Mon, 30 May 2005

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nowhere but nowhere

Currently Playing: "As Long as I Can Dream" by Expose Mood: generalize dissatisfaction with the universe at large

The only time I felt at peace during this weekend was (1) when I was asleep (and they were sleep periods of epic proportions—I do not doubt that I slept more on the three days of the long weekend than I have in the two weeks preceding) and (2) when I was in transit.

These days, it seems that nothing makes me happier than being unconscious, and barring that, barrelling down a 12-lane freeway at 90 mph.

I seriously need a vacation. I need to go somewhere where no one can bother me, where I can just brood on my own, and, as usual, stare at the sea.

I really don't understand why I let my mind get totally fried like this.

22:49:32 30 May 2005 > /soul > permalink > 0 comments

Fri, 27 May 2005

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pause

I sunk into a depressive mood this afternoon. Maybe it's just adrenalitis or something. All of the sudden I was exhausted despite it not being a strenuous day at all. The stress of the past 11 months, especially of the last four, has finally caught up to me, and, frankly, I want nothing more than to pass out saturated by tequila catching some sunlight on the beach.

I had a bizarre epiphany while listening to my iPod as I drove home from work: I am probably going to die John the Baptist-style (figuratively speaking) with my head on a silver platter.

(Yes my mind is truly arcane. I have long equated dying like John the Baptist with dying lonely and insane.)

The Playlist of the Damned:

  1. Green Day and Oasis mixed by Vin Vicious "Wonderwall of Broken Drams"
  2. Sarah McLachlan "World on Fire (Marius De Vries Mix)"
  3. Norah Jones "Shoot the Moon"
  4. Ben Folds Five "Don't Change Your Plans for Me"

I walk a lonely road The only one that I have ever known Don't know where it goes But it's home to me and I walk alone

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

And all the roads that lead to you were winding And all the lights that light the way are blinding There are many things that I would like to say to you but I don't know how

And maybe You're gonna be the one that saves me…

The world's on fire and It's more than I can handle I'll tap into the water (I try to pull my ship) I try to bring more More than I can handle (Bring it to the table) Bring what I am able

I watch the heavens and I find a calling Something I can do to change this moment Stay close to me while the sky is falling Don't wanna be left alone, don't wanna be alone

The summer days are gone too soon You shoot the moon And miss completely And now you're left to face the gloom

Will you think of times you've told me That you knew the reason? Why we had to each be lonely It was just the season

Sometimes I get the feeling that I won't be on this planet for very long I really like it here I'm quite attached to it; I hope I'm wrong

All I really want to say You're the reason I want to stay But destiny is calling And I told them when my time is up I'm out of here

No dying in my sleep for me. No one to mourn my burnt up corpse, neither.

Why do I dwell on these things?

That's all there is, there ain't no mo'

19:48:08 27 May 2005 > /soul > permalink > 6 comments

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little brown fucking machines

JRM forwards me an interesting read.

The following e-mail is reproduced under provisions of fair use as protected by existing copyright law.

From: henrico galvez <e-mail address redacted> Date: May 27, 2005 12:02:25 AM PDT To: webmaster@magandamagazine.org Subject: READ this…

