Sunday, August 14, 2011

Anatomy of another Heartbreaker. The second.

I’ve stared at a blank white screen for about 30 minutes and it felt like only seconds until I snapped back into my dark, early morning reality. It was 4:46 in the morning, and I’ve a sharp, throbbing pain behind my eyes from crying all night long. I couldn’t sleep, but as my vision oscillated for the nth time on my ceiling, I had a burning desire to chronicle my second biggest heartbreak – to the curious, and to those minds and hearts that have lived and survived through their own heartbreaks, my misery will appreciate your company.

It has been three long years since I’ve dated and not for the lack of trying have I not been given a chance to date again. The advent of facebook made connections easier, but it seemed more complicated than that. Human nature seemed to have been equipped with the default delusion to ‘have’ what they can control. The most of those I know, they took connections for granted thinking they had a plethora of people to choose from their virtual social networks. It seemed that only the provocative and the shirtless men got the best attention. I’m willing to bet my car if I wasn’t right to say that facebook has extended the superficial psyche.

Shirtless guy in his underwear and chiseled pectorals and abdominals – boom! 150 comments and 200 likes in 30 minutes. I clicked ‘like’ myself. ;)

I was never a hottie, so I relied on my charm to get me connected. It has been a dry spell for the longest time that in the days where I’ve wanted companionship more than ever, I’d close my eyes and say I’d take even the flings, or like the past relationships I’ve had where I get hurt in the end --- ‘just give me activity’, I’ve said many times.

I’ve a big mouth. I got what I wished for.

In my many attempts to find a connection, after about hundreds of persisting ‘hellos’ and the winking emoticons, where combined would’ve probably seemed like I was in seizure, I felt like a facebook man-slut. I’ve always been a stubborn kid, I know when I want something and I’ll get hurt trying and getting it (again, my big mouth). But that didn’t seem so bad when I realize my circle of friends had gone through the same phase. Except that some of them easily succeeded in as short as months. When I got my break after 3 years.

In one fateful message, I asked ‘You okay?’ and that’s where this all begins.

He was vocal and was very public of his social concerns. The prospect of his open life was very attractive to me since I’ve always kept the details of my buzz mostly on the down low. That got a lot of attention, including mine best. He had a good and free spirit and was easy to gravitate to when you’re as uptight as I am.

When you haven’t been in the game that long, every little thing that happens is as amplified as your hormones when you were 16. That first night we got together, it seemed like every second was magical, and the conversations were like the chick flicks you just can’t get enough of. We held hands and I felt electricity again – like an old car with a new battery, I was on ignition and vibrating. He was the sweetest. The kisses were unstoppable. The words fly out of our mouths without premeditation. I’d take it slow, but in actuality, when I’ve got hold of what was magic to me again, I was weak and relinquished just about everything and gave in to those little moments.

Infatuation ensued, and my relentless romanticism made me just give in and not care about the consequences. Naturally, that had to bite me in the ass at the endpoint, because the exceptions – really - mostly happen only in the movies. My best friend was right about one thing – my attachment got way too strong on this one, so much so that I’m writing this at 5 in the morning.

Like a light bulb, the romance that shone a little too bright in the beginning easily busts as it nears its end. The texts were fewer, the conversations got shorter, the excuses got plenty, and the cold front was just about to come in. If I were smart, I would’ve questioned that right away – but I thought of it as something as all I’ve got at the moment so I‘d nurture it in any way I can, even when it’s dying.

The moment of truth finally came. It was the day where rationality took over deluded romantics. It was a day after my birthday, and, another day after that. It was a short cold front, then sub-zero came in completely that day when he completely ignored my texts and calls. A stranger kept on texting the same day threatening me, quite tastelessly, on how he’d find the right moment to take him away from me. I have questions still left unanswered.

I was stubborn, still had my pride so I drove over there to see what gives. I’ve gotten the privilege of getting to know some of his family. When I got there he wasn’t home. I’ve asked questions that just put all the puzzle pieces to the right fit. He was probably on his way to another date so there was nothing left for me to do but leave, and confront him with a message since he’s ignored my calls the whole day.

