i feel like i did something sacrilegious…
for kelly’s nudist beach zine!
Anything I tell her is going to come out all wrong.
I imagine myself talking to her every time I see her each morning. I play out various scenarios in my head and in each one I sound pathetic.
Maybe it’s because I think I’m a loser. I don’t see any reason for her to want to talk to me far less go out with on a date.
From where I stand she seems perfect. At least as close to perfection any mortal could hope to achieve.
I’m pretty sure all I can offer her is regret. That’s based on the outcomes of all my past relationships. Hell I might even give her a bit of pain and suffering for good measure. That’s all my exes seemed to have got and that’s with going with what they said.
There she is again. Every morning like clockwork at 5:45 am Monday to Friday. I see her while waiting on the water taxi to head to work and it’s rare for her to miss a day. I look forward to seeing her. It has become a routine now. Wake up, morning coffee, check out that amazing woman.
I don’t stare though. Staring is rude. I don’t dare to stare at her anyway. It would only serve to make the situation even more awkward for me.
Once or twice she has noticed me. Then again most people at this terminal are regulars. Over time you get used to seeing certain faces. Like that skinny man who walks with an umbrella every single day, even when the sun burns bright in the sky.
Those times she looked my way, I went out of my way not to make eye contact or let my face betray my thoughts.
What kind of thoughts you may ask? Nothing impure or unclean. That’s a surprise to me as well.
I just wonder about her life and what kind of childhood she had. I imagine all sort of stories about her life and make guesses about where she works and what she does. Those kind of thoughts that make me think I may be interested in more than just sex. The kind of thinking that makes me wonder if she can be a good girl friend or if i can be a better man because of her.
All this may just be wishful thinking. so for now I will just look but don’t touch.
Anything I saw to her might just come out wrong anyway.
It is all to easy to waste a mind. Lately I have to resist the urge to just go with the flow. The path of least resistance is tempting. For one reason or the other I just can’t bring myself to doing that.
I think too much. That’s at the core of who I am. Sometimes it is a bad thing. Other times it is an asset. I just can’t let myself do actions without first thinking about why I’m doing it.
I don’t think many people know who I am, what I believe in, what I’m afraid of, my dreams and hopes. I guess I know why. They can’t know if I don’t share them.
It’s not that I don’t trust people. I just end up listening to more of other people’s lives than talking about my own.
That’s easier than having to talk sometimes.
Then there is the fact that I hate what’s generally accepted as socializing skills. I can do it, play the conversation game and blend in. Doing that requires energy that sometimes I don’t wish to expend.
So I end up keeping to myself. I have few friends even though I know a lot of people. That’s okay with me honestly. I don’t think people generally realize how easy I actually am to talk to. All they have to do is talk to me.
The same applies to me as well. I really ought to talk to people sometimes. I know this. I just rather not sometimes. The reason? I’m not a very good person. At least I’ve always felt so. If I do good I do it because that’s what I ought to do. That’s how morality is supposed to work.
Then too, people generally say one thing and communicate another, and if I have to spend a lot of time trying to figure out the message chances are I won’t bother.
I’m straightforward. I’m a realist. I’m an introvert. I’m awesome. I’m me and that’s all I can be until I decide to be something else.
Out of all the possible emotions I am capable of feeling, I think wrath is the one that makes me feel truly alive. Wrath is more than anger. Anger gets the blood flowing, makes everything brighter and more focused. Anger gets adrenaline pumping.
Wrath surpasses that. Wrath is calculating and cold. Wrath is creative. If love has the power to create life then wrath is the means with which to end it.
That’s not a good place to be. In the long run feeling this way will make me cold and bitter. I am not a vengeful person so in the end it all falls back on me.
The worst thing I can do now is to start to act on my feelings, especially the negative ones.
Looks are over rated. Anyone can be pretty on the outside to some one else. True beauty is an inner something. True sexiness is similar to confidence. What gets me weak is a woman who’s sexy and she knows it. It has nothing to do with how tall or short she is, or how skinny or fat. It simply boils down to how much confidence she has in herself.
And that tempered with character makes me weak. A smart and witty woman sends shivers down my spine. A woman with virtue and class can probably get me to do anything for her.
Some people get to fall in love only once in their lifetime. Me, I’ve been (un)lucky to have this happen time and time again. I’m assuming that what I felt was love. Then again it may have been a special kind of lust. I always rather feel something than nothing at all.
