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My Desire To Rescue Her From My Dream

8:18pm

…so I can try to rescue her this time.

[“Yearning” – Mono]

Yes, the dream has been bugging me. You know… Now thinking back on the dream, even though Cindy was a total bitch and a 2-two face immoral semi-slut in real life, in my dream, I wish that whatever force powered my dream, that it took Cindy away from there, just take her to shore at least so she can walk home or something. I rather it was I who got stuck in there. I cannot never imagine anyone being left behind, except for myself. Everyone in the world can abandon me, but I cannot do that to anyone. Not even her.

The least I could do is try to re-dream this one again, and this time, make sure to take her out of there before anything. I can always control a bit of my dreams. When my parents appeared and quickly disappeared, that was probably my sub-consciousness that ‘rescued’ them, and of course Ed and Edmond.

I just can’t swallow the fact that I left her behind in my dream. I know how dark and scary that place was. Being alone, not knowing what will happen, getting stuck, everyone gone. I know exactly how that feels. Since I know how that feels, I also will never want any of my loved ones and former-loved ones to be abandoned for any reason.

Throughout my entire time with Cindy, and even after we broke up this final time, I’ve had dreams where a situation arose where my friends and my family were stuck somewhere with me, in a ruined building, a cave, or some sort of enclosed structure. The only way to secure the well-being of everyone, was to run down a dangerous street full or snipers, or run into the darkness, unknown what it may hide, etc, to press some sort of button that will release the gates or create a way for everyone to escape.

Before Cindy came into my life, I already had these dreams, and I always gave my friends and family a last smile, and when no one was ‘expecting’ it, I always gunned it – ran away suddenly to try to press that button at the end of the street, or pull the lever at the end of the dark cave or hallway to save everyone. I never save myself in those dreams, and I always end up being trapped. The strange thing is, those dreams always end with me finding my way out, wandering the world, and finding things on my own, then many years later, decades probably; I go home to find people who had leads to the whereabouts of my family and friends. Then the last stretch of my journey begins there to find them.

When Cindy entered my life, and we had our ups and downs, etc, she was included in those dreams. In every single one of those dreams, I managed to rescue everyone. I’ve had a few dozen of those dreams. I didn’t escape myself, but I was happy that everyone survived.

This morning when I had that particular dream, it greatly disturbed me. Cindy was left behind. I just can’t get that out of my mind.

A few journal entries ago, I mentioned something about rather “this” happen than “that” happen. For those who remember, I was actually talking about a question I asked at DC.org awhile back – “Would it be more difficult for you to lose a loved one to someone else, or to death?”

You know what? No matter how much it pains me, I rather lose her to someone else, than to lose her to death. Yes, in death, if her emotions were there for me, it would be very tormenting for me, but if that was the case, I would rather Heaven take my life than her’s. You see, she said something a few months ago when we watched Beloved (starring Oprah Winfrey), that she would abandon her ghost daughter and let go of intangible pasts. That didn’t shock me nor surprise me, but it did tell me that she had very little heart and compassion. You see, if Heaven took my life, Cindy would have easily jumped to another man. Where as if she had died, I would most likely spend the rest of my life visiting her grave at least once or twice a week until the day my time comes to fade.

That is the biggest difference, is that I hold onto history very sentimentally, where as she just leap frogs.

My mom once compared my brother to me. She said that my brother doesn’t think much about the past, that he doesn’t try to remember things except for birthdays and anniversaries. As this was fact, my mom said that brother is quite cold according to reaching out to people. He may be friendly, but he has no sentimental attachment to history. On the other hand she said, I remember many things from my past – far past and near past. She said that I remember all the big things and the little things, and that I try to remember all the things people say to me. She also mentioned that I tend to remember all the things people have done for me and towards me.

Her concept was that because of this ability/talent, though my most negative trait that relates to these things is my long fermenting vengeance for those whom have wronged me, the balancing factor for that super concentrated vengeance is my massive sentimental compassion for those who have been there for me, who had aided me in times of need, for those who have been there with me, who had helped me craft my past and future. It’s nice that my mom can recognize some parts of my life. I wish she can do this all the time…

I know that Cindy is immoral, that her friends like Donna probably thinks I blame Cindy for everything, but in reality, I am sure I have a few things to go on that made this relationship not work, but the majority of the problems rose from her. I rarely point my fingers at someone else for failures associated with me, but this is one exception.

Do you know why we could not be friends? Every time we broke up, Cindy wanted me to continue as her friend. I told her before we dated and just before we broke up each time that I cannot do that. Especially with her. You see, none of her friends and family know what REALLY happened. Since Cindy never told them the truth, I am stuck with all these accusations. How can I continue to be friends with her, when she has been so questionable, so two-faced, so immoral, so unethical towards me?

Did you know when we had our last fuck on March 25th, as we were getting her aroused, she asked me a fucking immoral question. She asked, “Would this be considered cheating since I’ve been thinking about Nelson?” I laughed because of her immorality. How so?

When she told me that she and Christopher Shum kissed the night after our 2nd break-up, she and I were having a lot of sex afterwards, and during that entire time, she had kissed him more than once. On top of that, she had made out with a lesbian a few times. IF I HAD KNOWN ALL OF THAT, I wouldn’t have slept with her. I slept with her because I still loved her.

Fuck.

Anyway, I’m sorry for bringing her up again. It’s just that, whether she is a slut or not, she once was my girlfriend, someone I deeply cared about. She doesn’t deserve my protection and my love, or anything from me but the worst, but I cannot bring myself to abandon her, though she would abandon me in an instance. Yeah she said I was a fighter and Nelson Kwok is a lover. Well, lovers don’t survive very long in a way-torned battlefield. Since I’ve gone to battle with greater foes and gained quite a bit of concentrated experience, I believe that she and her lover should be extremely wary of how and where to tread in their futures.

I may not abandon anyone, but I may react on past emotions lingering…

Oops… 8/

NO MORE! AYA!

8:48pm

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There is no left wing or right wing specific ideals here. It is as life should be regardless of society's squabbles and disagreements. I never said I strive to be a good person, nor did I ever say I will deliberately do people harm. I only said that I will do what needs to be done to survive in the world. The end doesn't always justify the means and the means don't always justify the end.

People from all shades of the political and social spectrum will find my content offensive. So my blog isn't for most people. It's for people closer to my spectrum of recognition and understanding. If you are an easily triggered reactionary conservative snowflake, then kindly fuck off. If you are an obnoxiously phoney liberal that consider yourself progressive but actually limit yourself to the matchbox-sized confinements of your isms, then go choke on your own crying snot juice elsewhere. You have been warned.

For the rest of you, welcome to my immodest abode. It's not smart, nor intelligent, nor wise. It's just life.