The what could have beens, the what if's of the world. All the regrets and soul searching we do......then we power shop. Nothing makes us feel better than buying crap we don't really need. I for example have 7 black suits....wait its actually 12. Double breast, single breast, three buttoned, Nehru suits all black all serves no real meaning full purpose except that I look good in a black suit. Which, coincidentally makes me look like i'm always going to a wake. I am a victim of my own hypocrisy. And as Virgina Wolfe always says, humans should always contradict themselves, thank you Nikki Paley of Omaha for that quote. As humans, or rather just because we're over paid Americans, we seek comfort and satisfaction from our material things. It doesn't have to be something worn, it could be a manicure or a facial, a car perhaps, a mid-life crisis convertible at 29. Sadly this has become the norm, seeking salvation through retail means. Why seek inner knowledge when a pair of shoes will suffice? Who wants to look at themselves in a different light and find out who they are when a new shirt frmo Kenneth Cole will do? Who wants alone time when you can go clubbing and order 20 dollar apple martinis amomg people who for the most part just wanna score?
The truth is no one really wants to kow the truth, we surround ourselves with iPods and laptops and designer clothes. In the end are we all as shallow as the people we can't stand? Is that why the cult of celebrity is as big as it is? That in a small way we too can live a celebrity type life by going to the same clubs? wear the same designers? pretend to be fabulous like Paris Hilton and Leonardo? DiCaprio not DaVinci. Why go to a museum or read a book? Those activities are reserved for the well......uncool, like myself. So where does the soul searching of this ranting and raving toxic New Yorker begin? Well, as cliched as I am it all started at a cafe on Bleecker Street sometime at 1am where I was alone and writing like I usually do. It was a calm night in the village, not the usual bridge and tunnel set, the cafe was deserted with only myself and a young girl at the other end of the cafe. While I did not mean to eavesdrop she spoke loud enough that I think people in the East Village heard that she got dumped by her boyfriend, and decided to drown her sorrows with cheesecake and Green tea, a strange combination indeed. Then clarity struck!
I am not as cool as I think I am. Well, I am but thats the fake me persay, deep down I'm a geek. Thats right, me. I like reading and museums. I actually don't like going out clubbing or lounging in Manhattan. I prefer comfy jeans and a sweater and not the dress pants and shirts from Hugo Boss. I can actually discuss history and quantum physics. I'm actually a pretty smart guy, nerd-like even. I do dram the line with role playing games and such but all in all, yeah I'm a geek. Which led me to this....why am I so afraid of myself? Why try and be something I'm not? Then it struck me, I'm a selfish, egocentric bastard. I'm doing all this, to get a really hot girl....then panic stuck.....IU have become my own worse nightmare. Needless to say at 1am I deserted my decaf cafe mocha for a bottle of burgundy.
I am human above and beyond. Secondly I'm a New Yorker everything else is unimportant.....or so I like to believe. The rather painful process of clarity is like unleashing the floodgates. Its one thing to critize others and society but to realize that you yourself are also one of them, then all of a sudden words like hypocrite and fake jump at you. While in the end I have no one to blame but myself, in the end I will blame society for creating this monster. Not just within myself but within us all. We all want acceptence, in some way we all dream of a better life where we are actually anyone else that isn't us. Theres a pressure, a certain sense of expectation placed upon ourselves. To be beauiful, to look a certain way, dressa certain way, behave a certain way....sooner or later while trying to live up to these expectations, we lose ourselves along the way, then it just becomes easier to forget that deep down we are all insecure.
So as I sat there, slowly getting numb with the red wine I had ordered, I am reminded of all my insecurities. So I'm a bit short by American standards.....and I'm Asian, which brings up a whole entire insecurity thing, but lets just say being an Asian male ain't easy. I have chubby cheeks, thanks mom for passing down that bit of DNA. And I overcompensate by dating beautifiul women way beyond what I should be allowed to date, which in the end willend in 3 months and I begin another shallow, destructive relationship. I need a drink now. So thats it. I enter into these shallow relationships because I am shallow and insecure and thats why a leaping leperchaun like myself with a smile a six pack of beer gets lucky. And I wonder why I average 3 months a girlfriend. I find that I'm constantly fighting within myself these two sides of my personality, the shallow selfish prick and the nerd, geeky, humble dork. Shallow and selfish usually wins, usually because I have a weakness for redheads and women with accents. I digress. By 230am and a half bottle of burgundy red later, I still haven't figured out who I am? Perhaps a combination of the two? Like most of us in the world we are always fighting the good angel evil demon on our shoulder conscience. Like most people I'm just trying to seek approval, nay I say......kudos for dating some beautiful or pat on the back for being trendy and popular......like most people damnnit I wanna be noticed.....and the cold sinking feeling of dread set in....I Am Paris Hilton....there is no justice in the world. By 4am, one bottle of wine and an impending hang over ready to set in, I walked over to said girl, who is still at the cafe at 4am, waiting for something anything, I walked over to her and said, "Theres no justice in the world and in the end....we only end up disappointing ourselves....not to mention the guys a prick and you deserve better." She in her teary eyed astonishment, said "Thanks." She had a French accent, I may be in love.....
