Hi there, its me – the emotionally bi-polar guy
I was overwhelming swept away with a desire to call the Ex; to the point where I even dialed the number to reach her. NM was nice enough to remind me not to call until I lose 10 kilos and that’s what I intend on doing. I want those eyes popping out when we meet again and fuck me twice on Tuesday if I don’t make that happen.
Im a vindictive prick but that’s okay.
So is it ironic that last night I was mulling over my place in the universe and on signs and today I watched a movie on just that? I saw “Lady in the Water” and I don’t care, I liked it. It’s a story requiring suspension of all rationality and basis in fact. It’s a bed time story and I liked it. I liked the idea that we are all trying to find our purpose and even though it may be mistaken, in the end, it rights it self and ordered transcends. I like the idea of the universe sending messages and reading signs. Look, perhaps its just my own imagination and synapses firing in all kinds of ways that make me connect random events. But I would like to believe that there is something in the Big Nothing looking out for me and that chaos does cease and is replaced by order.
I still believe in magic and always will. And this ties in with my idea of love, love does exist, I just haven’t found it yet. And call me a naive optimist, but somewhere out there is a woman made just for me (heck, the ancient greeks had it right, that the gods created the perfect creature and Zeus feared how beautiful they were so he ripped them into two and ever since then, each has been looking for its other half)
I like idea of being destined for a purpose, for happiness. And I will not voluntarily decline chances or opportunities. Even if I get my heart broken a million times, I will always take chances. The universe can try and dump on me and perhaps it will be a lifelong battle, but at least one I fought (vis-à-vis rolling over and taking it).
But yes, it was funny to watch the irony in the universe today, to see a movie that gelled so well what was I was thinking about. Bring it on baby, I may have taken a lot of blows this year which makes me less enthusiastic about meeting things head on, but you know what, I’m still here, and I’m still taking steps.
Oo, and guess what, found two shops that I now love – FCUK and Zara (got two Ts from each place and nice nice shoes from Zara (they had my size!! FYI: size 12)
You know what they say about guys with big feet – big shoes…
Ooo ooo, shopping
Now it’s the Bank Holiday, and I have to make use of the sales. I must confess that my suspect gay friend (who isn’t but is so very metro, heck he got $250 beige snake skin boots and he is 4 ft. nothing) was right:
I used to be a 6-minute shopper and took some pride in it. Then I realized my wardrobe sucks, good clothes do exist and I can actually afford them. So with that in mind, I have forayed this year into the shopping frenzy (which in my case comes no where nears some of my female friends’ frenzies which last all day. I need 2 hours, then I get like a sulky 5 year old, dragging my feet).
I love pin striped. Every shirt I have has striped. Don’t know why.
I am beginning to enjoy my retro Ts now and am going hunting today for more. Also, I hear Zara calling.
Ugh, I have got to keep a check on my money, I waste way too much and I feel like crap. So I cancelled by NY b’buster membership and didn’t/was too lazy/couldn’t be bothered to return 2 dvd’s. I saw they charged me $20 for each. Which ones? MASH and Citizen Kane!!
Ugh…no more wasting, no no no no….clothes fine, so long as its something that lasts…I mean a $50 shirt that I wear thrice is more expensive than a $100 coat I wear much longer….so, I am shopping my cost per wear….god what a geek
I’m as big a fan of drunken posts as I am of drunk-dialing.
And I don’t like drunk-dialing.
Suffice to say, I have a few things to say. And I hope the universe is reading this.
So I went to Ash’s bf’s place with SB. I drank a half n’ half on an empty stomach. What scared me was the ease with which is went down. But there are bigger things that scared me.
I sat on his balcony and it’s the first high-rise I have been in in this city. Its not like NY, its not ordered, the streets don’t run straight and true; its muddled up and sprawled out, like a person, the lights on tall antennas blinking as steady as I hear my own heart. And I feel low.
I caught myself washing my face and looking in to the mirror and having the uneasy thought, “this isn’t my life”. I can see my arms reach out for another sip of my drink, a strange disconnect between my arms and my head, like it’s a weird art-house movie with a first person point-of view. I don’t recognize my own face. And I have always prided myself at knowing who I am, where I am coming from and where I want to go. Its what keeps me sane; today was the first time, albeit for a fleeting second, that I didn’t recognize myself and I was lost. I ….
I remember looking out at the city, completely disillusioned, for the first time in my life, with love and longing. It too dies, nothing is permanent, feelings change, people move on and love dies. And its sad because this was the only thing that actually gave me hope, each day moving along, the sun rising and like a stop motion picture, setting as it always does.
And sitting in the balcony, I felt completely and utterly insignificant. We tend to magnify our problems to feel that we have a place in the world, that we are human and have a reason for existence. But what if we don’t?
I always believed that there were only two things I lived for, that my life was driven by these two basic tendencies: love and learning.
What if one of them dies, what is one of the pillars is pulled out, how much listing can occur before it falls and a cloud of dust rises, obliterating all light and clarity
I am maudlin and I recognize it and I wallow in it. It, sadly, makes me feel alive.
I wish I would grow up and stop adolescent meanderings but its hard to get un-lost.
I don’t know who I am. I can see my hands on the keyboard, poised in a question mark, I can see them race across and the fingers move and its as though of their own accord, I see myself from above, a weird 3rd person view, peering in into a painting, observing, reacting but never engaging.
God fucking help me, why do I feel like this, I know all things move to one end, happiness (apropos Aristotle) but what happens when that beautiful thought is warped? What happened when the ‘all things’ he talks about try and move toward that one end but don’t know how, that they lie there twisting trying to reach someplace without knowing how to get there.
This is the first time in four years where I don’t know what the next step is. My foot-steps stop and a leg is raised questioning. Where does it land, whats the next tile…I cant believe my life is disordered, stumbling against events and circumstances, there has to be another meaning, order…hell the universe moves from chaos to order….
I seem…I feel as though I am moving in the opposite direction and that in it self is contrary to the universe
I wax melancholic