I was going to start by saying I don't know why I do this to myself. This isn't true. It's amazing how even an inner monologue can begin with false truths. That is how this started, an inner monologue. I was watching a movie and feelings reflected, cropped up even, It's the empathy in me. Normally held at bay by my own safeguards, my barriers, walls. These are part of a total defense mechanism, one only defeated by one of two things; a warm and caring touch or alcohol.
Lets just say the former is almost 2 months from the day away from being the plural form of a length of time it takes for the earth to rotate the sun. The later tends to occur as often as the earth itself rotates. Not in excess. Back to the point. What I do to myself. I break down the walls and barriers of my own accord and expose myself to raw emotion, captured in film granted, but anything meant to invoke emotion in people, performed by credible actors does exactly as intended, within me.
To experience this film in any form of weakened state, seeing the sparks of love igniting between two people quickly over 2 weeks before the man leaves for the last year of his active duty, at the end of which war happens and he is duty bound to re-enlist and break this to her. There is so much more to it and I do not do the story justice.
What I do not understand is this. There are so many men out there who do not understand honor. There are so many that do not understand romance. After the 20+ years of genetic programming at the hands of disney and other such mediums creating a generation of women ever so more seeking romance and being swept off their feet by a "Prince" they still dismiss such a man upon meeting them and run on continuing to get hurt by bad men so they are always in delicate position fearing pain and dismissing the good guys, rinse repeat.
I am tired of thinking about it. Here I am longing of such a romance depicted, I've been there before but the fire burns out. I'll settle for the chance to burn regardless of the outcome.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Burning
There is fire inside that simmers yet yearns to consume that which my eyes wish to set upon. A sight so calescent that with each thought it consumes the very air I breath leaving less then what I had when I first held my breath. There isn't much time left now. The sands of the hour flow freely through the glass that is teasingly shaped like that which doesn't hold true to its own test. It is a measure that spans a life, the greatest of which being the first half and I do but question if that has passed. There comes a moment when it is decided without discourse that which shall prevail. Does the fire burn bright yet controlled by a master, fueling his desires and passion, or does it overwhelm him only to consume all that once was yet is all that is left. A sweltering inferno that leaves no chance for life to grow from the ashes.
Monday, March 21, 2011
I retire for the day
I've eaten, both a liquid meal and that of various solids. I've consumed my own fill of prescribed spirits. I am content for now and so I retire to a bed shared with ghosts. They are always out of reach but that does not stop them from touching me as I sleep and experience what my subconscious cares to torture me with for for its part. The conscious portion of my mind apparently does not do the need for such turmoil justice, so it huants me so as I rest.
Im not sure the word rest quite qualifies. Moments of physical activity in lull, thought out but not to be accomplished in that time of closed eyes, not in any sense of permanency or reality anyway. I still wake reaching out for or trying to roll into or snuggle into women who are not there. Like ghosts. For each time I think youve been laid to rest, a new emotion brought upon by a new person, after it is lost; digs it all up again, with yet one more in attendance.
There is always hope so they say. If only this bed wasn't memory foam A years worth of impression is not done in by 2 years worth of emptiness, I still roll over and sink into the past, and it feels empty still even today.
Im not sure the word rest quite qualifies. Moments of physical activity in lull, thought out but not to be accomplished in that time of closed eyes, not in any sense of permanency or reality anyway. I still wake reaching out for or trying to roll into or snuggle into women who are not there. Like ghosts. For each time I think youve been laid to rest, a new emotion brought upon by a new person, after it is lost; digs it all up again, with yet one more in attendance.
There is always hope so they say. If only this bed wasn't memory foam A years worth of impression is not done in by 2 years worth of emptiness, I still roll over and sink into the past, and it feels empty still even today.
Yet another fresh start
So I have gone the way of posting a profile on an internet dating site. Seeing as how I have not the time to go about a nightlife seeking companionship and work is the last place I need place any hope in meeting a genuine person without motive or intentions contrary to what I need, It seems my only choice.
I realize appearance is again of equal importance to that of personality, at least, in as much of personality as can be personified in a personal. I know what I am attracted to in both forms. While I seem open to personality in a wide range, I seek a physical persona closely relating to my own. I do not see shame in this, I simply seek a physical persona closely relating to my own.
