100 Years

Wow. Even while blogging important stuff, I still seem to get late.

Today (or rather, March 1) is an anniversary of sorts for me, yet I'm stuck here due to responsibilities, or should I say, debts, again. Dudes here are clearing out trash by the ton here at home, something I could not do efficiently. I wished I wasn't here for the count, since I know that I'm more of a liability when it comes to household chores than an asset. As much as I like helping people out with their needs, I just couldn't help but feel like I've missed out on a very important occasion. I wanted to be alone and take a look back on everything that's transpired over the years, but I was unable to do so. It all started before I woke up...

I've dreamt of her, again. It's just like what always happens day in, day out. No matter how much I try to occupy myself with endless tasks to rid myself of her memory, she somehow manages to linger on in my subconscious. It's irritating, it's excruciating, it's crucifying me alive. I've worked my ass off jumping from one job to another, kept myself busy with close friends, visited some folks every once in a while, collecting as much memories as I can to overwrite the previous ones, but every time I dream, I am forced to watch tormenting flashbacks of how it once were and how it all broke up.

I couldn't take it.

And then slowly I realized that I wasn't the same anymore. Unconsciously I become more of an ass the moment I lay my eyes on the world, pissing people off deliberately without a second thought or a hint of good conscience. Think of Grumpy shrouded with a mental layer of adamantium. Sick.

I didn't want the world to pity me and my dilemma; a guilt-ridden guy covered in a shell of apathy. I know that some people already have an idea about why that loose screw fell, and they know that it's not their place to say anything about it in order to keep me on a stable path. I know how they feel, their efforts are not unnoticed. I just don't want to burden them with mine, so I do my best to just be sane and get along with it. But whatever I can act in the real world is not the same as what's inside this head. It's consuming me slowly. I am experiencing it as I write this.

My life these past three years was only about trying to move on. I got to have at least five affairs after 2007, none of them ever successfully removed 2005 out of my mind. None of them ever had. Even family, friends and workmates. In the end, I am still haunted by that one measly failure, and just like Frodo, I have no way of ever making it go away. At least currently.

There are only two ways that I could go with this. One, I could just endure this for the rest of my life, and two, I could see her again and tell her everything before I succumb to the depths of hell. Yet both choices are as near-impossible as I thought. In my current condition, I am only able to just move along with what the world needs of me. I've got no leeway to have time to solve this or even to think of a plan to solve this anyway. I wish I still have time to buy, time to lose myself, within a morning star.

I'm twenty-plus for a moment, and I'm just dreaming, counting the ways to where you are.