In Time

I watched quite a lot of movies lately. So far In Time is the food for thought.  

I like the idea of time in the movie. Time is money. The world of life and death will be determined by time, instead of money. Life in the ghetto was all about saving time and running for it, so that everyone is in time for everything. In time to get things done. Have time to live.

It reminded me when I was in high school, just like Will Salas, I always peeked on the time on my watch to see when is the next assignment or task came after the one I was working on. In reality, everybody is equal. Nobody has more time than the other. It's all about time management. But we don't earn the time like in the movie. We were given time since the second we came out of the womb  to manage our time, yet we earn the money, then manage it.

We do give our time away. We give our time away to do people's favor, to clean up people's mess, in exchange to make ourself feel better. But we give our most time away to help people grow their businesses, in exchange of survival.

Don't waste time. Don't put off things you want to do, not until it's too late.

The movie is lack of character development by the way. 

Personality Disorder

Whenever a post get too personal, I'd resist the temptation to turn my blog into private mode. I wouldn't know how it'd effect my career portfolio.

Or my portfolio career.

But then the temptation of watching the blog viewer statistics to go up by day is also great. Just like always, we cannot have the cake and eat it too.

They say: no man is an island. Is that true? I wonder if that's scientifically or philosophically base. As most people, I believe in science.

I told you before, I needed a psychiatrist, still need one. You laughed and shrugged it off, thought I was out of my mind. But you didn't bring me a psychiatrist, even though you thought I was crazy about the idea. I must had laughed at you didn't believe me.

Now you said I have a personality problem. But you still wouldn't admit I'm crazy.

Shaman said my life will only bound by loneliness. I told you I believe it. I don't believe in no man is an island shit. I do well on my own, not with other people, or two people, or many people, or group of people.

Because when I'm with other people, I look crazier than normal. This sums it up:
      
“I've never been lonely. I've been in a room -- I've felt suicidal. I've been depressed. I've felt    awful -- awful beyond all -- but I never felt that one other person could enter that room and cure what was bothering me...or that any number of people could enter that room. In other words, loneliness is something I've never been bothered with because I've always had this terrible itch for solitude. It's being at a party, or at a stadium full of people cheering for something, that I might feel loneliness. I'll quote Ibsen, "The strongest men are the most alone." I've never thought, "Well, some beautiful blonde will come in here and give me a fuck-job, rub my balls, and I'll feel good." No, that won't help. You know the typical crowd, "Wow, it's Friday night, what are you going to do? Just sit there?" Well, yeah. Because there's nothing out there. It's stupidity. Stupid people mingling with stupid people. Let them stupidify themselves. I've never been bothered with the need to rush out into the night. I hid in bars, because I didn't want to hide in factories. That's all. Sorry for all the millions, but I've never been lonely. I like myself. I'm the best form of entertainment I have. Let's drink more wine!”
― Charles Bukowski

A Criminal on The Run

Last night tears had brought me to a realization that I was actually under pressure. What would you call it then? To cry suddenly, without physical happenings around you?

Out of the blue, I've become the criminal on the run with a secret who goes on hiding here and there, duck around from the spotlights and avoid suspicious eyes. When you're an innocent person going on hiding to protect a secret, sometimes it gets tiring while you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, just like in the movie. At the end, you just gonna be brave and raise your hands high to surrender, to give up to be the innocent people. Give up running. And lay the truth on the table.

But what if you've been on the run for a few years now? People are after you and your secret. You have no idea when is the end is going to be. The day when you finally release yourself from all the weight, all the problem and stress. The day you thought you could bring along your little secret to your grave. Then you thought is not going to worth it after all these years you're hiding from the public, if you give up now.

If that's the way it is, what is the end then? Is there an end of it?

Because I see no end of it, so I have to pull myself together and take my very brave step out there. Because I'm tired of hiding.

Finally, you taught me something. You taught me something about you. You choose to avoid, rather than confront. When the secret is out, everybody will be happy, and I'll stop going on hiding.

At least we try. I've already made up my decision. What about you?

The Voice

All this time, I thought I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. I'd make my own decision, and it's going to be a brilliant decision. And then I'd make you proud. Now I cry inside, because I didn't really listened. The voice inside me, was there telling me to stop. Stop at whatever I was going to do. So that I had time to think before I acted. Before it's too late. Before I'd regret it.

