Not sure what I am doing, but this is a moment where Dirk is talking to global4immigration. Which is a immigration company that specialize in helping ppl in hospitality industry in finding a job. Now that he has told them his record history, I am pissing my pants. After we fought before he called, after I told him what to do and then told him what he did was wrong. He called in frustration. These days I don’t know what to do because I know I am schizophrenic enough in my decisions, to involve this type of thinking with him is only torture. Despite me wanting to go find other things to do, like promote my blog of words, or look at avril’s wedding pics on youtube, I find myself back here, with the speakers on full blast so I can’t hear anything. I feel so out of control and I know OCD ppl hates that.
Given that I had OCD and only a mild form now, I am hating this. The music hurt my ear drums with the earphones so close to the drums. But I fear every moment one song ends because that would be a brief silence, a break for the singers, and a moment to make my heart skip a beat. And for those split second I would hear one or two words from Dirk. I’d try my best to identify the tone and its emotions. I kept on wanting the phone call to end to know what happens, but the longer they talk, I know, the better. Because they haven’t rejected him and if they don’t think he is worthy of talking and wasting all these time, then they wouldn’t talk to him.
Then I get paranoid and think that maybe hes just sitting there in sadness over the horrid news. But then the song ends and my heart jumps beats again.
Then one of the song ended, and it was silence, and I wondered if it was done. And dirk said, “steve, done”
* * *
its been nearly 24 hours since the entry above, and although that conversation didn’t decide the faith of our relationship, something else did. Just another fight, but this time on the topic of moving to London. I knew I pushed too hard and I do regret it. And that’s what drove all of this to hell. But in all honestly, leaving it to him might have just resulted in the same thing in a later date, when we find out we wouldn’t go to London together. That will only bring on the blame game. Irregardless, I am sitting at my house, wondering what to do with all these extra time. Its amazing how everything feels so empty and when you are talking near the end of a breakup, I forgot how nothing makes sense and everything that comes out of your mouth is from emotions, and the brain did NOT have time to stop your stupid trap. I know these moments pass and eating with miran, she told me it will get better. And I know it does, as with most things. And that’s great. In the meantime, this is how I feel.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
the fight
Not sure what I am doing, but this is a moment where Dirk is talking to global4immigration. Which is a immigration company that specialize in helping ppl in hospitality industry in finding a job. Now that he has told them his record history, I am pissing my pants. After we fought before he called, after I told him what to do and then told him what he did was wrong. He called in frustration. These days I don’t know what to do because I know I am schizophrenic enough in my decisions, to involve this type of thinking with him is only torture. Despite me wanting to go find other things to do, like promote my blog of words, or look at avril’s wedding pics on youtube, I find myself back here, with the speakers on full blast so I can’t hear anything. I feel so out of control and I know OCD ppl hates that.
Given that I had OCD and only a mild form now, I am hating this. The music hurt my ear drums with the earphones so close to the drums. But I fear every moment one song ends because that would be a brief silence, a break for the singers, and a moment to make my heart skip a beat. And for those split second I would hear one or two words from Dirk. I’d try my best to identify the tone and its emotions. I kept on wanting the phone call to end to know what happens, but the longer they talk, I know, the better. Because they haven’t rejected him and if they don’t think he is worthy of talking and wasting all these time, then they wouldn’t talk to him.
Then I get paranoid and think that maybe hes just sitting there in sadness over the horrid news. But then the song ends and my heart jumps beats again.
Then one of the song ended, and it was silence, and I wondered if it was done. And dirk said, “steve, done”
* * *
its been nearly 24 hours since the entry above, and although that conversation didn’t decide the faith of our relationship, something else did. Just another fight, but this time on the topic of moving to London. I knew I pushed too hard and I do regret it. And that’s what drove all of this to hell. But in all honestly, leaving it to him might have just resulted in the same thing in a later date, when we find out we wouldn’t go to London together. That will only bring on the blame game. Irregardless, I am sitting at my house, wondering what to do with all these extra time. Its amazing how everything feels so empty and when you are talking near the end of a breakup, I forgot how nothing makes sense and everything that comes out of your mouth is from emotions, and the brain did NOT have time to stop your stupid trap. I know these moments pass and eating with miran, she told me it will get better. And I know it does, as with most things. And that’s great. In the meantime, this is how I feel.
Given that I had OCD and only a mild form now, I am hating this. The music hurt my ear drums with the earphones so close to the drums. But I fear every moment one song ends because that would be a brief silence, a break for the singers, and a moment to make my heart skip a beat. And for those split second I would hear one or two words from Dirk. I’d try my best to identify the tone and its emotions. I kept on wanting the phone call to end to know what happens, but the longer they talk, I know, the better. Because they haven’t rejected him and if they don’t think he is worthy of talking and wasting all these time, then they wouldn’t talk to him.