I was close to a relationship with a woman whom did not meet what I would normally consider inside my physical desires. She was beautiful regardless, just never lost the weight associated with having a child. Her personality more than made up for it. At least at the stage we were at. I always carried the dread that should we get to a more physical stage her weight would be a turn off and that would slowly eat at me. I have been in that position before.
My ex fiance was 9 years my elder. While at 18 she looked like Kate Winslette in titanic, at 35 with a 16 y/o daughter, she was no less then 35 ibs heavier then I at least and 4 inches shorter. what a beauty mark then was now a mole on the face. Simple things turned attention that lead to, resent. I worry what ill be like at an older age. If i cant now see attraction in the physical forms of some, will that change when im 40. Will I be then attracted to what was then a beautiful body at 21 but is now 40 like myself..
This is a worry I hopefully need not deal with at the moment, I still question it. I am sure I am best seeking one such as myself, my age or younger yet as mature in most ways as I am for my age or as I was at that age. I want a friend that is there for me in every way I am there for as a friend, that wants more, someone to share a bed with, someone who wants romance, wants satisfaction with a partner, wants to embrace the simple joys in life and a relationship, that could bloom into a lifelong union of souls.
I realize appearance is again of equal importance to that of personality, at least, in as much of personality as can be personified in a personal. I know what I am attracted to in both forms. While I seem open to personality in a wide range, I seek a physical persona closely relating to my own. I do not see shame in this, I simply seek a physical persona closely relating to my own.
I was close to a relationship with a woman whom did not meet what I would normally consider inside my physical desires. She was beautiful regardless, just never lost the weight associated with having a child. Her personality more than made up for it. At least at the stage we were at. I always carried the dread that should we get to a more physical stage her weight would be a turn off and that would slowly eat at me. I have been in that position before.
My ex fiance was 9 years my elder. While at 18 she looked like Kate Winslette in titanic, at 35 with a 16 y/o daughter, she was no less then 35 ibs heavier then I at least and 4 inches shorter. what a beauty mark then was now a mole on the face. Simple things turned attention that lead to, resent. I worry what ill be like at an older age. If i cant now see attraction in the physical forms of some, will that change when im 40. Will I be then attracted to what was then a beautiful body at 21 but is now 40 like myself..
This is a worry I hopefully need not deal with at the moment, I still question it. I am sure I am best seeking one such as myself, my age or younger yet as mature in most ways as I am for my age or as I was at that age. I want a friend that is there for me in every way I am there for as a friend, that wants more, someone to share a bed with, someone who wants romance, wants satisfaction with a partner, wants to embrace the simple joys in life and a relationship, that could bloom into a lifelong union of souls.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
End of Another Chapter
So closure has been reached, so far as it can be. Questions always arise beyond that which were originally sought. Solace must be attained in what was answered and not that which is now known to be unkown.
I now know what we had was on the one hand brought down by rumors by people who's pathetic lives gives them little alternatives but to meddle in the affairs of others in order to bring people down to their level of pain in order to share misery and the ugliness they see in the mirror. In the other hand it is weakness and insecurity that leads to her questioning the truth and the choice to let the weaker people win by failing to trust in me.
I am now just considered a co-worker. I am not a friend, not someone to hold on tightly to be a shoulder to cry on. I am not the one whom was asked to stop by on my way to work just to kiss in the snow. I am just a shell of a human being interested in only my own unknown, untrustworthy selfish desires- A co-worker. It is so insulting.
I am sickened at the very thought of it. she would take the word of an acquaintance at work over my own. They say that I told them i have a girlfriend and dont want my actions at work and otherwise to be known to her. Considering I haven't uttered a single word of anything regarding my personal life since months before i started talking to this woman, save for once mentioning i was seeing someone in order to get someone to stop joking that i should start seeing this troll of a woman soon to be divorced. How does that turn into i have a woman and am playing the field and dont want that to get back to my girlfriend, yet this person that told her that felt compelled to run up to her and tell her this when they should have no idea that her and i are even involved in anyway outside of work... It smells like foul play to me. It has nothing to do with what i have said. its either keen observation and total assumption at play, or its her own best friend, the one person she has told anything to has run her mouth about it. its on her, not me.
