Woe is me

Do I have to wake up?

No seriously do I have to? Let's see whats my schedule for today. No, I don’t really keep a schedule it's just in my head. I’ll have to eat breakfast and…. yep that's it. I have to take all my meals, get a shower and that's pretty much it. There is nothing else I want to do today. I have no plans whatsoever. Sadly the universe doesn’t adhere to my wants so I have to go to my job. Lovely place. I don’t like it but it is lovely. It kind of depresses me though that I have no personal reasons to get up from bed early. Well, the job is of course for me, for my financial needs but it's not something I ‘want’ to do. Those who do the job they want are really lucky or unlucky, depends on the person.

Alright, time to less be a spoiled man child and actually get up. God my head feels heavy. I stayed awoke real late last night. Listened to some music. Watched some porn that sort of thing. I got lucky and found some premium stuff for free. I never understood the appeal of premium though. It's just longer. Like really long. Usually, you can find the best parts cut and compiled anyway so why pay for it? Does someone really watch the whole thing? I can’t imagine. Or maybe someone really just wants to give the actors their money as a form of gratitude. He or she must be really nice person to do that.

I realized the first thing on my head this early in the morning is the porn I watched last night. I felt greatly ashamed so I just slapped myself. It hurt just a bit. I say early morning but it was actually 9 am which was early enough for me. My job is at 10 so this was as early as I needed to get up. I made myself some coffee. I learned a technic in making coffee in some book I read. It wasn’t very detailed or anything and it was very simple. So I always did it when I get the time. Honestly, I don't feel any difference in doing it this way than doing it normally. But I do it anyway.

It makes me feel I can actually do something. Or maybe my brain just thinks it's better somehow. Or maybe I just love doing it anyway. There must be some complex psychological reasoning for this but I don’t know. I don’t even know where to begin looking. What would I search for?
“Why do I make coffee a certain way when I know it doesn’t make any difference?”
No, no that's stupid.
“Why do we feel a certain compulsion to do certain things in a certain way even when there is no tangible difference in them.”
Better but too long. It seems my googling skills have waned. Maybe I should go in a forum or something and just ask. One thing I learned is that nothing is unique to you. Someone somewhere out there is and has been doing the same thing or something similar.

Most people are other people. One’s thoughts are just anothers opinion, one is the others mimicry, one’s passion is just another quotation.

I got that line from a movie I watched two days prior. It was a long and boring arthouse movie. It was one of those movies you watch and say you liked to impress your art hoe girlfriend. I don’t have an art hoe girlfriend. Then why the hell I bothered and watched the whole damn thing? Maybe I just have grown to be a boring person. I wonder how someone dictates another as boring. Everyone lives a life, life is an unfathomable amount of strings all jumbled up and in different colors, and in shapes we don’t understand. To summarize a person as boring, really how much of a high horse you need to be in? Yet I think of myself as a boring person. It’s strange how we are ready to accept the worse rather than something boring.

Ready to accept a dangerous job rather than a tedious job.
Ready to accept a tacky ridiculous person than someone boring.
Ready to watch a poor action flick than some slow-burn profound movie.
Ready to play a brain-dead shooter than a methodical video game.

The thing is, I’m the same. While I can’t understand why that is. I am very much in the same boat as everyone else. Hypocrisy really.

Though I do sometimes admire the boring things. I believe people tend to get tired of something that isn’t boring, rather than something that is boring.

I’d rather keep listening to a boring piece of Mozart music, rather than get tired of listening to any catchy pop songs.

I have the leisure for something that is boring, rather than getting bored by something. Which why I never understand how some people re-watch any sitcoms. Just thinking of someone re-watching a whole sitcom has put in dispair!

I’m already on the bus and on my way to work. I always have my mind elsewhere while doing things. Does that count as multitasking? I always did have my head in the clouds. Even as a child I remember always thinking about things that weren’t right in front of me. I read somewhere this why I have poor concentration. It said that to increase concentration level you don’t have to try hard at some increase concentration training or something.

Just look around you and concentrate on the things surrounding you. I decided to do just that. I looked outside of the window. People cars shops trees etc are just passing by. Nothing all that interesting. I looked at the interior of the bus. People young and old. That old man is just sitting there doing nothing. That woman is holding her kid absentmindedly. Those kids are using their phones. Hmm, this is harder than I anticipated.
Oh, right I have a phone. I pulled out my phone and started browsing all the social media apps. Wait, wasn’t I suppose to concentrate on stuff? Damn it. Whatever leave it. No need to pressure my brain so early before work right? God, I’m such an easy quitter. I work in just another fancy-schmancy corporate building. Beautiful, pristine, and devoid of any personality.

