Everybody Hurts

I took every verbal blow. I did not retaliate. I will go through a process, I like to call, quarantine. This is a period of no more and no less than forty days. And nights. No contact.
I thought to myself, "Yeah. I said music is a gift." It's true. But the most precious thing there is you can give, I gave, and that is time. We went on 17 dates; she met me one quarter of the time. She rightfully resented this.
Even though I have a four year old autistic son, am separated and thus have to provide for myself, I lost my Ipod Touch, and I didn't cry. Well, maybe a little. It kind of hurts still. But it gives me the perfect excuse to get the new Iphone.
I went back to the gym. Finally! I also made friends with a ton of girls at work, none of which I will ask out eventually. Unless, of course, they were to leave Pfizer, and even then I may not go through with it.
I have great friends at work; great people who fraternize and welcome me, engage in lively conversation and, well, sort of care for me. Maybe I'm delusional, but Pfizer is such a friendly-oriented atmosphere. Like a tiny universe inside the vast, empty universe we normally inhabit.
Your boy is strong. Your boy is healthy in every other way. How come she rarely asked for my son? She should have known he is a very important part of me. She did, of course, asked about his condition and she showed enthusiasm and was candid. I don't know what happened to that girl.
I hope she doesn't hurt. If she did, like I did, it only shows that we cared. That's all. Love can be silly. It can be anything you want it to be. I miss that girl.

Come, Sweetest thing of all, Oblivion

When we are in love, we’re in a state of association; everything we do or say somehow is mirrored or mimicked by the object of your affection. The world is as if that other person were an extension of our very self. When we fall out of love, as thus it should eventually happen, we find ourselves in a state of alienation, of disassociation. It becomes suddenly noticeable whatever it was that in the early, romantic stages we somehow missed. Love is very much like a disease or –better yet –a process, and though we may deem circumstances as full of wonder and unpredictability, this frivolous nature of ours observes a very rigid and almost identical course time and again. Of course, it isn’t the same road; the path forged draws parallels to our own intimate journey. We may not know it consciously but we love the same way we have grown accustomed to.

When in love, our mutual selves are aligned and in sync. When the bond is ruptured, due mostly to the corrosive passage of time which inflicts the most savage passion with a great deal of boredom and monotony, freedom is in chains and whatever is left of a time are shattered memories, unfulfilled dreams, broken promises. We suddenly tend to demonize that which seemed to bear godlikeness.

Finding ourselves disowned, feelings of distrust, anger, frustration, anxiety, guilt, jealousy are commonplace. Rather than blaming or looking out for the culprit of our ailment, rather than wallowing in despair, a more dynamic and effective approach lies in a shift of direction. Instead of blaming, accept responsibility, it takes two to tango. Treat yourself with dignity and respect and understand without the slightest sense of regret that whatever happened was worthwhile; focus on the gorgeousness of the forest and not so much in your feet trapped in the mud. In finding yourself at odds with the severity of destiny, realize that that is perhaps the most honest existential state there is and that you can only be found if you first are lost. You can’t go back in time and change things around, and even if you could, the first law of thermodynamics dictates that in time all turns to shreds. So, enjoy taking a mental dump of all of your past, wipe yourself along with your tears, and move on with the pride and graze that have always characterized you. Don’t idle for long in solitude; venture out in time, mingle. This very moment is an opportunity, an invitation, an open to door to untold fortunes, a chance to reinvent and recreate yourself. Don’t waste the morning. Walk the earth. And welcome this ambivalence with the same cheerfulness with which you stood on safe ground. They are, like shadow and light, heads and tails of a same coin. You cannot have one without the other. If only it were possible to drink ourselves silly and not have to worry about a hangover, everyone would certainly be an alcoholic. Pay the price, suffer quietly, and in no time your withered wings will have new sprouts of feathers and you will soar magnificently through the golden crisp sky of dawn, drunken in the arms of a beautiful stranger, under the shelter of the most precious thing, the unsung truth… come, sweetest thing of all.. oblivion.

4th of July, 2010