home. it’s been a very nebulous idea for me over the past two years.
i don’t know whether it’s the stars of the great northwest or the cool breeze of cameron highlands.
finally i’ve realized something though. for the past 2 years i’ve gained this obsession with travel. this nomadic hunger to see new things and experience new places. to be honest at first it worried me. i wondered how could i ever have a normal life with these sort of tendencies? today i realized that i’m not looking for constant travel or constant adventure… i’m looking to replace a home that has disappeared. when my mom moved to southeast asia from america and we sold our house of 20-some-years i didn’t want to admit it but i was crushed. what i thought was a natural twenty something drinking habit formed… that one year of binge drinking turned into another year of figuring myself out. and i have, finally.
i’ve found a new home. i don’t plan to be here forever but i plan to make it last and i plan to take what i’ve learned with me. and the one person i’ve gained i trust will come along. family is ever growing but love is very limited. it’s like a card game i learned recently where you can only have one card in your hand at any time. i’ve got the best card and i’m keeping it.
weekend weekend weekend weekend weekend weekend week.
i paper the walls with random crosswords and bits of photos from friends and i going out. i look around and realize what a truly good ride i’ve had. so i calm myself, listen to that song and think of that week. dammit. i still feel good.
i’ve changed since my previous writings. i’m still passionate and i still love… i just know that this world and this life is under my control. while i used to worry that i would end on a foul note, now i hope that i end on a note that is not flat.
she fixes the couch. she sits down. chips chips chips.
i eat a chip as well.
no but really. slowly i move and by slowly i mean at paces that even a slug would shun but i’ve gotten to where i am and i’m happy. i’ve never been perfect and frankly if i ever were the world would be in trouble because i’m so damn vain but since i’m not i can sit here and write things like this. i’m a much better writer when i’m unhappy.
i’m a much better writer when i’m unhappy.
“dear notebook (my mom calls it my ‘diary’)
“My thoughts of you in passing are brilliant and clear while my writing seems so convoluted and vague.
“My eyes well up with tears quite rarely these days. I feel remorse, loss and lack of ability to cope the same way that I imagine Sir Thomas More felt the flames or me 12-year-old neighbor felt the rope (not implementing the same passion or curse but to recall the emotion). There has never been such a piquant moment for me as sitting on that red couch watching ‘Garden State’ and hearing Zach Braff discuss the reality of home. When he said, ‘You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn’t really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone.’ I could feel the emotion in my body though I might not of expressed it physically my heart was falling apart.
“What happened to that space? Was it sucked away with all the negativity? How could we have lost and regretted all of those lost things but remembered this space… This *nothing*?
“The emptiness of that space is something that depressing as it may be I would give anything to reclaim. The love, the friendship, the ennui of that space was so sublime that when I said, ‘Quit your job! Go to Singapore! Move on!’ I had no idea how iconoclastic this seemingly mundane statement would be. It came true and so have I. I can’t seem to wake up from the broken nightmare that has come to be.
“I love my family, I love my life, I love what I’ve become (mostly)… But… Did I put us all here?”
It’s been a while since I’ve been shaken. Just arms put to my shoulders and saying nick you need to wake up, you need to wake up and look around you. Thanks for shaking me.
I’ve been extremely happy the past 8 months. I’m fulfilled, traveled, intelligent, able, (mostly) healthy and strong. I’ve learned a lot about myself, the people around me and the things I value most. For maybe 4 months now I’ve been beating this dead horse of finding someone to love because I feel like I’m finally there with myself (whereas I used to love others more than myself). There is a huge amount of love and appreciation around me and I’ve been blessed everywhere I go with accepting and caring people.
I feel like it is very important in life to share what you have. One of the things I’ve had especially recently is a smile and I’ve shared that with everyone I can. I’ve shared my money, my thoughts and my love with anyone who was there to accept it. I’ve not written in here because this has previously been my place to express things to people in ways I couldn’t in speech. I seem outgoing but I’m damn shy especially with people I have interest in. So here’s to the pretty girls who make me nervous and say awkward things.
