Tune: “Change Your Mind” by Sunlounger, featuring Kyler England
Mood: the usual
Drink: Paarl Cape Tawny Port
I was just telling Amber the starting of a ‘story’, but really hesitated because she was in a hurry to go out. I particularly and very specifically hate spewing my thoughts under pressure, but it wasn’t her fault. I wasn’t able to deter from it properly at my current state. However, the purpose of this entry is first and foremostly an entry to apologize to my friends.
I’m sorry for being me.
Of course, many don’t know why I would say that and say there is nothing to be sorry about, but you know what I am talking about. If you don’t…
Some of you know for a fact, what I am talking about or at least, have a hint of it. I wish I can expose my massively and deeply buried thoughts to you, but here is something I said to Amber a few minutes ago, before she left:
it’s almost sad that I have these feelings
inside
deep deep deep inside of me
and it takes so much
just to get them out
When Jon was here a couple of weeks ago, by himself, I should have taken advantage of the situation. Damn it to hell! I should have done what I wanted to do for years. I might not have that chance again and I regret it and no damn it, I wasn’t going to kiss him. AH! FUCK! CRAP! Though I would have him bang my wife, if given the chance… ^_~
Alas, Martine might just tear my head off with her claws of glorious fury!
Anyway, Jason Lau said to me a couple of months ago that I have a job, a family, a house I am paying off, etc, etc, etc. Somehow all this matters. It does of course, but… I feel restless. Lately, I’ve been reacting very furiously towards certain topics.
Heh, even here I cannot say what I really want. Michelle would scold me plenty for not being how I was back in 2006 and 2007. Honestly, I fucking hate this. There is something I want to do, someone I want to be, but there is so much holding me back. Can someone help me? Can someone rescue me from this? I feel as though the entire universe is on my shoulders and damn it, it’s so fucking hard to bare alone.
I am a shell of who I was.
My friends, like my family… Let me rephrase that… No fuck it. You know what I mean. The lot of you are so nice to me, but I am so not nice. I will not make excuses for it, but I just want to say it again: you know you are in my heart constantly. I constantly think about it and replay it in my mind. I utterly appreciate that. You know right? I know my actions these days don’t show much. I want to be strong for everyone, but honestly, I feel broken all over. I feel like a shattered glass vase, being held together by glue and tape.
I cannot be that conquering version of me again. I cannot be that guy who goes out there and fucks around the minds of both women and men, just to entertain Albert, my ego and at times, Jon. I cannot be that guy who spends the entire night, listening to your woes and generously offer my time and energy to you. These days, I need to do this. I know I know… There are people with much worst scenarios and I think about that. I really do. You know I do, but I am not them.
The gray and the silver. Ah, how I remember that one Winter night. Just us three. Damn you guys! DAMN IT!
Patrick told me he hates it when I call him when I become a sad drunk. So I mentally burned that thought into my mind. I am constantly hurting and I have no one to go to. So I rot from the inside.
I feel I am such a bad burden. Before Jon says anything to me in private, just let me say this… Sometimes, I think about what if that car ‘accident’ really killed me on that September morning in 1994… I cannot stand the idea that my parents would be heart broken. I just can’t, but I do think about it.
I know I am a later bloomer. I just wish that my parents can see it beforehand. I know one evening, I will sit there at the docks, overlooking the ocean, calm, as the sun sets calmly and my close friends will be in the house behind me, talking, having fun and I know some of them will wonder where I am. This will bring me a smile, even though I cannot truly hear their thoughts. Only one person ever knew this and of course I will not say it here ever, but when I told him, he smiled. He was the only person I could say only one verse and he knew the entire meaning.
I need more time.
Those that do not know me, has already put a label on me. For the rest of you, don’t disappoint me because I am already so damn disappointed at myself.
It’s not that I want to be left alone. I’ll tell you what Albert thought…
Cheh, did you know that Amber thinks I have a weak character? First person to ever say that to me since I was born. I have a weak heart with a impenetrable barrier.
Albert said to me as we stood there, across from Granville Island at 2 in the morning many years ago, that we see the same things, even if our hearts are in different places. Of course, less words were used. Jon never needed to use words. He was always just the brightest star in my void of a dark sky.
I’m staring at “Leemanism” here. I’ve had this blog for almost 5 years. More than a thousand entries later… Some hidden of course.
No one can rescue me but me. I know, but how nice it would be if I could stop building and refortifying my barriers to this prison castle of mine eh? I want to let you in. I really do. You have no idea, but…
Of course you don’t understand, just like I cannot truly feel what you feel.
I finally understand my parents.
I’m sorry for being me. You deserve better. I COULD have been an engineer, a doctor, a lawyer… But I am not. If I have today’s knowledge and ‘wisdom’ back when I was a teenager, I would NOT disappoint my parents. I will do everything that I HATE to make sure they live a better life. Be a better brother.
I’m only 31. Oops, soon to be 32. Why are you all so nice to me? Huh? I haven’t been around for the last 2 or 3 years. I need whiskey. This Port is starting wear off.
