On her being unpredictable

Sometimes being unpredictable isn't an asset. She's sweet now, she's a bitch later. Mood swings, ticks, fits, and helluva lot of surprises. Multiple personalities in one dinner with your favorite bone soup. You won't eat that bone soup anymore. She will ruin it with her unsolicited sudden pessimism about life. She will ask, "What the hell are we doing?" while you try to recuperate your bone soup disappointment with milk tea. Your mouth will be stuck in that straw. "What the hell are we doing?" Damn the woman, you don't know yourself! You are in love with a lot of persons in one body. What the hell are you doing? She's unpredictable. You tried and tried and tried. You tried to understand. But you lost that drive anymore. Her ticks and fits and helluva lot of surprises numb you. You don't know her anymore. A million versions of her in one dinner date. She likes pudding now, she loathes it later. She likes her dress now, she wants to get naked later. She loves you now, then she will ask "What the hell are we doing?" later. You don't know what the hell is going on. You try to get out but you can't. Why? You still hope of seeing her in one piece--that version of her that you loved. Damnable love. Damnable feelings.

Being unpredictable is a shitload that doesn't make sense at all. Why do you have to be this mean? Why do you shock me with your ticks and fits and helluva lot of surprises? I don't need to be shocked. I want clarity. I want to see one version of you while we sit and warm our asses on a fine dinner date with bone soup and milk tea and pudding and buttered chicken and turkey. Why can't you be one at a time? Why do you ask "What the hell are we doing?" Don't you know? We are screwing ourselves waiting for each other to get lost. I don't want that bone soup anymore. Damn that bone soup. I want to get the hell out and cuddle up my pillow--doesn't matter if you'll come along with your multiple personalities. You're too unpredictable. It's too much. It's too painful. But I love you and that's where I lose despite my whines. I love you. Damn I love you. Please be kind and come back in one piece, baby. Come back in one piece.

Of silence and alter ego

I keep my mouth shut for three reasons: 1.) I am in pain; 2.) my mind is telling me something and I need total silence; 3.) Cupid is poking this stupid heart.

Alter ego: What the hell, Dennis? You've been too melodramatic lately! What are these posts about love and pain? What the fuck is going on with you? Have you forgotten that you should not fall in love? Have you been weak? Did you let her get you? Did you let her go inside? Did you let her?

Me: I did and I am sorry. I have not forgotten that I shouldn't fall in love. But I did and it's not that bad at all.

Alter ego: Not that bad? Let me remind you of her, then.

Me: You don't have to do this.

Alter ego: Yes, I have to. Let me remind you of the catastrophic history that almost ruined your entire life.

Me: It is the part of my past that haunts me until now. You don't have to tell me what I've been through because I've been carrying the shitload of pain with me all throughout these years and I assure you I am still badly wounded.

Alter ego: But here you are doing it again.

Me: You've seen her, haven't you? You know how I feel about her. You know it's different. You know this isn't going to be a major screw-up. This is it, man. I know you know.

Alter ego: And I've seen you being hurt, Dennis. Remember those nights? Remember all the fucked up nights you have to go through? Remember the days inside campus that everything felt void and you are but a shadow of a broken soul? All I'm saying is that I don't want to see you hurt yourself again. You worked so hard getting up. You collected all the pieces of that broken heart and tried to piece it back together. You worked so hard for everything inside you to be right again, man. And here you are throwing it out again to the void. You said so yourself that she isn't feeling the same way. Why are you doing this?

Me: Man, love isn't about getting something back. Love is total sacrifice. I've said it many times: even if she doesn't love me I will still love her. That's the gist of it.

Alter ego: But you are hurt. A part of you wants something back. A part of you wants her to love you. That part will be your major screw-up, man.

Me: That part is you.

Alter ego: And it is you.

Of a song reminisced

A song always reminds me of you. They play it everywhere I go and it reminds me of you. At first I felt unprejudiced longing for you. It was good. I felt like flying above cloud nine as that song played on. But it also reminded me of the unrequited. The unrequited feeling. The unrequited care. The unrequited love. The melody stabs and breaks what little hope I have with the idea that I love you and you don't. It was like how Tom felt listening to that song he and Summer used to sing (500 Days of Summer). I hate this song! I loved it and I hated it. Why does it hurt so bad? Why does it fucking hurt so bad?

I know you've heard the song. You're singing it. You sing the heartbreak of my soul, fair lady. You sing and I die with it.

October Reads

October Reads:

1. Fight Club
2. One Hundred Years of Solitude
3. Inferno
4. Doomed
5. Radiant Void
6. A Separate Peace
7. Sputnik Sweetheart
8. Thus Spoke Zarathustra
9. Naked Lunch
10. Goldfinch
11. Middlesex
12. The Ocean at the End of the Lane
13. Smoke and Mirrors
14. Devlin Diaries
15. Atlas Shrugged
16. American Psycho
17. The Fountainhead
18. Blood of Olympus
19. The Giver (Quartet)
20. No One Writes to the Colonel

On loving that woman

That woman.
That ever-beautiful female human specie.
That powerful woman.
She stunned me.

I love that woman. I know for a fact that she will not love me back but I love that woman. Even if I'm making up false realities for our love story to be a fascinating fairy tale that ends happily ever after, I know for a fact that that will not happen, and I still love that woman. I will continue doing so.  Even if she is surrounded by handsome male homo sapiens I will still love her. Even if she is happy and I am not the one making that smile on her face I will still love her. I will continue doing so for the rest of my life.

Maybe I can hold her hand. Maybe I can touch her cheek. Maybe I can do all that stuff but that maybe exists only in my dreams. I can be with her in my dreams. I wish to linger in there. I wish to stay. I wish that everyday I am dreaming and in that dream I can hold her hand and touch her cheek.

I love that woman.
That woman is far.
That woman is going away.
And I am here.

I will conquer universes and mix up singularities in time space continuum, if that will lead me to her then I will do just that. But I can't conquer universes and fight off time paradoxes. I can't. She is going away and I am here.

I love that woman.
That woman shouldn't know.

I love her in silence. Even if this crazy fragile heart bursts to shout to her, I will fight this off. She shouldn't know.

If she will know?
Let it be.
I still love that woman and if she'll know, nothing will change.

I love her.