I’m going to start expressing that more. It’s summer and I’m in spring mode. And I’m gonna show it.
[ ignore this blog, it should have been scribbled down on a piece of paper ]
I always think about how rare every situation is. About how all these unique little circumstances must first happen for the conclusion to happen. How “If I hadn’t gotten sick and walked to the bathroom I’d never of met her” or how “If I hadn’t moved to the other side of the world I’d of never realized that I could relate to someone so easily.” But the truth is that there is nothing miraculous about these occurrences at all they are just the way things happened there is nothing shocking or amazing but the good or the bad in extremes always amaze us but they always get added up and smashed into that average. However I like to think that these extreme goods and bads get added together and there is very little room for the very basic averages… that one person who always sits in the middle chair who dates one person their whole life and is never really happy but never really sad. And who knows, maybe that’s as happy as everyone else is. You can’t be happy without sad and vice-versa.
I’m pretty strange about love. You see my emotions are really stretchy. I automatically love everyone and anyone around me, even when they aren’t particularly lovable people. This makes things really complicated because it’s very difficult to get into my heart, there’s a long line. Very very rarely you meet people who require very preferential treatment. Those people who you loved before you met them and there was a missing spot in you and you couldn’t find the matching piece. So you get that little sifter out and dig it deep into the sand and shake it until there is that piece that exactly matches that little missing bit in your soul. Even when you find it though, what do you do? Do you jump at it like a wild savage beast? What if you scare your chance at being complete away? Do you lie back and hope it comes to you? What if you let your chance at being complete wonder away without telling it how important it is to you?
Whether you take a quick jab at it or you slowly bring it in with a smile and friendship… Don’t let it get away. Those little pieces and big pieces are what make a person a person and without the effort, without the love, without the nervousness and the reckless abandon life wouldn’t be life.
Miguel didn’t know much about men. In fact if he didn’t have a penis and a stout beard he’s probably of (happily) forgotten they exist. When he walked alongside the apartment complex that he frequently visited he cried a little bit because the small pieces of tree stuck in the chain link fence looked as though they were being strangled by the metal fence and it reminded him of the frustration he felt when he saw her.
Her eyes were deep, not like the usual “pool” and “ocean.” Her eyes were more of that fragrance that old ladies wear that is intoxicating in all the wrong ways. Mostly cause she’s an old lady so you try not to smell it, but you can’t help it, it’s as though it’s being shoved into your nose. Unfortunately she wasn’t an old lady. She was a young and beautiful girl. Miguel lost his balance.
You know. It’s not that Miguel was easily persuaded. No actually it’s the exact opposite. Miguel had successfully prodded off all the suggestions and attempts for months. This one spiked his interest. Maybe he was vulnerable or maybe he was just being weak but the way she smiled and the way she danced reminded him of how much he loved to breathe, reminded him of how much he loved to love.
He hoped this timing was alright. He hoped his hands weren’t shaking too much. And he touched her hand. She giggled and shrugged it off.
Miguel lost his balance.
She always had much more to say than he did.
It wasn’t because he was quiet or dull or unintelligent. It was because he was unable to communicate his feelings in a way that sounded like dry leaves under footsteps instead of nails on a chalkboard. When he wrote something he always immediately moved to the eraser bit or backspace key afraid of what it might sound like or how dumb it might make him sound. And he wasn’t particularly bright, especially not in the way she was. He could write applications which could write better than he.
And again he was lost. Floating in a sea of words, unable to grab onto a capital D and float in it’s bubble to safety.
He always left his window open as well. It didn’t let in the winter or the feeling of her. It only let in the noisy outside city and a brisk, hot, wet reminder that it was only him in this bed. He wished that he had a quilt here. A big, fluffy, sewn together quilt which would make him as warm on the inside as he was on the outside. Again the fan behind him blew the little styrofoam bowl which he had eaten from earlier around in the smaller bowl which he had eaten from before that.