When entered the room I worked the smell of AC filled my nostrils. Well, I at least think it's the AC. When you enter someone's house it always has a smell unique to that house. It creates a certain feeling and whenever you smell something similar it always reminds you of that house. Offices have this certain smell too. But it's devoid of the soul. Always cold and unwelcoming. I always hate it when I smell something similar and it reminds me of my office.

My eyes darted towards my desk and then to the desk next to me. Yep, she’s there. A new co-worker who had joined very recently. She’s already made herself a place in here. She seems diligent and works without any fuss or indirect troubles. A role model of a worker. As come over and pull back my seat she looks at me. Yep, there's that look. That cold indifferent look. Her face is always like this. Uncaring undermined. It's a strange kind of somber look. Melancholic in a way. I love it so much.

“Hey.” She says.
“Hey” I reply.

That's enough pleasantries for the both of us. I recall the first day she was here. The boss man introduced her. She had that face that day too. She always has. Even when she smiles. Even if she cracks up she returns to that look. It's not really that she's sad or anything. It's just how she looks. Something tells me I have the same look. So I know it's not that. Maybe that's why I’m so attracted to her. She stays calm and silent when she talks her voice is really soft. But she always speaks clearly so you never mishear anything she says. Must have been an honor student.

If I have given an impression she’s an uptight office lady with her hair upright, with a formal uniform and nerdy glasses (though that’s pretty hot too) then I have failed to give a correct impression of her.

She’s actually wearing a hoodie and sweat pants with her hair all loose and free. I’m wearing a hoody and pants too. That’s because this isn’t really that kind of glamorous corporate life I talked about just a minute ago or at least not yet. This is a new rising tech company with a young handsome CEO with ambitions higher than I can ever imagine.

These types of offices are usually smaller in scale and have a ‘youth’ aesthetic to them. So you’ll have a poster, shiny bright colors, decorations, and stuff. Honestly, I hate it when they do that. I find it no different than when giant corporations on Twitter tries to appeal to the internet culture with tweets that basically feel like an old man way behind the times saying “Oh hello fellow kids, whats bippiti bopping today eh?” or something like that.

An office should be clean, pristine, solid colors that sort of stuff. The wait wasn’t I just saying offices like that were devoid of soul? Actually, I think I just hate this office thing. Slaving away behind a desk with a tie that binds me like a chain my ancestors wore around their necks. Wait I don’t wear ties. I actually like ties. But for some who don’t, those would surely feel like chains.

Then again I don’t mind slaving away as long as I get pay right. While I don’t make enough, it's enough to just pass by. And my job isn’t that hard too.
All I have to do today is, open up this file my boss send me, look it up, do some corrections, make similar files, and for fuck sakes who the fuck even cares. I don’t and no one should either. Does this even matter? What fucking change does this to the world to make it worthwhile.

Damn it. I really shouldn't stay up on an office day. My angst is going over to a point that even I’m getting annoyed by it.

“I’m gonna get some coffee, you want some?” I ask her.
“Sure.”

I get up and go to the coffee machine. Free coffee is a blessing from the lord. This is my second coffee of the day. Honestly coffee is useless in keeping you awake. It only makes me want to take a dump half an hour later.

I bring back the coffee to her. She takes it and puts it on her table. I sat on my chair, relaxed a bit, and took a sip of my coffee. It tastes just like the one I made this morning…..sad.

She’s already started. Whatever she's doing. Typing away with her delicate fingers. Her eyes fixated on her screen. Even if I keep looking at her while sipping my coffee all creepy like, she woudn’t even notice. Or I think she doesn’t. That sort of concentration is hard to find these days or at least feigning it.

She’s the type who knows what she’s doing right? Like she knows exactly what she wants and knows how to go about doing it. I find it purely fantasy. How does one do that? How do they know what they were doing now is exactly what they are supposed to be doing. Like when I’m doing anything really if I even have a second of brief pause to reflect, I’ll always ask, is this what I am supposed to do? Is this the best thing to do now, at this moment?

This is why I’m always devoted to movies. When I’m watching a good one I’m so into it all my thoughts are naught. I don’t have to think about myself. Every single moment where I don’t have to think about myself is a moment of true joy. People may look down on this type of escapism I honestly don’t find anything wrong with it. It’s just a brief refresher really.

With my coffee finished I devoted myself to work. I finished my job straight without getting distracting once, there were days like these as well, when I’m also a model worker. Everyone has their good days, I believe even a supervillain on a good day could do much good than any hero on a bad day. The joker makes a kid suffering from cancer have a good laugh once last time as some kind of sick joke, the Batman kills every Banes henchmen on an emotional rampage. Someone should write something like that up.

