Lengthy Confessions of a Pathologically Slacked Professional Bum

Date: 27th July, year 2006
Estimated Time: around 8:50 in the morning
Mood: dark, woebegone, and definitely out of sorts…
Last-Song-Syndrome Tune: Goin’ Crazy (Natalie)
Bookish Fix: “Blink * The Power of Thinking Without Thinking” by Malcolm Gladwell (Introduction, Sub-Chapter 2: The Internal Computer, page 16)

The sun was almost elusive today, as I solemnly trudged the long, grueling road toward my ominous destination. Up above, overcast clouds pushed their way in front of the planet’s only source of daylight once again, just as it had done these past couple of weeks. I guess it’s rather inescapable, as the storm that recently hit our motherland had only just begun to leave our country skies after all; this according to the insignificant bit of news I happened to catch a glimpse of that same foreboding morning. And while admittedly, this was the sunniest it had been in a really long while, it still left a gloomy, almost somber mood hanging in the air. I was completely at peace with it, though. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly the jovial type. And although I terribly worried that rain might start pouring at any moment then, I have to admit that it did suit my tepid disposition at the time. As I took another weary step along the cracked, cemented road of the said dismal street, the same question ran through my preoccupied thoughts once more. Why am I doing this?

It had been nearly four months since I decided that (get ready) I didn’t want to work anymore at my call-center job, for reasons too personal, not to mention quite humiliating, to recall. Actually, that’s a flat out lie. Granted, I did feel very lonely working for that company (God, give me strength), but the only real reason why I “left”, so to speak, was because I was overcome with a strong sense of monotony, stronger than any I have ever felt in all my twenty-one droning years of the pathetic existence I frequently, some days more than others, refer to as life. It was pure, unadulterated tedium, what I was doing every single, debilitating day, and the lethargy of it all plainly burned me out. And as I am a self-confessed slacker (and apparently damned proud of it), it was easy as pie for the last remaining shreds of my weak convictions in life, and whatever sorry sense of professional ethics I have somewhat accumulated over several years of corporate industry immersion, to succumb to temptations of slothfulness and idle indulgence, however marginal the stimuli are. Ah yes, that’s us for you, the inadequate dregs to a suffering human society, perpetual dark horses to your venerable hypocritical farces. Yeah, I really won’t be the least bit surprised when humanity finally decides to oust me from sentient planet-life. Nevertheless, I digress. As I was saying, the work had become seemingly inane and pointless from my sordid perspective. Clearly, the chances of growth within the company were becoming slim to none with every passing week. New procedures kept piling atop continually reducing call-handling minutes, while the evident requisite for flawlessness and fastidiousness, as is the actual nature of the job, is given even more emphasis, unnecessary though it may seem, so it had become virtually impossible to garner acceptable monthly scores required for any decent promotion. Again, I feel the need to reiterate that the tedium that came with the job after eleven and a half months definitely suffices the deluge of anguished company employees to the nth power. With no more than the same stagnant position to look forward to, every passing day of every passing month, it simply is no wonder that one can and will inexorably lose his motivation, however self-motivated they primarily claimed to be. At the end of the day, the job just doesn’t seem as sound and unassailable as it used to do anymore. And if the motivation cannot come from within, I steadfastly believe that it must then come from outside sources, in this case, the immediate superiors, and in turn, the company itself. Unfortunately, this was not the case in my team. And should this not be addressed by the ones placed in authority? I say nay. For without the force of the subordinate masses, will there be end result? Will there be progress for the company, profit and productivity-wise, if their own employees are subconsciously revolting against the exhaustion and weariness brought about by (so help me God) each and every long, thankless, unrewarding day, when there are much greener pastures to be grazed further along this booming industry’s roads? Seriously, though, forget compensation, I wanted loyalty! The very same loyalty I exhibited for the company whom I thought would take care of me. My defense rests herewith.