just saw your recent publications...I couldn't understand, why you people keep on repeating this "little brown fucking machines" term,, what is your bloody objective? Anything that is ugly is best FOUND A SOLUTION and rarely brought GLARINGLY in pinoy's faces.You don't hear black people constantly talk about slavery do you?You people have totally missed the boat,you use artistic expression as an excuse when out of ignorance and naivete, you're causing more DAMAGE than you can imagine.The government of the Philippines need to change it's policies concerning the trafficking and tretment of it's citizens.But your CONSTANT repetition of these UGLY terms serves no purpose, at best for non-filipinos who seem not to know anything about this and a non-bias look at Filipinos, is now destroyed thanx to your too much ROMANTICIZATION of being an activist kuno.You like to harp on these ugly terms but the actual people who should be MOVED by this[the Phil. government] has heard this a million times and apparently don't give a shit. So who are we destroying? NObody but ourselves.I couldn't figure out why seemingly educated students who went to Berkely would be so bloody excited to keep on repeating this ugly terms, and for what? To educate the white world, you people who's priority in life is to marry the next caucasian guy/gal who comes your way, who are we fooling here.The problem with you people is that in every art form that you produce, it's always the VICTIMS LANGUAGE that you employ.You ROMANTICIZE your ACTIVISM BUT THEN when you all turn around,walking proudly with your white boyfriends and girlfriends, AS IF you've bagged a treasure.You damn INFERIOR, PATHETIC maggot, no wonder nobody gives you any respect.You keep on proclaiming these ugly terms to the world, you express your hatred for it and to the dominant culture which you perceived to have EXPLOITED you, and finally foaming at the mouth to have a relationship with these bastards.YOU PEOPLE ARE A PATHETIC, BREED OF PEOPLE,mONGRELS WHO ARE NAIVE AND IGNORANT.Stop playing the victims language, and ingrain what nIETZCHE CALLS "will to power",Of course, you wouldn't know anything about that would you?In the meantime let's keep coming-up with all this 3rd world/ "I am a victim, boo-hoo hoo,/ hate the dominant culture who exploited you, sensibilities, and pass it as art too, an INFERIOR FORM OF ART THAT IS.And proudly walk with your bagged white girl/boyfriends.You people are ignorant maggots....Pathetic!!!!Your activism does more damage than good, when you're not doing anything...Read a book, so you can put some real knowledge in your cocunuts, instead of ROMANTICIZING activism....

Now, given my profession, the first thing my mind gloms onto is the level of pathology in this e-mail. As someone who occasionally takes care of those who have been abused—I've been involved in the care of people involved in child abuse and elder abuse as well as in domestic violence cases—it is heart-rending and not a little bewildering to see the same theme repeated over and over again. These people are caught in very ugly and awful situations, and what many of them end up doing is denying that the ugliness and awfulness of their situation exists. Some people even destructively channel their rage against others, thinking that their acts of violence are a sign of their strength, rather than just another symptom of denial. And, not infrequently, they strike at people who are trying to help them, and perversely often times protect the very people who are abusing them.

What we have here is this kind of pathology on a sociological scale.

I don't know how other progressive-thinking Filipinos feel about this, but I've pretty much accepted the notion that Filipino culture is the product of abuse on the nation-state level, a culture that has been repeatedly humiliated and violated, and is now riddled with emotional trauma and widespread mental pathology, having been at the mercy of several imperial regimes—the Spanish, the Americans, the Japanese. And consequently, a lot of sociological phenomenon can be traced back to a peculiar self-loathing mingled with self-esteem, and a bizarre hatred of the oppressor despite admiring their qualities. And then there is the splitting behavior: things are either bad or good, but there is no in-between.

Some people I've talked to have cast the behavior of pretending that nothing bad is happening as a cultural trait of Filipinos. I see it merely as a culture-wide expression of post-traumatic stress disorder.

Then again, the writer has a point with regard to the fact that dwelling on and wallowing in victimization is not helpful. The point of realizing that I am a victim is not so I can lie around pathetic and waiting for someone else to help me. The point of realizing I am a victim is so that I can ascribe blame for my circumstances not to myself, which many people of abuse tend to do, but to the rightful party. To put it in concrete, simplistic terms, if I have no money because someone robbed me, then I shouldn't get bogged down in self-blame and kick myself for getting robbed. Rather, I will have to go after the robber one way or the other. And when people notice the fact that I have no money and deride me for it, I can justifiably tell them to fuck themselves, I was robbed. I'm certainly not asking these asshats for pity, but they've got to recognize that I didn't get to this low spot by my own design. To use the analogy the writer introduced, black people do not bring up slavery again and again to tear down their own people. The reason they point it out is for all those asshat white people who think that black people did this to themselves. What black people are saying when they point to slavery is that, wherever they are, even if it is at this low point, it isn't like they tried to get there on purpose. Someone (notably white slaveowners) brought them down to this point, and to blame them for their state is plainly bullshit.

But, yeah, on a personal level, nothing pisses me off more about some Filipinos than the urge to cover shit up, to make believe that everything is all right, and all we need to do is pray to God to obviate the fact that, culturally speaking, we have all been violated. I saw this all the time when I was a kid. My aunts and uncles would deny their plainly existing bastard children, would deny infidelity and straight up sexual perversion, would deny addiction, would deny that their children were gang-members and drug-abusers. They have a word for this in the DSM-IV. It is called delusional disorder and it is one symptom of psychosis. And as far as I'm concerned, it's rampant in Filipino culture.

