...and we build our house of cards and then we wait for it to fall

There is this married guy in my office who looks halfway decent with great height and was found to be cheating on his wife with a colleague. I guess working long hours together in the confines of a stuffy building really does lead to something after all. It’s a brilliant story and one that I enjoyed very much listening to because it sort of sent home the message “a man is only as faithful as his options”. Besides variety is the spice of life. At any given day you could meet someone new who is more interesting, sexier…why stick with the boring girl with limp hair and scrawny body? The idea of a monogamous relationship in this modern century satiated with a society that obsesses over fornication just completely confounds me. If we truly evolved from apes, then we are no better than animals and it has been scientifically proven that only 3 percent of mammals engage in social monogamy.

We get so caught up with our own delusions sometimes that we almost begin to believe them as the absolute truths. It’s enormously comforting knowing that no matter what happens there will be someone there for you; in spite of all your imperfections, flaws and potential physical deficiencies later on in life (commonly known as ageing). However, please be reminded, humans are not a rare commodity, girls even more so. We are disposable items with a low written down value. It’s so much easier to trade one asset for another with more advanced features than to tolerate the previous asset’s geriatric tendencies. Fact of life; what comes is better than what came before (and whoa, this is a line from the velvet underground in a love song, oh the irony!).

Anyway, I do feel really bad for the guy’s wife and son. How betrayed she must have felt to discover that while the husband was supposedly working on income statements all those long nights, he was pretty much screwing the female colleague in some toilet cubicle / photocopier room. The guy has zero professional ethics, I think he is even purportedly her superior but who cares about moral codes when you have “true love” as an excuse? Hypocrisy amazes me - people never admit that they cheat because it is inherently human nature, they always say it’s “love”. Love seems to be the justification for behaving like a jerk to the person you cheated on. It exempts you from all of your previous promises and professions of undying loyalty. Romantic love is over rated and definitely over played.

I am gearing up towards the horrible December year end tax filing deadlines so any artistic / intellectual endeavors will have to take a backseat for a while (by that I mean brutal Mozart piano playing and half hearted readings on the Tudor dynasty although Anne Boleyn is a completely compelling figure). Thank goodness American Idol is over (actually not really, it’s one of my favorite shows regardless of its’ many short comings; why can’t we have interesting theme nights!) otherwise I have to find far fetched pleas to get out from the office before 8.00pm. Till my next post, viva la ganja! (?) If everybody learned the concept of “moderation”, maybe the world wouldn’t be as fucked up as it is, with our fixation on taking everything in excess; greed, drug abuse, binge drinking et cetera.

mid week slum

So go on, love
Leave while there's still hope for escape
Got to take what you can these days
There's so much ahead
And so much regret
I know what you want to say
I know it but can't help feeling differently
I loved you
And I should have said it
But tell me
Just what has it ever meant

I am re-discovering Jimmy Eat World. I feel like Holden Caulfield, all of eighteen years old with every bit of that teenage angst.

what are you doing the rest of your life?

I thought my blog had died a swift death but thank goodness, Blogger did not bury it too deep into cyberspace. It is still within my grasp and it's mine for waxing lyrical over Life. The past few months of non-blogging have been painful, I tried to blog in other spaces but it never felt the same and I just couldn't blog elsewhere. Yes, good question, so why the hell did I ever delete my blog in the first place? I grew sick of every single word I wrote, every sentence I created and everything I once stood for (hope, peace, eternal friendships, true love, the belief that God was fair and just, etc). I started blogging when I was nineteen (rather late but you must know, I did not grow up with the great invention called the Internet) and people evolve especially when they go through traumatic experiences like first jobs, unemployment, financial woes, loss of innocence and coming to terms with their own failures. So yeah, I guess I just felt I needed to start over, on a blank slate to create my own identity and ultimately, destiny. No fate, but what we create (tm Terminator 2).

Hopefully, I've grown to become wiser so no more squeeing over nonsensical inanimate objects. I forget sometimes, how insignificant we all are, in this vast universe. Merely a speck of unidentified dust. That's the beauty of it all I guess, the fact that if you look at it on a whole, everything makes perfect sense. The dramatic laws of cause and effect.

Anyway, I've been watching lots of television lately, and I absolutely love, love, love Peter Petrelli from Heroes! He's got those perfect eyes and he is the one person who is actually capable of saving the world. So much love. On another note, 2 of my closest colleagues have resigned from my office so today, being the first working day of the month, I am starting to feel the empty void that they have left. I don't know, I just felt that the office was so destitute of human activity, without our usual bickering over stationery, deadlines and work load and bitching about our bosses who were real assholes at times. I felt abandoned and dead even after work, so much that after American Idol, I text messaged a friend and asked her if she could be my Chris! And I could be the beat boxing Blake! A friend in need is a friend indeed?

To cure the blues, I'm going...to buy a new pair of shoes.

Testing