Its funny and a sad fact of life. How many serial killers have been upstanding staples of their communities, never even suspected by their wives or husbands as being anything but normal loving types. Then the evidence piles up and its proven they have murdered 20+ people.. Can anyone ever be 100% trusted, you think you know them, you spend 20+ years with them and never see it. Blind faith and trust is the only answer, till your proven wrong. She has been given no proof, just heresy by people who should have no clue. she says she doesnt truly know me. I suppose in the way the world works she never will, just as nobody ever will. So it means she inst willing to trust me. The one person that has ever shown her the level of respect she deserves, broken down barriers she thought would never be broken again, all inside a few hours. If that isnt enough, then there is nothing left to be said about it.
I now know what we had was on the one hand brought down by rumors by people who's pathetic lives gives them little alternatives but to meddle in the affairs of others in order to bring people down to their level of pain in order to share misery and the ugliness they see in the mirror. In the other hand it is weakness and insecurity that leads to her questioning the truth and the choice to let the weaker people win by failing to trust in me.
I am now just considered a co-worker. I am not a friend, not someone to hold on tightly to be a shoulder to cry on. I am not the one whom was asked to stop by on my way to work just to kiss in the snow. I am just a shell of a human being interested in only my own unknown, untrustworthy selfish desires- A co-worker. It is so insulting.
I am sickened at the very thought of it. she would take the word of an acquaintance at work over my own. They say that I told them i have a girlfriend and dont want my actions at work and otherwise to be known to her. Considering I haven't uttered a single word of anything regarding my personal life since months before i started talking to this woman, save for once mentioning i was seeing someone in order to get someone to stop joking that i should start seeing this troll of a woman soon to be divorced. How does that turn into i have a woman and am playing the field and dont want that to get back to my girlfriend, yet this person that told her that felt compelled to run up to her and tell her this when they should have no idea that her and i are even involved in anyway outside of work... It smells like foul play to me. It has nothing to do with what i have said. its either keen observation and total assumption at play, or its her own best friend, the one person she has told anything to has run her mouth about it. its on her, not me.
Its funny and a sad fact of life. How many serial killers have been upstanding staples of their communities, never even suspected by their wives or husbands as being anything but normal loving types. Then the evidence piles up and its proven they have murdered 20+ people.. Can anyone ever be 100% trusted, you think you know them, you spend 20+ years with them and never see it. Blind faith and trust is the only answer, till your proven wrong. She has been given no proof, just heresy by people who should have no clue. she says she doesnt truly know me. I suppose in the way the world works she never will, just as nobody ever will. So it means she inst willing to trust me. The one person that has ever shown her the level of respect she deserves, broken down barriers she thought would never be broken again, all inside a few hours. If that isnt enough, then there is nothing left to be said about it.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
The Fight
A conflict battles within the ever expanding yet repetitive confines of my personal experience. The stench fills my subconscious, spilling over into reality;.Deja vu. I have walked this path before, wept as the dream ended, screamed as the nightmare began, and thanked a man I believe in not; when I was sure I was awake again.
It is now clear to me I have not done my intelligence justice. Learning not from the mistakes of the past. It is ever more clear the lack of the learning to be had as I consider the opportunities of the past to be mistakes. Here I lay in a pool of sorrow that spills from an old wound reopened anew in my soul. The conflict inside continues in a death-match between the heart and mind.
The heart still yearns for what it had barely tasted, remembering the sweet indulgence and it ripened once again, reaching maturity in a flutter of a beat. It is not designed for thought but only feeling. The mind knows better then to allow the heart to make decisions. It gives life to the mind and when it wakes from the hibernation forced by a long winter without nourishment, It must flex its muscle and let the mind know who really holds the winning hand.
My heart fights to be let free to chase the very thing that makes the constant work worth the effort.
My mind fights to put the heart in its place, to protect it from a world of hurt. Its an act of self preservation.
My being must collect the input of both parties and make either a mutually beneficial decision or choose one side or the other, bearing the wrath of the losing party.
I cloud the minds judgment with a liquid that thins the blood and lets the heart beat with less resistance. The feelings flow freely and I can hardly contain it. I make the choice freely yet the grip of the mind is strong. Thus far the mind wins as I have been strong and made the choice not to call out to her, not to post a suggestive horoscope in response to hers. Time shall reveal if the mind succeeded in protecting the heart from pain or held to tightly to principle hurting the heart by restraining it.