Love is such a strange thing though, indescribable, intoxicating, exhilarating… a million words can try to describe it but I don’t think words can ever do it justice. Similarly, no one can tell you that you’re in love. You can’t even tell yourself that you’re in love. It’s something you just know and feel inside you, all up in you.
Being in love feels like flirting with insanity. There isn’t a reason to love or to be loved. Love just is I guess and is only as good or bad as the person using it.
I haven’t stop loving anyone I have ever loved before. No matter how much I have been hurt by them before or hurt those in the past, some part of my heart will always have a soft spot for them. Only people you really care about can ever deeply hurt you but I hold no grudges and hope none are being held against me. I can only hope right.
Love is irrational. Being is love is akin to being crazy.
I can live with that. What I can’t live with is a life devoid of emotion, a boring stagnant being. All emotions are like the seasoning and spice of existence, both the so called good and bad ones. Love means nothing without hate and so on and so forth.
Maybe I’ll fall in love again. Maybe I’ll get hurt again. I refuse to shut my heart out of fear. I rather live my life to the fullest than waste time worrying about stuff I can never be certain about. I rather love than feel nothing at all.
I don’t think it is possible to truly hurt someone unless you love them first. Or at least think you do. The person who said sticks and stones will break my bones never understood how much words and deeds from done by someone you care about can hurt you. Betrayal hurts. Only the people closest to you know exactly where to place that knife.
Trust is a fragile thing. In a second years of work can come crashing down. Once trust is lost it is near impossible to get back.
Hate is a strong word. That’s why I reserve it for things and people I truly detest and abhor. Anyone who can hurt a child incurs my wrath, probably because as a child I was hurt by people in positions of trust.
There are some things I will never wish on my enemies. There are some crimes I can never forgive. That’s not because I lack compassion and a forgiving heart. It’s actually the opposite. There isn’t any coming back from some deeds. Some crimes make you less of a human being and cause you to lose your soul in the process.
Anyone who can abuse another living creature is a monster. Anyone who can inflict physical and mental pain on their own child isn’t fit to be a parent or a human being. They deserve less than a dog or a rat. To me they have lost the rights afforded to human beings because they have deliberately shunned their responsibilities.
Those are the things I hate. I hate them so much that I am willing to give up my rights just to achieve some sort of retribution. That isn’t justice.
In some ways justice doesn’t exist because some things just can’t be given back. Some things once lost will never be found. And some scars never really heal.
Life is fucked up. Yet life goes on. That’s fucked.
The 2014 world cup is over and what a fantastic world cup it has been. Germany has won a well deserved title. I feel it a bit for Lionel Messi as I think he deserves a world cup title to his name. Argentina on the whole didn’t deserve that honour in my opinion.
A lot of talk has been thrown around about people who suddenly choose to publicly express their liking of a particular team. Bandwagonists they call them here. Apparently “true and diehard” fans hate people suddenly liking their football team.
I find that notion to be petty and childish. This is how in see it.
If you are born in Trinidad and Tobago then the only national team you ought to support in a football tournament is T&T (for world cup, gold cup…)
Once your national team isn’t there then maybe it shouldn’t matter which team you support and how long you supported them for.
It shouldn’t matter how long or short a person supported a particular team for.
Then again the issue seems to be when people support a team who wins over one who doesn’t. People like to identify with winning teams. That’s human nature. That’s the same nature that leads people to get possessive and obsessive over the things they like.
Mind you I think the whole idea of having national pride is a retarded notion. Nationalism and patriotism when carried to the extreme leads to prejudice and those sort of horrid things. I’m not saying it is totally bad. It’s just that like anything else, having too much patriotism can be a bad thing.
Now that the world cup is over, I wonder what’s going to be the next great big distraction.
Sports are good. I like the passion and goodwill sports can bring out in people.
It is just hard to ignore that while something like the world cup is being held, conflict is taking place around the world. And the whole myriad of human issues as well.
Here in Trinidad and Tobago I feel sometimes that as a nation we have selective vision. We have so many problems here currently, not to mention the issues before that faded away instead of being death with…
The world cup was entertaining. Now it is back to reality and life.
I can understand how being distracted can be perceived as being a good thing.
The existence of hell has fascinated me since I was a little kid. It seems like people are more motivated by fear than by satisfaction. Why not be good for the sole reason of being good? Isn’t doing the right thing for the fear of punishment for doing otherwise kinda retarded? I don’t see how anyone can be rewarded for thinking like that.