Subsequently, after a much-needed vacation in a somewhat humdrum beach, only made pleasurable by the company of friends and acquaintances, I was compelled, by my own slacker jurisdictions, to emancipate myself, of my own accord mind you, from the shackled lifestyle of C*nv*rgys life. My only regret is that I wasn’t able to reclaim my Christmas Party bean bag from the internal fraud perpetrator, who ostensibly claimed said object of my grief, under the false pretenses that he was my person. Of course, none of this would’ve happened if it wasn’t for the foolhardiness of the Human Resources employee on shift that sad, unfortunate day, when she failed to check for identification. Now, I have left the company with a heavy and, most deploringly, couch-less heart.

So what exactly came over me that uber-depressing day that I had to walk around puddles of muddy water, down the long, meager streets of Legazpi Village, when I could have been hibernating away with unlimited hours of languid sleep on my conventional bed with its stale, unchanged sheets? (What? I’m a guy, so sue me.) Elementary, my dear Watson. I was coerced (by my oh-so-kind heart, of course) to accompany my good friend in her present search for a new place of employment. And before anyone of you starts with the mushy aw’s and ooh’s, not that it’s even possible to deny that this was an exceptionally sweet and endearing gesture, even for the likes of little apathetic me, let me just explain that I was also feeling the pressure to resume working status, due to my piling mobile phone bills, and my recent, undeniable lack of new clothes. Yes, as difficult as it is to sell my professionally bummed self short, it pains me to admit that I, too, have now joined the ranks of commoners who have financial responsibilities and whatnots. I have become… normal. And as I sigh myself to sleep at night, wondering if tomorrow would once again be Groundhog Day, I replay a famous quote over and over in my head. “Swallow your pride, it’s not fattening.” And indeed, the insurmountable tub of lard, ballooning itself around my midsection and man-boobs (yes, you heard me right), from eating way too much fast food and sweets without any means to burn off (or stress off, as I always like to put it when work is involved) the excess fat and goo, had engulfed all my qualms about losing all the glorious freedom brought about by non-work, enough so to actually make me start looking for my new employment venture. So while it isn’t really pride that’s holding me back like in the saying I had just quoted, it is, nevertheless, still a regrettable episode in my slack-filled lifestyle, that I have to now go against my utmost honor and life-long oath as a bonafide affiliate and substantial component of the professional bum society of lazy-assed humans all over the world, for the sake of actual, laborious drudgery. Just imagine the amount of free time I’d have to give up! The mere fleeting thoughts of losing such a necessitous luxury send shivers down my spineless spine. But, as a man, however naïve in the ways of life still, I have to face the fact that… I’m now flat broke. In short, I’m desperate. God, I hate that word. It’s just so… desperate. So much so that for me it deserves to be made obsolete. That way, people like me with similar circumstances wouldn’t have to exhaust their vocabulary, just to end up using it in the end.

And that is why, much to my dismay, I am doing this (God forbid) humanitarian act of colossal proportions, even when armed with the knowledge that I will also selfishly benefit from the whole thing.

(To be continued…)

:p

***
Quotable quote, not necessarily related to this post, but noteworthy nonetheless:
“Stand firm for what you believe in, until and unless logic and experience prove you wrong. Remember, when the emperor looks naked, the emperor is naked. The truth and a lie are not ‘sort of the same thing.’ And there’s no aspect, no facet of life, that can’t be improved with pizza.” – Daria Morgendorffer, Daria – Is It College Yet?...

To Kill a Pink Elephant

(A very short story.)

“Do you believe in movies?”

It was a question Cohen always asked himself, time and time again. And even now, as the words stared back at him through the luminous screen of his laptop, he failed to come up with an answer. Cohen took another sip from his Starbuck’s Caramel Frappuccino, his favorite caffeinated drink, in the hopes that it would help his creative juices start flowing again. But even as he felt the caffeine work its instant magic through his overworked body, he still can’t seem to find the words to answer the simple question.