It was almost lunch break. I don’t bring any food from home so the cafeteria it is. I waited for her to finish. She goes to the cafeteria as well. She usually sits at an empty table if possible. I’ll just have to sit next to her before anyone else and hope for no one else to interfere. I know it sounds childish but I missed out on teen love so I would like to know how it feels like to have lunch with the person you like. It kinda misses the point when it's not mutual but hey what can you do.

So it went just like I had hoped to. We talked, mostly about the job and other empty stuff. Alright, man. This is the perfect time. Just ask her. “Hey wanna get some drinks afterward?” It's that simple. It’s Sunday tomorrow. There is no reason not to ask. Just do it. It’s not that hard. She woudn’t even say no.

“You’ve been working so hard since day one, it makes me feel like I’m slacking off” Initiate more small talk.
“Don’t blame me for your laziness.”
“I just did.”
“Why do you keep skipping though? I can understand not coming at all. But coming and then leaving in the middle of the workday?”

She was referring to the fact that I love to sneak out of my job sometimes. The days where I just can’t bear to look at the screen anymore I just leave. Due to this being a pretty new startup they don’t take it as seriously as they should. Or they are just binding time, the moment someone qualified works in here that's the end for me. Good, I want to get fired anyway. Then again what am I going to do if they do? I haven’t thought this through yet.

“Bad habit. Then again you can probably do my work too who needs me anyway?”
“I’m not that workaholic that you give me credit for. Besides, I’ll leave this job in a few months anyway.”
“Huh? Why?”
“I just need some money for capital. I’m thinking of opening a business with a friend of mine. We tried back last year but we bombed it. This time though, we will do it. 100%”
“What kind of business.”
She then proceeded to passionately explain her goals. It was some kind of teaching program. Honestly half of it went through my head. What genuinely impresses me though is her steadfastness. Not only she failed so hard she was almost in debt. But now she’s ready to try again after gathering just enough money for it.

It honestly baffles me. If I failed on time and then get a straight job I woudn’t ever look back. Even if I had the initial goal in mind, just working for 6 months would be enough to quit the idea altogether. Honestly, how does she does this? How does anyone do this?

“Your amazing” is the only thing I could say

Lunchtime was over. So now we are back to our seats. I realized I in the end didn’t ask her. She working just as diligently as before. With that somber-looking face facing towards the screen. God, I love that so much. I told a friend of mine about my predicament once and he asked me. Say, what do you actually like about her. I was a bit confused honestly. I had no answer. Her face I guess. My friend was well a bit disappointed. I just don’t know man. For now, is that too much of a wrong answer?

While sitting there doing my job I suddenly felt happy. I don’t know why. I simply enjoyed being. For some reason I just did. For the next few hours, I felt really good. I did my job cordially, Probably because of the lunch. A filled stomach always makes me happy. I smiled when I talked, I talked warmly to everyone. Usually, I hate everyone at this job. Everyone is mind-numbing. I’m sure there is an interesting person inside, but the one they present to me is anemic. What disgusts me most though, I know that I must feel the same to them. You tend to hate the part of others that most represent you. Thinking about it waned on my mood though.

I finished my work right up to the amount I needed to. She said she wanted to overtime today. I said she needn’t push herself. She said it wasn’t any problem. Saying goodbye I left the building.

It was awfully cold out. What is this September? Shouldn't be this cold. I walked around a bit. I thought I might as well walk home today. It surprised me I didn’t know the road all that well. I don’t think a lot when I walk. I am quite scared I will get into a road accident really. I really, really don’t want any broken bones in my body.

The roads are filled with familiar people. I probably never saw them before. But they feel like they were meant to be here. Millions of years of data running through my DNA somehow make sense of it. All these people, infrastructure, coming to my eyes through substance I can’t actually ‘see’ but ‘see’ because of it. It’s weird that when you start thinking about it, the familiar start to feel the most strange. Sometimes I keep staring at my hands and I just get weirded out. The hell is this thing! A meat slab that has five thin meat wrappings poking out of it. And when I move the fingers? Shit feels alien.

Suddenly, I saw a peculiar man. Wearing a white hat and a ukulele on his hands. He was singing. I found his singing absurdly beautiful. It was a folk song, very familiar. And the way he sang reminded me of sweet memories of childhood where my sister would sing the same song every other day. He wasn’t street performing either. He was just singing. I guess even that happens these days. He’s just singing and walking. After a while, he’s out of my sight. And soon after the music stopped coming too.

