Day Four.

So thus concludes the fourth day. It ends on a sombre note, although not as sad as I thought it would be. You see, my grandfather died yesterday night. It was probably about 24 hours ago from now. I was deeply affected by his loss today, and a part of me still is, albeit not so deeply.

My grandfather was a very strong and dominant man. In his youth he was involved in politics; he once related to me the stories of his involvement in the Communist Party of Sri Lanka. He was a born leader, and was never one to be tied down to this world. Even as he aged he maintained that powerful stature to him. I don't have any memory of my father's parents, for they died when I was very young. But my mother's parents, of which he's her father, I have very clear memories of. My grandfather and my grandmother came to Canada a couple of times, staying with us for long stretches at a time. They were the ones that took care of me when I was young boy in Sri Lanka and during my teen years here in Canada. When I was with them I felt very much at peace. Their conversations weren't like those of my parents: busy, pragmatic, and hurried. They talked mostly about their past; memories of times long past yet to them seemed so near. I don't know my grandfather's history as well as I do my grandmother's. I do recall my grandma saying how much of a playboy he was. And I remember my mom saying how my grandma asked him to change his hairstyle in the way of a famous Sri Lankan actor (kind of wavy and combed back), and he had that look his entire life. As a child I got my affinity for stories by listening to them talk. When I heard them regaling a story it was very different from the entertainment I received on TV. Their stories were peaceful, and drawn out, including seemingly useless details, to paint an accurate picture, but without any real plot. It was like being in a timeless park, where it was just the green grass, blue sky, and the white clouds all day; and you had forgotten why you're there or where you had to go. This is what I remember of their stories. At some point my grandparents moved back to Sri Lanka because they found Canada too stifling to their way of life (they were very active and energetic people, and here they had nothing to do). I didn't speak to them for many years then. I would occasionally speak to them over the phone -- actually, as I typed that, I realized the last time they called I didn't want to speak to them because I felt it was just a waste of time as they would just be asking the same old questions about what I'm studying, how much longer it would be, and I would give the same answers in the same tone. I told my parents I was busy and I never took the phone. But whenever he did speak to me he would be so happy and spoke in English (both my grandparents speak very good English). He would often write me birthday cards addressing them Mr. Sahan. I just have so much regret now in my heart. I was supposed to go see him, this is why I'm having this vacation. He had a stroke and he became paralyzed. My mother went a month ago to take care of him. But she saw how he was getting better so we didn't have to come. We cancelled our tickets and thought we'd buy them again later on in the year when it's easier for us to take time off. But then a few days ago he had a heart attack and he was put on life support. His kidneys were failing so he was put on dialysis. Then they said he was recovering again, so they removed his life support, but a day or so afterwards he died. I couldn't believe it. Of all the things I've heard I couldn't believe that. It was such a slap on the face for me. I was about to go. We had the tickets, but we cancelled them. At this moment I would've been there with him. Yet, instead, I am here now, never being able to say a word to him ever again, filled with enormous regret. Just so much regret.

The last bit must've been very incoherent. I had a lot of trouble writing it. I think I'm going to stop now. I wanted to talk about MMA and Narnia and all these other things. But I can't. Thank you everyone for your support, I really appreciate it.

Day Zero.

I stand now at the crux of my vacation. And even as I stand here, about to embark upon two weeks of happiness and freedom from work, I feel afraid and doubtful of my choice. I would afterall lose two weeks worth of pay. Will it be worth it? How much can I really train in two weeks? This time off is what I've been awaiting for a long time. Yet now that it's here I am with doubt. And further yet, I think, it is too late now to entertain these doubts, for I've come too close to the edge. Now there is nothing left but to leap into tomorrow.