“Shit!” he exclaimed, after glancing at his wristwatch. It had been exactly five hours since he first sat down here to work on his next article for his column on the Saturday paper. And he called himself a writer. Sheesh! He closed his laptop shut, took one last, long sip of his beverage, and stood up. No point wasting more time here, he obviously wasn’t making any progress. He crossed the throng of people waiting in line for the slowest order-taker in the entire store to take their orders. Poor girl; must be a newbie, he thought. This particular Starbuck’s was always full of people. He often wonders how he’s able to write in such a noisy place. Then again, most of his best articles were written here, right there on the very couch he sat on a while ago, wouldn’t even have it anywhere else. Perhaps it was the feeling of familiarity, provided by his favorite couch, in his favorite coffee house, that provides him with a sense of normalcy, and the idea that he has something that holds him back to the real world whenever his writing has sucked him in, and had closed off the rest of the noisy world around him from his consciousness, making it easier to get lost and absorbed in his own writing, the only time he feels his works were ever acceptable. Perhaps it was for this reason that he keeps coming back to the place, and is able to produce some of his best pieces over and over.

So what happened today? His editor wanted something about movies. God, this was supposed to be the easiest topic for him. He was always the passionate one for movies among his few friends. And while he wasn’t exactly the movie buff, his passion for watching never disappoints them. So why can’t he write this ‘passion’ down? Why can’t he put it on paper?

Cohen treaded his way back to his apartment. He stopped by the bookstore on the way, just to see if there were any new interesting releases. He was definitely not a reader. He’s probably read one or two books that he found he liked, but never found himself feeling the urge to join a book club or whatever. But he believes in the power reading can and will provide a person, and he knows it only takes the right book to get him interested, so he hasn’t given up on reading at all. Every time he would pass by that way, he would check the shop to see if anything would interest him. No such luck today, though, not that he minds, considering his workload. What he did love, were movies. So if he believes in books, and he doesn’t like books very much, why can’t he manage to say he believed in movies, and justify it?

**********

Cohen entered his apartment and, by habit, immediately checked for his messages.

“You have one, not two, one, just one, message,” said the answering machine in his head. Geez, he needs to get a life. And lo and behold, the message was even from his editor. Whoopee. “Hey, Coh, it’s me, Grace. Listen, I sent you a copy of your article for this week’s issue with the revisions. They’re just minor typos, no biggie. By the way, loved-it! You should definitely write more about vulnerable stuff. I want the same vulnerability on your next article. I know I told you it should be about movies, but I want your readers to be able to relate to it still, so I want the same level of sap, got it? Oh and we definitely need to talk about who that girl is that’s on the article. You have been keeping me out about this kind of dirt in your life, so you better dish out next time. Okay, honey, cheers!”

Hmm. The last article… He opened his email and re-read his article for the nest issue. It was definitely not fiction. It was kind of like an open letter, his secret confession to the one and only girl he loved. Yeah, you could say he was pretty preoccupied these days. Maybe that’s why his creative juices just won’t flow. Maybe.

Come Saturday morning, and the article came out. It was critiqued and revered later on as one of the paper’s most outstanding pieces.

**********

Cecilia was just reading the newspaper while waiting for Cohen. They had been close friends for quite some time now and their friendship was getting stronger and stronger. They were just planning to have lunch today.

Cecilia always read Cohen's column last. He was a good writer and she liked his articles fresh on her mind after reading. This article seemed different from his usual work, thought Cecilia. After reading on, she realized that it was his love confession, and from the scenarios described in the article, she could tell that it was about her. She was still processing things, when the doorbell rang. She rose up to answer the door, and there stood Cohen, and somehow, he looked different. Cecilia was finally seeing Cohen for the very first time. Cohen just took her by surprise with this open letter crap, and it showed him to her in a different light. She told him so, and Cohen just about passed out. This was something that he’d been waiting for his entire life. But before he admitted to her that the article was indeed about her, he coaxed her to give him the go signal, something that would assure him that she wants him, and his love for her, just as bad. It was like there was this huge, pink elephant in the room now, and they both refused to acknowledge its presence. They both know what they were talking about, and yet they both still won’t admit to each other what they know. It was for this very reason that Cohen absolutely hated pink elephants. They are the worst form of awkwardness he knows, and he loathes and despises awkward situations. They're just so... darned awkward, and off-setting.

