I really make vague entries?

I got propositioned quite a few days ago. I danced, skilfully around the subject matter, till I got questioned about my status. I announced to her that I was single, but not interested as always. My house-mate was within earshot, he strode over and pulled me over to the side. He began to question me and I ignored all his questions. He finally just asked when it happened, I was hesitant but I answered his question with “last Thursday.” It was surreal as I watched the dejection wash across his face. I can only imagine what I must have looked like for the past week. He started with his advice giving, which I cannot fault him for, he is after all a friend. He told me I needed to buy her flowers and attach a note saying how much I really do need her. While it sounds like a good idea, it was an option I had already thought about before hand. I explained to him, that she knows that I love her more than anything else. Truthfully, I do not see how flowers would be helpful. There is nothing they would show her, that she does not already know. Our relationship was complicated, and not in the negative ways. There just happened to be one hitch from the start, a problem neither of us could help. Do not presume that I would not want her back. I have never wanted anything more in my whole damn life. I do however have to be prepared for the possibility that she might not be returning to me. What I found a tad absurd was that no less than five minutes after telling me what to do about my situation, he mentions that I should “hook up” with this (not so) random chick. I could do naught but stare in disbelief. He kept asking why, I would not even bother with it, and I responded saying, “You find her appealing and wholesome, not me.” His verdict on that was that, I like to torture myself and what I need to do is find a buffer, whenever things went salty like they just had. “A buffer” he said. I repeat, “a buffer”. He wants me to sleep with someone else, to soften the blow before I get to the next woman or something along those lines. The fact that he could even begin to say something in that manner, made my brain begin to erupt. It was something that would not compute. I wanted to shiv my brain at the lunacy of his thoughts. In the end, I just walked away, there was nothing more I would let him say about the issue.

I joined a group of musicians two Saturdays ago. Pretty much most of my mornings after tea, paper and a couple of chapters, has been devoted to them. The amount of talent that drips off these people is insane. Two guitarists, two bassists and a drummer (who I used to work with). I am supposed to be vocals, with my backup being one of the bassists. It is disgusting how much talent they have. They put me to utter shame. I watched as they played covers flawlessly, down to every twang of the guitar. I cannot even begin to fathom why they would pick my shitty voice for a lead. I have not had a chance to see them freestyle their instruments, with the exception of the drummer. His skills are amazing. His skills can only be described as “sextastic”. I'm pretty damn sure this kid can go places if he chooses to. I guess I do know why they picked me. Despite my horrible voice (which is accentuated by the fact that we record all the tracks separately), after all the recording is done, I QY70 a couple of sequences here and there, and I a vocoder and modplug, to pretty much rip the the performance apart and rewrite it. I realize now, that my musical talent has always been in remaking and fiddling with music made by other people, ergo, remixing. I have no creative fires of my own when it comes to composing it.

I was supposed to attend a wedding on Saturday, instead I stayed at home and prostituted my gadgets around the house. I could not even begin to fathom being in an area in which a union was to take place. It has bad enough watching everything we owned get replaced by newer items she owns. That is not my problem though. I just could not bear to be around the event. I'm sure anyone in my shoes would have felt the same way. He returned a few hours later, a married man. I caught myself wondering if it would change his character in anyway. We shall see.

I have been told that my entries are rather vague. The only thing I can say is, take only what you understand.

Patience and Selfishness? Understood.

Literature is dead, but we all knew that already. My first book was rather disappointing. It was riddled with rehashing of every conventional story out there. It lacked any sense of creativity or finesse. I assume that every writer must strive to immerse the reader in their story. The goal I thought was to make at least one character have generally identifiable troubles or similarities. There is a problem when I read a book and all the characters are the same exact person, after exonerating their names from them. It does not stop there with pallid and green characters, the setting was what anyone would consider a desert of elucidation. Reading a book with seven plus identical characters, inside a white box or room, is absurdly boring. In my head everything took place in one room. It really makes me wonder how people get to publish such trash. It does not stop there though. I started to gander through another one of my new books. The one with the theories. It abhors me what people can get away with, in this day and age. The book was pretty much a paraphrasing of all Sigmund Freud's theories. It is shocking! A book that can be considered plagiarism in the lowest court of law and order, plagiarising from a crackpot buffoon. Monkey see, monkey do I guess is the anecdote I am looking for.

The gardening book is being a good read so far. I can imagine the cause being the fact that I am actually learning something. I have never wanted to grow something so much in my entire life. Perhaps I shall head to the nearest floricultural repository and pick up a flower pot of some sort. I hope that I can actually remember by the time this week is over. It would seem that gardening would be a facilitator in learning the process of patience. I know for a fact that I need more patience within my quintessence. One plant should be enough to begin my lesson on that issue.

