The Flight of the Rocketman

It passes. The rest of the song fades away. The piano is only a piece of dignified furniture now. -- The Atheneum, Lakambimni Sitoy

It happens. Things just silently fall into place. Things follow according to plan. And sometimes, you were not part of it in the long run.

One of my rackets just died on me. I could've made a huge amount of money; I already started and finished half of the work. I was panicking because I haven't received the downpayment yet but I was on a good authority that it would push through. And then, it was over. Half of the project was already done and the idea was shot down and I'm not even going to get paid, not even a downpayment.

And I was already counting my chickens, I haven't even been given eggs yet.

This always happens when I work with my father. I told him, "Dad, don't you ever get that feeling we were never meant to work together? Everytime we try to start a project, it falls flat on the ground..." He told me that he didn't believe that. It was a matter of time that we would work together. But, I may not believe in fate or destiny, but there are certain patterns and I do believe the universe tells us certain things.

There are systems, there are unearthly processes that surrounds us... we are trapped in them. The universe, one of the old powerful systems tries its best to share its knowledge. We have to learn to separate these echoes of wisdom from the assumptions that grow fully-grown from our heads. That's the trouble with being a thinking race. We end up muddled by our own thoughts.

Sometimes, thinking can be a problem. Like today, I decided I was going to give a call to someone who has been trying to fade out of my life for quite a while. I've already made the conscious choice to never initiate contact again but no... I had to call and the phone had to connect and even if that person was overseas; I had to speak. I had to say, "Hi, hope you're okay. Hope you're doing well. I really miss you."

Stupid. I am so fucking stupid. And now, it's over. I find myself throwing myself back into the stupid moebius strip and I'm going in circles, round and round, never ending.

Did you know that if you cut a moebius strip at the center, it only ends up becoming longer, bigger? Cut it again and it becomes 2 strips, one inside the other.

There's a symbolism there that I cannot fathom; other than the fact that once you're in a moebius strip -- you cannot get out.

Much like love, really...