Streams of Consciousness… Beware of wordiness*!

People always leave…but sometimes they come back. But the hardest part is welcoming them again without ever feeling unsure…

…you know, when you think about it, maybe the case isn’t about people leaving you. Maybe it’s because you never risk everything and go with them. It appears that they’re the ones who’re leaving because you refuse to accept change. It’s you, not them…

Sometimes, being free means not only having the option of staying, but also by choosing to go and expand your horizons…

The hurt will never go away. It never does. It always marks its permanent territory buried deep into your heart and engrafts a nasty looking scar; a reminder of an ever so unfortunate event.

Seeing this mark makes it a lot harder to forget. But then again we’re not supposed to forget. We’re supposed to learn never to go that far again and/or discover a different approach to the situation.

But then, most of the time, we tend to forget about the lessons we have acquired. Some of us deliberately invite all the drama in. For some strange reason, we like to get hurt – even if that means more lacerations and more scars on our part (uh-oh…we’re gonna need more surgeons!).

But then again, maybe we’re not entirely cool about the idea of us getting hurt. Maybe, just maybe, despite the all the animosities, we still see a certain flicker of a happy ending. This glint, however weak it may look, strangely is enough for us to keep on going. Warm enough to power us into reaching for our desired goal (once again). Failure also sometimes happens. It may be there the first time. It may also be there on the next, on the third, fourth…(you get the idea).

Of course, there are times when we should just stop trying…How do we know when to? I can’t answer that. You just know. And the hurt? Like I said, it’s still there. You’ve just grown used to it being there. But this doesn’t mean you’ve turned invincible. You’re not and you never will be. This simply means you have accepted defeat. That you are aware of your limitation. You see, human beings can be very competitive. Because of this militant behaviour, we tend to forget when to stop being combative. We become agonistic. I’m not saying this impulsiveness isn’t good. Let’s put it this way, being brave also means not being afraid to lose. Being brave doesn’t assure you of a victory (get it? Get it? No? I figured).

They say that in order to fix a problem, we should first admit that we have one. Next, we have to deal with it.

…The funny thing is, most of us know we have problems…It’s just that we’re utterly clueless on how to approach them. So instead of solving these difficulties, we tend to make it worse. I know I did, but at this point, I’d rather be blinded by stupidity.

Love in 2007 corresponds to an impetuous desire to be seen and to be with someone (preferably someone who’s hot, good-looking, has superhuman boobs, butt as well as other bulging parts, and, if not loose, then that someone must be willing to go past the first three phases…ahh…the perfect mate!). Sadly enough, that’s all there is to it. Purely physical.

            Apparently, the word “love” merely serves as a dulcifying agent for sugarcoating the whole phallic-oriented relationship to attain carnal pleasure, let alone coquettish relief. Like I said on my previous entries, relationships are full of lies.

            Contemporary love is overflowing with misplaced passions, exuberant (hehe!) liaisons by unfaithful buffoons, inextinguishable flames, and unappeasable hunger for flesh (not just for one person’s flesh but from many others’).

It’s a game, they say. It has been reduced to a game; a game which has rules that do not take a stand on human rights issues. Hurting someone isn’t much of a worry (well, what d’ya know? It’s sadist-friendly!).

It’s like playing basketball (the sports I’ve always hated…not that I’ve ever fancied any), only more brutal. Okay, you do the dribbling…*dribble-dribble-pass-dribble-shoot-score!*. The board reads 1:0! You get even and go for the win! It’s either you go with it or you end up feeling used and defeated. That’s just how the game goes. Someone may go as low as stooping beneath sea-level just to attain victory. One may also try to crush other people’s toes, hands, shoulders, and heads in order to be triumphant (crap! I should’ve paid more attention to P.E. 4!!! =P).

It has a twist, though: an exchange of partners or an addition of it (people nowadays love to party…die-hard party animals…third parties, fourth and fifth, and so on), people posing as whoever it is you expect them to be (worse than doppelgangers…they come in many varieties, either lying-sexually-addicted-fatuous jerks, gay people pretending to be their “otherwise” counterparts, seemingly pious individuals who’re actually devious varmints, people who pretend to care just to get a taste of your juice and then they become callous when they get tired of their gustatory perception of you and decide to find someone else new to screw, etcetera, etcetera), reversal of roles and standings (more than just positions), and even a loss of emotions (insensitivity…it happens when people have had enough of each other)…they have grown used to it. It’s like a habit to them. Nothing excites them anymore (*sways head to the rhythm Norah Jones’ song, Thinking About You*).

Guys are nice to ugly girls because they are either ugly too and/or these girls have the basic things a man needs in a woman: mountain ranges and a mysterious, gratifying cave. But they’re even nicer to pretty girls because, well, they’re the complete package. But then they always want more. One pussy isn’t enough! Slices aren’t enough! They need to eat the whole cake plus other layers of new ones to make them feel satisfied and manly (Exhibit A = meet my dad; Exhibit B = *the pus*). There. I have just presented one of the saddest facts of life. Don’t get me wrong, girls cling to ugly guys when they’re hopeless too. It’s just that usually, it’s the guys who get out of control and easily resort to desperate measures (sounds like many others whom I know).

With all of these in mind, it’s no wonder why love is at it is now. Whatever happened to the poetry in love? What happened to love itself? Has it been abbreviated to novelty? Where is the exchange of terms of endearments that come from and go straight to the heart and alters its beating?? Furthermore, where is the thing which we call FIDELITY?

Love today isn’t as complex and as deep as before anymore. It’s a good thing that I won’t get to live in the next century and experience the kind of love that’ll be there Probably worse than what we have now. Probably none (whew! not being a Hindu has its benefits, after all!).