The road to hell is smooth and boring and not as slippery as one may imagine. I don’t think that one major evil act will send my soul directly to hell if such a place exists. It is easy to regret such things. Rather the sum of many small and relatively inconsequential sins can lead to eternal damnation easily. Comfortable sins. Sins that will build on each other and sooner or later pass a point of no return.
If hell exists that is. I have seen people commit more heinous acts to each other all by themselves. I get why people like to think there are higher powers. Deities who can absolve humans of any responsibilities. The devil made me do it, you dig? Fascinating thing the idea of hell is.
I think therefore I am. I can’t imagine not having any thoughts running through my mind. To date there isn’t a universally accepted definition of what the human mind is. A mind can be the sum of an individual’s experiences and the physical brain made from neural pathways. Or it can be linked to the concept of a soul and consciousness and be intangible and indefinable.
One thing I know is that every time I imagine the concept of nothingness, I begin to experience what true fear is.
Nothingness is an abyss that no one can venture into and hope to remain sane. The thought of having no thoughts, no awareness of who I am and where I am is the scariest fucking thing imaginable.
It is for that reason that I fear dying. Death may be the next great big adventure yet still no one alive today (or maybe in all of human history) ever came back to tell the tale.
It is nice thinking that there is life after death for all eternity. A lot of people profess to believe that. I don’t think that’s the case however I have never been to a happy funeral. So maybe it is an unconscious realization that after death there may just be a bunch of nothing.
That sounds pessimistic and horrible. It could be. I think therefore I am. I can’t remember when I first started thinking. I find that weird since when I’m dreaming I can’t remember when I first fell asleep.
If life is a dream who are these other people. If reality is a lie my brain and senses tell me then what’s real and what isn’t.
Most importantly though, if there is only one life to live and that’s it, then it makes no sense the way we treat each other. If I am then they are as well. And if they are as real as me then they would matter just as much as I do.
And there it is. That’s the foundation of universal human rights I think. It’s funny how despite that logical conclusion we as a species prefer not to acknowledge it.
Satisfaction is the death of desire.
The more I see, the more I want. To me life seems like a consecutive series of plateaus and every time I attain one I am constantly seeking a new challenge. I feel like sometimes doing the same things over and over again gets so routine that I feel like I’m standing still while the world goes on without me.
Satisfaction is one of those unattainable goals to me. Satisfaction brings about the death of desire. I want to push myself everyday to be better than I was the day before. That feeling of stagnation, like there is nothing left to do gets me disenchanted.
Satisfaction is a more elusive goal than happiness and contentment. I don’t think that at any point in my life I have ever truly felt satisfied. That’s not to say that I ought not to feel that way. My life is far from horrible. I have good things going on and know some amazing people. I have a job and am not on the poverty line.
Yet I always want more. I desire everything. I dare say I need it. There always feels like something is missing from my life. Until I figure out what that is I’m going to keep pushing for perfection.
Haha, perfection. True perfection to me is unattainable. It exists only to taunt me and mock me while I’m living day to day. I think perfection is a great evil. I don’t think human beings can ever be perfect. I don’t even think a deity can ever also be perfect. Perfection to me is a myth, an ideal, a concept there to drive and motivate people yet is also intangible and unattainable.
To be perfect and to be completely satisfied is to die. Life is about change. The universe is about change. Those who don’t change get left behind.
I want everything. Is that so bad when you think about it. I want things that rationally I know I may never attain. That shouldn’t stop me from trying right?
Time is money. Fuck with my time and you fuck with my money. Time is the most valuable possession I own and once gone I can never get it back. It is for that reason that I consider people who waste my time to be criminals. It is up there with mortal sins such as murder and rape. As a result I shun repeat offenders who insist on robbing me of time over and over again.
With a gun pointed to his head during the 1990 coup attempt, Arthur Napoleon Raymond Robinson, the third Prime Minister of T&T, was given a telephone and ordered by Jamaat-al-Muslimeen insurgents holding him hostage in Parliament to tell the Army to back down. Instead, Mr Robinson shouted into the receiver, “Attack with full force!”
For his defiance, he was beaten by his captors and shot in the kneecap – an injury that would stay with him for the rest of his days.
In 1987, he was awarded the Presidential Medal of Honour from California Lutheran University. On a state visit to Nigeria in 1991 he was made Chief of Ile Ife by the Ooni of Ife. He was a Freeman of the cities of Los Angeles and Thousand Oaks and holds Venezuela’s highest award - the Simon Bolivar Award.
RIP, to one of the last true statesmen of Trinidad and Tobago; our former President and Prime Minister.
RIP sir. You were one of our truly great leaders.