Take It or Leave It

Compounding sense of unease and frustrations, further aggravated by dealing with incompetent and irresponsible realos as well as communication breakdowns with friends. Ironically and very sadly, one is a very close friend, close in all ways, even in terms of proximity. He is driving me nuts, to the edge even. I can't, and have no wish to talk about him to any of my friends because I feel bad doing so. I never thought this day would come. I am losing respect for him day by day and that scares the shit out of me. Spineless, wimpish, whinny wuss of a man. I am only saying it here, I will only say it here. The 'show' will be over soon, it has to go on, I have to finish it with all the bright lights and applause and Kodak moments. It's all so fake and disgusting, but do I have a choice really?

This is only one side of the story of course. I may not be entirely right, and I am probably not. I may have been overly sensitive or just being a cranky old bitch. But yes, a few weeks seem like a long time at this juncture. Let me get out of here in a month's time.

I have been achieving solitude just fine lately. Walking down the streets alone, shopping alone, making plans alone, having lunch alone, drinking and smoking on the balcony alone, retiring to my room earlier than I should. I needed this. I am not depressed like a few months ago. I am just impatient, bored and tired of dealing with things and explanations and playing Mr Nice Guy.

I lost that edge, I need to have it back.

I have been to a coupla gigs and they were good. I feel alive again when I am surrounded by live (good) music and endless flow of (stimulating) conversations and drinks. And ordering my drinks, I seem to be always torn between all the favourite drinks of people I have felt something for, from Becks to Stella to gin and tonic but most times, I always just end up with my personal favourite of Mojito or Cooper's, or go one big round to end up with a Becks again.

So once again I found myself living with (and out of) boxes. I hate the feeling and I hate the smell of card boxes even more. I want to move but not entirely looking forward to it now that things have gone a tad ugly with the realo. I hate dealing with them more than the smell of card boxes.

Well, fucked-up realo is one thing (or one kind), being let down by your closest friends is another.

And then there are couples who make you feel bad about yourself being single and all and then there are couples who are perfectly fine to hang out with. And then there are high-flyers and professionals who make you feel that small about yourself and then there are some who are just way too cool to be defined by what they do or how much they have. Enough said. No need to name names here as always.

I never feel inferior, or annoyed or any of those 'predictable' emotions. I feel sad more than anything else. And I actually thought at my age, I should know my close friends really well and there will be no more unexpected stunts. I s'pose I was being naive and hopeful back there again. I need another slap (which I copped quite a few lately already, figuratively, of course).

Just like the (I dare say) excellent service and communications provided to people I collaborate with or deal with or even eBay with, I never get reciprocated in the same way from realos and most service providers. And most tragically, even for friends, I seem to be giving and giving and putting in effort incessantly but I seem to be the only fool who is doing it one-sidedly. Am I being naive and unrealistically hopeful here again?

Or am I just dellusional? Maybe I am a selfish and rude bastard of a Julian who has no bloody clue on manners and emotions. Whichever the case is, I am allowed to defend myself in all ways. I am not going to apologise and explain anymore.

A friend once said that actually, the sum total of what most couples go through in terms of compromise and grief really makes relationships less palatable. But then again, who doesn't want a soulmate eh?

She then went on to say that perhaps love is just the hope of a promise. It sounds a tad too tragic and practical for my liking, but of all people, who am I to dispute that?

I seem to have made a pact with the devil at some stage, where I traded good relationships for a good career. But then again, there are people out there, and one here right at home, who thinks science is a poor man's job that will never fetch the big bucks. True as it may be, but it is what I do and what I am probably good at. That's all I should care really.

I could have exploded, I could have stated my point of view or throw a hissy fit even, but I am beginning to learn to play the silent fool who just goes along with the flow. I could implode inside or write relentlessly here and I s'pose I could live with that. I have been vocal and honest before and look where that left me?

I am perfectly alright now but I still feel the miss sometimes and on some bad nights, still twist myself into a knot with all the memories playing in my mind and the highly fatal what if's.

Colleagues and friends commented that I am looking real fine nowadays and I am feeling great too, health wise. But hey, even celebs have their bad hair days, yeah?