my thoughts. sometimes personal, often too personal.
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passive aggerssive bullshit
Nov 26th
[self censoring]
What do you mean?
[self censoring]
I’m not troubled, just annoyed.
You look more than annoyed…
what are you? the fucking visual police?
[self censoring]
[self censoring]
[self censoring]
it’s always a she, Sherlock!
fine, be condescending…be a prick…you’re gonna die alone you know…it won’t be pretty…they’re gonna find you from your rotten smell…neighbours are gonna think you were a creep…which is partially true…no?
fuck the neighbours…
[self censoring]
so nothing man…boy meets girl, girl meets boy, girl turns out [self censoring], the fucking end.
*slow claps* you’re pretty original you know…I’m only here because of you…so tell me…what’s up?
[self censoring] for once in a really long time, I put my guards down, and I got what I deserved.
which is…?
[self censoring]
get it off your chest…
do you really want me to?
why not?
well…I don’t know…this won’t be pretty…she won’t like it…that’s for sure!
wouldn’t that be the icing on the cake?
I wouldn’t know…I don’t eat cake…
it’s a figure of speech…dumbass!
I know what it is…condescending much?
[self censoring]
[self censoring]thinking this might last a week or two…perhaps a month! before she gets tired of me…or me of her…
and?
I turned around for a second…and then I felt this warm sensation…fused with pain…and a weird smell…I wasn’t sure…but it was there…then all of the sudden the world got darker…as if I just put on some shades…or the sun vanished away…no bang…just pain and the smell…
[self censoring]
not this time…we had our knife fights…I would cut her from time to time and she would cut me…using East-European blokes…they were a lot more effective than I gave them credit…and more talented…but that’s a different issue all together…
what did you use?
[self censoring]
you’re an asshole
I get that a lot…
go on…
well…despite our best efforts to hurt each other, we never really crossed the line…until that forsaken night…
what happened that night?
I turned around…and I saw her eyes…big and round…laced with sorrow…I was no longer sure how genuine they were…then I saw the smoke…dancing in front of her face…as I traced the smoke, to find the source, I found her stretched arms, holding a pistol, equipped with a silencer…
ohh…I’m sorry to hear that…
that makes one of us.
i’ll be disappointed
Jun 22nd
It started the same way it always does. All innocent and naive. I pretended to know what’s going on and life proved me wrong, again.
Sometimes I wonder if all this is real, or is it just the leftovers of my overactive imagination. There are days however, that it feels a bit too real. The pain sinks in, and all I’m left with are those memories, lingering in the corner of my consciousness. I hate those days. I look back, think about what happened, what could’ve been, what is, and what I wanted it to be. I rarely regret anything, but I can’t help but wonder how I got here, and where I’m going next.
And there are days that I feel robbed. I feel like life stole something from me, and now I want it back. It’s hard to let go. I know I should, but it’s really difficult. And I compare, and I hate it. I compare life and opportunities, and they all give me this look, laced with sympathy. I can’t stand it.
Life is moving a bit quicker than usual, and that’s never a good sign. This usually means trouble. Somehow, somewhere, I’ll be disappointed.
-written on 13/05/2010, 7:09 PM
you know what happens?
Jun 22nd
It was one of those days. The ones that don’t seem to work out…the ones that just don’t wanna play nice. Like that little kid in on the airplane, kicking and screaming…and all you wanna do is just take a nap…but the little fucker refuses to give in. So you turn around, smile at him, try to calm him down, and like a little asshole, he just gets louder and louder…and all you’re left with, are the thoughts of the vicious ways that you want to murder the kid’s parents…
In life, you make choices and that is all. All that we have are choices and decisions. There’s always a way, but it’s up to you to choose it…and once the path is picked, all you can is go with it. Regrets make no sense…they never help…you can either learn from mistakes…or you can just kick them aside and be condemned to repeated them. Regretting them changes NOTHING, remember that.
———–
I make these memories…these once-in-a-lifetime memories that never really last that long…they just stick around for a week, perhaps a month…and after that, all that I’m left with is a residue of something that resembles a memory…but it often isn’t.