And (you knew I was gonna pull this in somehow) this is all made manifest in the curious cultural phenomenon known as PCN. Pilipino Cultural Night. All these stereotypes are made replete, and in typical borderline fashion, things are either metaphorically airbrushed or are stylized so as to be caricatures. While the younger generations are less apt to deep-throat and swallow the Ferdinand-and-Imelda-like notion of "one big happy family," neither are many of us willing to deal with the sharp, barbed complexities of being a member of a diasporic culture caught within the interstices of American Civil Rights Movement and the general anti-neoliberal global revolution. Despite never being able to fit in with the retro 1950s, McCarthy-era white suburban utopia, some of us are nonetheless loth to accept the dissolution of nation-states, the decreasing importance of tradition, and the general trend towards anarchy (and I mean the ideal anarchy posited by the Greeks) and away from central government.

Which brings me back to a thesis that I frequently ponder. We belong to culture that the conquerors have tried hard to erase. Notice how little Americans know about the Philippines, this despite the fact that the Philippines was an American colony for 50 years (and, in reality, longer than that, given the Cold War and the military presence in Subic) How almost no one learns about the Filipino-American War. About how Americans massacred up to a million Filipinos, including women and children, during this war. About how the Filipinos already had a tradition of democracy and freedom prior to the arrival of the Americans, how Aguinaldo was about to defeat the Spaniards, but that it was the Americans who finally prevented us from obtaining independence.

Instead, what do they know? Like it or not, you type in "filipino" in Google, and a lot of those hits are going to point to porno sites or mail-order bride sites.

But seriously, are we really going to try to repress this shit? What for? So we can live our delusional lives and pretend that our culture was never abused and humiliated?

But the reason why I think this becomes key is because the process is repeating itself in Iraq. Halliburton et al are busy literally razing the terrain and attempted to Americanize their society, and, while it is bound to fail, I would not be surprised to see Iraqi culture turn out similarly to Filipino culture. A culture designed by committee, with all the "ugly" parts elided, made to please the white-bread minds of corporatist America.

Seriously, though, I think it is key to accept the fact that we are part of a defeated, colonized culture. We are not the conqueror hegemons, folks. We are not the Empire. We are the Resistance. There is a lot more honor in accepting what we are rather than pretending to be what we are not.

But from the didactic side of things: if you are willing to reject the Bawlderized, Bayanihanized, Marcosized version of Filipino history and are willing to learn even all the ugly parts, then you will be one step closer to understanding how the global new world order works. It ain't a pretty place. There is oppression and exploitation everywhere. But recognize that our job in the Resistance is not to make the world a pretty place. It is to rid the world of oppression and exploitation, one step at a time.

I'm not trying to be militant here. I'm trying to be realistic. In my profession, you can't get away with just treating the symptoms of disease. It's not enough to just make someone feel better. You've got to treat the disease itself, and that means first diagnosing the disease and accepting that it is there and then going after it, in which case sometimes you have to cause pain before you can start the healing. Sounds cliched, I know, but this is kind of the essence of good medicine.

But if you're not going to treat the disease, if all you're going to do is mask the symptoms and pretend the disease isn't there, then you might as well just be masturbating.

18:21:39 27 May 2005 > /via-trails > permalink > 61 comments

Mon, 23 May 2005

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m83 "gone"

In some ways, I am careening off the edge of sanity.

I wasn't the only one alone in the restaurant that evening. Another gentleman who looked quite inebriated sat across from me, looking harried and upset. Me at a later stage of illness, perhaps, if I let this kind of thing spiral out of control. Right now it is in its subacute phase. The EKG looks abnormal, but my vital signs are still stable.

I drove randomly to Coronado today. Naturally, the place I wanted to eat at was closed. So I wandered around the nearby bookstore, checking out a cute girl out of the corner of my eye.

After that, I jetted back to Mission Valley and got something to eat. And drink.

As far as consequences go, I am at that point where my answer to everything is "I don't care."

I am not exactly at the apex of my mental health.

So I threw down $100 at the Borders, searching for enlightenment between the lines. It continues to elude me, of course.

I think maybe that I've stopped making sense a long time ago.

Or perhaps I've never made any sense.

If I can only manage to hold my shit together for another three days. Now that's a big "if."

Fuck.

