Perspective

Today

11:32 P.M. and the clock seems to be mocking me
Because I could swear two hours hasn’t passed since I started writing.
I didn’t do what I told myself I would today.
Everything was a blur of pretending not to care and not to mind.
I sat, talked, laughed, and messed around with friends
I never realized I had missed so much.
It was such a welcomed distraction from everything.
I was content with sitting and letting the time pass.

It was impossible for me to ignore the nagging sensation though,
and eventually it overwhelmed me
and I could remember every other uncomfortable feeling around me.
A sudden flood of uneasiness and realization hit me like a wall
and it violently ripped me back into the world.
I could feel everything. The way my clothes fell uneasily on my body,
how my ankle was aching,
the bite of the cold on my fingers.
I could hear the tinge of bitterness in the voice
of the guy in the table next to me.
He whispered about his grandfather dying.

This beautiful girl walked by.
The slow and sickening pervasive sensation 
of infatuation I felt was so vivid.She stood still and carefully readjusted her clothes
by embracing her hips with her own arms.
It seemed like she was dancing,
her hips cocked slightly to the side
and her grace impossibly solemn.
She moved her fingers so quietly through her hair,
her teeth softly biting down on her lower lip.
No one else noticed, nothing spoke of her beauty,
no one shared this singular moment of intimate reflection
between this girl I would never know and my silent fascination.

I couldn’t choose what I want to be reminded of
and this ache quickly swallowed me up.
My sister, my brother, my parents, everything,
and her.

I felt the weight of the world
for just a second.
My breath, stuck at my throat.
Then it was gone.
My mind was clear again
and the blur of a familiar face stole my attention.

I laugh, I don’t know why.

It was me

I killed two men today,
It was a quiet Winter mourning.
The dew was thick and heavy,
Wind greeting me only in passing.

I killed two men today,
But I did not hear the trees cry.
The river still painted its age upon the shore,
While the clouds spoke only of bad weather.

I killed two men today,
Yet the world did not whisper sadness.
Even as my sword tore into flesh
I felt only the embrace of skin, of steel, of madness. 

I killed two men today
There was no peace in the face of the first.
In the second I felt the sudden silence.
Now my fingers are so cold.

I killed two men today,

It was him.

It was me 

Short and Simple

Per usual this will be a tirade of dramatic, drawn out, and exploitative of the English language, advance with caution.

I just had a thought pop into my head though. There are so much problems in the world and things that we believe to be everything to us now when taken beneath the light of an entire human lifetime seem so insignificant. Arguments we may have had with people, thoughts, feelings, and ideas we so concretely buried into ourselves become nothing but specs of sand scattered in our past when faced with the ebb and flow of time. 

I was at the library today and met an old gentleman who was around 88 years old. We were the last two people before it closed and so I asked if I could sit beside him. I didn’t know why exactly I had done this but I felt that I needed too.

He was a widower. His wife had died 6 years ago from a stroke. Her last two years spent in a vegetated state with him by her side. His two sons pay for his care and yet he misses seeing and talking to them. The last of their contact had been Christmas, but it was of 2009. He had seen his grandchildren only in pictures; held them only as the digital deconstruction generated by a machine.

But before he left he smiled at me with such sincerity that I couldn’t look him in the eye. I knew that everything I was experiencing now was dwarfed in importance and relevance, contrasted against the silhouette of this man’s life. The depth of sadness in the voice that broke through his smile when he said goodnight was clear but still he smiled. A smile so effortless, an action so short and simple yet conveyed such a sincere meaning. I have never had a more intricate, intense, and heartfelt experience with any other person. Not my friends, not my past relationships, not my parents, no one but this stranger. I saw myself in his loneliness.

What bother’s me now, is that I seem to be okay with this isolation. It’s not a feeling of resounding defeat, nor of complacency, not even nonchalance. No it’s something else. 

I guess I must just be getting old.

Throwback - End of Senior Year Bro Talk

I was at Aloha today talking to one of my friends about a formula all guys would love to have. The formula to get a girl to like you. As in the philosophers stone for every guy in the world.
 
“COME ONE COME ALL! FOLLOW THESE 10 EASY STEPS AND HAVE ANY GIRL AND EVERY GIRL FALL MADLY IN LOVE WITH YOU!”
 
Wouldn’t that just solve the problem for the often forgotten population of the lonely. The problem is, solving this is more impossible than finding out how the universe really started. At least there are clues for the big bang, women on the other hand are worse than snowflakes when it comes to differences. There are also different degrees and extents of relationships you want from girls. He was talking more of a casual fun encounter that is all to often accompanied by a nightlong foray with liquor and the slightest hint of reckless abandon.
 
