Interpreting Silence!... What a mess?

Everything I posted so far, I kept impersonal.
Derived from so deep in the heart or so far in the past that it has a surreal distance from me.
Like it was someone else's story.

Today I must talk of something so recent that it can't be separated from reality.
Cannot be draped in any veil of comfort.

I told him I love him and I would leave everything for him.
It was too early to let him know but it was my only chance.

I asked for five minutes to hold him because something inside me knew he was too good to stay.

He didn't give me those five minutes.
He gave me a song and went silent.

I needed one answer.
He wouldn't even let me ask the question.

I kept banging at the door.
He let me know he was there but he wouldn't make a sound.

The song could have meant anything.
His silence could have meant anything.

Did it mean he didn't feel the way I felt?
Did it mean it just wasn't right?
Did it mean anything at all?
What? 
What did it mean?

I kept telling myself that it was I who came on too hard.
That the silence could only mean he loved me not.
And it looked like it.
He removed all trace of me.
Even as I watched.

So I tried to keep up my best face.
I believed he moved on.
So I tried to make myself believe I moved on.

Then he shows up with this girl.
So much of me in her, from the trinket she wears to the words she used.

Now.. what do I make of the silence?
Am I reading into it because I feel jealous?
I must be jealous but something else is bothering me more.

What's wrong with boys?
Why don't they say it to your face?

It will hurt much less to know the truth than to keep guessing.
A man can't read a woman's mind but so is true for women.
Women can't read minds too.

Why don't you go lose yourself Jad?
Why don't you say it out loud?
Even now, why don't you?

How long till I am free of you?
How long till I can move on?

How long till this noisy silence lasts?

Cowards

Cowards.
They are humans.
They have dreams.
They want to make it big.

They want it all like someone owes it to them.
Like it would just show up in a sock in the morning.
It doesn't.

They think it is everybody's job to give them what they want.
Like they gave it all the longing they had.
Like they gave all their time and effort to someone else's dream.

Like just wanting is enough to deserve it.
It isn't.

The boss believes it.
The client believes it.
The coward doesn't.

They can't accept it.
Their own failure.
Or a lack of achievement.

Sights are set on the next generation.
Like the child is born with all their own unfulfilled dreams.

The child keeps trying to live the coward's life.
Subdued by force.
Forced by duty.

Duty-bound to its creator.
With its own dreams in the back seat.

Suddenly the child is all grown up.
With wants and dreams there is no time to fulfill.

Another coward bred on cowardice.
And the spiral continues into another generation.

Que Importa... What does it Matter?

What's so important?
Is there anything so important?

Ultimately. No.

There comes a moment when the realization dawns that Life is, in fact, just a moment.
A moment in the passing of innumerable more.

The only moment that is real is the present moment.
The moment gone, never retrieved.

The moment coming, becomes present even as we think of it.

No reality except that minuscule iota of time that's Now.
All that we think is Real is merely our Brain telling us it is.

Then what does it matter?
Why get tied down with attachments?
Why get torn down by loss?
Why celebrate or mourn a moment?

The moment is passed.
The next has come.

Let nothing stop you.
Move on.

Love.
Live.

Hermit, Not Ascetic!

Semantics. 
Some would say.
What's the difference?

I say there is.
It took me all my life to realize I am one and not the other.
It took me all my life to realize it is not required to be one in order to be the other.

I am a Hermit.
I like to stay away in general.
Glorified introvert?
I like to say,"I respect personal space. 
Most of all, my own personal space.
I extend that courtesy to the second and third person."

I am not an Ascetic.
I follow my spiritual goals. Tenuously.

I do not deny anything in the process.
I do not deny responsibility.
I do not deny pleasure.
I do not deny myself.

Denial is voluntary ignorance.
How can there be spiritual growth where there is ignorance?
How can someone master something they never experienced?

Spirituality is not about denying that a vice exists. 
It is not about acknowledging a vice to condemn it.

Spirituality is about rising.
It is about acknowledging the vice and then rising above it. 

