Solitude or Loneliness?

It’s been years since I’ve set eyes again on this digital diary. Okay, you caught me. It hasn’t really been years, but probably a little over a year? Maybe? Honestly, I even forgot about the name of my own site. How careless of me. Well, here I am typing my sins away. Downing glass after glass of cheap red wine. I sit down here at a stranger’s desk, opening up a very dusty, rusty place inside of me. I stab the keyhole with the only set of keys that I somehow swallowed whole back in the day. I dare not imagine how I still have a copy of these keys. But hey, I have it in my hand. I’m drunk. I want to open this dusty old wooden cabinet. Again, it’s been years since I saw the contents of said cabinet. I do not even remember what’s inside. Dark secrets perhaps? I hope they’re juicy enough. As I twist the lock, my heart tightens. Someone (or something) has grabbed a hold of it. I feel it. My heart pulsing, dropping a beat fast enough for the techno world. It feels tighter and more contracted. I bite my lips, hold my breath, and I push through. I open the lock. My chest pounds through my dress. Beads of cold sweat form against my skin. My breath, short and fluctuating. I focus. I gather all ounce of strength I had within me to swing the creaky cabinet doors wide open. A cloud of dust greeted me, as I coughed at them. I look inside, through the contents of the cabinet. And, I finally realize what I had put inside. Nothing. Everything froze within and around me. The beads of sweat frozen in place. My chest still as metal. My heart suspended. I can’t breathe. Silence envelopes my entire being. I can’t move. Panic sets in. I dart my eyes, grasping to look elsewhere. Suddenly, I hear a faint ringing. A bell, perhaps? I focus on the only sound I can hear, fighting my way through the paranoia that is about to engulf me. I listen more closely. I hear it. It’s getting louder. I can feel it.The sounds is getting closer. It’s getting warmer. Is it the sun? Is there a window near me? I can sense some sort of heat emanating from somewhere. Somehow, I am starting to melt. I feel a warm glow come towards me. I don’t understand. What is this? Where is this coming from? It’s getting warmer. Again, I muster all my strength to look away from the rusty old wooden cabinet. Then I realize, I wasn’t alone. Arms were enveloped around me. It felt familiar. The scent and feel of these arms were from someone I know. I close my eyes and embrace the feeling. This feeling of familiarity. This feeling of home. This feeling of hope. I now remember that you were there. You have always been there.

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Explosions of Neon Lights.

Remember. Remember. The fifth of November, of gunpowder, treason and plot…

Yes, I know. Today is not Guy Fawkes’ Night. Today is the Independence day of United States. Although, these two celebrations have one thing in common. Fireworks.

Fireworks are illegal in Texas since it’s very dry and a wildfire could easily start. However, this did not stop these two friends. They were partners-in-crime. Lighting up fireworks right in his own backyard – or should I say roof? A most memorable fourth of July, it was, for Jack and Jill. Originally, they had planned to celebrate the night with four more other people. But, come 9 o’clock, none of these people showed up. After stocking up the cellar and laboring over an elaborate festive meal, it was only the two of them were faced with a celebration fit for 10 people. But no matter, Jack and Jill enjoyed each other’s company quite immensely. See, they cared for each other in ways no one else could fathom. It was a type of care only the closest friend could ever achieve, while keeping themselves within the  bounds of friendship. Over dinner, they would pour out every story their minds could think of. Nothing could stop the chatting. A game of puns was even brought up. That was thought to be of utmost delight. They ate, they laughed, the drank. It was a memorable night.
After dinner, when their bellies were all full and stuffed, they headed outside to light fireworks. Jack had quite a few of them. He first lit up the typical, straight shot firework. Although, some of them did not work for they seem quite old. It seems that most of them were leftover from the previous years’ celebration. Thereafter, he lit up these interesting little fireworks. They were round and bounced on the pavement. Jack and Jill giggled and laughed while they watched this little ball of fire in awe until each one of them slowly faded away.
Running out of fireworks, Jack had a tremendous idea. He grabbed a ladder a propped it straight up. He told Jill to follow him as he slowly climbs to the roof of his house. There they sat in the dark an gazed into the midnight sky. It was dark enough to see the vast majority of stars hovering above them. Then, flashes of neon light caught their eye. In a distance, fireworks were dancing in the sky. They sat together on that roof, talking about whatever nonsense or story or joke that had crossed their minds.
With the food, drinks, and fireworks, it had become a night to remember.

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Off to the City.

You know that moment when you’re trying to be what everyone wants you to be, and suddenly, you feel lost. Like your walking on a clear cut yellow brick road, off to Emerald city, but then you somehow encounter a fog that takes you somewhere gloomy and dark. It takes you to a place full of misery, worry, and regret. You try and fight it, just so you can go back to that path. But sometimes, you see this red light that is just mesmerizing so you follow it, thinking that it would get you back to where you were. You keep following the light, and it is somehow taking you deeper into the fog. You get more worried and lost, so you try to go the opposite direction. You try to retrace your steps back to where you first encountered the fog, but then you realize that you’re in too deep. You look back to where the red light was, and it is gone. You look around you, and there’s nothing but thick, dense fog surrounding you. Occasionally, you would hear voices, perhaps have a conversation with them, and yet, you still can’t get out of this fog. However, after some time of pity and self-loathing, you’ve had enough, and you try to fight this. You stand up and keep going walking towards something. You are just letting your basic instincts take over. You start to stop caring and worrying about the fog. You just don’t care anymore. You go just keep going, hoping that someday this fog would clear up and you would reach Emerald city.

