Acts of Random Kindness.

It's incidents like today that keep my faith intact with humanity. A simple stranger's act of selflessness. Albeit the fear of contracting H1N1, they still persisted involuntarily to send me to the medic which brings somewhat warm mushy tears to my eyes.

With the vision around me gradually blurred and fading along with the incompetent feeble attempts to breathe, everything seemed somehow irrelevant yet a sudden flood of clarity and tranquil wooshed upon me under all the on-going calamities.

As for everyone else who stayed with me in the ER , imma truly grateful despite it was mainly my fault for being careless of my own well being. I suppose i took the wonderwoman shizzz a little too far, assuming imma capable to handle the impossible art of mastery multitasking by taking it to a whole other level.

On the bad note, imma homebound by my friends who refused to let me out of my lodgings, regardless of my parents who seemed unperturbed by the proceedings. I choose to think my mates are overexaggerating the occurrence.

What a day, and the weekends has not even arrive.

A Joker in Athens.

"Mankind is faced with a number of difficult questions that we've got no satisfactory answers to. So now two possibilities present themselves: We can either fool ourselves and the world by pretending that we know all there is to know, or we can shut our eyes to the central issues once and for all and abandon all progress. In this sense, humanity is divided. People are, generally speaking, either dead certain or totally indifferent."

Self-opinionated know-it-alls

who are satisfied with what little they know,

or who boast of knowing a whole lot about subjects

they haven't the faintest notions of.

For really, wisest is she who knows she does not know.

Love thy emails.

"During the summer of 2007, I had the opportunity to backpack around Europe for 2 weeks. I talked about it often before I left. My girlfriend however, although great in many respects, was not the world's greatest listener. I left on Friday June 1st. despite even calling her to say goodbye the night before, she never realized I left. When I arrived home 2 weeks later, I had several emails from her, waiting in my inbox....

Friday, June 1st 11:31am

Subject; Maddy Babe!

*smooch* Hey doll, me and the girls are gonna hit up the maddy tonight. I'll call you in a bit, you and the boys should come out too.

love, Em

Friday June 1st 4:40pm

Subject: Come out come out, hehe

Hey hun, me again. Tried calling your cell a few times today but it kept going right to voicemail. You're not screening me are you? ;)

(Note: my cell phone was off for the entire trip so that I wouldn't get insane roaming charges in europe.)

Saturday June 2nd

Subject: Missed you! (frowny face)

Jdddddd... I missed you last night! There were these two super creepy guys who kept trying to talk to us all night. I let the one guy buy me a drink and as soon as he handed it to me I told him he reminds me of my boyfriend, ha ha ha. I tried your cell again but again no answer, having cell problems dear? Anyway, Marla and me are going out for brunch to try and get over our hangovers... tonight, you and me, dinner at your place. Call me today.

Sunday June 3rd

Subject: Uh...hello...?

JD, wtf. Why are you not responding to my ecalls and emails? Where are you?! I waited all night for you to get in touch with me. I'm not happy here babe... call me ASAP!!!

Sunday June 3rd

no subject. (Email was empty)

Tuesday June 5th

Subject: WTF

What the fuck is going on?! Why are you avoiding me? You're not answering your cell, you won't return my texts.... JD wtf?! I know you're around! Your friend jeremy is such a bullshitter. When he said he hadn't seen you all weekend I could hear you talking in the background! I thought you were different fuck nut! Last chance... call me tonight with the best excuse of your life or I walk asshole.

(Note: Apparently she called one of my friends to find out where I was on the weekend. I have no idea what she's talking about here though.)

Tuesday June 5th

Subject: Read this asshole!

I've tried call you, I've tried calling your friends, your mom. What the fuck did I do? Ws it just time? Time to dump me? You could at least tell it to my face asshole. We're through... don't call me, don't text me, don't bother now. You'll never know what you lost, I was the one, and now I feel sorry for you because you'll never have that again. I feel so sorry for you, ha ha ha.

(Note: she left messages at my mom's demanding I call her back. My mom would've called her to tell her I was in Europe except she didn't leave her number and my mom doesn't have it.)

Friday June 8th

Subject: No subject.

I hate you.

