It's been an interesting weekend I suppose. It's never much different, except from an occasional
drinking binge or two, depending on the mood of course. But its all right in my mind.
Routine is always a good thing, as it is the root of all
predictability.
Last night was great.
Mike's Hard Lemonade and
Neon Genesis Evangelion. Cheap
wonton soup and staring at complete strangers at 3 AM in the morning. Nothing else much about it. I've recently received news that I've lost an old friend to a stabbing. Due to the amount of time in between in which there was no contact, he has become more of an acquantance but still,
memories do not allow me to think of him that way. His liver stopped working on Wednesday apparently and my ex-girlfriend informed me. I've been down since then and having people ask me questions I need not be asked at this point do not work. But to each his own I suppose.
Waking up late, I still found myself sleepy. I haven't slept much, and since I tend to
dwell on certain issues, death right now didn't make me feel much better. Then I found out my uncle is sick, and apparently wasn't able to function properly. He's my favorite uncle, as he always treated me like his son, though I never had the chance to
reciprocate the feeling back. We went to visit and while I was ecstatic to see him since I don't see him often with our conflicting schedules, it tore my heart to shreds to see him in such a frail condition. I tried to console him by ensuring that if he needed me, I'll be there. Tried to make him laugh, and partially succeeded. But when I didn't, it scared me. He always was the cheery one. But its a situation in which
optimism would be the best solution for all. At least that's what I tell myself.
You deny that fact to suppress that facet of your reality. Creepy.
I went with my family to the cemetery today, to visit my long departed late maternal grandparents. I never grew up with them, with myself only meeting my grandmother once and never meeting my grandfather. I didn't want to go. Its not that I don't want to pay my respects to the departed but cemeteries always seemed the perfect picture of the limitations of human mortality. While truthfully saying that I'm not afraid of death, I rather not be around symbols of it. The whole scene reverberated in my mind for a few hours. How I stood there, on the sidewalk, staring at the
horizon, with the sky turning from light blue to red. The cold wind sending chills down my spine. The view of far away memorials filled with flowers, making an eerie
mosaic of both everlasting love and despair. I remember wondering what it would be like if there were no visitors here placing flowers. How that mosaic would simply be a peaceful picture of greenery with breaks of greyish tiles. But that only depressed me so we left.
The rest of the night was composed of the gym and other regular Sunday activities. Not overly fun, but definitely not productive. I should study tomorrow, but definitely after work. Have to go to the doctor as I have to see if I'm suffering from
lockjaw because the right side of my jaw is bothering me. Hopefully. I seriously need to get out of this funk...