Yoda :: 52151 - Me :: 0

4 years when I started writing on this, I wrote pages and pages of words.
Consistently for almost every single day.
But as time passed, the amount of posting and the length of each post have dwindled.
Now, I might post no more than 2 postings a week and only with simple sentences or just a few words.

I might venture to say that I might have run out of things to post.
But in reality that won't be exactly true.
The issue most probably is me having run out of ways to say them.

I try to be as creative as I can when I do these kinds of exercises.
It’s a way for me to ignite both sides of my brain in both creative and logical thinking.
Yet that now seems to be harder to pull off.

I know you guys don't really mind how I write.
Bully basically enjoys my ramblings just fine the way it is now.
But it’s a personal standard that I want to maintain.
I would like to keep things interesting.

Like the way my Idol does it in his place.
Though he too have slowed down considerably.
With his new job and a new town.
He has his hands full.

I opt to stay put and concentrate more on something I already know how to do but to do it better.
Not working as well as I planned.
My mind is resisting my decision to push it further.
It keeps finding ways to detour me from actually finishing it.
Or is it my inner voice that is trying to tell me something.

But as I said in my 12 day post, something came back to me after being missing so long.
My passion to excel.
My motivation to push things further.
My ego to tell people to shove it.

That "boom" factor that I never knew I lost until it came crashing back into my face.

So now, I am picking up the pieces.
I had been trying to pick them up since a year back.
Now I am going to stop trying and just pick up where I left of.

Yoda's teaching rings true again.
"Do or Do not. There is no try."
There.
He wins again.

9 Days later ...

Am in my mid thirties and I feel like I am at my late sixties.
As if everything is blurry and nothing comes to focus.
The fire is not roaring any more.
And most days it seems as if it’s fighting to keep from being snuffed out all together.

Yes people, that’s what it feels like when you get "Male Menopause".

This is a follow-up for the 12 days post.

Thanks for all the well wishes and caring hugs.

I do so appreciate it.

Have been talking to the wife about this during my beach side vacation last weekend.
Was hoping to find some peace within myself and if possible rekindle the fire.

What I got was something else that I did not expect.

I love my wife a lot.
And I have always wanted to believe my wife loves me back as much.
But she has never told me so.
Ever.
She does love me that I know.
But how much?
I could never tell.

That is until last Sunday.

Am not going to go into details but she gave me something that I had wished for in a long time.
An answer to a nagging self-doubt.

So yeah.
Let's see if I can make the fire burn brightly again soon.

12 days ...

It’s been 12 days since I last posted here.
A lot can happen in 12 days.

A person can suddenly realize that the world is not as blue as they thought.
A mother can suddenly find that she does not understand her children.
A dog might grasp the concept that its does not have a master any more.

Yes.

A lot can happen in 12 days.

Don't worry, nothing happened to me.
Not physically anyway.

Mentally, I think I am still sane.

Yet something did happen.

I found a piece of myself.

It was stuck somewhere and got lost from the main body.

Time passed.

It kept seeking a way back to me.

And now it has.

Though it is part of me still, it felt foreign at the same time.

It’s been so long.

So very long.

Fractured thalamus, solven dreams.

The kind of pain we go through daily is immense yet quiet.
We have no true way of expressing without feeling lost.
Like being blown off our feet by nothing more than a simple whisper.

Holding so much within.
Its a miracle we all don't just explode into tiny pieces.
Could it be maybe from guilt?
Feeling that we should be stronger?
Wiser?
Better?

Does it have to make senses?
Does anything have to be so well defined?

My mind yearns for a realized path.
A release from the chains of ignorance.
Yet it fears it as well.
Fear that is not entirely baseless.

Look what knowledge brought to Adam & Eve?
Banishment.
Exile from Eden.
The place of ultimate peace.
Our haven from it all.

Is knowing really better?
My mind argues with itself for the answer.
I doubt there will ever be one.

Sponge bob ....

Have you ever been in a situation where you are being strip search with another person's eyes alone?

If you are a beautiful girl or a handsome man, maybe that happens a lot and you are used to it.

But me, I am your common everyday fungi that hold nothing interesting visually what so ever.
If you were to see me in person, you eyes would have just slink away to something else without even knowing it.

So if and when people were to pay attention to me, two things come to mind.
Firstly, what in the world is she looking at?
The second would be "Is my fly undone?"

Thus we start with my newest dilemma.
Why am I attracting people’s attention?

Now if this were to happen once within a day, I would say "just a coincidence".

But when it happens several times in a day for a few consecutive weeks.
That becomes something of a problem.

Did I mention that it has escalated to the point where I was groped in public?
I shit you not.
I have NEVER been groped by a stranger before.
NEVER.
I don't even get groped by my wife and especially not in a public area.

And yet it happened.

This is the kind of thing that happens in a movie but not real life.

So why is it happening to me?

Yes, it was just the once and I COULD be paranoid.

But what if I told you that people have been "exposing" themselves to me knowing full well that I had 100% access to the visual candy.
And it has happen twice under different circumstances, during different time and day.

The most recent one being this morning.

Like all working days, I take the Light Rail to work.
It’s convenient and allows me the time I need to catch up on my reading.
The traffic was normal and it was moderately packed.

