Lazy from C-Z

We dream of life togethermore We dream of souls within our core I dream of solitude and joy She dreams of happiness and coy Time and patience gives a flower its strength To rise above its span and length And perhaps one day the bloom might be much more special than this that we have now

Days are short when it is spent on earning my livelihood. There aren't that plenty things to do otherwise. I spent my time fooling around with my bird and then myself, and afterwards I go deep into a trance realising that life is not at all that complicated. It's a cosmic carousel of chaos. I am about to embark on a new journey, and this time the situation is different as it was the last time. I do have the luxury of reason to want to get away. This time, there is that different stroke of emotional strength and willpower to accommodate my every step. This time, I am simply just a different person. My lover will leave the country by then, no rules or events can stop me from pursuing my very desire to search for answers hidden dwelling inside the belly of the beastly world we are in. The fundamental longing for the soul, in hopes to realise that this is what I need, what I want to accomplish, and that I wasn't merely a pitstop for my lover's merry adventures. ...

Another day rounded off the calendar inching closer to our goodbyes, we muster. My erection turned sour during the sweet morning sex when our bodies just collapse into neverending terms, unendearing and, like a slap to the face, just disheartening. She rolls over to one side, sobbing in tears as she takes my mobile phone, while I crawl to her dark, juicy female bits. I can't have it , I thought. This is just so wrong . I stopped smiling when she stopped caring. Her tears were reptilian and traitorous. Never trust tears from a crocodile despite its best efforts to value your love. '' Open your legs,' I started to beg. 'Please.' The desperation inside me was pathetic, my pride dwindling as my cock is shrinking. She offers no response. Her legs tight shut like a dried ceramic. Her naked form though never fails to impress. We spent our afterbed in petty and frivolous arguments. This relationship is going down fast , I recall myself say. She ...

I'm finding out tonight that letting go of work, be it rubbish or not, is not an easy task once you've grabbed ahold of one. There is nothing in my life I despise more now than my job. All the while I've never considered it horrible in every definition of the word but it is degrading and utterly annoying, beyond cheap and burdensome for its salary. I had to endure because of my plans to enjoy the last remaining days of me and my lover. We had settled the score of last night's jealousy. It wouldn't harm me to keep being sceptical, after all, she had a history of juggling two at once, she once opened up. Can't help but feel judgmental and distrustful. She doesn't deserve this kind of treatment from me. I don't deserve any either. Our bond is at its infancy and fragile, not to mention we've already been on a lot worse before this. Pray that the heavy discomfort weighing in my heart would pass, and that it is all a figment of my own imagination, and that...

Tired and paranoid. In a couple of days or weeks, Mioseon will be leaving me. She will be going back home to her country, sipping some nice homebrew beside a familiar table inhaling some familiar cold breeze. Spring has come to her at long last. The long and cold winter of London dragged us both to the point of exhaustion. Despite all, I work my ass off to pay her one lasting memory for the time we met and the circumstances that found us both in each other's arms. My head feels like it's about to explode, barely slept, restless, and feeling jaded. While working at the Chinese noodle bar (more on that soon), she messaged me via Facebook how she had gone home late and that I need not bother to worry, how it was a 'long story' and how 'there is nothing I should fear because she's okay' and reassures me subtly hints of her strong feeling of fidelity towards me. I had always felt unease every time we part ways, mostly during Fridays. Today, a Saturday, was a...

There is an elephant in the room. I repeat, there is an elephant in the room. As we speak. The silence itself is deafening, the awkwardness maddening. I want to engage the situation at hand headfirst, but I've been doing that since forever, making any effort now seems fruitless and forced. So should I suffer? Beat myself harder? Push myself into another trap? She walks here and there, carelessly and callously. She seems to pay me no mind, as if nothing ever happened. Her mind is completely one-dimensional, and I knock my head to the wall for falling for this trickery. I deserve this because I entered this in the first place, never minding the consequences because I always believed I can just get over it all. I've made this wall myself. I thought there was nothing else to lose and now I'm losing what I never thought I could lose. I've lost everything this time, and now I'll play the blame game.

Mioseon is on our bed sleeping, comfortably, I hope, and clueless of my current location.  She has a couple more days or weeks left and the clock is ticking away, shaking the very foundation of my entire being with this one simple decision. She's leaving me for what she calls home for the past twenty years or so. She's leaving me because of the restrictions of her visa. Staying in a country as a tourist has its price, falling deep in love as a tourist even more so. Being granted six months to stay here in the United Kingdom has been both a blessing and a curse for us, but I'm grateful no matter what. These past six months have been the most fruitful of my life as a person. We end another chapter of our lives with so much at stake. I cannot follow her home just yet. My own personal battles have yet concluded and it is only a shame that we met under difficult circumstances. The girl of my dreams bears the child of my dreams for approximately two months now. She...

