I Release You

There comes a time when you have spent so much time outside of yourself that you forget who you are. This isn’t my case. I know who I am. What I don’t know is who made me human. Experience has made me more of a guarded fool than a cynical bastard. This gives way to a scenario where the words leave my mouth faster than my brain can process. Speaking to the first woman I ever truly loved made me stumble upon a truth buried deep within me: I hadn’t let her go. I still wasn’t over her.

Disgust assaulted me in waves. I thought this was taken care of.

The clock struck 1 in the morning as another sleepless night loomed in the horizon. My bed couldn’t soothe my tension so I walked aimlessly around my room. Soft creaks from the wooden floor dispersed the thick silence. My mind was going through my memories fast. I had already disposed of all the belongings she had left behind. I had tried to get her back. I had grieved what could have been. It made no sense.

The wind made its impatience known as it rattled the windows of the manor. This was ridiculous. I had an early meeting in the morning. I couldn’t waste my night on this.

I sat down on my desk. Found a piece of paper and a pen then I proceeded to write.

Dearest,

You were my sun. I loved you for who you were and not who they wanted to be. You wanted a cheating bastard over someone who could’ve made you truly happy. To each its own. I thank you for what you did for me. One day I will forgive your treacherous heart. As of today, I forget you.

Sincerely,

C.D.P.

There, in the same place I had regained my humanity, I remembered her. And then she was gone.

Gender Games

The last few days have gone by in a series of torrid events.

Whether it be a certain loved one's never-ending relationship ups and downs (I was tempted to use the cliché roller coaster) or my own problems with certain members of the opposite sex.

It's because of this that I want to get my thoughts out here so they no longer plague me in the weekend I have classified as The One Weekend I Shall Relax.

If we are going to actually learn from our ancestors and stop pretending that their mistakes are never going to repeat themselves, let's see. In the days of yore, man and woman lived in a strict society setting that was dictated by certain rules of common etiquette.

Ladies, when they liked a young man, they did everything in their power to look beautiful, be polite and entertaining, charm him with their wit and knowledge and hope he returned her affections in a similar way.

Men became enraptured when meeting a lady that they fancied. They transformed into these court jesters, sacrificing their life to get a smile or if they were lucky, a laugh from their lady. They wanted to please her, lavish attention on her and make her feel like the most beautiful woman that had ever graced on the planet.

You know things are really distorted when I am writing this and I feel I am writing a romance novel.

Somewhere along the way, everything changed. Clubs might as well be brothels. Men consider women to be notches on their bed post. They are sex dolls without mind or will. The bigger the number of broken hearts and one night stands, the more virile you are. It's nauseating. Women in turn toy with a man's emotions, consider him to be a means to an end whether it be to satisfy their urges or their needs for a money and a more comfortable life. Or worse, they think that you don't deserve a second of their time because they are superior to you.

So as it is to be expected, nowadays men and women have this composed, complicated game going on when either one shows interest in the other. It is so bloody convoluted that all the players have forgotten the rules of the game and go around pretending they know them. Adding the last ingredient in this recipe for eminent disaster.

Knowledge is no longer power. Oh no. Knowledge is a weapon. The more we know that the other person likes us, the more we use him or her. Another thing, if the person doesn't do what we want them to do, that gives us every right to throw a major tantrum and demand our needs be met.

Bloody bollocks.

I am sick and tired of feeling like I am a prize to be won by the fiercest, nastiest competitor. I am so also tired of having to accept disgraceful behavior from women just because I don't return their sentiment. Women disrespect me by slapping, offending, using or attempting to emasculate me. Do you honestly think that will get my attention? Do you honestly think I'll say 'oh that's a strong independent woman who doesn't take shit from men'?

I won't think this.

No. I will think you're pompous, arrogant, disrespectful and deluded.

So I would really like it, for my sake and a loved one of mine, that you are all just honest and stop dragging us around like we're rag dolls. And most importantly, stop thinking you can just spring forward and do as you please with us. I promise you this, it will bite you in the arse, in the most painful matter.

P.S.

Oh and yes, I am on Twitter.