Then I get paranoid and think that maybe hes just sitting there in sadness over the horrid news. But then the song ends and my heart jumps beats again.
Then one of the song ended, and it was silence, and I wondered if it was done. And dirk said, “steve, done”
* * *
its been nearly 24 hours since the entry above, and although that conversation didn’t decide the faith of our relationship, something else did. Just another fight, but this time on the topic of moving to London. I knew I pushed too hard and I do regret it. And that’s what drove all of this to hell. But in all honestly, leaving it to him might have just resulted in the same thing in a later date, when we find out we wouldn’t go to London together. That will only bring on the blame game. Irregardless, I am sitting at my house, wondering what to do with all these extra time. Its amazing how everything feels so empty and when you are talking near the end of a breakup, I forgot how nothing makes sense and everything that comes out of your mouth is from emotions, and the brain did NOT have time to stop your stupid trap. I know these moments pass and eating with miran, she told me it will get better. And I know it does, as with most things. And that’s great. In the meantime, this is how I feel.
scared
Not sure what I am doing, but this is a moment where Dirk is talking to global4immigration. Which is a immigration company that specialize in helping ppl in hospitality industry in finding a job. Now that he has told them his record history, I am pissing my pants. After we fought before he called, after I told him what to do and then told him what he did was wrong. He called in frustration. These days I don’t know what to do because I know I am schizophrenic enough in my decisions, to involve this type of thinking with him is only torture. Despite me wanting to go find other things to do, like promote my blog of words, or look at avril’s wedding pics on youtube, I find myself back here, with the speakers on full blast so I can’t hear anything. I feel so out of control and I know OCD ppl hates that.
Given that I had OCD and only a mild form now, I am hating this. The music hurt my ear drums with the earphones so close to the drums. But I fear every moment one song ends because that would be a brief silence, a break for the singers, and a moment to make my heart skip a beat. And for those split second I would hear one or two words from Dirk. I’d try my best to identify the tone and its emotions. I kept on wanting the phone call to end to know what happens, but the longer they talk, I know, the better. Because they haven’t rejected him and if they don’t think he is worthy of talking and wasting all these time, then they wouldn’t talk to him.
Then I get paranoid and think that maybe hes just sitting there in sadness over the horrid news. But then the song ends and my heart jumps beats again.
Then one of the song ended, and it was silence, and I wondered if it was done. And dirk said, “steve, done”
Given that I had OCD and only a mild form now, I am hating this. The music hurt my ear drums with the earphones so close to the drums. But I fear every moment one song ends because that would be a brief silence, a break for the singers, and a moment to make my heart skip a beat. And for those split second I would hear one or two words from Dirk. I’d try my best to identify the tone and its emotions. I kept on wanting the phone call to end to know what happens, but the longer they talk, I know, the better. Because they haven’t rejected him and if they don’t think he is worthy of talking and wasting all these time, then they wouldn’t talk to him.
Then I get paranoid and think that maybe hes just sitting there in sadness over the horrid news. But then the song ends and my heart jumps beats again.
Then one of the song ended, and it was silence, and I wondered if it was done. And dirk said, “steve, done”
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Life Directions
Visiting Celia over the weekend to pick up the sewing machine. I came in to take a look at her graduation photos and help pick out which ones she should purchase. Looking at the graduation pictures, we talked about what she was going to do after her graduation.
Celia had a rich enough family so she wasn’t forced to work through university. But she did have part time jobs that were unrelated to her degree in economics. Economics to Asians was the anthropology of the whites, the fall back degree where their parents wont be so upset about.
Not knowing where her passion lies, Celia picked up a mail from Blanche McDonalds and mentioned how they had a hair program.
“For you?” I asked, “as a career?”
“No just for myself for fun,” she said.
“People do those programs for getting jobs, Celia,”
“I know…”
We went over her list of choices, she suggested working for a financial company and taking the place of a friend who is going back to HK, she also talked about being a model, for fun, toy designing, entrepreneur, and I suggested her potential in public relations.
Its amazing to think that at this point, at 22, we are to by now know what we want to do. And I kept thinking, as I was driving home, do I know what I want to do? Maybe I am just pretending to know what I want. And I know I ask this all the time, but does it get answered all the time? Hell no.
Celia had a rich enough family so she wasn’t forced to work through university. But she did have part time jobs that were unrelated to her degree in economics. Economics to Asians was the anthropology of the whites, the fall back degree where their parents wont be so upset about.