Much has happened these past few weeks, yet nothing much had changed. My work stagnated any growth in me, both physically and mentally. Everyday at work I would pray for some change to occur. For some ounce of fortune to fall upon me from the heavens. For the girl across my lab to look up, for even half a second, and catch my eyes; I would wait the entire day for that. When you're dying of thirst in a barren desert, you would cherish even the dampness of a wet cloth upon your tongue. When I think about this I understand now why I decided to take these two weeks off. It was for my wellbeing. I wasn't well, at all. What's even more frightening is that I was getting comfortable with that life. I even thought this morning, "Why would I need two weeks off? I could keep doing this. I'm actually getting better now." This is frightening because that thought would lead down a path to complete stagnation. I would have given up my dreams of finding a better career, my passion for MMA, and my creative endeavours. There are young guys at my workplace - no more older than I - who've worked there for 10 years! Ten! I couldn't believe it. These are intelligent guys, at the prime of their youth, wasting away labeling bottles for 10 hours a day. When you lose that drive and fall into complacency, you would slave away and not even know it. Not even feel it, for your mind has now been numbed. I fear this will be me. That is why I must take these two weeks off. Not just to train, but I must use this time to find a better job.

As I would work the best days of summer, inside a lab, lifting bottles from cold boxes of ice, labeling them with stickers, I would often ponder the notion of death. I hesitate to even say this, but there were times when I thought of ending it all. As my days of work was filled with the thought of death, my two weeks of freedom must be filled with life. I must live every hour, starting tomorrow. For once these two weeks are over, I am back into that hell. This is Day Zero.

Emocoaster 2.

Ah, I dunno why I haven't written in a long while. Maybe nothing significant happened. Or maybe I've just been overworked. I hardly have time to sit and think anymore. Maybe that's a good thing. Tonight I had too much time to do that. Tonight I feel empty. I'm a charlatan, I put on this act to entertain others, yet in the end even I'm not amused. Who am I really? Tonight I thought about all the friends in the past who've left me. Who am I to them? Despite everything I've attained, what have I to show for that? So many mistakes, so many people gone.

Argh, I dunno why I'm even writing this. Yesterday I felt so happy. My two best friends came over to see me and I had the greatest time as far back as I could remember. Perhaps this is the Emocoaster.

Silversun Pickups rock.
I've been waiting. I've been waiting for this moment alllll myyyy life. But it's not quite right.

Wait, you know what it is? I've talked to girls today. I find that I get depressed after talking to those idiots. It's like I put on a show - I dance and do a jig - and they're not impressed. I'm left on that stage, with the spotlight turned off, all alone, and the audience gone home. Fuck, I was so happy yesterday with Ruthie and Alejandro.

Captain America.

I feel happy at this moment. It's due to a mix of soothing music and a realization. The latter I'll get to shortly.

I had a pretty good day. Today I bought two comic for myself and ate some Caribbean food for lunch. I bought a Neil Gaiman comic where he depicts Marvel heroes in the 17th Century. It seemed very interesting and being a Gaiman fan I had to purchase it. The second comic was Captain America. I've been really interested in Captain America lately. I'm not sure why. He lacks any superpowers, and is a rugged, manly hero, much like Batman. But unlike Batman he lacks the complicated mental issues and moral battles. I like how simple and straightforward he is. He's the archetypal hero. He's also iconic. He was created during the latter years of World War II. Almost as a joke, he would come to represent the American will. Even his name was not to be taken seriously. After the War no one really cared for this character, so he disappeared from comics. But they brought him back to life in the 80s or something. They made some story like he was frozen in time and they revived him again. Anyhow, I admire his iconic image. And who could not love his awesome shield? It's indestructible! Reading this comic and listening to my soothing music is making me happy right now. It's moments like this that make me forget about my work.