Mastermind, you say

After a lot of dilly dallying, I finally pushed all pertinent paperwork aside and took the Jung Personality Test & Career Indicator. To be quite honest, I don't know what to think of it.

All Rationals are good at planning operations, but Masterminds are head and shoulders above all the rest in contingency planning. Complex operations involve many steps or stages, one following another in a necessary progression, and Masterminds are naturally able to grasp how each one leads to the next, and to prepare alternatives for difficulties that are likely to arise any step of the way. Trying to anticipate every contingency, Masterminds never set off on their current project without a Plan A firmly in mind, but they are always prepared to switch to Plan B or C or D if need be.

Masterminds are rare, comprising no more than, say, one percent of the population, and they are rarely encountered outside their office, factory, school, or laboratory. Although they are highly capable leaders, Masterminds are not at all eager to take command, preferring to stay in the background until others demonstrate their inability to lead. Once they take charge, however, they are thoroughgoing pragmatists. Masterminds are certain that efficiency is indispensable in a well-run organization, and if they encounter inefficiency-any waste of human and material resources-they are quick to realign operations and reassign personnel. Masterminds do not feel bound by established rules and procedures, and traditional authority does not impress them, nor do slogans or catchwords. Only ideas that make sense to them are adopted; those that don't, aren't, no matter who thought of them. Remember, their aim is always maximum efficiency.

In their careers, Masterminds usually rise to positions of responsibility, for they work long and hard and are dedicated in their pursuit of goals, sparing neither their own time and effort nor that of their colleagues and employees. Problem-solving is highly stimulating to Masterminds, who love responding to tangled systems that require careful sorting out. Ordinarily, they verbalize the positive and avoid comments of a negative nature; they are more interested in moving an organization forward than dwelling on mistakes of the past.

Masterminds tend to be much more definite and self-confident than other Rationals, having usually developed a very strong will. Decisions come easily to them; in fact, they can hardly rest until they have things settled and decided. But before they decide anything, they must do the research. Masterminds are highly theoretical, but they insist on looking at all available data before they embrace an idea, and they are suspicious of any statement that is based on shoddy research, or that is not checked against reality.

Flowers and Love

I honestly forgot I had this. It's been a while but circumstance brings me here one more time. Along with a need for an outlet. Though I know for a fact that I do not have a fan base like my good friend Michelangelo does, even if he is a horrendous blogger nowadays.

My last entry was rather depressive. It's a bit idiotic to say that I wasn't in such a good shape at that time. Luckily for me, seasons change. Old loves are reborn and new people come into my life.

I was told that journals are good for finding your voice... which could be true if I wasn't utterly distracted by the beauty behind the entire Phantom of the Opera soundtrack. My iTunes, my choice. I think it just fits with my idea of a lazy Sunday afternoon, even if it has been lazy not by choice. I don't like wasting days doing nothing but lounging, because as much as you want to make this seem otherwise, it really is a complete and utter waste of time to do nothing. Same goes for instant gratification. All you could ever end up with is nothing. It comes and goes as quickly as a whisper.

Tending to my garden the other day I couldn't help but wonder, when did we [humanity] turn into parasites? We walk around, looking for the first flower that catches our fancy. We want to satisfy our 'fix' within the first person that makes us feel physiologically challenged. We clamp unto it, feed like there's no tomorrow then separate and dance our way into another scenario of equally minded imbeciles.

Our world, our lives, our loves all share one common ingredient: they're all shallow. We expect it all to magically turn into a fairy tale as if wishing it would be enough. Yet we sleep around, betray, cheat, lie and generally use up the person until nothing is left. The same nothingness you were running away from.

We don't honor love. We don't take care of others so by default we slaughter our hearts. We don't tend to love. We cease to believe it even exists so our guilt doesn't taint the already soiled experiences that go hand in hand with promiscuity. A bit redundant, isn't it?

I am no saint. I never have been. I admit that more than once I've been tempted to fall into that particular abyss with shiny neon lights and watermelon flavored condoms. It's not worth it.

Never would I change the thrill and the simplest joy that fills my heart when my little bud blossoms into a beautiful flower after I've devoted myself to it's care. Knowing well enough that it's not forever makes it even more worth while.