22:36:12 23 May 2005 > /playlist > permalink > 2 comments

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soy un perdidor

I have been cursed with two virulent pathologies that plague me to this day. One is the perverse belief that all emotion is not meant to be expressed ad lib. Passion should be channeled, in controlled burns, outside the confines of civilization. The other is the bizarre idea that if someone is abusing me, I should not abuse them back, because after all, I am much better than they are.

I've noted this before, way in my adolescence. I have a superiority complex that makes me feel inferior.

So here I am taking shit that I don't deserve and keeping my mouth shut.

My pathology runs so deep that I can't even enjoy fantasizing about killing my tormenters. Deep down inside I realize that I won't feel any better plunging a sharp object into my enemy's chest. All vengeance is fleeting, and the accomplishment of such will therefore be joyless and not worth undertaking. Or, to put it less convolutedly, my time is better spent in other ways instead of dealing with this bullshit.

Of course, as is predictable, my voluntary repression sometimes leads to violent and perhaps even psychotic acts. I recognize that these unhealthy behaviors essentially turn me into a ticking time bomb.

In fact, I can look back upon my most recent regrets and find that they were all precipitated by taking too much shit stolidly and then losing it and going nuts in the end.

This path leads to the insane asylum, or to prison. One of these days I'm just going to go for some poor bastard's jugular, and God only knows what sort of mess that'll land me.


So I am currently busy getting myself drunk. I don't know why, I just can't think of anything better to do. I have nearly finished an entire bottle of Pinot Noir by myself. Ah, Pinot Noir.

I find it disturbing that two women have noticed that the character Miles from the movie Sideways reminds them of me. To put it tersely, I suppose they can recognize the patheticness and desperation. On a somewhat related note, two different women have also told me that I remind them of Sidney Carton, the sad, pothetic creature from A Tale of Two Cities. I think I like that comparison a tad better. Carton is, in fact, a loser who eventually decides to commit suicide in a convoluted manner—obsessed with a woman whom he never had chance with. (The whole A+E situation springs to mind. I would likely put my head on the chopping block for her happiness, but I'm not in a rush to test that hypothesis out.)

But what intrigues me about Carton is the idea of squandered potential. Like I wonder if I should've already won a Nobel Prize if I didn't have to deal with my perverse psychological nature. Who knows what sorts of triumphs I would've accomplished with my brain if I hadn't been mired for all these years in major depressive disorder?

A part of me is wondering if I think too highly of my intellectual capabilities.

So I'm pretty blasted on some cheap-ass Pinot Noir. I can barely see straight. I should come into work drunk, or at least hung-over. My ass-hat supervisor will just have to deal.

00:24:00 23 May 2005 > /soul > permalink > 1 comments

Fri, 20 May 2005

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staring at the sea…

…staring at the sand staring at myself reflected in the eyes of the dead man on the beach the dead man on the beach
I'm alive I'm dead I'm the stranger
You scored as Albert Camus. You are Albert Camus, so you are one sweet existentialist. He built largely upon the framework of existentialists before him, but introduced the concept that life is absurd, but that we should continue living anyway. You have strong liberal leanings, although you annoy the Communists. You are susceptible to driving fast, and possibly crashing into a tree.

Albert Camus

82%

Martin Heidegger

71%

Jean-Paul Sartre

61%

Friedrich Nietzsche

50%

Soren Kierkegaard

43%

Not An Existentialist

43%

Which Existentialist Philosopher Are You?
created with QuizFarm.com

This comes as no surprise.

But it doesn't mean anything.

05:36:22 20 May 2005 > /blog-bites > permalink > 5 comments

Thu, 19 May 2005

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in a galaxy far, far away

there was a point yesterday when I contemplated driving all the way to L.A. so I could watch Revenge of the Sith, but I am still traumatized by The Phantom Menace (what a dumbass title!) and I can't stand the fact that Hayden Christiansen is a major gimp, and that they digitally stuck him into Return of the Jedi. Still, despite Lucas' recent asshattishness, he managed to redeem himself somewhat to me (there is still some good in him, I can feel it…) by making explicit the parallels between the Star Wars Saga and the neocon usurpation of the American Government. I would not be surprised if George W Bush revealed himself to be a dastardly mastermind able to shoot lightning from his fingertips, despite his apparent substandard IQ.