Now, you told me it was wrong. And I'd done the most naive, idiotic thing in the world. You told me to wait, but I didn't listen to you. I didn't listen to the voice inside me. I just acted like a child. Behaved like the most children would behave.

What I need most, is a timeout. I want to stop talking to you. I want to think. To think back that crucial moment when I asked you. When I thought it wasn't something big deal for a woman to lose. Or for a man to have. Although I know it doesn't matter anymore when it's too late for everything.

So this is my rebellion. My price. I hope it won't stay in the "genes".

Beating Myself Up

because gun is illegal.

I feel lik...No. I want. I want to make a beeline to the wall and knock my head on it until I feel good. I want to turn my hands into fists and beat myself up until black and blue, until I'm guilt-free. But, I only want, I'm not taking the bull by the horns. I'm a little Jerry. Well, of course Jerry the mouse braver than me.

I want to shout at everyone who ever mentioned "Queensbay! Queensbay! Queensbay Your Highness!" Especially YOU, it was YOU! YOU were the one who said I always locked myself up in the palace, keep myself up day and night, bury my head in the mountain high books. YOU, YOU said I'd detached myself with the outside world. YOU always blamed me, accused me without knowing much about me. Because of YOU, now I have to blame myself on how little my effort worth. Because of YOU, my determination got swayed, my goals became ambiguous.

Now I really blame these all on YOU. I'll never, ever befriend you. YOU dragged me down, when I should be climbing up to top. But because of YOUR distractions, I fell into your trap. I should have known since the first sign, if only I able to identify it.

Soon, I'll have to face it. I'll have to pay the price. But it won't be too long that I'll make redemption. To repent. To get myself back on track and work towards my goals. My so-called ambition.

Among Them

I thought I mix with the wrong crowd. No. I always mix with the wrong crowd.

Most of the time, when I among them, I'm all clamped up. Like a mouse moving around and find a hole to hide inside. If not, I zip it.

RETREAT soldiers! RETREAT!

I thought I could be normal again, if it frustratse you. You seems to have a problem with it when I don't. I guess it's my nature, if you think I'm a weirdo. And yes, you admitted it. Everyone seems to be going that way.

Ok, RETREAT...... RETREAT!! I feel all small again.

Follow to a T

I met a conformist today. A hard-core conformist. Nowadays, I'll have to be wary of what I say. What I do.

Between me and the conformist, I'd consider myself as the freethinker. Freethinker cannot live like the conformist, don't think like the conformist, don't act like the conformist. They either clash, or clash most of the time. And when they clash, conflict ensues. But, I'll only be patient, because when the conformist always facing the freethinker, extend an olive branch is the only way to turn conflict into peace. Since I'm the freethinker, I'm willing to meet halfway, even all the way, as a sign of respect.

Even most of the time, deep down, it's hard for me to swallow whatever the conformist is saying. And I partially agree.

Cram

Tonight, I feel the world hasn't sleep. Not yet.

I should be the one that is sleeping. Supposedly. Because I used to be a diligent student and am a morning person. Hardly burn the midnight oil. But tonight, I'm totally cramming. It's unhealthy habit. The world knows, but its people keep it up.

I hate to jump on the bandwagon. Because I know, deep in my heart, I'm not one of them. This is a mistake. A terrible mistake I won't ever make again.

I regretted. I hate doing this. I'm going to pass it. Keep my fingers crossed.

If not, pray the luck is on my side.

Curve Ball

"Knock, knock."

"Who's there?"

"I'm your new roomie!" I saw her smiling face. But my heart sank lower than the floor I was standing on.

Without any warnings and signs, I felt like the walls around me suddenly crashed down on me. Out of the blue, my independence just got robbed away.

I used to think my post about my Freedom Gray was a little too early. But now it seems just about time! My hunch proved me right!

Her creed and beliefs don't bother me. It's not about her, never about her. It's just the timing wasn't right. I feel somehow, any how, my privacy is invaded. Whatever I did last night, or the last few months, I won't be able to do with another stranger around.

Just imagine: your asshole suck in all the toxic gas back into your stomach, which you supposed to let loose; you're no longer to pluck your underarm hairs and get rid of the chicken skin when you're on your own in the room; you have to make sure the floor is spark clean; and you're no longer to rub smelly-no-more underarms.

It's just too much for me to swallow it all. God definitely blessed that split second when I opened the door. He really knew how to give me a big surprise. 

All About 3Cs

This is what I always believe in life.