Cohen sighed. They pressed each other on, but she never wavered and gave him his go signal, so he never confessed. Probably, she was feeling sad that she’s alone right now and only wanted to make him admit his feelings to her, so that she could feel pretty again, and important to someone, and just… loved.

When Cohen realized that what he was hoping for was just never going to come, He stood up and started to leave. It was probably for the best that she decided to keep silent about her true feelings too, after all, they were friends, best friends, and she probably wanted to spare his feelings. Because the sad truth is, she just won’t feel the same way.

“I know that you know that I love you,” Cohen said solemnly, as he stood just outside her door. He paused dramatically for Cecilia to respond. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She just stared at him with the saddest expression on her face. He felt a tear begin to fall, and before it fully found its way down his cheek for Cecilia to see, he turned and left.

**********

A few days later, Cohen dropped by his favorite coffee house to, once and for all, finish his overdue article. Once he got his order, he went to his usual couch. What he saw made his heart stop. There she was, in her most beautiful smile, laughing at what her male companion was saying. He longed to be the guy that gave her that specific laugh, but they only pop up her lovely face when she’s with a guy she loves. So she's in love again. At least she'll be happy again, that's all he ever wanted anyway.

Cohen looked closely at the guy. His face suddenly contorted with unmasked fury as recognition dawned on him. It was one of her ex-boyfriends. His anger suddenly knotted his already queasing stomach. What was going on? She said this was the boyfriend she was most ashamed of, the one she couldn’t understand why she ever went out with in the first place. Why would she tell Cohen all those lies, when the truth is, she loved him all along? God, he needed to get out of there. He mustn’t be seen by them.

But as his luck would have it, Cecilia saw him, just as he was turning around and dashing for the door. He failed to hold back his tears, and they started to pour own his face.

“Cohen, wait,” Cecilia cried out as she caught up with him outside. “Please, let me explain.”

Cohen just gave her the most pained smile she had ever seen on him. “What’s there to explain?” Cohen mustered, furiously wiping at his wet and flushed cheeks. “I’m the one with the problem, right? You should go back inside, your date’s waiting.”

“Come on, Coh, don’t be like this.” Cecilia pleaded.

“Like what?” Cohen replied, still trying his best to smile despite the circumstances. “Like my usual self? This is who I am, Cecilia. If you really are my friend, you need to accept me for what I am. I just wish I could do the same. For some strange reason, I just can’t seem to get it in my stupid head that no matter what I say or do, you’re just… never gonna love me. Not now… not ever.”

**********

“And so I ask myself, ‘Do I believe in movies?’ The answer is simple. Yes, I do believe in movies, and the power it has to give an escape route to its viewers from the sadness, the problems, and the oddities in the real world. But the thing is, I also believe in life. And as I’ve learned from experience, real life will never, ever be just like in the 'reel' world.”

There was applause from the entire room, as Cohen’s editor finished reading his next column to the staff. She then remarked that it might just be his most beautiful work.

"Thanks, Grace," Cohen just smiled at her compliment. “I appreciate everything. However, please consider this my two weeks notice.”