Sunday June 10th

subject: fuuuuuuck U

hey fuck face, remmembe r that friend of mine that I was you were jealous of who I said that nuffin ever will happen with well I was crying with him about you and he told me how amazing I was, how he always though so and so I fucked him to show you I'm right! Now who's the stuipd one? I can't get any guy I want and whatr are you doing just sitting at home crying over how you lost me? Well don't cry for me because you've already lost me asswhole! Ha ha ha ha ha

(Note: I would say I've been cheated on... but technically I'm single at this point.)

Tuesday June 12th

Subject: Read ASAP

JD, Call me, we need to talk

Tuesday June 12

Subject: Just listen....

ok fine, you don't want to call me then just listen. I'm mad and hurt right now. I really felt something between us and now you've gone and thrown it all away and I have no idea why. JD, we were amazing together weren't we? We always had fun, and I tried to be so easy going and happy with you. We were the couple that could spend an evening out with our friends or laze about on the couch and either way end it all in fantastic sex and confessions of love. I know that something has happened to change all that, but you have to admit that you still feel something for me. To deny that is to deny your very soul. I know you'll call me tonight. We have a lot to discuss. A lot of bad nd good. It may not change things and we may still be broken up, but you at least owe me a conversation. A chance. Em

(Note: I've been in Europe for 12 days. I am coming home on Saturday. On this day I go shopping in Rome and get a necklace for Em and write a postcard to my grandparents.)

Thursday June 14th

Subject: I tried...

I tried to reach out to you JD, I really did. But I take back all those nice things I said. I'm glad we're broken up. You're boring as shit to be with. I pretended so many times to like the stupid shows you like, to watch the stupid movies you like, to enjoy spending time with your asinine friends. I've moved on. I realize that you are not the right person for me in any way whatsoever. You bring out the worst traits in me and I'm a million times better without you. I'm bringing by a bunch of your stuff to you mom's house. So long JD, I'd like to say it was fun but it really wasn't. Believe me when I say that I never want to hear from you again. Em

Thursday June 14th

subject: OPEN FIRST!!! DO NOT READY ANY OTHER EMAILS!!!

If you love me, you will delete every email I've sent you over the past week without reading it. JD please I am begging you that when you get back you do not read any email but this one. We've all made mistakes while you've been away. I can explain it all to you, call me ASAP. I love you with all my heart and soul! Em

(Note: When she went by my mom's house to drop off my stuff, she bumped into my mom... my mom told her I was in Europe until Saturday...)

(Note: I read the emails... Em and I are no longer together. I learned two very important lessons from this whole ordeal. 1. Careful when you date passionate people, because passion swings both ways. Sometimes they'll love you, but other times they'll hate you. And when they hate you...boy do they hate you. 2. When you go to Europe for 2 weeks, leave your fucking phone on.)"

Vice is its own punishment, and sometimes it's own cure.

THE SEVEN VICES OF HIGHLY CREATIVE PEOPLE.

Vice One: Be a Drinker

Winston Churchill, a great fan of the martini, once said that it must always be remembered that he has taken more out of alcohol than alcohol has taken out of him. For Churchill, like many other great drinkers, alcohol was a tool used to feed creativity and social discourse. For others, like Ernest Hemingway, alcohol was a way to place the mind on a different plane after writing all day at a desk. This is what old Papa had to say:

I have drunk since I was 15 and few things have given me more pleasure. When you work all day with your head and know you must again work the next day, what else can change your ideas and make them run on a different plane like whiskey?

Some people might say that this is to use alcohol as a crutch, but that's always been the case. Mark Twain, who drank from morning until night, would periodically abstain from drink and smoke just to silence the critics who said he was a slave to his vices. And on his feistier days, he would give them a severe tongue-lashing. "You can't get to old age by another man's road!" he'd scream. "My vices protect me but they would assassinate you!" His critics would then shuffle away to their 12-step programs and the organizing of their sock drawers.

To be a drinker means, of course, to be social. Sure, it's all right to drink by oneself on occasion. But because the highly creative live so often in the private world of ideas, they also need to mingle with their friends at a good party. That's why F. Scott Fitzgerald threw his fantastic "Gatsbyesque" parties on Long Island, inviting such other besotted artists as Gloria Swanson, Sherwood Anderson, John Dos Passos, and Dorothy Parker. Remember, though, when entertaining the highly creative some ground rules need to be set. Fitzgerald's were posted at the entrance to his home in Great Neck:

Visitors are requested not to break down doors in search of liquor, even when authorized to do so by the host and hostess. ... Weekend guests are respectfully notified that the invitation to stay over Monday issued by the host-hostess during the small hours of Sunday morning must not be taken seriously.