I hate my work, so I really look forward to these weekends. The past work week was especially difficult for me. A series of e-mails from someone came and threw my mind off balance for a while. In a way I expected this to come. I wrote a poem about this many blog entries ago, and it happened just as I predicted. I was beaten down to the ground, and as I tried to get back up, I was crushed into a pulp. Well, I deserve it. I think what bothered me most is how I never have enough courage -- or maybe skill -- to fight back. I don't know why I don't fight back. I never do when it comes to women. I'm always apologizing, always accepting blame. Maybe because I value friendship at the cost of anything, even my pride. I would do anything to minimize the damage and salvage the friendship. In the end I'm left feeling empty and weak, like a loser. I think that's something that has always bothered me about my past. I always lose every argument. That's something that bothered me about my previous relationship. I'm wrong, even when I know I'm right. I accept defeat. But this builds frustration in my head, and I end up feeling like I missed a chance. I end up feeling like a loser. It results in that low-self-confidence issue which has often plagued me. People take advantage of me, I know this. Maybe I don't want to hurt the people I love. Maybe I don't know enough words? Me no speak English.

During the Spider Man series there was a period where he was transported into a strange universe to fight in an epic battle. This battle would pit the best heroes versus the best villains. It was an ultimate battle to discover who was the best in the universe or something. I never read the comic, but I saw the episodes from the Cartoon. On one side it was Spiderman, Iron Man, X-Men, etc. On the other side it was Dr. Doom, Carnage, Dr. Octopus, the Lizard, etc. It was an epic battle and Spiderman's leadership saw that the good guys won in the end. He was transported once again out of this world and into some limbo dimension where Madam Webb explained everything to him. But the onus of it was that he could not tell anyone about this war. Once he's returned back into his normal life his memory would be erased, as will all the other superheros' and villains'. This would be known as the Secret Wars.

None of my friends knew of the series of e-mails that took place that week. It was my own Secret War. I wanted to fight it myself. To be honest, I didn't think it would turn out badly as it did. I know I'm the type to often lament and pour out all my feelings in a lengthy blog entry, but I wanted to keep silent during that time. It was only after a week had passed that I told anyone of it.

... She's like an immovable wall. But I tried my best.

Oh, as for that realization I spoke of earlier: I realize that I'm quite blessed, in many ways. I have a sound mind free from many mental problems others suffer from. I have a functioning body free of any diseases, disabilities, or other ailments. My family is alive and well, which cannot be said about every other family. I have great friends who love me and take me out to do things I would not otherwise do! I have my trusty steed (the Volvo). I have my strength and determination, which keeps me going even through the worst. Just like Captain America! Um, where was I? So I feel blessed that I have my lot in life. It's not much, and I could complain, but it could be a lot worse. And I could struggle to achieve what I have now, with a lot less. Despite all this shit I complain about, I feel lucky to be me.

Despite all my rage I'm still just a rat in a cage.

I wrote this whilst at lunch on Thursday:

It's lunchtime once again. Today wasn't so bad. I had to inspect a 100-bottle job today. Can you imagine typing in 100 different names, double-checking, pasting 100 labels onto bottles, and scanning them into a bin? And today's a good day. Tomorrow, I overhead, will be a very intense day. I'm gonna die! DIE!

I'm sitting at a new table in the lunchroom, it's close to the window. Outside the sun is heading West, it's against a vibrant blue sky. Flakes of clouds are scattered about. The wind blows the red leaves on a row of trees, they stand out of a lush carpet of green grass. There is a wooden bench sitting firmly on the ground, still against all things fluttering in the wind.

Today I'm having pasta that a family-friend made for us. Next to it I have two fish cutlets, and a piece of salty fish. This is a good lunch!

I was having a bit of an emo day today. I thought a lot about someone in my near-past. I felt that everything she has done, and everything she is doing, is perfectly called-for. She had a difficult time with my family, and an impossible future with me. No one deserved the abuse she got. She only wanted to be loved and included, but my family wouldn't have that. She deserved better. And amidst all this I did jack shit. I just let things slide and sat back passively. I couldn't give her what she wanted. I should've... I could've... I don't blame her, at all. I just wish I could tell her how sorry I am. I wish she'll find that happiness soon - if she hasn't found it already. Maybe it's better she isn't speaking with me. She will be happier. She doesn't need my drama. This is what I thought today while labeling bottles.

