What's wrong with me?

I have no right to do this to him.

What's wrong with me. I wish I knew. He is a perfect guy. He is nice, sincere, educated, tall, intelligent, excellent communicator, caring, loving, thoughtful, reliable, wealthy, family oriented, sensitive and logical, etc... And yet what's wrong with me. It's not only him, there are more guys around, with the same qualifications, Yet what's wrong with me.

This morning he sat in front of me and even cried in my office. All he wants is any type of relationship, anything more than a friendship. " I love you to death. I love every ounce of you,...It's ok with me if you are...I accept every bit of you..."

What else do I want?

I sat still and listened to him carefully and give him the usual excuse; it's not about you, It's about me. I'm focus on my work and trip, lablablab. Who buys that anymore? I think any indication of excuse means NO.

"It's very rare to have the connection that we have. There is such a connection, why are you pushing me away?" he asked.

I'm thinking,Connections?? Connection must be two ways. How does he think that WE have connected? Why is it that people are connected to me and I am not. What's wrong with me??

He thinks that we should get married.

Mystery II

To what extend we shape our destiny still remains a mystery.

We are so insignificant in this world, yet ironically every little steps that we take, could change our whole life. Just like the "butter fly effect" not only our life, but every body else's life as well. Have you seen a movie call, sliding door? Same concept.

Do you really think that you have any control over your life? How many time have you planed something and one thing happened which changed the whole scenario. How many times have you left your house for a particular purpose and you met someone, you got a phone call or... Which changed everything.

Lets put aside our actions for now and go to a smaller scale, just words. Things we say on the daily basis will change lives. Some things as small as three words; I LOVE YOU, I HATE YOU, I CHEATED ON YOU, MOVE IN WITH ME, I'M SORRY, I'M LEAVING, MARRY ME, could change everything at once.

So how much control do we really have over our lives?

What's about?

It's not about what I say
It's not about what you say
It's about what we don't say.

Refrigerator 2

Tomorrow life is a delirious dream
when moon have shadows
of peach garden.

As drunk man is reading
part of his sad symphony tonight
and aches,

Why are we alive?

Refrigerator 1

The refrigerator poems are written in my kitchen by the limited vocabularies of "magnetic Poetry" on my refrigerator door. Here is one of them;

I remember old love
crazy and wild
he whispered one night
if I would be in his arms
I smiled and asked why?

So I smell and lick your beautiful breasts time after time
to play with your bare skin
watching you moan, shake and cry
beneath the misty rain
as wind goes through your hair
and kisses your tiny bitter sweet thighs.

As you look weak in the moment
yet want to make eternal love
and we become one.

Mystery

As I walked into the Peet's Cafe the smell of Dickerson coffee was intoxicating. The dark, rich espresso color chairs and tables with the classic music makes the cafe warm and inviting. There was a long line so I decided to use the bathroom. As I was waiting, I heard a little girl making an uncomfortable sound in the bathroom. I waited a bit longer and finally the bathroom door opened. A tall, chubby guy walked out as he held a little girl's hand. The little girl looked scared and insecure. She avoided my eye contact and rubbed her red eyes. I looked at the guy and I did not like what I felt. He went toward another girl who was standing behind me. She looked like the older sister and they all left together. Why didn't the older sister take the little girl to the bathroom? Why did the little girl looked scared? Why was she crying? Was this little girl being molested?

How much of this observation is true and how much of it is fragment of my imagination, remains unknown. However, assuming that this little girl was being molested then can we fairly say that we were born with free will and life is all about choices? Or is our life already pre destined the minute we were born depending which country, what type of family, rich or poor,what religion and culture our parents had? Are we creators of our lives? Is life really all about choices?What kind of relationship will this little girl chose? Will she hate her mother for not protecting her? Will she become a bisexual or a lesbian? Will she hate men? Will she end up committing suicide? Will she murder someone? Will she become a passive wife and end up in the battered women shelter or will she become a prosecutor to put child molesters like her dad behind the bars?

To what extend life is a destiny remains a mystery.

1 Comments:
shady said...
a mystery that will never be solved... u told me once that all people go thru hardship... some decide to survive it and become stronger and some act like a victim to life... i liked ur statement... we should all be survivors... we should 'will'...
10:18 PM
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