poverty is not a vice

i see some good in her, but i also see the bad. maybe not bad, maybe it's weakness. she wants an easy solution to everything. she wants others to feel sorry for her and offer help. it has come to a point where she is expecting it and when others do not stop to offer her help, then she wonders about the goodness of people.


i have to wonder... what about you? why aren't you helping yourself?


i have learned that helping people is a double edged sword. often it is enabling them to do nothing and expect others to give them things. this is an easy trap to fall into. i recall my first job at a factory. i worked night shift which was 12 hour shift of hard labor. we each were resposible for one furnace of which we had to take all of the contents out every fifiteen minutes. the contents were about 12 stacks of processed chemical each weighting about 20 pounds. some of the experienced workers were very good and fast. they were able to accomplish this task in about 5 minutes which gave them about 10 mins to rest. you needed the rest because in the furnace room it was close to 100 degrees. it took me about 10 mins and gave me about 5 mins to rest. so, once in a while this one particular guy would stop and help me so i can get a little longer rest. the problem is that i started to expect him to help and when he didn't i started to get upset.

this is where this trap of expecting others to help you and feeling entitled to receive help when in fact there was absolutely no reason anyone should have helped me. it was my job to do my task and we got paid to do it. he didn't get paid extra for helping me. it was out of goodness of his heart that he helped and yet, i resented him for not helping all the time.

it is important for each of us to stand on our own two feet and do what you have to do, not cry and complain in hopes that someone will give you something for free.

“‎Honoured sir, poverty is not a vice, that's a true saying. Yet I know too that drunkeness is not a virtue, and that's even truer. But beggary, honoured sir, beggary is a vice. In poverty you may still retain your innate nobility of soul, but in beggary--never--no one. For beggary a man is not chased out of human society with a stick, he is swept out with a broom, so as to make it as humiliating as possible; and quite right, too, forasmuch as in beggary as I am ready to be the first to humiliate myself.” - fyodor dostoyevsky

eternal thunderstorm

often, i get this feeling. that same old familiar feeling...

as long as i can remember, my state of being can be described in perhaps two different moods. first there is sadness. i am not sure where this sadness comes from, but it is always there, that underlying layer of misty fog that sufficates me longing for a ray of light....

sometimes, things make me happy, but only for a moment, followed by the fear of impending doom.

second state is melancholy. it is not a complete sadness, but reflective longing and regret... so, you can probably say that i am always miserable. no, not miserable, just unhappy.

one may think that the existence in such low emotional state can be taxing and perhaps even suicidally depressive. i don't know. i never think about suicide. i just accept it as what it is. what i am, who i am.

people often tell me that i think too much. i have to agree. it is often this thinking process and analyzing that makes me miserable because i am so often disappointed with myself and others for the way we behave and the way we treat one another.

some of it is loneliness i am sure. if i was not alone all the time, i probably would not think so much, but then i am so often very bored with people for the conversations that seems to have no meaning, no point, just rambling to disrupt the silence that can often make us uncomfortable.

i guess, i simply wish there was someone i can truly have deep meaningful conversations about... nothing.

so, there it is... in the end, i want pointless conversation about nothing, like everyone else, but i guess i want it in my terms, disguised in creative wit.

funeral

today, i went to a funeral. there must have been close to thousand people there. i couldn't even get into the chapel where the funeral service was being held. i, along with hundreds of people, stood outside waiting... not sure what i was waiting for.

i ended up leaving after a while. i wondered how many of those people that were there felt really close to this person. surely, a person can not have this many close friends... neither was i a close friend. i just wanted to say goodbye to someone i once knew...

i didn't get to say goodbye, but then i felt okay because there were so many people that wanted to say goodbye...

my funeral, i am positive, will not have more than few relatives and very few friends. i have made sure that i did not have many friends. i am not sure why i do that, but i prefer to push people away than to be friends with people.

i think everyone will be happy at my funeral for having ample space and sitting room.

fairness

she asks me.... "how is that fair? how can there be God?"

i have never said life was fair, and though she seems to think that i am an eternal optimist, i am far from it. i haven't believed that life was fair for a very long time. but then, i don't think it needs to be. life is just life... it's not about what is given to you, but it is about what you do with what you have.