It is now clear to me I have not done my intelligence justice. Learning not from the mistakes of the past. It is ever more clear the lack of the learning to be had as I consider the opportunities of the past to be mistakes. Here I lay in a pool of sorrow that spills from an old wound reopened anew in my soul. The conflict inside continues in a death-match between the heart and mind.
The heart still yearns for what it had barely tasted, remembering the sweet indulgence and it ripened once again, reaching maturity in a flutter of a beat. It is not designed for thought but only feeling. The mind knows better then to allow the heart to make decisions. It gives life to the mind and when it wakes from the hibernation forced by a long winter without nourishment, It must flex its muscle and let the mind know who really holds the winning hand.
My heart fights to be let free to chase the very thing that makes the constant work worth the effort.
My mind fights to put the heart in its place, to protect it from a world of hurt. Its an act of self preservation.
My being must collect the input of both parties and make either a mutually beneficial decision or choose one side or the other, bearing the wrath of the losing party.
I cloud the minds judgment with a liquid that thins the blood and lets the heart beat with less resistance. The feelings flow freely and I can hardly contain it. I make the choice freely yet the grip of the mind is strong. Thus far the mind wins as I have been strong and made the choice not to call out to her, not to post a suggestive horoscope in response to hers. Time shall reveal if the mind succeeded in protecting the heart from pain or held to tightly to principle hurting the heart by restraining it.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Walking Away In Time
I wake this morning before the rising of the sun, lonely in the darkness. A faint hope that as the life giver of the earth breaks that distant horizon it brings with a chance for two lives separated by confusion to find what was lost in darkness and become whole again.
The minutes pass by into hours. She is home but chooses not to reach out. Irony is heavy in the air warmed by that blinding sphere. It is two-faced, giving life but burning my being. My soul is left charred, its dust carried away by the breeze leaving me less whole then when I began this journey.
I know now that it has always been a series of choices. It is not happenstance nor fate. It is not coincidence nor destiny. It is not random nor karma. It is choice. My attempts to influence the outcome by being the kind of friend I myself seek have been marked with defeat. I have reached out a warming hand of comfort toward a cold back only to have it bitten by the frost that follows. I have poured out my heart only to watch the contents not be held up for all they are but be let to fall to the ground staining the very earth they blanket the surface of.
The doubt continues to drain me like a plague of depletion. The void left fills with more doubt and I feel as if i'm in quicksand. Should I struggle anymore I could be the hand in my own demise. Should I wait for a hand that does not come will I have died from shame.
I want to reach out one last time proving to myself I tried with all I had. Though in the end I know it would only prove to display the weakness inside of me for her to see. I have empowered her enough chasing a ghost of a relationship that was never truly there. Her ego now that of what mine used to be back in a time where I held her up as someone I was not worthy of yet had nevertheless.
I know my heart has not moved on yet and will turn around from time to time looking back. Perhaps she will try to grab hold of it again and tug at the strings once more. There will be no melody played through the plucking now, only a chaos of unrecognizable chords. I am walking away now. In time my heart will follow.
The minutes pass by into hours. She is home but chooses not to reach out. Irony is heavy in the air warmed by that blinding sphere. It is two-faced, giving life but burning my being. My soul is left charred, its dust carried away by the breeze leaving me less whole then when I began this journey.
I know now that it has always been a series of choices. It is not happenstance nor fate. It is not coincidence nor destiny. It is not random nor karma. It is choice. My attempts to influence the outcome by being the kind of friend I myself seek have been marked with defeat. I have reached out a warming hand of comfort toward a cold back only to have it bitten by the frost that follows. I have poured out my heart only to watch the contents not be held up for all they are but be let to fall to the ground staining the very earth they blanket the surface of.
The doubt continues to drain me like a plague of depletion. The void left fills with more doubt and I feel as if i'm in quicksand. Should I struggle anymore I could be the hand in my own demise. Should I wait for a hand that does not come will I have died from shame.
I want to reach out one last time proving to myself I tried with all I had. Though in the end I know it would only prove to display the weakness inside of me for her to see. I have empowered her enough chasing a ghost of a relationship that was never truly there. Her ego now that of what mine used to be back in a time where I held her up as someone I was not worthy of yet had nevertheless.
I know my heart has not moved on yet and will turn around from time to time looking back. Perhaps she will try to grab hold of it again and tug at the strings once more. There will be no melody played through the plucking now, only a chaos of unrecognizable chords. I am walking away now. In time my heart will follow.
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