He replied saying he couldn’t see me anymore. It wasn’t much a revelation considering it was already happening. All I wanted was proper closure and he couldn’t even pick up a call. I had to park on the side of the street because his audacity was incapacitating. Just as the good stuff was amplified in this entire relationship, so is the pain. Several grueling texts later, I still couldn’t get it in his head that his approach was very wrong. At that point, I was aiming for education on how he shouldn’t be hurting people the way he’s hurting me. His naivety immerses him in the delusion that he’s doing the right thing and even suggests that I’ll be thanking him one day.

Chances are, he can be right – but I’m 7 years older than this little boy. (Oh did I forget to say that? Lol)

Evidently, the pain continues as these words are being typed. The length of the relationship, nor the age gap aren’t the points to ponder on in this quest of peace of mind, but rather, the education and the reminder that anybody you give your heart and your life to can crush it without a scintilla of concern. Even at the precipice of losing your pride, and showing them your vulnerability – these people are the best candidates to KILL you emotionally. But why is it, that despite the strong, cycling, prevalent, and empirical evidences, we continue to love and take the chances at the risk of our sanity?

It appalls me, that despite my understanding of human nature and the complexities of one’s ego, it had to be my most special person that pushes the boundary to make more forms of hurtful actions.

It confuses me on how the warmest kisses transform into cold icicles piercing through you as you lose blood contemplating on how one is capable of such hurt in that short amount of time.

It kills me that you don’t care that you’re hurting me, and you even continue to hurt me more by not ending this right.

I write this document principally as an outlet, never for hate. I’m sure many of you have gone through worse things, but I know there is and will be wisdom learned in every story. I’d like to give my share. I’m a living reminder that maybe sometimes, the cynicism could do you good – but I stand stern in saying that giving up on love, is truly giving up on life and yourself. So long as you live, it’s impossible to switch it off.

I don’t know what I’ll get out of this, but this is by far the closest thing I have to closure from someone who isn’t talking to me anymore. It feels good. And now I’ll finally be able to sleep...


Sunday, August 15, 2010


This year's birthday was the best I've ever had. Hopefully it gets bigger and better every year! To all those who's shared the amazing the love that surrounds me - your love makes me hyper and this is what you get when I'm hyper. Ha ha! this video's for you. ;)

A muffin Story :D

I haven't updated this blog for a long time, I've almost forgotten about it. Ha ha! Here's a Muffin story for you. ;)

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Monday, May 24, 2010

I wonder...

I wonder?

When you’ve gone off track, and you’ve been in a soul search for more time than supposed, you contemplate on a copious department of your life trying to see how the former clockwork has gone haywire in such a short period of time.

It’s baffling to understand how at some level, despite the invincibility you’ve once acquired through holding your career, schedule, relationships, and your commitments with a firm hand, you crumble at the slightest sign of self-doubt.

In principle, I believe that I would never document a predicament I don’t have a solution in the end but in this case, I’ve been struck with such impossible, or maybe perhaps the most difficult, helpless demeanor.

Society dictates who we are to society. The little things we pick up from the other are the little things that make us become our personalities, including the choices we make. The inevitable becomes the victor of our lives and that needn’t even be said.

Yesterday marked my fourth month of unemployment since I embarked in a 360-degree turn in careers. I’m sure, there are other 24-year-olds out there who are jobless like myself. The delusional success of those at the top of their employment lives subliminally mock our very own exaggerated financial laxity.

“Stop looking for Truth, settle for a good fantasy.” – just won’t do with me. I knew that if I stopped being smart I’d be a fool and frightfully become a commoner branded to dwell in such commercialized mediocrity.

Self-righteousness, Pomposity, Pride, Egocentricity, Ambition, Perseverance --- my hexafecta of existence I can never seem to let go. I say insecurity fuels my addiction to understanding. I sulk in a corner to understand truth. And like antibiotics, those who dare antagonize such are just as insecure as I am, the more reason for me to admire humility and sophistication.

However, the blurry line remains between driven ambition and foolish fuckery. The lack of direction presents a challenge and a risk for those of us who are in a point in our lives where we want to wait and see what we’re made for. Sadly, reality and time will sooner or later come to burst that optimistic bubble because in this dimension, nobody does get younger.

My only consolation to ageing is truly the wisdom that I gain from my mistakes or from others.