I cannot stand the fact that my brother is out there and he knows stuff. I wish I can adore and love him. I wish I wasn’t so selfish. I wish I THOUGHT about HIS feelings, growing up. Heh, you know?
My heart physically hurts so fucking much. Every day, I LIVE with this. I live with all of these things. BUT of course, my ‘problems’ are nothing compared to others. Of course.
BUT I am not them.
I need someone to talk to. I’m sorry, I just do. I’ve been holding this shit in for about 24 years… Almost 25. I can’t tell you because I am hurting like crazy. Just because I laugh, just because I enjoy hiking and seeing the view, enjoy your company, laugh and smile, I do genuinely and I am strong for my family – I am hurting as if I am constantly being stabbed in my heart. I hold it quite well. Marlon once said, right off the bat, at like 10pm a few years ago, “Lee, you look very tired.” He wasn’t talking about me being physically tired, but emotionally. I am so worn out. I want to rest, but then I think about my dad and think about what he went through and I cry in despair that I am truly and utterly pathetic. Why can’t I be like my father? Why?
He must be so disappointed in me.
Why can’t I be like my father? – You know the answer.
And other than that: Shut up, Lee. I mean it. You have not asked me why I called your character weak. Remember the beginning of ‘us’? The chain reaction, the domino effect? Why in this world do you pity yourself and more important: why do you pity those who are still by your side?
You may not like what I am saying here but I figured that the only way to help you is to ignore your rules and burn down your castle regardless whether you will burn with it or not. Which is a attitude that I got from you.
At every introduction we are faced with the questions – Who am I? Who do I want to portray to the person I‘ve just met. It’s all a little dance, and we all dance to the music we choose.
Identity….No matter what you have said or done can change how we see you as a person. No matter how you dress your identity up or down, we as your friends will still see you as the person you hide from.
Just let go of what you think people expect of you, it’s not your responsibility to make people like you. Just like, you can’t force people to love you. You can only love and expect nothing in return because once you start expecting, you’ll be let down, hurt and will want to change because you think that’s what the person wants.
Pull your finger out your arse and stop feeling sorry for yourself.
The entry was made when I was heavily under the influence of Port. I had about half a bottle of it by the time I started this entry. In fact, I removed this entry, until three of my friends messaged me that it had disappeared. One of them said she had a peek of it a few minutes after I sent that mass email and told me she used to rant a similar way as I did here.
It’s not so much that I feel sorry for myself. If I did, I wouldn’t be able to keep going the way I do.
There are things in this entry that will paint me in a certain way. It’s expected. I haven’t changed particularly for anyone, though towards Amber, I have changed certain aspects, but I’ll get to that in another entry which I started last night.
I enjoyed who I used to be, but I am tired of being this shell of who I was. Indeed, I want to be more for my parents, not that they ask for it, but because I want to be more. My problem is obviously my own mental barriers.
Deep down inside, I’m craving a release, but I am ankle-bound to this life I have put myself into. So I seek out the friendships that can help me get out of my mental rut. Of course, I do it the worst possible way.
Jane mentioned onion layers, as I always did. She said even if she wants to connect with someone, she often finds that she needs someone to peel it away at her. I believe ‘secretly’ and undeniably, we both feel that this shows us just how much we are worth for effort.
Yes, you can say I am arrogant to think like this. I have been like this since I was a toddler. Something in my childhood had set this off – this chain reaction of who I am today.
I spoke with my mom about this a few months ago and you know what she said? She said: “I did not know you felt that way. Why didn’t you tell me when you were a child?”
I smirked and told her how I could possibly tell her, especially at that age. So I grew up with those thought processes in my mind. She later told me that she feels really bad about it and said she would have hugged me more and expressed her love more if she had known. All I did was shook my head and told her she was/is a great mom regardless of how it felt like when I was a child.
I am especially hard on myself, but I DO NOT pity myself. My words when I am drunk would make it seem that way. This is what I mean when people will paint a picture of me, based on the fragmentation of my words. It’s not yours or anyone’s fault, but my own for not being able to release my thoughts solidly. Like I said, if I pitied myself, I would not be able to keep moving forward.
Michelle, remember that time you got mad at me because you felt that I meant that all married women were looking towards me for ‘comfort’, after what I said to you in an email. Then later, you apologized. Well, it’s similar to that idea. You thought one way when reading my entry here, but it’s not even like that.
However, there is one part of your comment here that lit up my eyes a bit: “Will still see you as the person you hide from.”
That is very awesome. The line itself is very very good.
I knew you would slap my wrists for saying that. I know you don’t feel sorry for yourself but jees, lay off the alcohol it’s bad for you.
We all reflect like you are ,it’s like a game.It’s when you get to the end of the game and you look back at the stages,did you collect all the bonuses or simply did you just clear the level to get to the next. The fact is we are all going to die eventually, hopefully not for a very long time. Aging is not just decay,it’s growth. It’s more than the negative that you’re going to die; it’s also the positive that you understand you’re going to die and that you live a better life for it. Gah! What am I trying to say? You only live once so embrace it. Live it for you.
Thanks Michelle.
Yes, I will lay off on the booze. It got me into some trouble last night. /sigh