———–
I’ve lost my way…again. I don’t know where and when, but it has happened. I’ve altered my principals, and I don’t usually do that. Not sure why this happened, but it’s going to change now. I’ve been too understanding. I don’t want to be an asshole, but life has shown me that most people will take your kindness as your weakness, and I’m tired of considering everyone’s feelings. I’m tired of going out of my way in order to make sure that their fragile little egos stays intact. I’m tired of lying about my accomplishments, just to see them gloat about the simplest of feats. No more. People need to know their places, and I’m going to start reminding them.
I know this sounds bitter, but it really isn’t. I’m just tired of hearing other people’s “tips” on topics that they shouldn’t even dare to talk about it, especially to me. They only reason that they allow themselves to be this arrogant is because I’ve let them. I’ve created this bubble for them…a place where they make no mistakes…because I don’t point them out…and in return, I get lectures about how to live my life…I’m no Mr.Know-it-all, but goddamnit, I know a thing or two…and I sure as hell don’t need most of these idiot’s little retarded tips, ESPECIALLY the unsolicited ones…
-started on [no idea] and finished on 12/06/2010, 11:54 PM.
cheers darlin’
Jun 2nd
A whole bunch of people that I know, are getting married…people my age..or close to mine…all getting married.
Let me clarify something here, there is ABSOLUTLEY nothing wrong with that. I don’t know if I’ll ever get married, but that’s just me. I respect everyone almost everyone and their opinions.
But what really tickled my funny bone was the fact that some of my ex-“relationship-buddies” are getting married too, and to me that’s just incredible!!! I mean…c’mon!!
So I was stalking people on facebook, and came across a picture of an old “friend” whom I assume just got engaged (I assume, cause of all the comments, and the ring on her finger, which was the focal point of the picture). I know of the dude as well, only heard good things, so I wish them the best. But as soon as I saw their picture, I immediately thought about this song:
I remember the first time I heard it, it was introduced to me by a friend, we were listening to it in my car and it blew me away. The lyrics, the subtlety of the music, the melody…they all formed a perfect harmony, portraying an agonizing slice in a man’s life. I remember wondering to myself, pondering if I will ever feel what he’s feeling. If I ever get the chance to be so devastated over losing someone. After seeing that picture, I don’t think I will.
When I saw her picture, I could feel my face lighting up, and then a huge smile washed all over it! And all I could think of, was the fact that she can’t cook for shit! I know that sounds terrible in so many ways. And no, I don’t think women are “cooks”, even though cooking is a very important skill, but I just couldn’t help but smile over this silly fact. I just wondered how good of a parent is she going to be…and that surprised me…I don’t think I have ever thought about that before. All my “friends” have been so “temporary” that I never even thought about them as parents. I guess I never really cared.
Then I started picturing her, sitting on a bed, talking to her teenage daughter, (not sure why an image of daughter came to me, but it did) about life before her husband, before “dad”, and wondered if she’ll ever bring me up in that conversation.
“You see” she would utter, “when I was your age, there was this asshole named Rasam.”
Then I wondered if she would be honest with her daughter, or would she skew the story, and colour me as the devil? I’m not sure…but I hope she’s at least honest enough to say that I was a decent dude. Or maybe she forgets all about me…and I never come up. That would suck, who wants to be forgotten? Not me…call me arrogant, but I don’t want to be forgotten.
But all jokes aside, I don’t think she has that many nice things to say about me…so if her future children are reading this, then yes, I wasn’t very nice to your mother, but you shouldn’t take it personally, I’m generally a moody and selfish person. Ohh and your mom was a bitch! I’m sure she’s a changed lady now, but honestly, at the time, she was unbearable! (I have a feeling that I should shoot an e-mail to my lawyer and have him on standby!)
Technorati Tags: rasam,rasami,metalrasam,cheers,darling,darlin,damien,rice,ex,girlfriend,marriage,memories,mother daughter talk
stop it!
Apr 26th
A dark room. Some sort of slow music playing in the background, but it seems as though nobody really cares about which track is playing. It’s just there…to be.
A vibration is felt, the walls light up, and a phone is now shining bright.
I grabbed my phone, it was a new e-mail. I saw the name of the sender, I could feel my pupils growing, grasping every particle/wave of light, just to make sure that I was reading it right…it puzzled me. Its been years since the last time we talked. I glimpsed at the subject, wishing it to be a spam, or an invitation to some sort of event. None, it didn’t have a subject. I hate those e-mails. The ones without a subject are the daggers that pierce my soul. Every fiber of my existence was drowning in curiosity. I needed to read the e-mail. But I exited the application, and turned off my phone.