It's always good to think ahead.

Lastly, something should be said for the occasional weekend bender, that is as long as your head is in the right place. If a person is suppressing problems or going through severe emotional distress, alcohol can bring out bad tendencies ... like singing karaoke. But if you're secure with yourself, the occasional bender can be a rather helpful mystical experience. As Henry James once wrote, "Sobriety diminishes, discriminates, and says no, while drunkenness expands, unites, and says yes!"

Vice Two: Begin with a Smoke

In today's climate, smoking might be the most unpopular of all the vices. To say that the furor over its ill effects has reached irrational levels is an understatement. Let's accept the guidance of journalist Fletcher Knebel, who keenly observed as far back as 1961 that smoking is the leading cause of statistics. The fact is that most people who smoke don't die of lung cancer. But all people who don't smoke do die of something. Marlene Dietrich, who had her own special love of cigarettes, put it into proper perspective:

People who quit smoking think that they have made a pact with the devil and believe they will never die. In reality they die from other illnesses: intestinal cancer, stomach cancer, cancer of the pancreas. Cancer forever gropes around for further victims.

So let's not place blame on the lowly cigarette for the infirmities of the world. Yes, smoking has its risks. So does getting out of bed in the morning. But a good smoke is often a lovely affair worth pursuing.

Take the great Spanish filmmaker Luis Buñuel, an ardent lover of tobacco and life's pleasures. He elevated cigarettes to the level of poetry:

If alcohol is queen, then tobacco is her consort. It's a fond companion for all occasions, a loyal friend through fair weather and foul. People smoke to celebrate a happy moment or hide a bitter regret. I love to touch the pack in my pocket, open it, savor the feel of the cigarette between my fingers, the paper on my lips, the taste of tobacco on my tongue. I love to watch the flame spurt up, love to watch it come closer and closer, filling me with its warmth.

Makes you want to light one up right now, doesn't it?

Smoking has often been linked with creative genius. For example, French philosopher Albert Camus is well known to have savored his smokes though his lungs were withered by tuberculosis. And who can imagine Albert Einstein without his pipe, George Burns without his cigar, or Jackson Pollock without a cigarette dangling from his lips? Though a stimulant, smoking has a relaxing influence and allows the mind to empty itself, enabling new thoughts to enter. Following the wisps of smoke as they leave one's mouth might actually be thought of as a creative exercise or, at the very least, as Oscar Wilde once observed, smoking a cigarette is "a perfect pleasure, because they are exquisite and leave one unsatisfied."

Vice Three: Put Gambling First

Gambling is at the heart of every worthwhile accomplishment in life. Consequently, vice three is essential for the success of your creativity. Instinctively, the highly creative person knows that nothing matters except the throw of the dice. As the French say, "There are two great pleasures in gambling: that of winning and that of losing." Or, in the words of Mark Twain, "There are two times in a man's life when he should [gamble]: when he can't afford it and when he can." These are vital lessons.

The world is full of stories of highly creative people whose success was based on the big gamble. A young Steven Spielberg sneaks into a Hollywood film studio, sets up an office and proceeds to act like an employee, thus beginning the most lucrative directorial career in history. Thirty-year-old Henry Miller moves to Paris with little money and no prospects, determined to become the most talked-about American novelist of his generation, and does. Hugh Hefner boldly walks into the offices of John Baumgarth and acquires the rights to reproduce the photograph of a nude Marylin Monroe, a little known starlet, for his yet-to-be-published magazine.

Certainly, there are horrifying stories of those who gambled and lost heavily, whose compulsive involvement in games of chance, often played out in the arena of big business, nearly ruined them and scores of others. But it's not until the end of life that we truly know what we've won or lost. French philosopher Denis Diderot summed it up eloquently:

The world is the house of the strong. I shall not know until the end what I have lost or won in this place, in this vast gambling den where I have spent more than 60 years, dicebox in hand, shaking the dice.

Vice Four: Think Oysters

The hysteria concerning eating habits has nearly reached the grotesque levels granted smoking. Fat or non-fat? Cholesterol free? Salt or no salt? Most eaters, as long as they exercise a modicum of restraint, don't have to worry about dying from their diet. And all those critics who have tried to convince us that food is poison should be taken behind the shed and whipped with a massive slice of uncooked bacon.