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So, I have been re-watching “How I Met Your Mother,” and it just dawned unto me that I want a guy who is very similar to Ted. Someone who would do anything and everything for someone (not just his girl, but for his friends too). Someone who would really go the extra mile to cheer them up. Someone who is always there for his friends (especially his girl), no matter what. I know, this is a very straightforward blog entry. But, that’s just the way it is.

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Confession.

After 3 years, I finally went.

As I hesitatingly pull into the parking lot, rain started to sprinkle. I was nervous, but somehow, committed. I walked briskly towards the glass doors, up the stairs I went. I can already smell the residual frankincense from previous ceremonies. As I enter this magnificent architectural structure, I was suprised with the amount of people who were already present, waiting for the service to commence. I mean, I was already 45 minutes early. Nervously, I walked through the pews as those wandering eyes follow me. I looked around for the place where I am supposed to be, only to find this little room already occupied. I see through the glass windows, and a lady was sitting in front of the priest. Chills started to run down my spine. My heart had begun to race. My eyes darted to find a good place to sit. I walked over to the second row near the altar, and people, who seemed like grandparents, were all chatting about how the weather, news, sports – you know, small talk. My eyes started to wander, as I try to observe if there was a line to this little room I was supposed to be at. No patterns or systems seem to emerge, I decided that I was the one next in line then. As I wait intently, I tried to feel calm and solemn, trying to embody the peace that embraced the place. But alas, I kept thinking about what I was supposed to say in this little room. I was stricken with guilt and grief. Shame and hopelessness overpowered my will to go in this little room. But somehow, I remained frozen in this little seat I chose. Suddenly, I hear the door crack open. My pulse has jumped into the millions. I stood up and walked to this room, as though rehearsed, and I sat down in the chair vis-a-vis with a man that looked humble and peaceful. Naturally, he started the conversation. When it was my turn to talk, a big lump decided to show up in my throat. My heart was pounding. But, I still found this ounce of strength and courage to convey what has happened in the past 3 years. The emotions I was experiencing while I was waiting – shame, grief – were magnified a thousand fold as I tell him the stories. But after some 10 minutes, which felt like eternity, I wrapped it up. After saying these things out loud to this stranger, I felt nervous about what he was going to say, but a little relieved as though some weight has been lifted from my shoulders. And then, the most calming thing happened: he told me that I am and forever will be always loved, and that I was forgiven. Right after we bid adieu, I stood up, walked towards the pews, kneeled and prayed. I do not think I have ever felt that at peace in a very long time.

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“They’re always with some guy. If they’re special, you just have to make sure that that guy is you” – Mark Jenkins (Skins).

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Vacant.

Hello Stranger,

It’s me again. A bunch of things has happened since we last talked. So first of all, my little picnic potluck for Labor day turned out to be a success. People enjoyed it, and there were a lot of food. It was pretty fun. We stayed for a couple of hours talking to everyone. Most of my cohorts who stayed in town came out to the little gathering. I was quite satisfied and impressed that everything panned out well. After that, we had to focus on the math heavy homework. It is quite difficult since my classmates and I have met for two days straight and only have managed to hatch an idea on how to solve problem #1. And now, classes have started after Labor day, and we are swamped with readings and homework. For some reason, I feel as though I am perpetually behind. It’s pretty crazy, if you ask me. But then, one of our professors is treating us out for drinks on Friday. That should be fun. I think this Friday is the official start of the VFI: “we drink ’til we can’t drink no more.” I am already planning on taking the bus to class and just taking a cab back home. It will be fun, I think. Although, I feel like only a couple of my classmates would be down to drinking hardcore. We shall see. I am pretty excited on how this Friday turns out.

On another note, my Dad just left today. I’m pretty sad that he left because for some reason, my apartment feels a little empty. But then again, I was pretty anxious for him to leave. I guess it’s more of a heat of the moment thing where I look back and think how much good he has done for and how little I did. Somehow, I always think that I lack a lot of characteristics that would make the people that I love happy. I guess I am not really a master of how to make people happy. In fact, I don’t even know if I make my boyfriend happy. I mean, he never told me that. I know, it’s pretty sad. I don’t think someone has ever told me that I made them happy. This reminds me of my current vacancy in the “best friend” department. Yes, it’s pretty sad, but the one person that I truly considered my best friend has now moved on. We’ve been really good friends, or at least that’s what I think. But then, in retrospect, I was being such a horrible friend. I was the one who was talking for most of the time; I never really did listen. I am just this stubborn person, and yet my friend would always be there through all the good and bad times. But then, how we left things off was another story. I completely blame myself for all of it. I did such horrible things that I seriously think I deserve this. Well, I guess in other words, I don’t deserve that kind of friendship from my friend. Now, I think we would just consider ourselves “acquaintances.” So, I guess this is how it feels to lose a friend. It absolutely sucks. I just wish I ended things differently. But now, I really do think my friend is happier without me. I think it is for the best. I learned things the hard way, while my friend is so much better off. I know, this is a sad realization of things.

Anyway, I just had to release that. I am beginning to think that I am typing away my therapy in order to cope up with that “vacancy” I mentioned a while ago. I’m sorry for the whole sad entry, Stranger. I’ll to be a little bit more upbeat next time. Who knows, I might just enter a “tipsy/drunk” blog for you.

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