-Everything ok?
-Yeah…why?
-You look weird.
-I don’t.
-No, you really do…
-I’m just surprised.
-Of what?
-I don’t wanna talk about it…
-You can’t keep saying “I don’t wanna talk about”, “I don’t wanna talk about it”. Life isn’t always about what you want!
-This isn’t the time…nor the place…you wanna bitch at me, do it a bit later…perhaps next week? *said it with a smirk, trying to downplay the situation, hoping it will end*
-No, I’m not bitching…I’m just talking…why is it that every time I say something, you call it bitching. *voice steadily raising* It isn’t bitching, it’s having a FUCKING CONVERSATION DAMMIT!!
I decided to look away, all those years of anger management, yoga and meditation has taught me to stay away from arguments like this. I can never win arguments like this. They usually don’t have a winner, but if they do, I sure as hell know it ain’t gonna be me. So I said nothing and just changed the track, hoping for a decent tune.
-Yeah, ignore it…drop it like you usually do…it isn’t healthy you know…you need to be able to talk about your feelings…you need to share…
-No I don’t. I don’t NEED to do ANYTHING. I don’t wanna talk about it, because I wanna fucking ignore it! You ain’t my girlfriend, you ain’t my shrink, so why do I need to talk to you about anything? *before she had the chance to respond* And for the record, you almost NEVER talk, but you almost ALWAYS bitch…the day you make the distinction between the two, is the day that your boyfriend and I will be fucking ecstatic!
-You’re a Fffffucking asshole!
-Never said I wasn’t…but honestly…see what you did? Had to know huh? Not everything is worth sharing…not everyone has to open up to you…just cause some people tell you all about their lives, doesn’t mean I have to do the same…those insecure assholes just wanna get into your pants…thinking that by telling you how pathetic they really are, you might wanna fuck ‘em…ignorant fuckers…especially [beep], I hate his guts…him and his balding head! SHE DUMPED YOU, GET THE FUCK OVER IT!!!
-Why are you being like this? Relax…I thought you meditate…what happened?
*I take a deep breath, hold it in, and exhale through my open mouth…oxygenating my body…I can feel my heart rate slowing down*
*she continues*
-Feeling better? Good. Listen, I know you don’t have to tell me anything…but you know you aren’t just “some people” to me…[beep] can tell me all his dumb stories, and I’ll listen…but I only like them because I get to share them with you…I like seeing you smile…don’t ruin that for me.
-I know…*in a much calmer tone* I’m sorry…I’m just not mentally ready for shit like this…
-What did it say?
-I didn’t read it.
-WHAT?? *a very confused and pissed off look* YOU DIDN’T READ IT?
-I told you…I don’t wanna talk about it…this included reading it…I’m just ignoring it…it’s a bliss! *with a fake smile*
-You’re too cocky to be ignorant…
-Can you please stop saying that? I’m not cocky…
-*she interrupts* Yes you are!
-*rolls eyes with a fairly deep sigh* meh…
-Wow…no arguments, no fact checks…just “meh”? You ARE tired…aren’t you?
-Of your face…yes…I am
-So mature…You’re just SO mature…
-Just cause you’re older than me, doesn’t make you any more mature…I’ve SEEN your boyfriend you know…not the sharpest tool around…
-*a very serious tone* This is the second time you brought him up tonight…I assume it’s also the last.
-I’m sorry
-Also the second time you’ve said “sorry” tonight…why don’t you stop saying dumb shit, so you won’t have to apologize anymore?
-Why don’t you get off your lovely high donkey and chill a bit?
-So what’s the deal…you can talk to me about it…
-I know I can, I just don’t want to.
-Give me a short version…two sentences.
-I’ll give you two words…deal?
-OK…deal.
-”unfinished business”.
-Ohhh…how long has it been?
-5, 6 years…
-And…?
-I think she enjoys torturing me…
-And you enjoy being tortured…by her anyway…
-As sad as that sounds…I guess you might be on to something
-So…read it!
-*chuckles*
-What?
-You don’t get it do you? I. DON’T. WANT. TO.
*end of part one, part two might never happen*
The End!