Let us bow to the wisdom of the marvelous chef Julia Child, now an octogenarian. When asked about so-called health foods and non-fat products, she gnashed her teeth and stated emphatically that she never would buy such crap, that they have nothing to do with the enjoyment of life.

Make no mistake, the highly creative do enjoy life. Sure, sometimes there is a suicide among the group, and many are often prone to fits of depression. But when they finally decide to stop wallowing in their suffering, they embrace life with passion. And when it comes to food, they want to eat well, and eat properly. In other words, foie gras, fresh asparagus and filet mignon will always win out over a plate of french fries and greasy burgers. At least it will for those who are truly creative and whose imaginations permeate their lifestyles as well as their art. Something that sadly can't be said of lesser creatives -- Rosie O'Donnell and Tom Arnold come to mind.

Certain foods are frequently associated with highly creative people. None more so than the oyster. The inspiration of this shellfish can be traced throughout the canon of English literature. From Geoffrey Chaucer to George Bernard Shaw, it reaches its zenith with a tribute by Saki, who wrote, "The oyster is more beautiful than any religion, nothing in Buddhism or Christianity matches its sympathetic unselfishness."

I'm not sure I would describe them in such exalted terms, but I do know I have had more invigorating conversations with writers and painters over a plate or two of fresh oysters than any other food. The elegant bivalves inspire a level of discourse often missing in our quick-meal culture -- yet one that any dining experience should never be without. And for many people there is the added pleasure of oysters being the next best thing to sex. After all, we don't eat for the good of living but the enjoyment of it.

Vice Five: Seek Fashion First, Then seek to be Understood

In these days of dressing down and "casual Fridays," it's prudent to remember that the highly creative have always known that communication with words is secondary. When winning friends and influencing people, the primary concern is your attire -- your own peculiar fashion statement. It is through the impact of this image that both friends and enemies will initially come to know you. What is more gratifying than having everyone stop and stare, wondering why they feel so drab and ineffectual, when you enter a room? If you've got a stylish wardrobe, the battle to be understood is merely a stroll in the park.

One of the inevitable consequences of dressing down is that everyone today looks the same-- and those with designer logos like Hilfiger plastered on their clothes look plain stupid. The highly creative always choose their wardrobes with a more consistent flair. Whether it be Picasso with his striped sailors' tops, which he imagined gave him an eternally boyish edge; or Hugh Hefner with his classic pipe and silk pajamas, which he believed gave him a kind of worldly nonchalance (and could be stripped off quickly when opportunity knocked). The creative spirit picks a style and sticks with it.

Today there is a growing demand for comfort without any regard for style that numbs the mind. Comfort is, at times, a worthwhile consideration. But simply because your clothes aren't comfortable doesn't mean you can't enjoy them. In the days of Mozart, fashion was notoriously uncomfortable. Yet in a letter to his sister he once gushed, "We put on our new clothes and were as beautiful as angels." Sure, he sounds like a twit, but the important point is that the beauty and style of Mozart's wardrobe overshadowed any discomfort. And it is this attitude that inspired our own Benjamin Franklin to proclaim, "We eat to please ourselves, but dress to please others."

Vice Six: Sex

The sexual appetite and prowess of those possessed by creativity can't be argued. Anecdotes abound regarding the bedroom antics of famous writers, artists, and actors. But why is it that sex yields such power over these individuals?

Perhaps Omar Sharif summed it up best when he remarked, "Making love? It's communion with a woman. The bed is our holy table. There I find passion and purification." This sense of purification is extremely important, because such an experience is needed to begin the whole creative process anew, and is a state difficult to achieve now that religious rituals have fallen by the wayside.

The catharsis that comes from this experience often leads highly creative people to pursue several lovers. And many are venomously referred to as philandering Don Juans. But it isn't for lack of affection that a Don Juan goes from woman to woman, as Camus explained: "But rather because he loves them with equal enthusiasm and each time with all himself, that he must repeat this gift and this exploration. Why must one love rarely to love well?"

Richard Burton's lovers would agree. They proclaimed it made no difference if he were with another woman the following week because when he was with them they were his whole world (try finding a woman that understanding these days). But it's not surprising that Burton found so many willing lovers. This is how he described his lovemaking: "When you are with the only woman -- the only one you think there is for that moment -- you must love her and know her body as you would think a great musician would orchestrate a divine theme." (Today most men maneuver themselves the way a line cook orchestrates a three-minute egg.) Consequently, Burton felt that in many ways he was monogamous, because when he was with one woman, he never thought of another. Needless to say, the highly creative are highly creative at rationalizing their behavior.