God... i believe there may be God... but if God is truly fair, God would just let things be.... which would be unfair to some (as some would see it), but then what is more fair than letting things be....

she wants to rescue a dog from a bad dog owner, but then i wonder if the dog would truly have chosen to leave his owner. she sees it so clearly that dog wants to be free from the owner, but i am not so sure. it's not that i no longer feel sympathy, it's not that i no longer hurt, it's that i no longer feel that i am the answer for any relief of sadness or hurt in this world.

i weep inside, but i am afriad to reach out my hand in an attempt to help because i am afriad it will end up causing more pain and heartache in the end.... i have a shoulder you can cry on, an ear to listen, and i will shed tears with you, but i can't make it go away or make things right.... i don't even know how to try....

heaven of hell

these are moments that leave wounds in my soul, healing slowly, scars that disappear with time...

are they just small inconsequential events in life or are they paths to destiny and fate? my heart has felt many pains and anguish for all the moments that were, for moments that were not, and for the hearts that were closed, things that were done, and things that were said. yet, my heart still beats just as strong and my hope for tenderness, love, and belief in goodness of people still remains.

the crisp dewy morning air arouse in me feelings of gladness. one can become a victim of circumstances or victor because of circumstances. this path is not what i have chosen for myself, but i am at this moment, choosing to stop, look around, and appreciate the beauty that surrounds me because i have somehow ended up in this path.

there is destiny. no matter where i am, i know it is where i am suppose to be. not because i have chosen all the paths correctly, but because i am here. when i close my eyes and close my thoughts, i can feel it. there is no anguish, there is no regret, there is only comfort, peace, and love because that is who i am, and always have been.

if you were a flame, i would have allowed myself to be consumed completely. abandoning myself, my destiny, my hope for love, tenderness, and joy, in pursuit of your acceptance.

now that i take a step back, i see that my joy lies in pure hearts nurturing one another with love and tenderness, not in emotional battles that tear one another to pieces...

pandora's box

it's been two and half weeks since she decided to move in. it wasn't a choice based on our relationship going forward, but more of necessity due to her circumstances.

i may be falling in love with her, but she still keeps a wall around her heart. she still questions my intentions.

she smokes, stays up till the break of dawn, walks around the house without any clothing, and calls me babe, but then she calls everybody babe. she walks freely as if somehow she is protected from the weight and the stress of the world. she twirls around bare footed, running with her two small dogs, and screams out at some man in a truck for throwing garbage out the window.

i go to bed at eleven, embarassed to be seen when not fully dressed, and call her by her name. i slowly move around being cautious where i place my next step, and avoid people as much as i can.

she says we are just like darma and greg, and it makes me laugh.

she kisses me good night, and folds my lanudry and cleans my house as i slumber, and i kiss her forehead while she is fast asleep as i leave for work each morning.

in three weeks, it will all be over and she will be moving to another city. she is excited about her new job, and new everything. she is a free spirit and i can't stop her from being who she is... i am going to miss her...

enigma

i am not sure how i got here. my head is pounding and i haven't gotten a decent night's sleep in days. it wasn't suppose to be like this... i say to myself. it always seems to lead me here though. that feeling of emptiness and my body aching with imaginery pains created by my own mind... my brain is not suppose to be my enemy. my thoughts are not suppose to control me and hurt me...

she asks me... what is your weakness? i hesitate to answer. even though i know the answer too well, i don't want to hear myself say it, and i don't want her to hear me say it...

my weakness is... love. i love too much too fast... i lose self-control and that makes me lose self-respect... and that always leads me to sadness... that is what i tell her. but i know too well, the problem is that i idealize love and reality never lives up to my fantasy.

she looks at me with her big brown eyes as if searching for the truth beyond my eyes into the deep misty depth of my soul. i didn't turn away, i just stared back into her eyes hoping to see what she is seeing... but, only thing i could see was her big beautiful brown eyes staring at me...

you facstinate me, she says... i wonder if she knows what she is doing to me. i wonder if she knows that she is torturing me with those words. i have dreampt of those words. i have lived for those words to be said to me. but, for some reason, that is not enough. i just don't, i just simply do not.... believe her.

the truth is always difficult to discern from many lies. i have heard too many lies in my life, and none of them ever seems to be simple lies with pure deception, but manipulation of the truth to achieve the desired effect from the other person.

so, i close my heart again, and walk away.

i have to go. i just can't allow myself to be weak, i just can't allow myself to open my heart and lose self-control. because that is all that i have left in me...

but, i know too well that i have already lost that which is so important to me. and for that i will pay the price...