Pulse

Pulse

I have had at least one other entry with the same name in version 1 of my blog. I actually miss that version of my blog. It was when I was filling it up with a myriad of thoughts – from uber sensitivity and mushiness all the way to brash humor. It really represented me. These days, I’ve mellowed down so much. Yet, I want to speak out and I decide that yet again, I’m holding myself back.

Last night, I engaged in a short conversation with a stranger on MSN who pointed out that I was stupid to let my parents take 75% of my income. That I should have my own life and laughed at me, that I live with my parents. She even pointed out that I have “martyr syndrome”. I told her that many westernized individuals who do not have much strong ties with their families often think of themselves before others. Her way of thinking reminded me of the Republican and anti-Obama ignoramus that are against universal health care. Like my previous entry, humanity might as well die out now as it stands. (Un)Fortunately, I do still care for the little we have – the handful that are dear to me.

Once, I stood at a point where I was really serious about life, that fun was simply not a part of the equation. Nowadays, I almost live out this illusion.

My friends don’t know this but, the only sole substance that keeps me going is that I want to be able to provide for my mom and my dad. Beyond that is beyond me. Of course, I don’t want to repeat the excess, so I’ll leave it at that.

I was ‘angered’ that the stranger said I had “martyr syndrome” because it showed me how cold and how brutally selfish the world is. I do not blame her for anything. No. What I am ‘angered’ about is that she is so shallow minded about life. She is driven by worldly desires, pulled by social protocol. It is at times like this, I wish I can sit down with Mel, over Chinese tea, chess – that I know I will lose but will have fun playing or swing at the playground swings with Jon, talking about the stars, people, connections…

I just miss the nights where I can speak to someone who connected with me deeply. I think, those are the only nights ever, that kept me ‘safe’. I recognize that at my age, this connection no longer can sustain itself. Of course, do not forget though, I do recognize and appreciate that my friends at their distances do think of me from time to time and are there to hear me out, but realistically speaking, I know that you all have your own lives to tend to. I am secondary.

This is reality. I am being realistic. We all have our woes, worries, issues. My own are simply my own. I deal with it.

Right now, it is 1:32am. I went downstairs, hoping to find another can of beer. Alas, my dad took it. I found a small bottle of Bacardi rum, but decided not to open it. I even considered texting Jason to see if he would be up and go out for a drink, but of course, I didn’t text him.

It kind of sucks being 30 and not having that sort of freedom. Watch me say that exact same thing at 50.

I am not going to make $100,000 in one go ever in this lifetime. I want to open up my Johnny Walker Gold Label to ‘liberate’ my feelings at the moment. Yet, what is the real motivation?

For a time, I was email corresponding with a girl whom was willing to eventually become my confidant. Unfortunately, after finding out that she is well in-tuned with her Christian ‘faith’, I knew it was impossible for us to connect deeper. She is restricted by the limitations of her religion and simply not opened to the universe beyond human-induced ideals. Indeed, she reminds me of Laura which I do hold dear to, but her religion is that obstacle. To me, her ‘God’ is the obstruction to the unity and growth of humanity. My mind flows beyond that. Her ‘God’ is a ‘being’, an ideal, a system that means the end of her thoughts. My thoughts continue to flow endlessly.

I will probably continue to correspond with her, but she will not be my confidant. I require someone who will extend herself beyond the limitations of human-induced ideals. Someone who can apply herself as a speckle in the ‘infinite’ span of the universe and all the dimensions beyond that.

I’m sure, the anonymous readers will see me as condescending. That is the narrow perception they have because 1) they absolutely have no connection with me and 2) they are bounded by their own limited view of the tiny world in which they interact with. I may very well be a God to them, yet absolutely detest me since I am a living human. Though I recognize and can grasp personal logic, I cannot stand and accept anything that counter basic ethics.

Anyway, I’m totally off-track.

So many people want to see others suffer, reflective of their own suffering. Yet, I want to see others achieve, unite, bond, progress because that is truly what I want, even if I ‘suffer’ at my own expense.

I believe that a janitor should be paid as much as an accountant. Obviously, an accountant goes through years of schooling and work experience, but that is the ‘prestige’ s/he desires. A tie, a shirt, a dress – business attire, going to meetings with large firms, handling millions of dollars. That is the life they want and they get paid for it. However, who’s willing to clean up shit? Who’s willing to clean up the massive barf-fest some idiot left behind? Who’s willing to walk around a huge park collecting garbage bits? Indeed, you don’t need a lot of post-secondary education and work experience. No, but you need a lot of willingness to do shit work. Therefore, I believe garbage collectors, janitors and people who work in such environments should get paid a decent wage with benefits. While an accountant, a lawyer, a business person of sorts gets to wear a suit and work under a ‘prestiges’ bullshit name, the garbage collector and janitor has to work in a crappy environment. They are extremes of each other and they both should be paid decent wages.

Now, I am totally off topic. Which ends this entry because I have ran out of booze.

3 Replies to “Pulse”

  1. Hey if you’re in pain, you should try some nitrous oxide or morphine =P

    Joking aside, although, I’m terrible with words, I’m always there for ya man. I’ll sit with ya in the rain and not say a word to help you but that’s all I can give, presence… sorry I can’t give ya anything deeper than that.

    Oh… I also have Tylenol 3’s but I hear that makes you constipated. [runs to down some metamucil…]

  2. That is the picture of my dad in his early 30’s holding me up and giving me a kiss.

    I am not a good son. Indeed, I do not seek acceptance from anyone by myself.

    I am just driven… No, I just merely remember things from my youthful past. I have failed my father, but most of all, the hardships my mother has faced. She does not deserve them.

    I would trade an infinity of a miserable life for 90 years of comfort and happiness for my mom and my dad.

    Is there a genie that would grant me that wish?

  3. I’d like to sit and drink Chinese tea with you but I am not a good chess player at all.

    I do not know of any good or bad sons. I know there are sons. I don’t know of any good or bad men either, just men.

    If all time and life experience is simultaneous, If all possibilities exist all at once, If the past and future are being all experienced NOW— there would be no need for a genie.

    It’s possible we (myself, you, your friends and family) are all experiencing what we’ve asked for (of the genie).

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