Lastly, something need be said with regard to the highly creative who are lovers of the same sex. Writer and historian Gore Vidal is quoted famously as stating, "There are no heterosexuals or homosexuals, only homo- or heterosexual acts. Most people are a mixture of impulses." Maybe. But before the days of George Michael and public toilet rendezvous, sex for those driven by a desire for their own gender often took an even more mystical form than heterosexual love. In the mind of American poet Walt Whitman, sex encompassed:

... all bodies, souls, meanings, proofs, delicacies, results, promulgations, songs, commands, health, pride, the maternal mystery, the seminal milk, all hopes, benefactions, bestowals, all the passions, loves, beauties, and delights of the earth.

Heckuva list.

Vice Seven: Abuse the Card

To nurture the previous six vices resources are needed. Because most highly creative people never fully enter the work force, nor make a salary sufficient to their needs, credit is a necessity. Hunter Thompson cut to the chase nicely when he declared that the first and most important rule of a writer is: abuse your credit for all it's worth. The highly creative travel an expensive road, and the best way to stay between the yellow lines, or at the very least keep food on your table, is to abuse the card. And the larger the debt the better the bet. As the essayist Samuel Johnson observed:

Small debts are like a small shot -- they are rattling on every side and can barely be escaped without a wound. Great debts are like a cannon, of loud noise but little danger.

Which must be the reason I feel so safe and secure when my card authorizes another round of drinks for the table.

Don't fear if your creditors come closing in on you. When the highly creative find themselves in financial straits, they skip town. For example, in 1891 Mark Twain took a much-deserved vacation in Europe, which lasted nine years, leaving his legion of creditors to antagonize the less fortunate along the banks of the Mississippi. Today, it is even easier to take a long, literary holiday. And don't forget, bankruptcy is an option always worth considering. In fact, some highly creative people find utter destitution spiritually enriching. Novelist John Updike once wrote:

Bankruptcy is a sacred state, a condition beyond conditions, as theologians might say, and attempts to investigate it are necessarily obscene, like spiritualism. One only knows that he has passed into it, and lives beyond us, in a condition not ours.

Having nearly reached this "sacred state" several times already, I can't say I would describe it in such lofty terms. I prefer the more pragmatic view Shakespeare took: "He who dies pays all debt." Or Oscar Wilde's strangely sentimental one, "It is only by not paying one's bills that one can remain in the memory of the commercial classes." For my part, I'm doing all that I can to be remembered for a very long time.

In the end, everyone should remember that the highly creative always have expectations of great things. Their accumulated debt should thus be viewed only as an advance on their future earnings. But it's not an easy life. One should never underestimate the amount of distress caused by overzealous creditors. Especially when they bear down on poor debt-ridden artists, for these harassed souls are often the true visionaries of our time, or any time. When approached yet again by one of his many creditors, Lord Byron implored, "It is very iniquitous of you to make me pay my debts. You have no idea the pain it gives one." I feel his pain.

Conclusion

If anyone should still be left unconvinced on the benefits of pursuing these vices, let us remember these sage words of Abraham Lincoln "It has been my experience that those with no vices have very few virtues."

credits : www.frictionmagazine.com

Confined contemplation.

Where did i go wrong?

And they left once again, the people that matter. Yes, it hurts. Especially when you were so close once upon a time. The repetition of the cycle - people walking into your lives as they choose to, leaving as they wish. It sucks. I suppose I've got to learn to accept the harsh realities of life huh. And in these stuck in the rut moments, the ones that you thought would be there went on a disappearing act, while the ones you never expected turns up and makes it a little less agonizing and a little more bearable. Haha, the irony much. Maybe I need to realign my evaluation towards people aye? Go figure.

One cannot love and be wise.

You may not be her first, her last, or her only.

She loved before and she may love again.

But if she loves you now, what else matters?

She's not perfect and you aren't either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold on to her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she'll give you the most vulnerable part of her that she knows you can break - her heart.

So don't hurt her.

Don't change her.

Don't expect more than she can give.

Smile when she makes you happy.

Let her know when she makes you mad.

And miss her when she's not there.

♥