It was a stunning defeat as me and my father had our mouths open wide in disbelief as Manny fell face first to the canvas. My heart was undoubtedly broken and spirit crushed like a bug squashed by the palm of a gargantuan human being. Such tragedies should never have come, but things like these are to be anticipated in big bouts in sports like boxing. It had silenced us both. I still was in the middle of a sentence when the moment had come. Twice then, first when he fell on the third and at the moment of truth. I grit my teeth in both disappointment and anger, praying for it to be mere folly. No. It was over just like that. Our smiles were less and my mouth absent of breath. A sad day for the Philippines, another day at work.

It's harder when I think that life and love is easier when the parties involved are in the same spectrum of the relationship. The truth is, I always get hurt more often than not. It's not because we are in disagreement with one another, but it's because I find out I could never really be fully me. The adjustments are difficult to endure. I barely slept after finally catching winks while having lunch. The entire night was spent sulking over trivial sexual mis-pursuits. It was then that I wanted to make her feel that I am deeply disappointed with myself and the both of us for not trying harder and for being hard-pressed to try to understand what each of us were thinking at that particular moment. It's funny how when I look back now I always seem to think I myself am the bad guy, when in fact all I ever wanted was an extra more affection. How hard can that be in a mutual relationship between lovers? And so when I wake up four or five hours or so, there she was sitting...

Yesterday's plan of November yet survives but is put on hold. I have lost valuable assets during my months-long travel and it doesn't feel right to just depend upon memory to retain all that I have sweated blood for to compile, and such travesty's a big shame, for the whole fault is mine. I've left behind more than half of my valuables to carelessness and unfortunate circumstances. It would take quite awhile to regain all that lost information, if I could still ever. I even have a replacement Moleskine to aid my purpose in writing, although not even that could redeem me from my faded fortune. What I need is a whole set of skill, plenty of testimonies, and an eidetic memory. Time starts now. The world awaits.

For all it's worth, December is finally here at long last, and I am five days too late. There are things -- mundane things -- that have come and gone, experienced soiled and spoiled, shared and grieved. I've brought upon myself home a full dufflebag with a live mind inside, living and breathing, poised for a lifelong disarray. One thing to remind myself that there is danger in my words and actions, even moreso when prompted by rage and desperation. There is happiness in this, I whisper to myself, and everything seems to be forgotten. And then finally I've learned how to mature. 

A month long gone. So many things have happened. Everything has a reason as I believe. Backpacking throughout the United Kingdom, with only my dreams in tow, and my hopeful feet to tread. My most ambitious project had begun. For now, I'll just keep writing what I need to, unless I fall. And were I to perish unexpectedly due to the perils of uncertainty, then I shall be happy, because I have found cure to my own resident evil.

Much has happened. Including me and my life. Left homeless for a day and all.

Never have I been so tittilated and grossed out watching women weightlifters from Poland.

Basketball. USA against France. Was Ronny Turiaf really their tallest French player? France needed more big men.

Andy Murray on the move. Retribution after Wimbledon? I think not.

Good lord, Leryn Franco is so gorgeous she makes my javelin stand to the tip. Paraguay should be my next travel destination.

Final minutes of day one. Team GB disappoints at cycling. The 'Dream Team' just wasn't dreamy enough. Nice golden win for Kazakhstan. Michael Phelps, on the other hand, places no medal since a long time ago. Bad start. Maybe he should indeed retire after this while he still has that value.

Women's swimming. The fluidity in their strokes is phenomenal. 

Sometimes I want to clean my life for the hell of it, the thrill of responsibility. Sometimes I clobber myself to thinking I needed to do something for a future, a worthwhile life, a legacy to leave behind. Sometimes I groom myself emotionally and physically for a day, and for what? Six hours later, drenched wet, going home empty-handed, and another illusion of having done a socially-acceptable lifestyle. That I prove to others I have no sociopathic tendencies. That I am ordinary, that I mingle for the sake of mingling. Because life is like that, ever so clingy to worldly favours. One's self is never enough, they say. Some say that no one man is an island. I beg to differ, some are indeed islands. Islands that form an archipelago, albeit independently, forming tight bonds of respect and honour, and they are all better off that way. Loneliness has no factor in this. The islands are by no means exclusive but invitational.