The light finally came on, right as he was getting ready to go to sleep. As he curled up in his bed and tried to think sleep thoughts his eyes were suddenly very wet.
Running was something he had to do. Being alone was something he must know. Punishment was something he deserved.
He thought of her often. He didn’t deserve that either.
Again he came to the end of what he was saying and still had said nothing. I love you. I miss you. I’m looking everywhere and I’m still at a loss.
he thought of her often but didn’t miss her because he knew that she knew he needed this.
the song kept playing in his head and his heart beat with love, determination and some aggression. the comments on his un-american attitude were flattering. his goal was near. his goal of being the person who he knew he was but had been too scared to stand up to being. too lazy.
people believe in me. “I just got home from work and I had to tell you that part of the bus ride home I thought about how much I really, really admire you.” where his knees used to shake because he was afraid he might not live up to the expectations of those around him… now his legs were strong and able from the teachings of all those around him.
“if you ain’t where you are, you’re no place.”
i am here. i am now. i can do this and i will keep doing this until my legs give out.
even though she was far away, she was sitting right next to him, holding his hand and when he was exhausted she sat him down and iced his wounds.
distance be damned, you’re my love and that’s all i need from you.
(09:08:59 SGT) darby: hi
(09:09:06 SGT) darby: hi how are you today?
(09:09:13 SGT) email@example.com: i’m pretty good. i’m in seattle.
(09:09:22 SGT) darby: my name is paris I’m doing great today I’m 21 yrs old how old are you?
(09:09:49 SGT) firstname.lastname@example.org: my name is nick and i’m doing great today. i’m 24 how old are you?
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(09:10:16 SGT) email@example.com: oh paris.
(09:10:19 SGT) firstname.lastname@example.org: i probably shouldn’t.
(09:10:23 SGT) email@example.com: i’m out with some friends.
(09:10:37 SGT) darby: I can show u how to watch free if u promise not to tell anyone else how to do it???PLEASE:-$
(09:14:06 SGT) firstname.lastname@example.org: Well my friend Sera is looking over my shoulder.
(09:14:07 SGT) darby: ready yet
(09:14:10 SGT) email@example.com: Is it okay if she knows?
(09:14:36 SGT) firstname.lastname@example.org: Paris?
(09:14:37 SGT) darby: well since its free the law that u gotta be 18 (nudity involved), u have to sign up with a credit card for age verification! BUT .. Once you are inside, just clikc on “Webcams” let me know what name you use to sign in with so I know it is you babe! http://www.hotwebcamlocals.com/vicky fill out the bottom of the page then fill out the next page as well and u can see me live for free!
(09:14:38 SGT) email@example.com: Are you there?
(09:14:58 SGT) darby: Please dont mention anything about that in the chatroom once u get in ok?:-$
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(09:15:28 SGT) email@example.com: What’s your favorite color?
(09:15:29 SGT) darby: OH SHIT.. k I am late to start my show, I gotta get off msn…I will see ya inside my chatroom babe.. remember not to mention that I am upgrading u for free… You can use your msn name to sign in so i know it is you..
(09:15:35 SGT) firstname.lastname@example.org: Paris?
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(09:15:45 SGT) email@example.com: Paaaaaaaaaaris
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(09:40:08 SGT) firstname.lastname@example.org: Paris?
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broken hearts are usually generated by the person who gets destroyed.
in fact i’d say they always are.
you see love is fickle and nervous and frigid and hidden. there is nothing wrong with hiding from it. there is nothing wrong with being destroyed. all that you can worry about is giving your all.
you see. smiling at someone is something that even the most annoying of ’50’s couples could put up with every morning and now no one can even humorously smile at someone every morning on the bus. i’m not citing a weakness, i’m just confused. i’m that douchebag who smiles at you at 6am on the bus when you wish you were sleeping or at 2am when you wish you’d of had less to drink.
i just want to know why no one smiles back.