:p

***

Quotable quote, not necessarily related to this post, but noteworthy nonetheless:

Matagal ko nang gustong malaman mo
Matagal ko nang itinatagu-tago to
Nahihiyang magsalita at umuurong aking dila
Pwede bang bukas na, ipagpaliban muna natin to
Dahil kumukuha lang ng tiempo
Upang sabihin sa iyo
Mahal kita pero di mo lang alam
Mahal kita pero di mo lang ramdam
Mahal kita kahit di mo na ako tinitignan
Mahal kita kahit di mo lang alam

Matagal ko nang gustong sabihin to
Matagal ko nang gustong aminin sa yo
Sandali, heto na at sasabihin ko na nga
Ngayon na, mamaya, o baka pwede bukas na
Dahil kumukuha lang ng buwelo
Upang sabihin sa iyo
Mahal kita pero di mo lang alam
Mahal kita pero di mo lang ramdam
Mahal kita kahit di mo na ako tinitignan
Mahal kita kahit di mo lang alam

Ngunit kumukuha lang ng tiempo
Upang sabihin sa iyo

Mahal kita pero hindi mo lang alam
Hindi mo alam kasi hindi mo naman ako tinitignan
Ayaw mo naman itanong sakin
dahil baka nga naman hindi rin naman ikaw
At hindi ko rin naman sa yo sasabihin
kasi ayoko pa sa ngayon ang manligaw
Mahal kita pero hindi nga lang halata
Hindi halata kase wala nga naman akong ginagawa
Hindi ako kumikibo, di ako nagsasalita, wala
Pero hindi ako torpe
Hindi ko lang talaga masabi sa yo ng harapan
Mahal kita pero de-hins mo pa rin ramdam
Hindi mo ko titignan, hindi rin kita titignan
Lagi mo lang akong pakikiramdaman
Lagi rin kitang pakikiramdaman
At araw araw tayong magde-dedmahan
Hanggang sa tayo ay magkabistuhan
Pero ngayong malapit nang matapos ang kanta ko
Nais kong magkaalamanan na
Nais kong ako na rin ang magsabi say o ng harapan
Dahil alam kong doon din naman ang tuloy nyan
At dalawa lang naman ang posibleng sagot dyan
Oo, o hinde
Kaya’t eto na
Sasabihin ko na para matapos na at hindi na magkatsismisan pa
Sasabihin ko na para wala nang problema at hindi na rin kayo nabibitin pa

Mahal kita pero di mo lang alam
Mahal kita pero di mo lang ramdam
Mahal kita kahit di mo na ako tinitignan
Mahal kita kahit lagi mo na lang
Akong dinededma

- Rocksteddy, Lagi Mo Na Lang Akong Dinededma...

Castles and Apathy

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a princess who was cursed at birth by a wicked witch, to have no friends. All the gentlemen in the kingdom who befriends her were to fall helplessly and maddeningly in love with her, and all the maidens were to treat her with scorn and jealous mockery as a consequence. So the princess grew under such circumstances, and naturally lived a very lonely life.

Dejected and exhausted, the lonely princess locked herself away in the castle’s tallest tower. There, she made friends with the castle fool, the Court Jester. She told him about her problems with all her suitors and all her enemies, but the jester just laughed at them all. The jester then taught the princess how to become apathetic, and eventually, the princess learned to just follow her heart in whatever she does, no matter how selfish her heart’s desires may be. And so when the first brave knight on a white horse came to take her away from her prison tower, she allowed herself to be rescued.

Unexpectedly, the princess started to fall for her knight in shining armor. Unfortunately, as she now lived outside the kingdom, her brave knight, regrettably, didn’t return her affections. Crushed, the princess returned to her tower home, and cried… and cried… and cried. And she became lonelier than she ever was.

Little did the princess know that since the court jester was also a gentleman, he couldn’t stop himself from loving the lonely princess, for that is her curse after all, therefore, it was inevitable. For the jester to see the princess in so much pain and sadness, simply broke his heart to a million tiny pieces. He decided to traverse into the depths of the enchanted forest, to seek out the wicked witch, and finally put an end to her evil curse.

After countless hours of a painstaking search, the jester found the wicked witch’s lair. When the witch learned of his story, she merely laughed maniacally at the cavalier pretender. She found it amusingly peculiar that there exists in all the land, an apathetic castle fool hopelessly trying to be a fairy tale prince. But the court jester didn’t care about her criticisms. All he wanted was to see the princess smile again, and to do this, her curse must be lifted.