anyway, I'm probably going to watch Revenge of the Sith sometime soon (anyone want to watch it with me so I don't look like a big loser going to watch it by myself? Thought not) and so I'd like to point out this:

05:35:23 19 May 2005 > /blog-bites > permalink > 7 comments

Wed, 11 May 2005

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what you do for love

The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to those who are unbridled, untrammeled, and free.
In love, you feel the most alive when your lover is creative and never lets you feel bored.
You'd like to your lover to think you are stylish and alluring.
You would be forced to break up with someone who was insecure and in constant need of reassurance.
Your ideal relationship is lasting. You want a relationship that looks to the future... one you can grow with.
Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment.
You think of marriage as something that will confine you. You are afraid of marriage.
In this moment, you think of love as something you thirst for. You'll do anything for love, but you won't fall for it easily.
What Are The Keys To Your Heart?

19:34:30 11 May 2005 > /blog-bites > permalink > 10 comments

Sat, 07 May 2005

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scattered and remote

Something as innocuous as a touch on the shoulder… "We missed you the other day." words and gestures that I want to take out of context, to launch me off in a daydream, hopelessly fantastic wishes.

Trying to latch on to some meaning.

I have learned that it is like reaching for wisps of cloud, stray glinting rays of starlight, fireflies.

Like trying to dance on water.


So I milled around the supermarket today during the witching hour, when only the weirdos, the drunks, and the college students are whiling away their time wandering aimlessly through the aisles. My main task was to procure some soap. I had run out of some very basic material and desperately needed to replenish.

Strikingly, I was treated to two versions of "Breathe," one by Melissa Etheridge and one by Greenwheel, and then Kelly's Clarkson's hit single "Since U Been Gone" One wonders if one of the workers at the supermarket was disgruntled with his or her romantic fortunes.

I could relate.

But I guess it is more elemental than all that. The fact of the matter is that a human being is a social organism, and for me to eschew interaction with other people is ultimately self-destructive and probably eventually fatal. Without others to help me with my self-definition, I wander around in a sea of meaninglessness. A solipsistic fog. An existential mire.

You think about it hard enough and you come to the question of "why am I bothering with all this crap?" and then you can't come up with an answer, and without other people around, it becomes increasingly logical to end it all.

(Don't worry, this is not a cry for help. I swear that I am not actively suicidal right now. Trust me.)

But I cannot touch them. I don't even know how to approach. How to tell someone something as ridiculously simple and guileless as the fact that seeing them in the morning makes me smile, makes me content, even though I know that I've got a whelk's chance in a supernova. That's all, nothing else. It doesn't mean anything more than what I understand.

I don't know.

This is clearly the delirium of the early morning.

Thank God for psychotropic medication.

00:56:14 7 May 2005 > /soul > permalink > 5 comments

Fri, 06 May 2005

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postmodern and transhuman

You scored as Postmodernist. Postmodernism is the belief in complete open interpretation. You see the universe as a collection of information with varying ways of putting it together. There is no absolute truth for you; even the most hardened facts are open to interpretation. Meaning relies on context and even the language you use to describe things should be subject to analysis.

Postmodernist

75%

Idealist

69%

Existentialist

63%

Materialist

63%

Modernist

56%

Cultural Creative

50%

Romanticist

25%

Fundamentalist

0%

What is Your World View?
created with QuizFarm.com

from Gura's blog. I knew I should've been an English major. Or, more likely, comparative literature.

18:09:27 6 May 2005 > /blog-bites > permalink > 4 comments

Tue, 03 May 2005

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against all odds

For some stupid reason, I have Phil Collins in my head. Wonderful.

Of course, there's the cover version by The Postal Service which I find entertaining.

I can't go to sleep because of the acidic feeling in my stomach. I had fallen asleep at a ridiculously early hour, but this pain has woken me up. And, now awake, it's gotten me thinking, and as usual, one thought has led to another.

I am thinking that maybe my sudden feelings of loneliness are more symptoms rather than an actual disease process. I think that it is merely a manifestation of my stress, as I hang on dearly, trying to make it through these last few weeks of my intern year.

It is always darkest in the last hour before dawn. Or so the saying goes.

The thing that keeps me going is the notion that things are supposed to change for the better once I get past this madness.