When I realized it. A certain sadness enveloped me. I felt so sad I could cry. It was hard for me to even stand up I sat on the nearest seat. And I sat there.. I just sat there doing nothing, thinking nothing, just looking at things passing by. Sedans, sports, man, woman just passing by.

Is it really that strange for a man to cry? I find that when women cry they are perceived as cute or something of an attraction. But when a guy cries? Not that much. Maybe I need a women's opinion on this though. Sometimes I really want to cry but can’t. I’m just not that tearful or emotional. I sometimes do get emotional and get watery eyes but rare. I have a sick liking when that happens. I hear some people can cry whenever they want. What a powerful skill to have. Though since they are fake, does the inkling of wanting to cry goes away? Maybe because I am a man I can’t cry easily.

What is a man anyway? A man is who is infinitely kind to everyone he loves and who is infinitely cruel to everyone else.

I can’t be cruel to others. Nor I can be nice to myself. Nor I can only be kind towards others. Nor I can only be unkind to me. Quite the dilemma.

I wondered about how things would be so different for every person if a single thing was changed. I find the whole multiverse theory a cop-out. Since we don’t understand a thing we just simply go a way around it. Then again I don’t know much about it. Like, imagine if we actually did cross the border of time and space and talked to ourselves? Imagine for sure we know that there are not only one but infinities of myself out there. My sense of self is already weak I don’t want to delude it any further. Anyways just imagine seeing one of my versions being more successful than me would bring me great pain. A version that is happy with her. A version where she is sleeping on top of me, naked. with not a care in mind.

My mind tends to circle back at her at times. It bothers me to admit that I have many times daydreamed of us together. How it would've felt. Being cuddled by her, hugging her for no reason, her pampering me, I pampering her, and other wonderful things I wished happened. I guess when you don’t have much to think about you can have degenerate thoughts like mine. My moronic want for puppy love is self-evident to my mental immaturity in certain things. Emotionally connecting to one is so foreign to me that it’s hard for me to even imagine. That is why when I see these bonds around me, I always tend to think they are faking it, or it’s just that they haven’t realized they are or are just blinded by social obligations or tradition. Tradition is what makes decisions like these so easy. Because it's how we did it then that's how we should do it. But for someone who can’t connect to these traditions, he is an outcast, a really lonely man.

I believe the only true bond can be between a dog and its owner. The only reason being one and the other is completely devoted to each other. One is a simple being with one-dimensional understanding the other being a person of multitude dimensions to recognize the one dimensional understanding. It’s because of the complete understanding that they can truly emotionally bond.
But when it comes to one human to the other it’s a complete mess.
It really must be my naivete to expect such things or to completely miss a point that is apparent to others. If it is the latter I hope someone tells me one day.

I lied down on the seat. I put my right hand on of my head covering my eyes. I always sleep like this otherwise I can’t fall asleep. I decided I won’t go back home tonight. Today I’ll try being homeless. Going to stay all night outside shivering all the way through. I remember watching a movie where a girl who was homeless ends up studying at Harvard, it's based on a true story too.

How wonderful. So I’ll try to be homeless tonight. Not that it will make me suddenly studious. Honestly, I just want to try it see how it goes.

It feels hard. The chair under me, the strange darkness of the sky. Everything. I have no economical or political ambition. So I will always live life as I have right now. Even If I want to make money in the long run. I will say, does it really matter? I see some people saying how wonderful! The man is living fairly without any needs or wants. What a romanticist! A bohemian! I say it's terrible. Glorifying the mundane is good and all but when it wears off it becomes nothing. The emptiness is then hard to fill or ignore. I wonder when people say they feel empty they mean this. It’s scary. Really scary.

I sometimes think I might just like being this way. Deep in my psyche I simply enjoying being in my own torment. In some objectivist mindset, it may be thought that I have really chosen this. One must say, it's only because you want to be poor that you are poor. I can’t completely deny the fact. Sometimes I really do enjoy my misery. A very twisted psychotic mental masturbation maybe.

Ok. This is a bit too much for me at the moment. I oughta drown in my sorrows with a drink. No amount of escapist media could help this mood. I need to get drunk. Well, there goes my homeless plan. The best part of being so frivolous person is I don’t even care when I give up anything anymore. It’s so easy. I love it.

I don’t understand how the term drowning in your sorrows works. I might be a fringe case of woe is me. But I would say it's just one of those days or weeks. But I hardly always feel like this. It’s just that I can’t shake the notion that my day-to-day life is heavily cornered by these emotions.

The bar is pretty nice. While I was saying I needed some drinks I start off with a juice. I’m not a heavy drinker you see.

