Day 44: uneventful virtual aging

My apologies for not writing for the past four days.  Things at work have been really peculiar on my side of the world.  Well that is how I saw through my days:  joyful peculiarity.  Since the new year and my eventful promotion from Training Manager to Mercurial Ass-Licker to the Powers That Be, I had no choice but to be the man.

Well, I am here again.

It’s been a week of basically waking up in the morning, getting dressed, coming to work and sucking into the glossy and sometimes, oily requirement of making something out of myself only to be blasphemed to extreme proportions and arriving at my apartment door, way beyond exhaustion, pondering on what I have missed.  What crafty detail in my overly-detailed line of work have I forgotten to recollect lest I begin the day after conscious of my mistakes and demanding of myself.  And then I crawl to bed with my head screaming.  Or was it my vigorous heart disguising as my mind again?  Telling me to write anyway and fulfill its 50-day promise to paint my life in many different colors and EXPLORE it with dimness or transparency.

Work.  It is so tricky.  And such a distraction.  I wonder how I pull it through and do it with great precision?  I think I am really good at doing something I don’t like.  What do you call that?  Think about this.  If I was this good with my love life, I would have been married by now.  With a hundred kids.

I arrived at 6 AM today after waking up early this morning and began working at 9 AM.  My day at work was forgiving because I didn’t go straight to bed or ate irresponsibly from AIDS (Acquired Immune Deranging Stress).  Instead I lighted candles and enjoyed my newly-bought sandalwood incense.  I watched Janet Jackson videos and aped her dance steps in The Pleasure Principle.  After that, I played Prince: The Hits / The B-sides and saw myself working up a sweat on Cream, Gett Off and the very very funky Raspberry Beret.  And now with my Gatorade and keyed up psyche, I therefore write.  Bliss.

And I thank her highness Madonna for teaching me early on to dance alone because it does not only revive the spirit, it also creates movements that you never thought your own body could do.  Rule the body as they say.  I say do not underestimate the body and the power of music once it goes into matrimony.  The body is a rubberband.  I would’ve died if somebody saw me anyway as I know visually, I looked fucking dreadful, warped up gladly and lost in trance, facial expressions and all!

I just turned 30-something last Sunday.  Appalling.  What is with age that makes one squirm?  Especially after your done with everyone’s scary age of 35?  Is it death?  Is it realizing you haven’t saved up the way you projected it?  That you are, in fact, a full blown adult but broke and . . . loverless?  Or you haven’t been to places you’ve always dreamed of because you are either married, stuck with work, penniless and addicted to desperate measures.

I guess age should be an attitude not a road sign of life’s journey saying You Are Going To Die Soon.  Or a U-turn saying You Can NEVER Go Back So Walk Straight Ahead.  So how do I make it an attitude?  Do I have an attitude?

Let’s consider the following:

1. Pick an age and then stay at it. I’d say 24. I will stick at 24.

2. Stop watching sappy films like Out of Africa or Atonement. Instead, whoop to the likes of Twilight and The Chronicles of Narnia.

3. Stop reading altogether. It will obstruct the thinking process until my brain becomes a liquid mush. This way I’d be so obtuse to notice that the world is becoming smaller and smaller. We all know that the way to Zen is to be as brainless as possible. Perhaps real happiness await beyond the horizon of The Land of the Unread.

4. Eat like there’s no such thing as metabolism and drink as much amount of alcohol like there’s no such thing as alcoholism. I am 24 anyway. I can always go to rehab later.

5. Get laid. Get laid. Get laid.

6. Dwell deep in the etymology of the word COOL. If I acted like I was indeed in my 30s I would not even use the word cool because I think it is uncool to say “Cool” to anything that is scenic, comprehensive, provoking and pleasant. But I am 24. Coolness typify color coordination, dyed hair, backpacks, three-way sex, crying openly in public, public urination, wasting money on valuable things like a Campfire Girls CD or a night out every single night and sleeping late chatting with strangers. What can I say, I am COOL.

7. Change hair styles every week. The trendier the better. With highlights and tints.

8. Trust everybody and remember that everyone is worth your friendship.

9. Do not imagine things happening. Make it happen by hook or by crook.

10. Stop dreaming. What will happen will happen and it is meant to be.

In reality:

1. I am in my late 30s and inasmuch as I want to embezzle my former years, I just can’t. So, now I choose to be who I am going to be: the man from Notes from Underground or the unfeeling corporate maniac whose primary goal in life is to win.

2. The last film I saw was The Lovely Bones and I fell in love, yet again, with Soairse Ronan. Yes, Briony Tallis or that little ogre from the movie version of Atonement.

3. I am reading three books at the same time. Brida by Paolo Coelho, Twisted Travels by Jessica Zafra and Sasso by James Sturz. I am a real happy trooper.

4. I have not been eating rice since the New Year. I am on a high-protein, zero carbohydrates diet because I want to look hot (ter).

5. I haven’t had real sex in 2 years. Real sex means doing it with delicious craze and not throwing the balled condom in the trashbin for a three-point shot afterwards.

6. I don’t care if I am cool or not. Who the fuck cares anyway?

7. After sporting a fickle bohemian hairdo for 3 months, I visited the barber the other day and had it styled neatly. I lost a huge amount of hair. I miss it but I do like my new clean-cut look though. I guess I am wearing my age. I guess.

8. I trust myself. But sometimes, every time I get really emotional, I don’t. Who is there to trust completely? Let’s be realistic. No one is EVER completely complete.

9. I agree with my 24 year old self. I still do I guess but I also believe in the power of the mind. You may not make things happen but you induce it. Always. And it happens.

10. Dream. It is the best past time and self-confessional justification that there is no age limit in being a visionary.

Me with short hair


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