Smug with abstruse certainty that the jester will fail, the wicked witch then chanted a counter-charm. “Only on the night when the moon shines full,” she began, “at the stroke of midnight’s hour, may true love be professed.” The jester looked on, and focused all his attention to the witch’s spell. “Only then will the curse be lifted, but if, and only if, pure love is what was confessed.” The jester was saddened. He knew the princess’ heart was recently broken, so she may not trust her heart to love again anytime soon. He hurriedly started to leave, but his plans to become informant for the princess was suddenly thwarted, when the witch magicked him into a disgusting gecko.

Meanwhile, the lonely princess was still crying over her misfortune. She looked up desperately to the night sky. As if in answer to her silent prayers, the first star of the night twinkled, and a small child with sparkling wings appeared before a disbelieving princess. He introduced himself as the princess’ fairy godchild. He quickly told the princess of the jester’s heroism and his unfortunate predicament at the moment. Touched by the jester’s valiant efforts, the princess realized what a fool she had been for not realizing that her true love had been right under her nose all along. It was the court jester she was in love with!

She hurriedly summoned for her green royal carriage, “Gladys, as the castle’s royal coachperson, I command you to bring me to the jester’s whereabouts within the secret confines of the enchanted wood. To the wicked witch’s lair!” And with that, the meager, but able coachperson raced their chariot to deep within the depths of the enchanted forest.

The princess arrived, and found the disgusting gecko, sprawled on a most dirty rock. And upon seeing what has now become of her dearly beloved jester, she shed her tears once more. She knew not how to reverse what the witch had done to the jester, and all hope lost, she knelt down the gecko’s side and planted a long, firm kiss on the amphibian’s slimy lips.

At that very moment, the town clock clanged midnight in the distance, and the dark clouds above parted to reveal a full moon casting its luminous beams upon them. A few seconds later and the two of them were engulfed in a shower of golden sparkles, and the gecko transfigured back into a human. The curses that had been cast upon them both by the wicked witch were broken! Her kiss was the princess’ own profession of true love. The princess was overcome by indescribable joy.

Just when the princess thought everything would be back to normal, the witch’s maniacal laugh reverberated once again throughout the surrounding trees in the enchanted wood. The princess feared that something wasn’t right, and ever the damsel, she turned to her foolish prince for security. She looked into the jester’s eyes, and tears welled up in her eyes. Gone was the love that once shone brightly in his eyes. He was after all, merely enthralled by the curse as well, and now that the princess’ curse was broken, he was jaded no more. He was never truly in love with the princess from the beginning.

Needless to say, the princess was mortified, and grew old and sad, while the wicked witch lived happily, ever after.

:p

Author’s Note:
Let it be known that, unfortunately for me, karma had already struck me with its vengeful means, as I suffered from several fits of incessant coughing while writing this ludicrous testimonial…

***
Quotable quotes, not necessarily related to this post, but noteworthy nonetheless:
“Here’s the thing about crushes. They always hurt in the end, that’s why they’re called crushes.” – Mandy, The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy…
“Ang pagsubok ay kasali talaga sa pag-ibig. Kung ‘di mo kayang harapin iyon, mas mabuti pang ‘wag ka na lang magmahal.” – Mirmo, Mirmo De Pon…

Agony /n/

“He has had to watch you go from one guy to another, and then the engagement, and then the engagement was off. And patiently he’s waited. And now, in walks this kid, and he says, ‘My God, will she date everyone else in the world before she’ll date me?’”

– Sookie St. James of the hit Warner Brothers’ television show, Gilmore Girls, in reference to Lorelai Gilmore’s clueless obliviousness towards Luke Dane’s affections…

(big sigh)

Okay. This may actually take you by surprise, but I think you’re really stupid. You have absolutely no idea what you do to me, and the thing is, you probably will never know. Because if you ever find out, I know I would lose you, and I just can’t take that risk. I wouldn’t know what to do, or how to act without you in my life. I cannot possibly face the rest of my life knowing we can never be as close ever again.