Ooooh. A band came to perform tonight. A young-looking guitarist, a drummer with a mask, and a punk girl bassist. Their aesthetic is as garage band as it gets. I can imagine every Tuesday night they meet up in some dingy part of the city and practice for the whole night. I remember when I was a kid. I always wanted to have a garage. I don’t know where my fascination comes from but just something about being in a band was super cool. Still is actually. I was in a place where I could never have a garage band so maybe when I saw on T.V. where you and your friends just rock it out in your garage just because. It's just so very appealing to me. This is why indie alt-rock is something I really like, it gives me a flavor on what could've been. In a life where I would be very frustrated with my school work so when I get home, I go to the garage just to be alone and see all my buddies are already there and we simply make the most hideous atrocity which can barely be called music and think its the new Bohemian Rhapsody.
Now though I don't even know how to play any instrument. It makes me feel wistful.

I somehow didn’t notice the considerable amount of crowd standing there. I’d wager most of them didn’t know who they were but were attracted by their music. Which is a great feat. It's honestly pretty good stuff. Some of them seemed to also know the band, so this must not be their first performance.
A bar like this woudn’t be in a corporate area because it isn’t. The building I’m working on just happened to be in this type of area. You know it makes me wonder if the whole office isn’t just an elaborate money-laundering scheme. Nah that's dumb.

I sat there enjoying the performance. I got some cheap scotch to go with it. Man the guitarist just started a solo and my god this is so good. The whole song had this led zeppelin vibe to it. They were definitely going for that too. I can see the man's face so clearly. He’s young. Probably younger than me. His face, he looks so at peace, his hands are like moving on their own. He looks like, he just remembered a very good memory, and that endorphin is just circulating throughout and producing that music. Everyone clapped when he was done, I made sure to clap loudly all the way from back here. God that was beautiful. That man respects his Axe.

I just got that sudden rush. And in that rush, I didn’t notice that she was here too.
“This is where you come when you leave early?” she asks with a clear disappointment in her voice.
“No. I don’t think I earn enough for that.”
She sat in the next seat. I ordered something for her. This is right? It’s one of those moments? Like this is fate, right? We ended up having a drink together anyway.

We drank silently. While I admit my social skills aren’t always up to par it gets the job done. But she is just a very difficult person to engage. That's half the appeal though.
I really want to ask her out. I don’t care if we are miles apart as people. I don’t care how it will work out. I don’t care about anything. I’m not looking for her to fix me. I just want to spend some time loving her and her loving me. I don’t care if it doesn’t work out in the long run. Even if it's just for a few days, I want us to somehow love each other. As long as we both somehow feel happy from it I don’t see any problems despite anything. I don’t care if I’m skipping steps just make it happen.

I take a whole shot, drinking to my pettiness.

“Did you hear the performance? Did you like it?”
“Yeah, it was really great. I loved it.”
“Heh, thanks. I uh. The guitarist. His my boyfriend. We have been going out since high school.” She says all giddily.
“You’re still with your high school sweetheart. That's lovely.”
“It is. But he’s honestly a goofball. You can’t see it in his face but he’s such a weirdo sometimes.”
“Seriously? Hands are genius though. Not that I understand music all that well.”
“What's the point? His LP’s just don’t sell.”

Maybe it was the alcohol but she was suddenly very loose tongue. We talked about stuff we would never talk about in the office.

A few drinks later she left with the guy. She introduced us though. She wasn’t kidding in the oddball part. He has this emo aesthetic but really is just doing it for the part.

I stayed until there was no one left at the bar. It was very calming. The bartender was a nice person too. Really diligent at his job. I wonder how much a bartender earns a year? I should get on that. It's one of those cool professions.

I would like a taxi to go home but the streets are strangely empty. It's spooky really. A dying streetlamp was giving out weak yellow light. I stood underneath it. How long do you have left poor guy? I patted its body. I gave it a light kiss. I tend to do weird things when I’m alone.
Everyone deserves love when they're dying, even from a terrible person.

I look up at the dying light, the insects flying around it. I imagine someone out there somewhere is looking at a dying light just like this one. As I said, no one is unique. There are probably thousands like me, no probably millions, and then some.

I wonder about us. When we were young, with our daily soliloquy, we used to think it's just because we are young, it’s just teenage angst. When we grow up we will mature, and then we will think about our past and laugh at how stupid and pretentious we were being.

Everyone used to say, ignore that bruise on your leg, keep climbing, keep trying to reach your goal, no matter how many bruises you take the view up above will be worth it. We believed that. But now that we are on top of that mountain, our leg hurts so much we can barely appreciate the view.

I kept walking, and I hummed.

Today is gonna feel like tomorrow someday~

And tomorrow is gonna feel like yesterday~