I was talking about having a relationship.
 
At the very least, we agreed that no matter how you slice the pie, games are part of the human mating ritual. Two people will always start the playful dance with innocent jokes, subtle body language, double meaning conversations, and from there perpetuate the cycle of “falling in love.”
 
We also agreed that EVERYONE can play these games and even the most socially inept human being is capable of expressing their desire to be with someone, even if their “game” isn’t that strong. What sucks though, is that
YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN YOU WIN.
It’s like playing a 1000 X 1000 battleship game with the other person not telling you if you hit or not. All you have to go on is whether her eye twitch was actually a wink, or if what she said had any connotations of intimacy, or even if the hand on your lap was an accident or on purpose.

The spectrum of human expression and emotion is so large and diverse that it is simply impossible for one person to know “exactly” what another person is trying to express with their words or actions. So every guy/girl is left with the option of guessing. Some people have no problem with this and have gained a latent skill of being able to gauge human expression quite easily.

I on the other hand have not been blessed with this divine and latent ability. Instead I have fear, like being afraid that if I start jumping up saying I sunk your battle ship she would simply walk away thinking how much of a dumbass I am for not knowing how to play the game. I’ve always been afraid that I am misinterpreting everything a girl is doing, or even if I’m simply reading way too much into it. You can never really be sure.

My friend then interjected and stated quite easily, “Whats the worse that could happen? Just make the move and take the consequences as they come.” As my asian analytical mind ran 10000000000000^(110000000e) scenarios I came up with one good ending and the rest were pretty bad. The good one was that she would return the sentiment of infatuation, everything else pretty much falls under the terrible side. Maybe I am just over thinking it though, maybe if I man up, like people say, I could become more successful.

Walk as if the ground I tread becomes blessed by my presence and exude the confidence of a god. Talk to women without a care of the consequence and social repercussions and simply become the most straightforward confident person in the world. Or maybe that only works on tv. I always thought it takes time and patience, like a flower you water it and adjust to it. Every successful guy I ask however, seem to perpetuate this idea that you should just fuck trying to grow a flower, and instead go out and cut down a forest.

Do girls really like that?

Has it always been like this?

Is my view and perspective of the world too romanticised?

I mean don’t get me wrong, I fully understand the appeal of having someone to have fun with. Someone you can enjoy yourself around and maybe even gain a physical affection for but that’s never what I wanted. And it seems that the techniques the guys I ask often employ, only attract these kinds of girls. I am in no ways degrading either of them. In fact I don’t pretend not to appreciate or even envy what other guys get sometimes. I have friends who gladly and proudly recall past events about their exploits with women. Often times I chuckle, sometimes I even wish that I had been in their place but always I know,

that really isn’t what I want.

The thing I miss the most about being in a relationship, is the fact that you have someone you can truly confide with, someone who would not simply listen but feel what you tell them. I think that a human heart was built perfectly to fit in the hands of another person. Just the thought that someone out there in the vast expanse of this universe — or even just among the minuscule billions of people in the world — there’s one person who cares about you even though your insignificance is blatantly clear…. well I think that’s amazing.

And I guess trying to reduce this process into a systematic procedure to attract women is no longer relevant. It was never even the issue in the first place. It probably is fairly easy to “hook up” with a girl. It’s just not what I want. What I really want is just someone who I can see myself in, a clear and poignant reflection of my insecurities, incapability, greatness, possibilities. Someone that can reveal who I really am and what I am capable of doing. Not just another girl. Not the hot chick from Starbucks, or the girl I met in the library with a nice smile, although a nice smile never hurts.

I want to find her.


*Note - LOL I sound like such a girl =.=

Good Point

“Just erotic. Nothing kinky. It’s the difference between using a feather and using a chicken.” - Terry Pratchett

Write a Limerick?

When tasked to write this dictum
I spat, complained, and then some.
What am I psychic?
What’s a limerick?
Screw it. I’m writing a poem.

sleep well friend

why would you leave so early man? 

you haven’t even done anything worthwhile, 

are you trying to prove me right about our insignificance?

I swear you don’t have to 

when someone sleeps too long does no one really notice?

because i’m noticing,

i’m hurting,

i’m waiting for my phone to ring,

i’m still wondering why no one answers,

i’m still confused,

i’m still numb 

tell why you can’t just wake up?

walk up to me,

hug me,

tell me all the secrets we will never share,

take your time making me laugh,

make me cry from our stories,

remind me of our foolishness.

damn it man why would you leave so early? 

why you can’t just open your eyes?

or maybe i’m the one afraid to wake up.