August is a Jinx.

It’s time to let your hair down,
And give yourself permission.
It takes courage and control,
But you start by letting go

Disclaimer: You see, I spoke too soon about positivism and all that hippie shit (see previous post).

Ah, where to even start… This month, all this crazy drama donkeyshit is giving be one helluva acid-trip(not the kind that reunites me with the unicorns, Johnny Depp, and other barbitural delusions). 

August - When it rains it pours. A lot of major, major (wow, now it’s becoming a MAJOR trending keyword) mistakes I made so far.

I TRIED TO BELIEVE -  I was thinking ahead, of a future promise of hope, harmony, unity in diversity all that hippie crap. I kicked positivism out of my door last January 2001. Long story. I hold grudges. But I started to believe (again) that I can be an agent of change.  But maybe I’M STAYING FOR THE WRONG REASONS - Because maybe I haven’t find the courage to find what I truly truly want to do. Maybe I’m just this way. Self-effacing and stubborn. Maybe I do reject change. I’m too clingy.  Maybe I can’t move pass this comfort zone. I’m so immunized to regular pity parties. Bloody irony of ironies. I still want to stay but maybe some things are beyond repair and no matter how I try to put things back together, some uneven pieces may still have to stick out. OH WOW. WAS THAT A METAPHOR???

I’M TOO INTUITIVE. TO BE COMPARED TO SOMEONE I REALLY, REALLY ABHOR - is the worst insult i can ever take. I am hurt. DEEPLY. I’m not sure if you sensed it but it’s just like saying that we’re exactly the same bad pomegranate from the garden of Hades. I’m too sensitive, even at the most trivial level.

I PURGED MY NEURONS, HEART AND BLOODY FILTHY SOUL - I’ve basically invested in this project intellectually, (at some point) emotionally and even psychologically. And it’s slowly eating what’s left of my sanity. HAHAHAHA. Wow, how profound. I sense a kickass breakdown waiting to happen. Prozac Power, here we come!

I DON’T EASILY BURN BRIDGES -  I just hold grudges (sometimes, they resurface). I keep my emotions bottled up. I try to control them as much as I can by trying to avoid confrontations and conflicts. (which is bad)  I’m not the kind who flares up easily but when I…crack, I crack like a bullwhip. I easily get irritated– but that’s it. Resilience….Resilience is a different story. After all, I’m a glorified buffer to anything or anyone that self-destructs within a five-mile radius. I’m have a penchant for the broken and the emotionally unstable. Maybe likes do repel. But I am drawn to those who are in pain. WTH is wrong with me. Fuck empathy.

I don’t want to end up regretting the things I said and done. But I guess that’s one of the perks of making yourself vulnerable — of falling in line to take another ride in your emotional roller coaster or dress the psychological wounds that just never seem to heal. With or without the battle scars, I am just not the quitter that I once was. 

But maybe I’m fighting the wrong battle… Maybe I’m just adding nails to your coffin. 

It will take courage and control to finally let things go. I don’t know if I am ready. For now, I will listen to Brandon Boyd’s  debut album (The Wild Trapeze) and lull myself to sleep…