It is not about turning the other way.
It is not about crossing the street.
It is not about avoiding the temptation altogether.
Spirituality is about learning to stay strong in the face of it.

Hence, I say, I am not an ascetic. 
I can never be while I tread the path of spirituality.
I doubt you when you ask me to take the escapist route of being one.

I stay a hermit. 
Stand on the sidelines and experience by observing.
I am not attached to what I see but I am not closing my eyes.

I see.
I experience.
I learn.
I grow.

Revelation..

I have been through the whole rigmarole these last few days. I don't yet know what it means.
However, I do know that it is another revelation.

Like someone held a mirror to my face and pried my eyes open so that I could not look away. I wish I could have had that before.

Such stark revelation is not easy to witness or accept. 
Not when your own core is laid bare in front of you. 
More so, if it comes through someone who you do not expect to know so much. Someone who you wanted to keep away from such a thing at any cost.
More so, if you are the only one not aware of the truth. Even someone not physically witness knows you so much better but you do not. 
More so, when everyone else is in agreement with a matter-of-fact ease while you are hit in the face with your ignorance.

If you look at the mirror with a light shining into it, all you see is the scattered light. The light has to be shining into your face for you to see the true reflection.
Otherwise you keep thinking you are this shining light of virtue when it is merely an outer source you are looking at.

Sometimes the lights need to go out so that you can reveal yourself to yourself.

Lost!

You don't know a loser till you have lost it yourself.
I went out on a limb yesterday and let the emotions flow. It was an emotional outpouring of mammoth proportions that merely turned out to be a Pavlovian response to similar experience in the past. 
Turns out, I may have over reacted to nothing. At least nothing compared to what followed.

The curtains rose on the encore this morning. 
This morning I told everything honestly. As honest as I have ever been. What followed was this:

I got an ultimatum.
"If you ever behave in this way again, I will assume you want out."

Also, got a free character analysis:
"You are such a hormonal person."

The behavior in question is going out for movies, for dinner and to the beach in mostly a social setting.

The offending statement:
"I never felt so free and so happy in my life. I was elated. I felt liberated."

The analysis:
"In your moment of elation and liberation you must have sent out the wrong signals. Anyone can get the wrong signals if you behave like that."

So Sacanagem!
Well as they say, "No honest deed goes unpunished". Especially in a relationship.
Isn't love meant to nurture?
Isn't love meant to help you grow?
Isn't love meant to make you happy?

You know what?
I want out. 
I want out of everything in this world.
I want out of this dependence on anyone to feel happy. 
I want out of being made to feel guilty about anything and everything I enjoy.

I want to be Selfish. 
So selfish that you can't hurt me every time I let you know I live.
So selfish that you cannot hurt me every time I kill a part of me for you.

It was surrendered to you, you didn't win it.
It was a gift, you didn't earn it.
You don't own it. You never will.
Because it's not Your will.
Don't cry if you lose it because you never had it. 

You have to have found it before you say it's lost.

It is a Rush, It was a Rush.

I had started this thread to record the Loser experiences I was having everyday. I wanted to mock the illogical conversations I was running into.

Today is different. Today I am the joke. 
Today I speak for myself. Today I speak of myself.
Well, not so much speak, as babble incoherently.

Why? Because my thoughts are out of control.
It is a rush in my brain.
It is, in fact, now a stampede that is killing every brain cell I have. 

It was a rush a fortnight ago.
The feeling you get when you think you have found someone you can relate to. Ah! 
But what on Earth made me feel that way? I have totally no idea.
I wasn't even drunk. I don't drink at all. Then why?
What wings was I flying on?

I got it in my head that I can trust someone I barely new with my deepest secrets. 
Why? Because I never felt I could trust someone the way I did with this one?
No.
I think, in hindsight, I bloody blurted out everything because I am this rank moron who was having a field day proving exactly that to anybody who had any doubt about it.
Now I'm sure I am a bipolar all messed up in my head and the mania decided to show up at just the wrong time.