I don’t know where I’m going. But I’m not lost. I am a molecule in Brownian motion as I bump into others. I am in a point where I let the magic 8-ball make my decisions for me, and let the beating satisfy my needs --- that and in sexual self-gratification. *wink

As I continue to search for inspiration, I am reminded of the inspiration of others and the lesson they present. For example, when all other aspects of your life fail, you can always turn to the ones you truly love, and the ones that truly love you back.

Fuck it, I feel like I don’t have both.

So I wonder, where do I go?

Because fuck it, the beating can only do so much.

Until I find my answers will I only then continue to chronicle such fuckery. In the mean time if you have answers, let’s hear it out.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

The Moon and Venus.

The skies got extra attention tonight. ;)

Wednesday, April 7, 2010


“Tonight people will come home welcomed by their families, squealing kids, some will be welcomed by their dogs, people asking about their day. Tonight, the stars will come out from their daytime hiding places and among them slightly brighter from the rest, will be my wing tip, as I watch over.”

Those were the last lines of a movie that is about to change my life. There have been very few films that have truly captivated what reality is at its truest sense. I believe that some qualities of a good film may be compromised for the sake of art, but the mix of it all just seems very rare to make quite the cut in delivering a message.

Tonight was nothing special, so much so any more significant than the rest of my days. I just watched a film that I think is about to change the way I start to live, and the way I see things. I can’t even fathom as to where this subtle, yet sheer determination to change is coming from but I knew that the moment the credits started rolling, I had to document this profound moment of my history.

Up in the Air.

Its script was genius and intellectual. Perhaps it strikes me as an individual because I understand the characters very much that I embody the emotions they’ve portrayed.

“Imagine a back pack, put all the little things that mattered to you, ALL of it. Starting with the little things in your drawer – the people you’ve shared secrets with, those you’ve been intimate – your special mementos. Now put them all in there, and put it on…

Do you feel the straps on your shoulders?


Now try to move.

It’s difficult isn’t it?”

I am not alone in living a life where it seems like there’s always a heavy burden of self-inflicted pressures on your shoulder. I was too busy trying to figure out meaning and what seemed to be a biological obligation to find true love.

I’ve moved in inexcusable speeds because I’ve sidetracked, for many, many times to just stop and see that dying alone is something universal, and that we’re never lectured by those who have because, duh – they’re dead. And those that actually see either live in denial or just fail to publish what is to them, horrid.

This movie isn’t a love story.

I used to think 500 days of summer wasn’t a love story, but this – rea-hee-heely isn’t a love story. At all.


All this time I’ve been screaming to the world, how proud I am of being romantic. That I bear the scars of a wounded soldier of love and that my heart is held on together by strips of scotch tape, and Elmer’s glue, and maybe even a little rice because both my parents are of Asian descent.

I used to think it is of conventional chivalry to cushion other people’s blows in a relationship to please them, and that sacrifices of martyrdom manifestations were necessary as part of compromise.

What a shitload of bullshit.

Yeah I can use shit twice. Lol.

(Calming down)

I write this with no bitterness, but with the zeal of having to drive your very own existentialism. A world with no pain is impossible, otherwise you’d never live at all. But, what’s possible is living a life less of it.

“A prick is spontaneous, they’re unpredictable, and fun to be with. We all fall for them. And then we get surprised that they’re pricks.”

Ever wondered how some assholes in your lives just never get the cosmic karma they deserve and no matter how much you curse them, they never die? They can very well be the pricks that live lives better than yours – and you hated them because they weren’t the convention you seek.

Tell me, how is that feud any different from battles in politics, sexual differences, religion, divorce cases, relationships? Etc. Etc.

We’ve always held the peace we so long for. We just don’t see it because we all let others connect ourselves to them.

“Having company makes you happy.” “How many happy moments have you had ALONE?

I never said anything about being in your own cocoon of self banishment. People will always be around to talk to. It really isn’t that bad to be single. I was a fool for believing a partner was all I needed to jumpstart a new beginning since I’ve quit my job.

I just typed this madness unstoppably that the keys on my keyboard have pressed themselves a little further down. (Or maybe not because my keys are kick-ass macintosh. lol) The fogs to the road Im about to take are clear, my man. I think I just re-created my universe. :)

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