Not knowing where her passion lies, Celia picked up a mail from Blanche McDonalds and mentioned how they had a hair program.
“For you?” I asked, “as a career?”
“No just for myself for fun,” she said.
“People do those programs for getting jobs, Celia,”
“I know…”
We went over her list of choices, she suggested working for a financial company and taking the place of a friend who is going back to HK, she also talked about being a model, for fun, toy designing, entrepreneur, and I suggested her potential in public relations.
Its amazing to think that at this point, at 22, we are to by now know what we want to do. And I kept thinking, as I was driving home, do I know what I want to do? Maybe I am just pretending to know what I want. And I know I ask this all the time, but does it get answered all the time? Hell no.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Thursday, March 08, 2007
The Chase
Everyone in downtown has a dog because 1. It makes being alone less lonely, and 2. Using it as a guy/girl magnet will make you not lonely anymore. Today was one of those days I wished I had a dog.
Peter was being an ass again. His text message felt sarcastic and insincere, mocking and disguised as replies to my desperate calls for us to go out. Or I am just overlooking every word, but I know, I know.
Sitting at the usual Blenz, I turned on MSN to try and reconnect to the world outside of portfolio and snobby fashion bitches. I did and I talked with Terry, it was great playing catch up and it made me feel less disconnected. But I know, and I feel like one of those guys stuck in the past, reliving the days of endless video games and pointless hanging outs. I felt like as if I should be living in my basement of my parents’ house, scratching my belly and kicking empty beer cans, exclaiming over the newest game out on PS3. Calling my buddies to play first person shooters and call each other fags. Turn off the games and the phones and jerk off to porn till 5 in the morning.
Those days are gone and instead are replaced by ambition, fear of self-loathing, and searches for the one. But I can’t help but think, if I feel this way, yet I am still just the ‘regular guy’ at the coffee shop, typing into his laptop, there must be others out there disguised just as well as I am, if not better. They can be successful businessmen, gym bunnies, or that barista. Then another thought came to me, what if we all feel somewhat like how I feel, what if all these ambition, these searching, are just to find that person who we can feel like how we used to again?
Are we seeking our past with our future?
Peter was being an ass again. His text message felt sarcastic and insincere, mocking and disguised as replies to my desperate calls for us to go out. Or I am just overlooking every word, but I know, I know.
Sitting at the usual Blenz, I turned on MSN to try and reconnect to the world outside of portfolio and snobby fashion bitches. I did and I talked with Terry, it was great playing catch up and it made me feel less disconnected. But I know, and I feel like one of those guys stuck in the past, reliving the days of endless video games and pointless hanging outs. I felt like as if I should be living in my basement of my parents’ house, scratching my belly and kicking empty beer cans, exclaiming over the newest game out on PS3. Calling my buddies to play first person shooters and call each other fags. Turn off the games and the phones and jerk off to porn till 5 in the morning.
Those days are gone and instead are replaced by ambition, fear of self-loathing, and searches for the one. But I can’t help but think, if I feel this way, yet I am still just the ‘regular guy’ at the coffee shop, typing into his laptop, there must be others out there disguised just as well as I am, if not better. They can be successful businessmen, gym bunnies, or that barista. Then another thought came to me, what if we all feel somewhat like how I feel, what if all these ambition, these searching, are just to find that person who we can feel like how we used to again?
Are we seeking our past with our future?
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Tears and Saturdays
I think its always nice and awkward when a friend calls and they end up or already are, crying. It makes you feel special, or at least makes you wonder, how many people can they decide to call during their weak and teary moments? Mind you, it hasn’t happened to me for a long time now. And that makes me question my relationship with many, its still interesting for me to consider the occasion. To open up to someone and show this vulnerable side, it takes a trusting relationship. To be honest I have never seen Dirk cry either. I wonder if he could.
Regardless, its Saturday, and I am at Blenz typing away. With an average looking man next to me. At first I was somewhat bothered at the loneliness, a common struggle on the weekends, but then I remember what Carrie says about her Saturdays, “it was a care free and uneventful Saturday, 3 cups of latte and 2 fashion magazines later…” and that didn’t make me feel so bad. Because she is fabulous, and so am I.
Regardless, its Saturday, and I am at Blenz typing away. With an average looking man next to me. At first I was somewhat bothered at the loneliness, a common struggle on the weekends, but then I remember what Carrie says about her Saturdays, “it was a care free and uneventful Saturday, 3 cups of latte and 2 fashion magazines later…” and that didn’t make me feel so bad. Because she is fabulous, and so am I.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)