Finding Time

Life, to me, seems like this abundant journey of aimless endeavours. You take a step, you find yourself stepping backwards. You plunge head-first ... and you still find yourself falling on your ass. All for what? The sake of Happiness? To feel 'Complete'?

It's always bothered me how many, if not all of us, need the presence of someone else to make ourselves feel 'complete' ... 'happy' ... 'whole'. What's worse is that you're never ever guarenteed a joyride. All you can do is hope, at least until you find yourself swallowing your pride, shot in the heart, at a loss of hope and feeling 'incomplete', 'unhappy' and not-so 'whole'. Thus begins the vicious, aimless cycle of what we call Life... Or at least Love Life.

That's exactly the story of my Love Life.

I started dating when I was 13. That being said, that is when I came out of the closet and began expanding my horizons as it were. And throughout the entire 5 years of searching and chasing something as insipid and vague as Love ... I still feel like a total fucking Noob.

I like to think people change too often. Not their style. Not their hair. Not their clothes. But their thoughts and maybe their emotions, too.
We set out for our 'journey' per sè, living life [or trying to] and finding what we would call Paradise. No, it's not an Island, actually. It's metaphorically used to represent a state of feeling Perfected and Whole, Beautiful and Happy.
And when we find something remotely similar, or even just as great ... We shrug it off and run away from it. Scared? Shit yeah.

They say we get wiser as we age but I can't help but notice how much more stupider human beings become, myself included. We're so indecisive and callous, uptight, arrogant, stubborn, naive. We're like the geographical substratum of all things Fucked.


So I'm bitter. Sue me. I've had my heart ripped out, stomped on, pulled apart, sliced and diced into millions of pieces all because I was unlucky enough to want something I thought would, uhh... Save me? Yeah. Love isn't gonna save anyone. Take it from a pro.
Only recently I've decided it's the last straw.


Your lover... kisses you and... you feel a tremor in the back of your knees.
The synapses fire, sending orders: "Move your legs, move your arms."
He's the one for you. He's the... man of your dreams. He's your... one and only... And you know, because... the smell of him makes your head swim, because... you get a physical jolt every time... he sends a glance your way. I mean, he touches you here... *touches neck*
and you feel it... here. *touches crotch*
You touch him anywhere, and you feel it everywhere.
And then... boom! It's 4 months later.
And he's wanting to touch someone else.
And you might say...
Hey, Riles... relationships end, lovers leave, leaving labyrinth of heartache and betrayal.
But is that it? Is our entire journey into finding Love just a big fucking Maze leading nowhere? Micked with trips and mines and all things as such meant to hurt you.

I know there's gotta be more to it than that.....
....there HAS to be.