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Now a purely non- deep moment random thoughts:
Never drink a bottle of wine the hang over is killer. When in doubt quote George Bernard Shaw, it makes you look smart, witty, well-read all in one shot so you can fake intelligence, depth and humor. Things are a privledge not a right, thats to the 300 pound woman who bent over to pick up her cell phone on the downtown 2 train at 4am. Stripper poles should be tax deductable....and a pre-requsite before marriage. Trust me a good stripper pole equals a good lasting marriage, not that I would know. And finally... I may be in love or rather infactuated with someone I never met or talked to or even have a chance in ever meeting which leads me to ask......is that healthy or am I just a borderline stalker?????Ahhh and one last final thing....and this is a purely ego driven request..I've never been stalked a girl, I feel a bit insulted that I haven't been worthy of stalking...any takers on being my first?
The truth is no one really wants to kow the truth, we surround ourselves with iPods and laptops and designer clothes. In the end are we all as shallow as the people we can't stand? Is that why the cult of celebrity is as big as it is? That in a small way we too can live a celebrity type life by going to the same clubs? wear the same designers? pretend to be fabulous like Paris Hilton and Leonardo? DiCaprio not DaVinci. Why go to a museum or read a book? Those activities are reserved for the well......uncool, like myself. So where does the soul searching of this ranting and raving toxic New Yorker begin? Well, as cliched as I am it all started at a cafe on Bleecker Street sometime at 1am where I was alone and writing like I usually do. It was a calm night in the village, not the usual bridge and tunnel set, the cafe was deserted with only myself and a young girl at the other end of the cafe. While I did not mean to eavesdrop she spoke loud enough that I think people in the East Village heard that she got dumped by her boyfriend, and decided to drown her sorrows with cheesecake and Green tea, a strange combination indeed. Then clarity struck!
I am not as cool as I think I am. Well, I am but thats the fake me persay, deep down I'm a geek. Thats right, me. I like reading and museums. I actually don't like going out clubbing or lounging in Manhattan. I prefer comfy jeans and a sweater and not the dress pants and shirts from Hugo Boss. I can actually discuss history and quantum physics. I'm actually a pretty smart guy, nerd-like even. I do dram the line with role playing games and such but all in all, yeah I'm a geek. Which led me to this....why am I so afraid of myself? Why try and be something I'm not? Then it struck me, I'm a selfish, egocentric bastard. I'm doing all this, to get a really hot girl....then panic stuck.....IU have become my own worse nightmare. Needless to say at 1am I deserted my decaf cafe mocha for a bottle of burgundy.
I am human above and beyond. Secondly I'm a New Yorker everything else is unimportant.....or so I like to believe. The rather painful process of clarity is like unleashing the floodgates. Its one thing to critize others and society but to realize that you yourself are also one of them, then all of a sudden words like hypocrite and fake jump at you. While in the end I have no one to blame but myself, in the end I will blame society for creating this monster. Not just within myself but within us all. We all want acceptence, in some way we all dream of a better life where we are actually anyone else that isn't us. Theres a pressure, a certain sense of expectation placed upon ourselves. To be beauiful, to look a certain way, dressa certain way, behave a certain way....sooner or later while trying to live up to these expectations, we lose ourselves along the way, then it just becomes easier to forget that deep down we are all insecure.
So as I sat there, slowly getting numb with the red wine I had ordered, I am reminded of all my insecurities. So I'm a bit short by American standards.....and I'm Asian, which brings up a whole entire insecurity thing, but lets just say being an Asian male ain't easy. I have chubby cheeks, thanks mom for passing down that bit of DNA. And I overcompensate by dating beautifiul women way beyond what I should be allowed to date, which in the end willend in 3 months and I begin another shallow, destructive relationship. I need a drink now. So thats it. I enter into these shallow relationships because I am shallow and insecure and thats why a leaping leperchaun like myself with a smile a six pack of beer gets lucky. And I wonder why I average 3 months a girlfriend. I find that I'm constantly fighting within myself these two sides of my personality, the shallow selfish prick and the nerd, geeky, humble dork. Shallow and selfish usually wins, usually because I have a weakness for redheads and women with accents. I digress. By 230am and a half bottle of burgundy red later, I still haven't figured out who I am? Perhaps a combination of the two? Like most of us in the world we are always fighting the good angel evil demon on our shoulder conscience. Like most people I'm just trying to seek approval, nay I say......kudos for dating some beautiful or pat on the back for being trendy and popular......like most people damnnit I wanna be noticed.....and the cold sinking feeling of dread set in....I Am Paris Hilton....there is no justice in the world. By 4am, one bottle of wine and an impending hang over ready to set in, I walked over to said girl, who is still at the cafe at 4am, waiting for something anything, I walked over to her and said, "Theres no justice in the world and in the end....we only end up disappointing ourselves....not to mention the guys a prick and you deserve better." She in her teary eyed astonishment, said "Thanks." She had a French accent, I may be in love.....
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now a purely non- deep moment random thoughts:
Never drink a bottle of wine the hang over is killer. When in doubt quote George Bernard Shaw, it makes you look smart, witty, well-read all in one shot so you can fake intelligence, depth and humor. Things are a privledge not a right, thats to the 300 pound woman who bent over to pick up her cell phone on the downtown 2 train at 4am. Stripper poles should be tax deductable....and a pre-requsite before marriage. Trust me a good stripper pole equals a good lasting marriage, not that I would know. And finally... I may be in love or rather infactuated with someone I never met or talked to or even have a chance in ever meeting which leads me to ask......is that healthy or am I just a borderline stalker?????Ahhh and one last final thing....and this is a purely ego driven request..I've never been stalked a girl, I feel a bit insulted that I haven't been worthy of stalking...any takers on being my first?