The Flight of the Rocketman

Are you in? -- Are You In, Incubus

Today, I used my checkbook for the first time. I wrote down my first check and now I have leased a studio condo under my name, with my money. I've taken the first steps to independence.

I'm frightened as all hell breaks lose in my head...

But I find myself in strange surroundings. The people I hang out with are not the same people I hung out with years before. The life I lead is so different now from what it was last decade. The changing times are so fast that sometimes I feel I can't catch up. It's as if I was reacting my whole life and right now, looking back, I can finally see what I've been leading my life up to.

I just hope it is worth it.

Finished reading "Geek Love" and I loved the book. Very powerful, very biting and sour and moving. The last part drove me to tears that it frightened the cab driver to no end. He was paranoid, probably thinking "Why the hell is this asshole crying? I'm sure he's so dizzy... Who's stupid enough to read in a moving car anyway?"

Well, I couldn't put it down. Sorry. And now, I can't wait, Alan Lightman's "Diagnosis" which looks every bit as interesting as "Einstein's Dreams."

Here I go again with my geeky, nerdy side. But in a way, it's a comfortable escape from the busy "workaholic wanggo" and the "party wanggo" and the decrepid and most hated "pathetic, loser wanggo" who keeps trying to rear his ugly head but I refuse to let him take over.

Geez! I just realised I sound like a barbie doll. I guess when you are having mood swings to the point where you can identify yourself according to your objective for that moment and the mood that you are in; you know something has got to be terribly wrong.

I'm sorry... But I want thrill and excitement. I want the unknown to bite me in the butt. I want loud bass lines, drum loops and synthesizers blasting away through the night and then, in one split second - utter silence. I refuse for things to be turned predictable. I don't think I can take that. More than anything in the world, don't take away the flavor...

To someone: I almost died seeing you the other day. Sometimes I keep forgetting that you are allowed to exist outside my reality. That, yes, you are allowed to be at public places and allowed to shop and do your own thing. You do not exist merely as a story element in my life... I don't know why I reacted the way I did - the loss of breath, the hard beating of my heart, the confusion and panic and fear. What is it really that turns me from inside out, head over heels, and floating in space without direction. What is it that you do that makes you so special?

Will you miss me when you go? I'm so used to not having you around, not hearing from you.

Why do somethings have to be just touch-and-go? Sometimes, they are the things that matter to you the most?

Better question: why do we always ask questions we know we will never know the answers to? This natural self-infliction of pain; this exercise in frustration. These unanswered questions that we cannot help but ask.

In the end, it only means you are alive and that you are living well -- feeling passionate about something, feeling so much that it hurts and that you can feel you can fly or burst or whatever. That's it, really. For me, that's the meaning of life -- sensations, be it bad or good. "I think therefore I am," said one philosopher. I'd like to rephrase that to something more suited to me - "I feel therefore I am."

I exist because I feel, I feel strongly about things. And I know that is what keeps me alive and what will keep me human.