me. All things being highlighted in shiny yellow marker, I lost the ability to trust myself. Am I a guilt addict? Do I actually enjoy soaking in this very long session of self definition? A person’s darkest hour resembles the time spent with someone with the wrong intention. ‘What’s in it for me?’ is the right universal question, O Prince of From the words of an ex-prisoner who spent half his stretch in solitary confinement. ‘Better spend eternity in the hole with my demons than spend ten years with a cell mate whose sole passion is to rape me blind’. Got good news however. This should be the second last stage of my complete recovery. Why do we pull out old weed only to free space in order to grow new ones? Aren’t we all a bunch of ugly habits disguised in flesh and bones? The truth is sometimes it feels like walking under water. Everything’s got a cold shade of blue and all voices are dubbed to fit an audience that doesn’t give a damn. I am more and more losing interest in what others have to say. My problem is that I expect too much out of my surroundings. Being a perfectionist urges a person to look into details and flaws. You face them proudly and change them if the price tag reads ‘Reasonable’. I won’t blame you, ruler of my Oblivia. A man shouldn’t search for blame for what he grows in his own backyard. What do I want? All I want is a big wave to swift me out of the open water and teach how to surf against all odds. Shackle me up, old mate, for I am the cell that blocks you out from the rest of the world. The hat’s over the wall now and I’m rolling down my windshield.
At work, I set my own targets. I don’t care what my superiors think. I do what I say and I accomplish what I pursue. Off site, however… well, let’s just say that some things aren’t really that easy to measure against an invisible benchmark.
Yes. I do have trust issues. I make and let go of friends ‘round the clock. Discarding people is easy. It’s like seeking unsaid revenge against those who have left me melting behind.
Hush, hush. The clock is ticking and the people I’ve slain along the way are left guessing.
I shalt bore thee no more.
It’s very quiet down here; just me and my voices roaming around as free urchins of the blue.
I’ll embrace them, my skeletons, in hope that when my time is due they will leave me.
I dread what lurks underneath. I am certain, however, that I will be standing when the wind blows my prince’s tunes.
All-in
Bring it on.
it's cliche to say that some of your words felt like i wrote them... so i won't!! i will just keep my mouth shut and do that *applause*
Posted by insomniac | 9/24/2007 03:50:00 AM
Your posts always leave me with a sense of... I dont know what the word is.... Awe? I always have to read it a couple of times before I think of leaving you a reply...
& then all there is is admiration - I wish I can discuss things with you - but I cant... you leave no room for discussion - you leave me in admiration & that is all I can say... which is getting kinda boring...
RR, I love this post
It's like I know you
It's like I can touch you
It's brilliantly said...
Dont be bored Prince... all I have is admiration to the ugliness you pour on the screen... the reality that is not very flowery or appealing...
... It's actually quite disturbing.
Posted by Jade | 9/24/2007 11:53:00 AM
except for your God Damn music that always makes me have to put it on mute & then I cant hear what I was listening to - STOP THE MUSIC MAN!! IT'S PISSING ME OFF.
Let your words work their magic baby boy... not a melody that I havent choosen & wouldnt ever choose to enjoy.
Am writing a post about this.
Posted by Jade | 9/24/2007 11:56:00 AM
haha @ jade's second comment :)
i mute too... sometimes i play "you don't know me"
jade, let him play his music... it is his blog after all... we should learn how to enjoy the posts while muting the sound :))
no offence RR, still love reading ur blog
Posted by insomniac | 9/24/2007 12:14:00 PM
Ha ha @Jade's 2nd comment too.
You guys always make my day. :)
Cheers...
PS
Here's a little secret.. I mute too :P
Posted by Яαgιи Яαvєи | 9/24/2007 05:47:00 PM
"Honesty is one of my ugly habits."
being honest in a culture that collectively embroiders and crochets the truth, must make you lonely.
but then again we call torture:
exuberant interrogation here on the fruited plain.
PS wanted to comment earlier but my video card kicked the bucket......ya the music clashes with whatever Im playing lol it sounds like a crappy DJ train wrecking...keep it fuck what we think ......
Posted by Anonymous | 9/25/2007 12:59:00 PM