So there I was dutifully reading "Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief" when this young nubile girl suddenly appeared in front of me.
The place where I was standing is not exactly the most comfortable one within the train so it’s less crowded as people tend to avoid it.
Normally my neighbors would be young kids or old geezers who do not want to be bothered.
So imagine my surprise when she showed up.

She is what I term a looker.
Someone who will definitely capture male radars.
Wearing a light colored shirt, a bluish skirt and a black DELL bag over her shoulder.
The shirt was what you will call "flexible" and could be made to expose or hide her goods at will.
And in this case, it was set to expose.
Full exposure.
I could see right down her cleavage and her pink bra.
The best part was that the view was meant for me alone.

If you were to stand beside her, her shirt would block the view nicely.

Now you can still say that I paranoid.
I mean, girls have always dressed to make statements.
"I am sexy"
"I am beautiful"
"I am not yours"
The kind that I am used to.
But this one was very different.

What if I told you that she looked at me directly and smiled?
Yep.
Smiled.
The kind that one gets when you are invited over for coffee and more.

What did I do?
I blushed, or course.
Deep dark red blushing.
I must have looked like a Christmas light bulb.

She noticed and did a giggle.
Which made me go redder.

Blood was coursing my veins in speeds too fast for my comfort.
My brain would be mashed if I did not control my breathing soon.
So I purposely put my ring finger in front of her while pretending to shift my book and smiled back.

She saw at the ring and looked back up as if saying "So? What’s the problem?"

It’s been a while since I had been in the game.
But I am pretty sure I have NEVER been approached this way before.
Maybe if I was still single, I would have taken it up.
But as it stands now, my heart belongs to my other half.

So I did what I always do.
I walked away.

I shifted my body away from her and moved towards the other end of the cabin.
Got off in the next stopped, which incidentally was the one before I intended, and walked the rest of my way to work.
Letting the warm morning sun burn away the tension that set between my legs.

I hope these stops soon.
My pants are killing me.

Anal retention control ...

News Bulletin.

Every principle credit card is now required to pay RM50 to the government as service charge.

That means if you are like me you will be paying an extra of RM300 for the privilege of owning 6 credit cards.

Don't get why I need so many of them?

Most of my cards have specific roles to play.

I have one card for internet purchases.
I have one card for fuel/petrol purchases.
I have one card for my monthly expenses.
I have one card for my every day usage.
I have two cards as backup for emergency usage which requires more than RM10k swipes.

So now that there is this RM50 surcharge requirement, I will be forced to throw my backups away.

Maybe combine my internet and fuel purchases into one card.

So I end up needing at least 3 cards to better control fraud possibilities.

What a pain.

But this of course is my own fault.
Banks don't really like me for my practices.
As I pay off all my bills every month.
They don't get to catch me with interest fees.
Mainly because of this practice of mine, all my expenses are easy to keep track of.
And I know where exactly the problem lies whenever it happens.

Nope.
Banks never like me.
I am too anal retentive for their liking.

Hit the enter key ...

Setting goals and meeting them.
Its easier said than done.
There so many self help books out there addressing these issues that so much so the books themselves are the issue.
With so many advice which one of them is the one that is correct?

At least thats what a normal human being will end up doing.
Doubting themselves even more before they even begin on the path to recovery.

So what is this thing that stop us from being more?

Fear?
Laziness?
Faithless?

Notice that I don't even mention words like depression, stress or confusion.
Thats because I do not believe that they are cause, rather they are merely symptoms of the illness itself.
Yes illness.

Not the kind that the general practitioners look at.
Nor is it the kind that the 100 dollar per session psychiatrist version.
But it is an illness none the less.
An illness of the heart and not of the mind.

Without properly diagnosing the illness, the cause won't surface.
And I speak from experience when I say that people who do not live their life fulfilled are not those that are simple minded.
They have high IQ's.
The can even have high EQ's.
But it won't be enough.
Smarts have nothing on this.

We are in the situation where a person who knows what they should do and how to do it without the "heart" to carry it out.
There is no fuel to push them onwards.
There is no will to go on.

If people paid attention to the statistics in the world, I am sure they will find that the numbers of suicides and divorces are getting higher and higher by the day.

They say its a social disorder that infects the weaker within the population.
And they are not far off from the mark.
The truth of the matter is that people just gave up on their life because they have nothing to live for.
The daily grind literally grinds the living out of us.
The heart is crushed and spit on without any sign of ever slowing down.

Its as if we no longer matter.

Where has the will gone?
Where has our heart wandered off?

Thats where faith has come and saved me.
Yes, faith.
Those of you who thinks that I am talking about religion is only half right.
Faith is about believing in something.
Some believe strongly upon themselves, we call them egomaniacs.
Some believe strongly upon religion, we call them fanatics.
Some believe strongly upon science, we call them squints.
And these are the people who gets things done.
Primarily because they have the "fuel" required to move pass obstacles.

I am a man of faith.
I believe in GOD, Science and myself.
So I can be labeled as a fanatical-ego-manic squint.
Its not too hard to imagine me taking up a sword and just bulldozing my way through life and all its obstacles.
Its not even hard to accept that I don't take no for an answer other than those that comes from my wife.

So what is my point?
What is the moral of this post?
I am not sure.
This is from one of my theraphatic writing exercise in which I just put whatever is in my mind into words.

Maybe I just wanted a reason to explain why I get angry at people who keep telling me that things can't be done.