Truth is, i can see that she's nice. but i never really liked my brother's ex fiance for some weird reason. i dunno, i guess she just had a lot of eccentricities that push me the wrong way. but when my brother bailed on her four days before the wedding, i guess i felt her pain. no one deserves to be treated that way. a few days after that i sent her a short message, and when she replied... wow, that was overwhelming. basically, she read me right, she saw right through me. and i thought i was good at hiding my true feelings. She knows that the indifferent and happy go lucky, drunkard persona was just a front, and she could see all the angst i keep hidden inside. and she could tell that i was lonely, that i find it hard to talk to anyone in my family because i don't feel any sense of attachment to any of them, and she could tell that i've turned from bad to worse ever since my grandma died. Shit like that i don't even like to hear from my closest friends, and i most definitely do not want to hear crap like that from a person i only encounter casually. The truth hurts and that's why i often try to avoid it. I don't like it when people become all confrontational and shove the truth right at my face.
But these past few weeks i have been coping. after that horrible news last march, remarkably i'm doing fine. the weekly drinking sprees help me keep my mind of things like they've always had. smoking a joint every now and then soothes my nerves too. but the thing that helps me most these days is rugby. that's right, after so many years i've started playing a sport again, and a contact sport at that. tackling people helps me relieve stress. hurting people for the sake of the sport soothes my nerves, and the fact that everyone is okay with it makes it a whole lot better. but i have to admit part of the fun lies in me getting hurt. i smile each time i get a new bruise, every time i bleed, every time my body aches. the masochist in me still rears its ugly head. i like getting hurt, because deep inside, a part of me still wants to be punished. a part of me wants to feel pain to pay for all the mistakes i have made, to pay for all the troubles i have caused on others. if i get stabbed or shot i would probably be smiling as i watch my reflection on the blood pooling on the pavement. staring at my reflection as my sight slowly grows dim, as everything around me slowly fades away. only then will i find true redemption.
my life right now may not be ideal, but i can honestly say that i'm okay with it. for the first time in years, i do not hate my routine. what i earn is more than enough for myself, and i have a lot of free time for leisure. even though i hate my job, all that free time makes it easier to compensate. as long as i do not trouble myself with the future, as long as i do not look ahead and just keep on looking at the present, i feel fine. problem is, i don't know how long this will last. sooner or later i would get tired of playing rugby, the same way i got tired of my favorite distractions in the past. sooner or later i'll be back to that destructive lifestyle wherein i have to get hammered and wasted everyday just to drown all the sorrows and anger away. for now, i am content with the present. who cares about what the future holds. as long as it remains dim, avoiding looking at it is the only way to keep myself from being insane. for now i can turn a blind eye so that my present would not be clouded by the dark visions of my future. for now i can pretend that everything is okay. though it has been proven that i may not be as great at pretending like i thought i was, for now i can still fool myself that i still am. what other choice do i have anyway.
