Beautiful Man

On BART reading on the train. The view looked like a perfect Instagram photo I could have taken, if only I had Instagram. A view of my opened book, and the seat in front of me. To the side, the beauty of the sun emitting heavenly light. The feelings the light reveals in this horizon can only be felt in a few minutes. As soon as the sun rises to the top, the feelings change. This view of the early morning horizon shelters the city from the external darkness, but not the internal darkness in our hearts. Yes, it is definetely morning.

To the seats in front of me, I notice something different. It's a Beautiful Man. I see Men all the time in their seats, but I really noice this one. But I did not stare at him. I just caught an outline of him in a split second while my eyes were on its way to glance at the door. Oakland Coliseum. This is Oakland Coliseum, the train conductor announces.

In that instance however, I could remember what I noticed about him. Shades. I didn't see him. I didn't look into his eyes. But I felt he was wearing shades. Blade shades that cover his eyes completely. Shades showing his ability to look at everything conspicuously by rolling his eyes, without moving his head to achieve a glance. Shades that cool people wear. Shades like Stevie Wonder. And woah, was this man a wonder. He could even be sleeping. His arms were crossed. His legs spread out. His neck was fat, so I couldn't tell if his head was tilting downward or facing forward, but still, regardless, his head was in perfect posture. A gorgeous head.

Exquisite neatly symmetrical beard. It was no Santa Claus, but he had one. Was it shaven? Maybe a little bit. I could have looked at him again, but my anxious nerves refuses to. I'm listening to my music, pretending to read my book but imaginging what the book is about. All at the same time marveling at this beautiful man. I imagine him with a red cap.

I glance in the quick 1/10000 second noticing how the sunlight's rays reflects his hand. What a beautiful hand. A beautiful hand for a beautiful man.

He had a woman. A beautiful man with a woman all enhances his attractiveness. His beautiful hand grasps tightly the top of her hand, signalling it is time to get up, and go. To work? To the airport? The Oakland Coliseum is also the exit to the airport. The possibilities of the next few hours in their lives are endless. This is Oakland Coliseum afterall. But man, did his Beautiful Man hold her hand! Yes, man, yes motherfucker, hold her hand. Grasp her hand and never fucking let go. Hold it to your heart, bitch. Hold her fucking hand til death devours your soul. Hold her fucking hand for all eternity. Let love last forever. Let us define love. Only can a group of people; only the human species as a whole can define love. Let the illusion of love exist.

The sun was already up by the time the couple left the train.

Dammit! my emotions are so fking obvious..

I think I blog because... I think I'm dying, or going to die soon.

When I die, I won't think anymore.. and my body chooses which of those thoughts to type... so this is my thought sanctuary I guess?  Maybe that's why I keep a blog and I try to capture as many feelings, attempting to record and describe that "heavy emotion" (I think the Japanese have a word for this...)  Is it because the thought of dying is why we have to "progress" by writing or even talking everything out?

Why I feel like such a failure

I never have one of those days where I do everything I wanted to so orderly and perfectly.  I never have a real day like in Harvest Moon, when you feed all your chickens, milk all the cows, hold the dog, drop the items in the shipping bin,  give flowers to get a green heart, and just fish for the remainder of the day.

Or maybe I'm such a failure because I'm comparing it to a friggin video game.  And video games are just that.

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Sometimes I think it's better to watch normal people doing everyday things than watching those in television, or reading about them in a magazine... actually maybe it's always better.

It should be okay if I get all anxious, it's a natural part of me, and I should be okay if it happens to me.  The more the better actualy so I can get used to it when it actually starts happening... but I'm still scared of it happening to me.

HOLY FUCK

So I was on Facebook and I creeped up on all the friends I deleted and WTF SOME ARE MARRIED AND HAVE BABIES?!?!?! ALREADY?!?!?!?!

I think I can only talk to her when she was sad... when she's happy, she really doesn't need me. And I feel that she doesn't need me.  Well, she seems happy, and I guess it's time for me to seriously start moving on...  it's been this way for awhile.  I've just been super stupid.

I honestly don't believe that I care what other people think of me.  It's just that I'm anxious about being anxious.  I don't want my voice to start to shake again, nor do I want to share things that I half-ass'd. At least, from all of this, I can advance mentally instead of always retracting or staying the same.  What I learned was to always prepare.  Preparation is the most important in building confidence, and to prevent situations that I know I don't want happening.  Now if only I can just... engage in preparing then I'm all good.  But procrastination feels so much more natural... ah.