My smoking has finally slowed down, I have smoked thirty cigarettes total, as opposed to my nearly 20 within the first twenty four hours. On coffee; I always thought buying coffee beans was a stupid idea, but the taste was beyond compare. Grinding your own coffee is definitely the way to go, it is well worth the time for what you get out of it. I am obviously the poster-child for unhealthy. Drinking coffee while smoking cigarettes. I need to get around to making myself some tea, but that will have to wait till the weekend. It takes me too long to make good tea. Much too long. Then again, I savour it. It is such an open ended drink, and half the reason I like it so much is the process of making it.

I have been making peace with myself on many issues. So many things I have realized that I simply need to let go. I do an absurdly good job burdening myself with matters that should not even begin to concern me. I always forget I have bigger issues to think about. Selfishness is what makes me worry about the little things. I am not the only person that I have been making peace with. I ran into one person who I simply shut down on. Granted, I had done nothing wrong, but I pointed no blame. I simply listed the ways I was wronged and peace was wrought from the lips of the other. It felt rather good to smile genuinely that time. I hope I can do that more often. This is where I cut short this post. Pardon the random disjointedness. I have just awakened and have a lot to do before I head to work, hence I am a bit rushed.

Exodus to an exile.

So here I am wondering what to do with myself have had this thing for so long. Livejournal has been where I posted all the updates I needed to do. Granted, I did not want to fill the place with emotional psycho babble. I posted everything I needed to say over there. I should transpose everything here, but probably not. Life has been hectic for me. I work the graveyard shift, which leaves me asleep for most of the day. When I return home, I climb in bed, roll over once, and it's time to go back to work. My relationship ended recently. Work is work, life is life. Everything lined up and juxtaposed (which by the way is still my favourite word), has put me back in a place I am all too familiar with. You know the place. It is that place little whinny people with shirts which are often six times to small and thick rimmed glasses go.

I managed to quit smoking. Cold turkey at that. I never thought I would see the day. I found myself without the need to put a Marlboro Red stick between my lips. Yesterday, on the journey to that place I go to make money on a nightly basis, I bought a pack of smokes. They were not Marlboro Reds though. I bought myself a pack of Marlboro Blend no. 27s. I seem to be working up a fit with it. It feels like I am playing some kind of catchup game with them. Less than twenty four hours in, I have seven sticks left. I need to purchase a carton soon. I do not plan on making it a permanent thing. My mental and emotional state has put me in a place were I tell myself I need them. I am counting them as I smoke them. Four hundred will be my limit, if I make it that far.

Moving to where I have moved has been both a blessing and a curse. I refuse to go into detail, but I am obviously very alive and managing to pull through the mess of life. I find that I have not really impugned myself or my goals in a while, but that is what this is all about is it not? I have cut all forms of outside social interaction with everyone I know. I have turned my house phone off. My electronic mail addresses have been set to extemporaneously delete all incoming mail. All instant messaging software have been shut down, and disabled from start up. Skype has been shut down as well. All my social Internet Relay Chat channels (ergo, channels with people I have known for over 7 years), have been closed. I have set all accounts I have for any massively multi-player on-line role playing game, to permanently away. I am pretty much cut off from all contact with anyone who knows anything about me. I guess the only way anyone I know will be able to contact me will be to show up at my abode, and even then, I might not be inclined to answer. I have relayed this decision with my house mate. I did not go into detail as to why, I just announced to him not to hand me the phone.

So here we are. Time for cogitation. Time to rearrange the colours and shapes in my head. I have almost everything I need for this. My music is ready to be played. Two hundred plus compact discs will not go to waste. I have got some gin. I have Martini mixes, I have rum. No, the goal is not to get overwrought with it. I have Colombian dark roast coffee, which I ran through a grinder myself at the local supermarket. I bought some earl grey and some chai tea as well. I have nine books which I purchased this morning as well. Five novels, two books on random theories that interest me, one cookbook (do not ask), and finally I bought a book on gardening. How effeminate of me. I do not see myself with a garden any time soon, however some things are nice to know.

Onward with my exodus and self exile. Let us see what kind of growth I can spur in myself. Let us bear witness and judge my future ameliorations and emotional stability. I pray that I can deal with myself through this moment. Life has brought me challenges that I have defeated time and time again. This time however, it is a challenge I want to triumph over, without defeating anything. Anything I can do to myself, that will not cause me to wallow in the self-pity that is inevitable will help me out immensely. I do not want to ever stop giving to the person I have been with the longest in this lifetime. I do not wish to stop sacrificing for the memories we have shared. I do not wish to give up on the dreams I made for us. I will not. I will live life though, we both shall. I shall remain as stalwart, solid, noble and gallant as always. It was intoxicating while it lasted.