Today I had a conversation with someone that had me thinking all through the night over beers and Fifa Street, so much so that I thank Marley for Melatonin pills because if it weren’t for them I would have real trouble sleeping tonight. I believe you know about Thursday, and out of that night a lot of stuff has happened… my cleaning of the House of Rob continues, it seems, and I’ve been met with a surprising array of support, something I’ve never been quite comfortable receiving. They have all been a great part of my life and have made me who I am today, and they all want me to see this through as much as I do. Nobody knew what was going to happen that Thursday night and the repercussions of my actions are still felt today; I was told earlier that having a feeling like that for someone for so long seems like such a lost cause… I wonder how much of a pessimist does a person have to be in order to come to a conclusion like that? I love this person dearly, but it seems to me that life has beat her up enough times, given her enough disappointment that she’s given up on the whole thing. She doesn’t believe in optimism or in hope or the little things we take for granted. I’ve known this feeling for quite a long time (moreso because I’ve locked it away in the darkest cell of the most perilous dungeon in the halls of my mind) and in all of my years with it I’ve asked myself every possible question I could ask about it: is it infatuation? Is it obsession? Is it really “love?” Who are you to tell me what the “L” word is, if you’re just as clueless as I am? Don’t you just know when something like that comes knocking down your door? I strongly believe in optimism and the power of idealism so you’d be talking to the wrong person about defeat, but when someone tells you that what you’ve been carrying around for so long and tried so hard to get rid of is a lost cause, it’s somewhat of a stab to the chest… I didn’t know whether to feel hurt, insulted or both.

Whenever I start a “thing” with someone I always warn them about my extensive emotional baggage and how I’m dangerous and how they shouldn’t get any ideas and they always agree, maybe thinking that things would change overtime or what not but it never does… I keep hearing the “number two” phrase a lot. “As long as she’s there, I will always be number two.” “How can I sleep with someone who’s in love with somebody else?” Before I wouldn’t care since I’ve always said that if something wrong happens in my relationship with you then it’s between me and you; our bagagges don’t have a thing to do with any of it. This week, though? It all made sense to me… it’s all made sence to me.

The Bastardizer was in court all day today battling for child support, and his ex-wife said, among other things, that his Porto Diao site sold “electronic equipment such as Nintendos” and would rake in “at least $1,000 a month” from said sales. Now, I’m pretty sure none of the member of PortoDiao.com are selling anything via the sites, so I can only imagine the look on my friend’s face as this girl hurled one piece of misguided information after another, all in the hopes of screwing him over and juicing him for all he’s got. This girl, it seems to me after hearing this, would go to great lenghts to cripple and maim my friend. Oh, love exists alright. As you can see, people love to destroy each other all the time. My perception of love is when you do thing involuntarily and you realize you do them until either you or someone else tells you what it is you’re doing exactly. It’s constant discovery, knowing that there’s someone out there that knows you can be the best person you can become and excel… be your own being. Love is believing that things can be better. Hell, that’s my perception, anyway. Some people believe it’s a lost cause and I can’t blame them for believing that; no one said it would be easy. A lost cause. I am a lost cause. Doesn’t carrying this thing around for 6 years count for something? You’d think someone would notice how fucking rare and remarkable that is… modesty aside. I haven’t heard of anyone in my proximity that can make that claim. Los cause? Perhaps, but now that I know what it is I’m damn proud of it, so much so that I’ve put it in my chunk of the Internet for the world to read, laugh and cry about it. Doesn’t that count for anything? How far would I go for something I want? Pretty fucking far, it seems. Far enough to clean up years of mainstays and chances for remarkable events in my life. I want to confront this that bad.

I don’t know how big this baggage is, but I do know it’s important and beautiful to me. I think that’s why I’ve kept it tucked away for so long… it’s like collectionists who lock away their most prized possessions so that only they can appreciate them. It’s so big yet so small at the same time…it has no form; it just is, and I’ve accepted it that way all along. I’ve seen other latitudes, other people, other perspectives for days, months, years and no matter what, it always manages to pick off the locks of its prison and run out to the open, where I deep inside believe it belongs. The ultimate representation of my freedom… my love for another. Corny, isn’t it? I’m scared. Like a deer in the headlights scared. I don’t want to let anyone down… I’m scared of fucking up like I fucked up last week, of thinking too much, of not thinking enough, of not being able to come up with a smartass answer to whatever question that arises and worst of all, I’m scared of finally being seen as the disarmed individual that I am. Lost cause… maybe that’s what I am. A broken down, pathetic lost cause. It’s funny how in movies they always show that in situations like these the girl always realizes what a great thing she’s got in front of her and how much of a fool she would be if she let it pass but sadly, we’re not in a movie world. In this world, people seem to be ridden with fear. Fear of living, of pushing their boundaries… of doing what they really want. In this world, people like what’s “safe.” That, to me, is a lost cause… in a way or two, at least.

How far would you go to get what you want? How much will it take for you to get off your ass and do something great and exciting with your life? What does it take for you to open your eyes and realize what great things you have in front of you? How much will it take? I’m wide awake (in the figurative sense, because the Melatonin kicked in 10 minutes ago and I’m seeing the sheep already) and I see myself as a fool who’s setting great things aside just because he needs to find out about something he’s been carrying around for too damn long. I’ve been given the license by everyone who was ever affected by this thing to go find myself what I’ve been looking for and that sacrifice is something no one’s ever really done for me. “Sacrifice…” it’s funny how big words are used whenever someone speaks about emotions.I think I’m going to sleep… thank you for reading, and hopefully this will sink in and perhaps make you do something about your life.

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