All pretensions aside, I think I’ve fallen for you. There, I’ve said it. Actually, I think I’ve been falling for you ages, no, eons ago, but I’m only just realizing it now. And the thing is, I may have never really ceased falling for you during all those months that we’ve not seen each other. I guess it just really took me a while to admit & figure it out for myself.

I remember that day we got to see each other again after what seemed like forever. You merely uttered one, plain “Hello,” together with your trademark sweet, fleeting smile, and damn, suddenly my whole world was turned upside down. All those feelings I assumed to have died already just came rushing back to me, and what I’ve felt, or have been feeling over several years of silence, just got instantly reaffirmed. I could’ve sworn I thought I was over you. Turns out, I was only missing you. So much so that when we got to see each other again, I fell for you like a ton of bricks harder.

I cannot even begin to elaborate on what it is that’s going on inside my neurotic head. All I know is that I’m more nervous around you than anybody else. When you lean your head on my shoulder, or when you touch my arm, my heart just palpitates faster as electricity courses through my nerve endings, and I just can’t comprehend why. The mere whiff of your languorous hair, to me, is intoxicating, and it always takes my breath away. You leave me babbling and blundering over the most nonsense of all meaningless things, and yet I don’t end up feeling ashamed. Your smile easily lights up any room you’re in, and it’s all that I see. When I’m around you, I feel like I can be King of the world, and not the pathetic loser that I really am. Your mere presence just causes me inexplicable joy. With you, I could want nothing more than stand at your side, at the ready for your every beck and call. With you, I feel… That’s just it.

Call it stalking or call it love, all I know is that it’s real. But sadly, whatever I’m feeling is and will always be both gut-wrenching and bittersweet. Eh, it’s only natural. After all, it just wouldn’t be my life if there wasn’t a catch, right? Let’s see… You’ve made countless commentaries on what you want and don’t want for a relationship that I could not possibly deliver in this lifetime. Your description of the ideal guy, I couldn’t even imagine to exist. You’ve been serious with guys I can’t even compare to, how does one simpleton compete? Because let’s face it, I’m boring and dull, I’m a total dork, and I am the least romantic person I know. I probably won’t bring you flowers, because we both know they wilt and die anyway. Balloons easily deflate after their, what, two-day glory? Why should anyone bother? Chocolates are no good either. I’d have eaten them before they get to you. I’ll probably be too lazy to pick you up or bring you home, or maybe just make up some totally lame excuse. Lord knows I’m uber-famous for those. I won’t do stupid little-things-that-matter, they’re little and they’re stupid, why the hell should I bother? And no, I wouldn’t do all those things and gestures just for you or the sake of it. Chivalry is dead, and we both know I’ll only be doing it because I have to. It just wouldn’t really be me. Yeah… you would rather be dead than get caught introducing me as your boyfriend.

It’s sad, I know. Actually, no, it’s really ubiquitously me. But this is exactly how it is with me and you. And as pathetic as pathetic goes, I’ll probably grovel and beg for the fleeting chance to be a temporary fling, or for any God-given sign that there’s the slightest inclination to the remote possibility that somewhere in the deep recesses of that oblivious heart of yours, there could actually be a cramped little nook for little old me. Unfortunately, you’ve obviously made it a point that you want me nothing more than as a friend. So much that I think you might even be considering me as one of your girlfriends, and I hate that! That is just about the worst thing that could ever have happened. It is a bit confusing, and if you don’t get it, you won’t, so don’t bother trying. It’s a guy thing. See, when you meet a girl you like, you’re never supposed to cross that line of friendship. Because after that, you just become the best friend, and there’s nothing you can do to change her opinion of you after that. There’s no turning back. Everyone knows you never ever fall for your best friend. It’s like this universal unspoken rule.

