Creativity for Love

In the first 21.5 years of my single life, girl after girl slipped away from my grasp. And in my mind, I would always curse them and say you don't know what you're missing. One day, I will show you what you passed over -- like Tom Brady to the dozens of teams that said no to him over and over and over again.


Choose the jackass over the sweeter boy. Choose the 6-pack over the heart of gold. Choose him over me. Or choose me.

And now -- it's gratifying. Two whole hours just to make sure one date is amazing -- now, that's perfect. All those ideas I stored up for that special someone weren't meant to spent on anyone but the one i have now. They wouldn't have been worth it. They wouldn't have appreciated it. They wouldn't have responded to it.

And to be honest with you, one of my deepest regrets was to give some girls a sneak preview of what I had in store. To give up ideas to those who were never worthy.

But I've learned from my mistake and they can forever remain in the purgatory of "What if?" while I find the great position of "Thank God that never happened."

I Can See Clearly Now

I was sitting in Ms. Campbell's class and the moment of truth came. I tried to do it without anyone noticing. But there it was, I had to put it on. I grabbed the plastic by the sides and let it slide on top of my nose. And then I waited.

Laughter. Lots and lots of laughter.

It took me a year to realize that plastic glasses with 2 inch frames were not exactly in style. And it took me another 4 years to realize the exact octagonal shape that fits my face well.

And from that point -- I stuck to the same type of frames and the same type of eyewear because I was used to it, because I liked to look intelligent, because I liked have a shield from the rain, because I wouldn't dare think about sticking something in my eye.

But then last Thursday -- the screw in my glasses fell out and I tried fixing it myself. But one thing I found out again was that I am not a handyman. So I said -- this is it. This is the moment where I need to do something about it. I went to the optometrist the next day and by Monday, I put them on. It was a new chapter for myself and more importantly, my eyes.

Two soft, clear lenses to stick into my eyeballs. It took me 35 minutes just to get one contact into my right eye. And when it happened, I jumped up for joy like I did during SuperBowl XLII.

And the journey begins of putting specks into my eye. Of pushing the glasses closer to my nose when there isn't anything there. Of wanting to chew on something with nothing to chew on. Of no longer trying to take off my glasses for dramatic effect. Of scrounging on the floor to find the contacts that I dropped. Of blinking repeatedly when I'm trying to convince myself that it's natural to put stuff in and out of my eye.

But at least now -- I can see clearly -- with two eyes.

Outsider

It wasn't like this before, and I have been warned. I believed the stories half-heartedly, and I guess because of that -- I wasn't surprised when I stepped into a church all by myself and felt lonely.

There I was -- in a community of so-called family 4 life brothers and sisters, and I haven't felt so disconnected. It was partly my fault and partly theirs. But if I had enough balls to say it, it was mostly my fault. The shell of me didn't want to open up next to anyone around me, hoped they didn't ask that I raise my hand if it was my first time there, wished the music would fade up the awkward hellos with the people next to me, and prayed for an opening to leave before the service was over and fellowship begins.

So what does this have to do with the series of "doing something I'm proud of/doing something different" idea? Well -- it's so easy to get back into the Christian fray of things, so easy to step into that bubble that I comfortably ran in my college years, unable to understand the outsiders who felt excluded. For once -- I needed to understand the other side of the story that prompts the non-Christian response: "If none of my friends are going to be in heaven, why should I even go?" Absurdity becomes clarity, and I need that.

On a side note -- there was plenty of great words of wisdom from the speaker, Tony Campolo. But the blog won't be a page full of empty promises and unaccomplishable commitments. They'll be words of action -- a testimony to what I've done. So until I have the courage to take Mr. Campolo's words and sell all my possessions to the poor and walk the earth unashamed to be a Christian, I will keep my thoughts and my raging dreams inside -- for now.

There's nothing worse that commitments that go unfulfilled. But there's nothing better than great dreams that come to life.

Tabula Rasa

No more -- no more. Let's start out clean. Clean slate. Tabula Rasa.

Today, I paid off my entire credit card bill even though another payment wasn't due for 38 days. A credit card bill that was made of bare neccessities and foolish purchases. A statement that I'd rather forget as soon as tomorrow. A credit card bill that has been a thorn in my back for too long. Could any other action feel so debilitating and freeing at the same time?

And now -- I'm poor, yet rich. I'm on my bare bones -- but owe no bones to no one else.

There is no road to brand new day. It is a brand new day.

Brand New Day

It's been a rough after-college experience. I will do anything to go back to the mundane conversations of how little sleep we had, the late-night family guy viewings, and lying about why I cut class.

Everyday since graduation, it's like a sad vision of how life will be in fifty years, and everyday -- a new puzzle piece presents itself, realizing that nightmare as a reality. The biggest fear for me has always been to live a normal life or at least to find the normal life...normal. It could be worse.

I started out rolling a wheel, passing paper to a person in a suit, and pointing at cameras for five months. Then, for the last five months, I've been stuck working an overnight shift that has only made my physical and emotional state on the brink of depression. When I'm not working, I'm chasing after something imaginary -- someone to satisfy me. Food, sex, television, sports, or video games. All I need is access to drugs or money for alcohol and I would've experienced every self-destructive habit the world has to offer. I'm not even 23, and I already know why everyone does anything.

But self-pity never helped anyone. So I declare this a brand new day. And I made a promise to myself when I woke up. From now on, I will do something I can be proud of by the time I go to bed. It won't be amazing by everyone's standards, but I'll need my own moral victories. I'll try to do the crazy things like bungee jumping or the simple things like learning how to change a tire.

Today -- I started by running a mile. Nothing to write home about, but it's something to write in my blog about. Unless you've seen me in the past five months -- especially half-naked, you won't understand how hard that was for me. Nonetheless, I did it. The fat man on the treadmill -- I'm convinced we all need to go through that humiliating scene at least once in our lifetime. But I feel great. I ran. And I felt like I could've died. But I ran.

Till tomorrow, brand new day.