00:58:34 3 May 2005 > /soul > permalink > 4 comments

Mon, 02 May 2005

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what are words for? (before the tangent)

OK, I got distracted there from what I was trying to say. The reason why I scraped this fragmented lyric from the inside of my brain is because I am musing on something a girl once wrote me, a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

Even then you had that sweet, special smile…

…when I didn't even think she knew who I was. Although I don't know what she would think if she knew that I had been attracted to her from the start. I remember seeing her, hanging out with mutual friends, and I remember having to catch my breath.

And of course my usual lack of self-esteem fell upon me with a vengeance. Clearly out of my league. Once again I long for what I cannot have.


Ah, the strange paths that my life has taken.

Nearly a decade since, and I haven't really made any progress in terms of overcoming my inability to trust other people. Well, either that, or I am simply unloveable and worthless, but we all know what a vortex of despair that would lead us down. As I've said before, believing such things is ultimately incompatible with life.

What I am really left with are these thoughts, which are evoked everytime I see the Sea, and those mysterious islands just on the horizon.

Just call me the Dread Pirate Roberts.

19:29:36 2 May 2005 > /soul > permalink > 0 comments

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GNOME 2.10.1 build order

updates revised 28 June 2005

GNOME 2.10.1 was released on April 17

  1. glib 2.6.4
  2. atk 1.9.1
  3. pango 1.8.1
  4. gtk+ 2.6.7
  5. at-spi 1.6.3
  6. libart2 2.3.17
  7. libglade 2.5.1
  8. libgnomecanvas 2.10.2
  9. gail 1.8.3
  10. libIDL 0.8.5
  11. ORBit 2.12.2
  12. libbonobo 2.8.1
  13. libgnomecups 0.2
  14. libgnomeprint 2.10.3
  15. libgnomeprintui 2.10.2
  16. gconf 2.10.0
  17. gnome-mime-data-2.4.2
  18. howl 0.9.10
  19. gnome-vfs 2.10.1
  20. audiofile 0.2.6
  21. esound 0.2.35
  22. libgnome 2.10.0
  23. libbonoboui 2.8.1
  24. libgnomeui 2.9.1
*
patch file modified

18:27:38 2 May 2005 > /computers/gnome > permalink > 0 comments

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what are words for?

(if you are a child of the '80's, and/or a fan the erstwhile Flashback Lunch on KROQ with Richard Blade, you will recognize that the title of this blog entry is stolen from some song lyrics.)

I talked with M today about the difficulties of relationships, the snafus with communicating emotions and expectations, the drawing of boundaries, the marking off of categories, even the finely split nomenclature of types of relationships. I really all sounds obscenely absurd, and yet, despite being out of the Game, so to speak, for a long while, I completely understand.

now I have been easily ignoring the lack of female, well, actually, just human companionship in my life these days, except for work. as I have bitched and moaned repeatedly, my life is all about work these days. which is a convenient excuse for why I'm not going out and meeting people.

but I know that's not the real reason. the real reason is that I am deathly afraid to let my guard down. I mean, I'm not a complete hermetic isolate, I do joke around with my co-workers and I do go out once in a while for non-work related activities, but I know that I am probably eons away from being able to trust one single person with the cobweb thin fragility of my ego.

Right now, I don't know. I like my weltanschaung the way it is. I kind of gibber at the idea of allowing someone into my life, and letting her rearrange all the metaphoric furniture. and yet to look upon the ensuing decades and imagine them completely unchanging, with me here alone, doing the same thing day in and day out, devoting myself to work entirely. there is something painfully and disasterously sterile about that. I'm not quite sure I want to make that decision, to let myself float off into the cosmos unchanging, merely decaying, instead of letting someone else touch my soul. to take a chance and let someone else change me, make me more than I already am.

There is that damnable question:

What if?

but, more ponderous pondering to follow…

11:23:48 2 May 2005 > /soul > permalink > 5 comments

Sun, 01 May 2005

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chicago really is my kind of town

American Cities That Best Fit You:

80% Chicago
70% Philadelphia
65% Los Angeles
60% Honolulu
60% New York City
Which American Cities Best Fit You?

found on my sister's Xanga

It's interesting that Philly ranks so high. I've been there once, and I was not particularly impressed, but then again that was like fifteen years ago. Honolulu, I've never been to, unless you count stopping over at an airport. If it weren't so damn expensive…

13:30:50 1 May 2005 > /blog-bites > permalink > 5 comments