The shame and humiliation doesn’t end there too. Oh yeah, it gets more complicated. Somehow, you would always tend to ask the most difficult of questions. Have I ever experienced heartbreak? Do I have prospect girlfriends? Who do I think is the perfect guy for you? Well, I’ll be damned. How in heaven’s name, do you propose I answer those, exactly? Yes, I’ve experienced heartbreak, over you. I could definitely think of a prospect girlfriend, except she’s a good friend who’s completely aloof and oblivious about me. No guy would ever be perfect or even remotely good enough for you, because I should be that guy. How do you suggest I tell you these answers, huh? Oh, and don’t even get me started with your cute little comments about other guys being cutesy sweet, or incredibly gorgeous, because dammit, I do get jealous. A lot. See what hell you put me through? And you know what else I find to be so frickin’ infuriating? I’d gladly put the blame on you for all of this bull, except I’d have already forgiven you beforehand. What’s funny is that, you won’t find out about it in the first place, because I choose to just keep silent and mum about all this. Again. And again. The point is, I don’t care if I implode or go completely nuts. To me, it would always be better that you be left in the dark about my feelings. That way, nothing will change. You won’t have to feel inconvenienced or stressed out over such meaningless things. We won’t have to feel awkward around each other, we will remain close, and I can go on torturing myself with our forever platonic relationship, and the mere thoughts of our insane closeness that I am perpetually unwilling and unable to pursue and divulge into for reasons already mentioned. At least with silence as my solace, I can still be your friend, and we won’t have to drift apart due to awkward tension brought about by any rash and impulsive revelations, we both know you don’t want to hear. It may be overdramatic, but the truth is, real life just aint like in the movies. The guy doesn’t always get the girl, especially the one that didn’t stand a chance from the very beginning. It doesn’t play out like it does in your head, and it runs with excruciating slowness. What you see in movies only happens in dreams, and what we have… it’s nothing short of a nightmare.

Yes, you did and are breaking my heart. But please know that I am not holding you accountable for my pain, for it is completely self-inflicted. So don’t put too much thought into it, alright? Because whatever “it” is, is undeniably one-sided. Yeah, yeah, I get it. And I’ll have you know that I intend, with all my willpower, to keep you clueless about all this crap; because at the end of the day, this suffering is what keeps me going. And this agonizing torture might just actually be that thing they call Love, and I strongly believe that Love should never be selfish.

(big sigh again)

You know what? Love is absolutely, 100%, not all that it’s cracked up to be. In real life, Love aint no saint. Love is just a retrospective name, given by hopeless romantics, to situations in each other’s lives, which garnered desirable and idealistic circumstances. Love is nothing more than a mere underdeveloped concept. So fuck Love! It’s all bullshit and crap! (sigh) But for what it’s worth, I found Love in you. And I say this from the bottom of my heart, that in my book, you, or anything else associated with you, can never be a bad thing.

P. S.
If you happen to read this post by any chance, please don’t flatter yourself. I am most probably referring to some other girl whose relation to me just happened to have a striking resemblance to ours. This would never be about you, so don’t bother confusing yourself with thoughts of how it might just be.

:(

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Quotable Quotes:
“Can a heart still break once it’s stopped beating?” – Lord Barkis, Corpse Bride…
“Why is it that when your heart is broken, all you hear are love songs that make your heart hurt even worse?” – Brooke McQueen, Pop-u-lar…
“I’m the girl of your dreams masquerading as your best friend… I decided to live a lie… because I know you might get scared… I’ll let you go for now, hoping that you’ll fly back to me… because I think you’re worth the wait.” – Chloe Sullivan, Smallville…
“Do you think it’s possible to love someone your whole life and not really realize it, until something happens that makes you see?” – Rosalee Futch, Win A Date With Tad Hamilton…
“He took this guy’s head, and shoved it into a wall. The guy’s eyeball was dangling from its socket. He’s a monster! But he’s my monster, you know? Love is a really complicated bitch.” – Ursula, Dawson’s Creek…

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Just because two people are meant for each other,
Doesn’t mean that they’re meant for each other now…