The Terrible Writings of Quentin Montejo
Serial experiments on a fallen archangel who only wanted to regain just one wing back
Free of the World. Rain worshipper. Hermit. Tormented mind. Caged spirit. Defiant and eternal enemy of Destiny and Fate. Poet. Scientist. Artist. Daydreamer. He who laughs. Slacker. Sleeper. Romancer of wings and clouds. Fiercely independent. He who is ponderous. Games and anime junkie. Four eyes. Caveman. Nature-lover. He who doesn't think that hard. Non-smoker. Music-junkie. Counter of blessings. Guitar-hugger. He who simply wants what everybody else would like to be in this world and the next -- to be happy.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
If It Is To Be, It Is Up To Me: A Rant
I read that in the elevator. Pretty cool that it's all composed of two letter words eh?
I wish I smoke cigs. Truly, this situation I have warrants it. A real puff coming out of my mouth to fit this damnation. Maybe it could calm my anxiety.
But, as things would have had it -- I don't smoke. I don't have much of any vice or bad habits either, so what is a person like me to do? Die of a cardiovascular disease by 50? Mmm, that's not too bad.
Let's just put it this way. We have closing chapters in our lives right? So far the closing chapters, when it happens, leaves me dry and wretched. Ah, is it called misery? I fearlessly say it is.
I once read from a friend about closing chapters. That it is something that has to happen and something you must do because it's just the natural way things go. If you don't, you'll be missing out on the things to come. Kind of like if you let yourself go to a standstill, you'll harm yourself more -- you're stunting your own growth.
Still ... right now ... I feel miserable.
And I am causing it. Writing all of this here somehow calms me. Sort of like a group therapy thing. Unfortunately, it's scaring the shit out of me at the same time for the same reasons.
Here I am. Typing. If the person sitting here right now is the person, say, a couple of years ago, he would've fared worse. The inexperience would just turn him into a cretinous fool.
As luck would have had it, the person now, is the ME now. With tons of battle scars and experience. I'm beginning to wonder what sort of person I'm becoming because of the culmination of my experiences.
I have so become accustomed to the patterns my life is going through that whenever I feel like running away like a whimpering dog, my experienced side brings me back to the fray ... and sometimes back into the fire. Was it a display of courage or foolishness?
What is it Quentin? What are you trying to achieve? What is it that you are failing to do?
I no longer ask questions like why things like this are happening to me. Nope.
Anyway, let me stop right now.
The numbness in my limbs are a tell tale sign of the coming storm. I've seen a lot in my lifetime. And again here it is now. Maybe I should make a sport of it?
I'm tired. What's worse than that is I should feel tired but my mind is not allowing me to.
This too shall pass ...
Shit man, I've been letting so many things pass by me. Will I give it up? Now?
Like snarling through air with all your fury and anger. But there is nothing there ... just air.
Damn it damn it damn it. What is it with meeeee right now. It's driving me nuts.
A lot of swirling emotions that I couldn't contain. I can never get used to thisssss.
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