Monday, February 28, 2011
It was not an unusual night. There was the cold breeze, the darkness, and some people walking by who looked like they were part of a movie set. There was this particular woman, wearing a white dress that night. It‘s hard to describe exactly what she was wearing. It was simple and elegant. She was beautiful in her simplicity. She reminded me of garden party scenes. Someone you know would be easy to love and easy marry.
I noticed it was late, so I knew I had to be going home. I decided to go to a bar and get a beer. Just one beer wouldn’t hurt; I was not in a hurry for anything. This proves how pointless my opening statement was.
At the bar, there were more foreigners than natives and for some reason I felt more comfortable. At least I didn’t have to worry about anyone I know seeing me at that time. There was this man, though. He was also a foreigner. You know how open they are to just talk to anyone? Well, he did talk to me. I sort of didn’t mind but I was hearing him blabber about his daughter and how beautiful she was and how single she was too. Now, that may be fine but I really wasn’t interested. I didn’t know how to give him a “leave me alone” gesture that wouldn’t be offensive. And so, I just listened to him talk about everything that I don’t know and have no plans of knowing about. I blanked out of course. Then the inevitable, my one bottle beer turned into two bottles, then three. Later, I was surrounded by foreign women and what seemed to be their husbands near the billiard table. Well, I cannot be entirely sure, but I believe they weren’t all married, because I wouldn’t have my arm around one of the foreign women that night. Yes, I was drunk. I thought I needed to get away before I do anything stupid. I knew where this was going.
So, I tripped and tumbled on my way out of the bar. I think I even bumped my head on one of the posts holding the roof of the walkway. I was trying to remember how much I drank while walking home, just so walking home won’t feel like walking home.
As I neared the place I reside in, I couldn’t help but overhear the arguments of a couple who were just a few meters from me. They were in my path. The man talked argued that the woman cheated first, and the woman argued that she wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t close enough to another woman that it seemed that he was also cheating. I wasn’t as drunk anymore upon hearing something I would call harsh equality. I tried my best not to look at them but I don’t think they even knew that I was present and was passing by. I thought of the woman I saw earlier that night. You know, the beautiful, elegant woman in white. If only it were that easy. But I know from experience that the love I seek is not the easy love. Yes, easy to fall in-love with, but not so easy as to keep. So, the marriage part, even if I know that I cannot provide what is needed in the physical world. I know I’m ready for everything else. It’s just strange that we, as flawed beings of this universe, always complicate what is already complicated to begin with, when it’s as easy as breathing.
May 2009
Sunday, February 27, 2011
I now know why "breakups" or "cool-offs" are difficult. It's the fact that you wouldn't know how bad or worse things could get in the near future. It’s like Schrodinger’s cat; in the experiment, where a cat is put in a box along with a flask containing poison and a radioactive source, is placed in a sealed box. If an internal Geiger counter detects radiation, the flask is shattered, releasing the poison that kills the cat. Now, you’re going to have to open the box to find out if the cat is dead or alive. You would have to live with the assumption that the cat is still alive or dead. In that sense, the cat is simultaneously alive and dead. Yet, when we look in the box, we see the cat is alive or dead, not both alive and dead. At least that’s according to Copenhegen interpretation.
Looking into the “alive or dead” part of the experiment in relation to my current situation, I will never be sure that she will still have the same feelings that I have for her in the long run of this situation. And she too should be thinking the same of me, at least that’s how I see it. But I will never change my mind about her.
Now, going to the “dead and alive” bit of the example given, I have no clue what so ever to what that means. All I can say is that I interpret that in our current situation to be pushing forward, living on without meaning, without enough reason to breathe. Like a real walking dead.
I wouldn’t have known about Schrodinger’s cat if it wasn’t for her. She was the one who showed me the book, or at least a few pages of it. I guess all I can do is wait it off. She’s running this experiment and I just have to wait till’ she’s ready. Opening the box in time is up to us and hopefully the cat is still alive. I’ll be waiting.