Oh! and did I forget to mention that I almost jeopardized the only meaningful relationship I have with anyone for the sake of my fantastic illusions? I also seem to have jeopardized the only friendship I found worthy of creating in a time so long, I can't remember.

What can I say? 
There are some days in life one hopes and prays that they could turn the clock back and undo all that felt happy and good. 
There are some days one is thankful for all the habitual miseries that piled up and kept this dejection at bay.
It has been one of those days.

I never imagined that I would see that day in my  life when I would have preferred to stay a reclusive loser rather than a merry idiot. 

Yet it was a rush and I let it blow me away. 
And now it's rushing through my head and I'm rushing to keep myself together. 
Holding on to straws that may keep my sanity from drowning to the depths of the ocean.

How does one forget the beauty of the moment?
How does one forget the absurdity of the moment? 
How does one forget such a moment? 
Is it possible to keep the beauty and let go of the absurdity?

It feels like, Life had been telling me all this time and I wasn't listening. So it gave me a lesson in "Do and Learn" before saying "I told you so".

Can't think of a bigger loser than myself at this moment.
I jinxed it by creating this blog.

Why I can't Dance?!

A new friend gave me this awesome dance music for duets. Now, I don't understand a word of it but the music is so hum-able and makes your feet tap. I don't exactly have two left feet but I'm also not the one to get up and break a few moves right away when I hear some music.

I'm also not the one to take the blame for any of this. 
Even if they could, they never bought me dancing shoes. 

Who? My parents. Who else?
They always thought it would be a waste of my time.

Now maybe I would not have turned out to be MJ or Madonna but I would at least have figured out whether I can dance or not.

Parents can be the most confusing. One morning you are the kid who can do nothing wrong because you got an A- in your class test and the same evening you are not good enough even to apply for a dance or arts or theater class or whatever it is that you want to do for yourself.

The Origins of My Mediocrity!

I decided to show up again. 
Actually I have something really important to do but.. I don't feel like doing it.
I feel like sharing my story with all the random people in the world (who will not even read this). 

Um? Where to begin?
Isn't it always the trouble? Where to begin?
Maybe starting at the start would be a good place to start. Let me give that a try.

I am like a lot of other people. 
I grew up an OK student with OK grades. 
I was told "the world was my stage" and that "I could conquer oceans" because (like twenty others) I could make it to the "Honor Roll" every now and then.

Well there was the problem!

"World" turned out to be way bigger than the a high school and a small town and the two pages in the Atlas.

And, I had never seen an ocean. I was looking at a fish bowl. I was being patted on my back every time I picked out my goldfish with bare hands. 
(No, I didn't kill the goldfish. I just took it out to clean the bowl and put it back in. We couldn't pay for another one if it died.)
That's not the point. The point is, I was made to feel like I had just caught whale. 
How was I supposed to know? I grew up inland!

And I, turned out to have no idea what I was doing and a lofted image of myself (based on all the 'A's I got in school) as the only guide to my actions.

No one told me that high school wasn't enough.

Hey! College wasn't enough either. 
College didn't give me an education or a job. 
All it "gave" me was a Loan I can't pay back. 

Is there no point where I can sit back, throw my legs on the table and life gets easy?

This is frustrating. 
Maybe I should just get back to the stuff I was supposed to be doing. I owe money to people.

Arrived

I am one of those lazy people who think they can write so they create a blog account and then never show up. 
Why? Of course, because they are creatively as barren as the Mojave. 

I created this blog to share my Loser life with the world. This is dedicated to all my Loser brothers and sisters and not-sures out there. Don't feel lonely. There is at least one more of your kind. 

I did have another blog but it turns out I have been there an average of once every year or so. Today I went through all my previous posts and realized a few things. The first thing was a realization about my own nature. I am impulsive. I do react to situations in the spur of the moment. 
Very often I look back on those incidents, like now, and then think "Was I that stupid?" 
Of course I was! Why else would I be writing all that stuff? 

I've written too much for my lazy self already. So I'll try and finish this when I stop beating myself up about being the Loser that I am. 
Loser yawning away!