Hello ladies and gentlemen of
E2. Once again, I am here, in the dark, with my close friends,
depression and
dementia sitting on either side of me. Today, slowly, as the day progressed, the day just either seemed longer or more tortuous. It feels like I've lost my way, like I've lost my
innocence all those years past.
Ring. The phone rings. This time, it rings while I'm outside, on the
balcony. The
full moon is no longer present in the sky, or at least I'm too blind to see it. I don't say much, but at least I tried to listen. We talk for a while, though I wasn't really much of a talking mood yesterday. I missed my
UBC final because I knew that I was going to fail anyways. Tomorrow, I'll have another one, and knowing that I'm going to fail it anyways, I decide not to go. It may be a waste of money, but at least I know what I don't want to do in school. I wish that it didn't take me two years to find out but its
better late than never I suppose.
I still sat out there, in the balcony, looking at the parked cars outside.
BMWs.
Acura Integras. It infuriates me how certain people in the world don't have to work for anything yet they still achieve such things. I realize that they are simply items to make life easier, but I don't have it. I guess I'm just being
greedy. I guess the simplest way to explain is that people
crave what they do not have. All this time, I'm still on the phone, listening intently on one hand, while drifting off on another. I try speaking softly, trying to make sure that I can do both at the same time, but they cannot hear me. I guess my
attention span is degraded as well as my mental stability.
Click. I press the end button. The call ends. Again, I'm left here in the dark, left in the cold to fend for myself. I'm tempted to watch some TV but I rather not. Gives me more reason not to sleep.
Buzz. The phone vibrates on the desk. I answer lightly, almost like a whispering tone, to hear a voice gentle yet sharper than knives. Intently, every word recorded, embedded actually, in my mind. After an hour or so of
innate conversation, I'm left again to contemplate events of the past. Even at my age, I still don't know how to not live in glory days, not to live in the past. Maybe one day I'll understand, but for now, its too fragile to be tampered with in such a direct manner. No longer is it a delicate flower, but more of a bowl, balanced on a stick.
After a while of this insighting time, I try to sleep. As usual,
insomnia gripped me, but this time, I didn't mind. I had a lot on my mind. I close my eyes, and like a movie theatre, I recall days of greater happiness, and days of great importance that helped form who I am. I recalled days of great joy, days of great betrayal, caused by me and dealt to me. Why I torture myself, I don't know, nor do I know how to stop it. I worry too much about other people, and when its time for me to deal with my own problems I don't know how. I'm too tired for it all.
I close my eyes, I pretend not to feel anything, and I sleep...
I wake up, after having a nightmare. I shrug, then I sleep....
I wake up, after another nightmare. I gasp, then I sleep....
I wake up, after another terrifying nightmare. I grab my ribs. See
Dream Log: April 12, 2001 for details. I go run errands and eat lunch. The night seems young yet, and mine for the taking. I decided to do some physical activity. I go to the gym, earlier than
MrFurious this time. I needed some time alone, alone to figure things out with a medium to focus my excess frustration and energy. I get there, only to see some lady friends of mine. While I was thrilled to see two beautiful young women pleased to speak to me, it wasn't a good time. Slowly, I go on the exercise bike and once again contemplate. For 20 minutes, my mind focused through the happiness of the past, the problems of today, and the promise of the future. After 7 miles, I stop and get back to weight training. About an hour later,
MrFurious gets there. Manly bonding. Lovely. We work out, check out a cute
filipina lady there, then off to the arcade. After
DDR and a game of
Cannon Spike, to
7-11 for a slurpee and
Save-On Foods for some dried
apricots. Then home I go.
I come home, and eat dinner. As each spoonful came into my mouth, I found it hard to swallow what is happening to me. I don't want to eat this food, but I don't refuse it. I don't want to eat anymore, but I have to spare my mother's feelings. All in a good day's work for a
momma's boy I guess. The thought of it all made me cringe and warm inside all at the same time.
Now I am here, noding once again about my futile little existence. I don't say much in person anymore, simply because it hurts to think about it. But once, every night, I let my mind wander, into the darkness, and let it have its say in the matter. I recede all consciousness and let my fingers do the talking. Like the
Yellow Pages I suppose. Now if I can only find the number of a good psychiatrist.
Let the darkness embrace you, as it holds the promise of eternal vigilance against the light. With its icy grip, it will preserve your soul in its precious, pristine condition. Hold its hand tight, as it will not hold your hand back, like a loving parent does. It will not stop you from going into the warm light. No longer will you be alone for it is forever, everywhere and inevitable.
Try not to find my body here anymore. It's simply a shell to hide millions of false identities. To find me, simply close your eyes and think of me. Then you'll see, what you want to see, and what I am not. You cannot find me. Hold your hand out. I will seek you. Do not wait for me. I will come when you least expect it.