I've heard tell that the more we love, the greater the returns. But if you truly love another without reserve, how can it even enter your mind to expect something in return? Maybe some kinds of love require some form of reciprocity, but what the hell do I know.
What I do know is that I have the utmost regard for one of my dearest blogger friends who doesn't let his/her love for a certain person adversely affect his/her psychological health. He/she continues to love and be supportive, but he/she doesn't just sit around and wait for him/her to come around.
(You/you know who you/you are. I hope I'm doing OK to protect your/your privacy. Inom na lang kaya tayo.)
In the Darkness, the Trees Are Full of Starlight
I'm such a lucky bastard. I have three children whom I love with my whole heart and then some, and who adore me. I have a mother who'd (almost) brave hell and high water for her children's benefit (double that power if my dad were still alive). I have two brothers and a sister who have nothing else but been 101% supportive. I have a handful of friends who are TRULY friends, deeply and sincerely.
Why this overwhelming feeling of bereftness, of isolation, of abject loneliness during my darkest moments? In those moments, I'm truly on my own... pretending, making believe, wholeheartedly missing someone and something. At just the right moment, my saving grace enters the picture. Thank you. You have no idea how much you save me from myself. But you probably know how much I love and appreciate you, my sweetie smartypants, my terrific friends.
By the way, I blame the woman in the following video for my lack of singing ability. She and I share the same birthdate, and she probably caught most of the singing talent here in the Philippines that God was giving out that particular time. I, on the other hand, was probably out scouting the best beer sources that day. That's why she sings like an angel and I can drink like the devil.
Seriously, her voice moves me. As it has so many others. She is a recipient of a Tony Award and a Laurence Olivier Award for her role in the musical "Miss Saigon." (She was the original Kim.)
Lately I've again started having vivid, colorful dreams that both exhilarate and scare the shit out of me. I call them "bokeh dreams." This is how Wikipedia defines bokeh:
Bokeh (derived from Japanese, a noun boke 暈け, meaning "blurred or fuzzy") is a photographic term referring to the appearance of point of light sources in an out-of-focus area of an image produced by a camera lens using a shallow depth of field.
So many of my bokeh dreams, vivid as they are, are slightly out of focus in that they don't come true exactly as I dream about them. For example, one time I dreamed about my gang coming together from all over the world because one of us died. In reality, a few weeks after the dream, we all came together because a member of one friend's family died.
Do you understand what I mean about my bokeh dreams? The reality is there, but it's slightly out of focus. Now, if only I can teach myself to dream more accurately and target winning lottery numbers. :-)
My latest bokeh dream was so vivid I actually smelled the sea and felt the sand on my legs and ass right after I woke up. I'm going again to a place with white sands and aquamarine waters in a few weeks; I don't know, though, what the dream bodes.
But if there's nothing there in store for me other than lovely aquamarine water, fine white sand, and breathtaking sunsets (and happy hour!) I have no complaints. Questions, oh yes. Complaints, no.