I'm going to do some cardio today. I might do an 8 km jog again. We'll see, it depends on when I'd get home. I hope my dad cooks something delicious! I want some meat. I want some smoked meat! I think we have fish - bleh. I'm fished out. And I don't want curry meat either. Damn curry, I have it every day.

Man, where are the hotties today? The lunch room's full of married, middle-aged women. The light outside is aging, getting bronze by the minute.

Sometimes I wonder about the future. Okay, I often wonder about the future. Where am I supposed to look? Who will she be? I look into the future and I see darkness. In the past I'd see something, some symbol of what's to come - like Tangerine. But I see nothing now. Maybe this is it. There will be no one else. Maybe I had all my chances and I blew it. Kenny's right - maybe we missed some opportunity in the past. This doesn't feel like where I should be right now. Fuck! I'm turning into Kenny. You know what I'm really scared of? My parents guilting me into marrying someone. Some fobby ugmo. And I'll be too weak to fight. And I'll live the rest of my life with regret and sadness. Maybe I should invest in a gun.

The sun suddenly became harsher. Like it's giving a final blow before it disappears. It's too uncomfortable to sit here.

That was what I wrote two days ago. For the record, I did get home early on Thursday, but I never worked out because one of my best friends called and we talked for hours. It was a conversation that needed to happen. And for the record my dad did cook something delicious - it was a baked whole chicken! My friend on the phone told me not to eat any of it because it's so late into the night, but I did so anyways. Friday was indeed intense, but we got home early because everyone stayed behind to help. As a result of going home early I did an intense workout regiment last night.

I don't want anyone to worry, I'm feeling much differently today (as I was yesterday). Thursday's episode was just that - an episode. I think the repetition of labeling bottles got to me! Haha. On another topic I've come to realize that I should be more weary of posting things related to other people. This is my post for my own personal thoughts, but often I come close to describing my drama with others. And I should be weary of crossing into this territory. As a result I deleted certain sections of a previous post, and I censored a few sentences from what I wrote at work.

As I mentioned I worked out intensely yesterday. I was feeling so lethargic lately, not getting a proper workout to increase my muscle-mass. So yesterday I went all out. It was 2 solid hours of cardio and muscle-conditioning. First I jogged around my basement lightly. Then I put two stools on my path and jumped over them. I then continued this holding a 10 lb weight. I then switched it to a 25 lb weight. Can you imagine continuously jumping over two stools holding a 25 lb weight? It killed my abs. I must've done about 50 jumps. I want to count next time so I know how many I'm doing. This is a great exercise because it forces you to jump, otherwise you'll injure your foot! Then I did my regular pushups and situps. Then I practiced some low kicks and then my newly discovered Axe Kick. Then onto weight training for biceps, triceps, and the bench press. Man, I really felt it in my abs and pecs. I hope this would help my boobies disappear soon. Oh! I also did a new weight training drill for my lats, this should help my punches. And did it end there? Oh no. It's not over til it's over. So I ran on the treadmill for another 20 minutes. I put the "hills" program so the treadmill was simulating elevation. It killed my abs! But I didn't give up. I actually spat at the treadmill after I completed it without giving up. Booyah!

My plan is to continue this intense workout all weekend up to Monday (with Alex's Boot Camp as the finale). Then Tuesday I'll take off for recovery. Today I have MMA, so I'm not sure if I should do anything. Maybe something light. Fuck yeah, I'm not gonna just rest tonight. It's beautifully blue outside. The sun is hidden behind some rain clouds, and it's light is casting a greyish blue on all things outside. Definitely Sahan Weather. I'm feeling well. Ya know, despite everything I've lost, despite all the petty dramas that revolved around me, I didn't do so bad. I'm quite proud of what I've achieved, considering what I had to work with. I like how I look, I can hold my fight, I'm earning more money, and I'm determined to go further.

Thanks Kyoshi. Osu.

Emocoaster.

I wrote this on my break yesterday.

Where would you go if you wanted to run away? I left to take my lunch - what if I never came back? How long would it take them to realize I'm gone? I won't even have to sneak out. No one even notices me in the lunch room, I could just walk out the exit and run off into the beautiful green fields beyond. I'll live among the birds and the flowers. There are so many colours outside - reds, greens, yellows, and blues. In here everyone is just one colour - grey.

There are two types of women here. The older and uglier women - who are the most social and friendly. And the younger and beautiful girls, who are just snobby jerks! They won't even look at me. Would a smile kill you? Ugh. As for the beautiful social women? They're married. Fuck.

I'm sitting under the TV. It makes it seem that everyone is looking at me. I feel special and wanted! There are too many Filipinos here. Why is it that lab coats cannot be worn in the lunchroom but they're allowed to be worn in the washroom? Rice goes everywhere. My cellphone, on this paper, and even in my bag. Or am I just a messy eater? No, it's the rice. The rice is at fault.

I'm going to hide in the freezer, maybe they won't find me there.

Sore.

I will come with my two fists
You will come with iron bars
I will stand up tall
You will knock me down
I will brave the worst you've got
You will crush me to the ground.

I'm preparing for a storm and I cannot predict it's strength. I am still not ready. Will I ever be? I don't know what to anticipate. Whatever I've gained, the storm's gained doubly. I cannot win, I will be defeated.

So I survived the ordeal of yesterday. Actually, it wasn't so much an ordeal, more like a mountain that had to be conquered. Work, kickboxing, and MMA. I got through all three. The Kyoshi increased the pain factor last night. Over our grunts of pain he said, "My goal is to make you stop coming to this class. After tonight you will never want to come back again. Hahaha!" I nearly passed out in kickboxing. I wanted to best last week's workout, so I kept up the routine without rest. This came back to hurt me when I was doing punching bags and I nearly blacked out. MMA was slightly better. We did tossing. I tossed Frank about two dozen times, and my shoulder kills today. Frank did the same and I could see the area of my skin turned red where it had been stretched and pulled. I felt like rubber. Frank complemented me as I wiped a bucketful of sweat from my head, "Your cardio's improved one hundred percent!" That man rarely talks, and so it meant a lot to me.

Today had been a day of rest. I should've run or something. I hate sitting around, it makes my muscles sore and cramped. Watership Down is scaring me. I fear a major battle is up ahead, and I'm not sure if the burrow can handle a full out attack.

I feel strong. Yet not strong enough. I've defeated every challenge that came unto me, but it's the one I can't that I fear.

Single.

Seeing people around me in love, it makes me yearn for someone for myself. I miss having that closeness, that intimacy, that bond. It made me feel like I belonged to something greater. Yes, I am happy with myself and the life that I lead now. I feel beautiful and I feel confident. I am strong and I fight every day. But why does every day have to be a fight? I'm tired of fighting. Being alone means braving the evils of this world. Running through the woods alone under the blanket of darkness. Why can't I rest? I am tired of running, tired of fighting. I want to be safe now. It gets so cold here.
It would be nice... that's all I'm saying.

"The Darkness"

Under the sun I am fearless
Can this strength carry me?
Or is it all folly and facade?
The muscles ache, a witness
To every punch made
Yet they cannot overcome you.
I cannot defeat you,
For I am too weak.
In the darkness I am still weak.

The illusion of strength.

Sometimes I like to think I'm so strong that I can take on the world. Then the next morning I'd see something and it would remind me of how weak and broken I am. I can jab, hook, and break fucking walls. But I can't save myself from the demons in my head. Maybe I'm still messed up, who am I trying to fool?
Clair de Lune, it's a good song. Listen to it.