Grinchy Christmas for the Fish

The Grinch: The avarice never ends! "I want golf clubs. I want diamonds. I want a pony so I can ride it twice, get bored and sell it to make glue." Look, I don't wanna make waves, but this *whole* Christmas season is
[shouts]
The Grinch: stupid, stupid, stupid!

Yes, it's that time of the year again (or it was, I'm a little late, but who cares) the whole peace on Earth and goodwill to our fellow men kind of time... I can't help but bloom into a Grinch as the 25th day of December rolls along, why? Well, it brings too many difficult memories to mind, memories that I prefer would stay buried in their graves, but they love to come back from the dead as Christmas dawns with glittery lights, presents, parties, and the whole shebang. I do feel all maudlin as the season arrives, but I can't help but feel sad as well. I do mourn the loss of my magical Christmas, being a kid just bursting with excitement, waiting for morning to arrive so that I get to unwrap the presents that Santa brought for me. Over the years as logic chipped away what was left of my childish powers of "awe" and "wonder" when it came to the celebrated Christmas visitor, I often wondered "How the heck is Santa going to get into our house? We don't even have a chimney. Does he enter our window?". There was a time when I wanted to catch St. Nick in action, my cousins and I devised a fool-proof plan to stay up, hoping to spy on the Chubby man delivering the presents. Unfortunately, we always fell asleep and come morning time the presents were already under the tree. One Christmas morning I finally managed to figure out that "Santa" had the same penmanship as my mother, mystery solved. That sort of ruined the whole Christmas thing for me just a bit, I know that Christmas is not all about the presents, it's about the birth of Christ, but still it was a major downer - Santa a fake? It was the end of my childish days of fantasy. As of late, my Christmases have become rather grown up. or perhaps I've become so disenchanted by it all that I have morphed into... aghast! The Grinch. I don't anticipate the visits from a merry over weight elf flying around in a sleigh pulled by reindeers, who makes a living by breaking into houses and leaving stuff that fuel the covetous nature of children. I have eschewed from leaving him sweet treats on the table, because come to think of it, if all the kids in the world left him milk and cookies all those years, he'd be a raving diabetic already, so I decided to do him a favor. If a child of 5 or 7 were to read this, I would probably scar them for life, but realistically speaking they will realize that old St. Nick does not exist, and would probably feel the same way I did when I figured it out - hoodwinked. But then growing up has it's advantages, as the focus on Santa waned, I came to realize what really made Christmas so magical. It was the hope it brought to people, it's a time to spread joy, and good will to others. It sometimes compels people to reach out to the one's that they have hurt or neglected, it brings people together. Christmas is a time to forget about yourself and focus on bringing joy to others, it's not about how many presents you get, but about reaching out to others by giving them not just presents, but yourself as well. Time is perhaps the best gift that we can give others, because it is something that we can never take back. Spending time with the people who matter to us makes the holidays more meaningful, and yes, magical.

Lou Lou Who: I'm glad he took our presents. You can't hurt Christmas, Mr. Mayor, beacuse it isn't about the... the gifts or the contest or the fancy lights. That's what Cindy's been trying to tell everyone... and me. I don't need anything more for Christmas than this right here: my family.

So you see, I'm not entirely a full blown Grinch.

The Grinch: The nerve of those Whos. Inviting me down there - and on such short notice. Even if I wanted to go my schedule wouldn't allow it. Four o'clock, wallow in self pity; 4:30, stare into the abyss; 5:00, solve world hunger, tell no one. 5:30, jazzercize. 6:30, dinner with me. I can't cancel that again. 7:00, wrestle with my self-loathing; I'm booked. Of course, if I bump the loathing to 9 I could still be done in time to lay in bed, stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness. But what would I wear?

I'm probably a pseudo-Grinch, yapping about how Christmas was ruined for me as a child, but I suppose I'm still a softie... yearning for my perfect Christmas... Hmmm....

Narrator: And what happened then? Well, in Whoville they say that the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day. And then the true meaning of Christmas came through, and the Grinch found the strength of ten Grinches plus two.

Damsel In Distress

DAMSEL IN DISTRESS
He fought his way past the thorny briars and slew the ferocious dragon—all without getting a spot on his gleaming armor. He climbed to the highest room in the highest tower, took off his helmet, and woke the sleeping princess with a gentle (but manly) kiss.
She snapped awake. "ARRRRRRRRRRRGH! Can't anyone get any rest around here?!"
"But... but... Weren't you a damsel in distress?"
"A damsel in _STRESS._ Which is why I was resting, until you very rudely came along and woke me up."
"I'm sorry! It's just that I saw a dragon, and dragons usually guard beautiful princesses and..."
"What did you do to my dragon?!" She ran to the window and saw the bloody carcass. "Pookie! You killed Pookie! Don't you know how hard it is to raise dragons? Every time I manage to train one to sit and beg, some dumb oaf comes along and kills it!"
"I'm sorry—I really am—forgive my—"
"And you chopped down my rose garden!"
"I'm really sorry about that, but I had to rescue—"
"I have HAD it with people who ASSUME that princesses need RESCUING more than they need their BEAUTY SLEEP! OUT!" She bashed him with a pillow. "OUT! I don't want to see you ever again!"
"Okay! I'm sorry!" He backed down the flight of stairs, cowering behind his shield as the princess pillow-whacked him all the way to the ground floor.
"AND STAY OUT!" she yelled as he galloped off into the sunset. She bolted the door, trudged upstairs, and started writing a letter.
Source: Sacha Chua (click me)

A friend of mine has decided to dub me with the great honor or lack thereof, of being called “Bella”. Now, this may seem like an adorable compliment to some of the members of my species, by “species” I mean “women” (probably the fatuous members of my species) but for me, it's just a rather abominable insult – however, I choose to tolerate the deplorable moniker for the sake of being wildly polite (my friend does not know any better apparently). BUT Really? Compare me to the depthless, and not to mention, helpless protagonist of the famed Twilight series??? He was comparing me to that dolt of a girl who tripped all over herself, and mangled the very image of what a “strong and resilient woman” should be by being the paragon “Damsel in Distress”. Seriously? It's bad enough that she was a magnet for ever y conceivable disaster to befall any human being, but she just had to throw herself at a vampire to top it all off, a vampire who became her designated protector (he's got his work cut out for him, he has to keep saving her and at the same time, resist the urge to kill her – now, that is a conundrum).
I actually only mildly resent being called Bella, what irks me more is the idea that someone thinks I am just like her – a person who needs saving..

It must be the age-old male notion that women can't fend for themselves, and should always have a handy dandy man around at her beck and call. Women are helpless creatures and would cease to exist were it not for men, were it not for their brute strength and intelligence, women would not be able to do a thing without them. Men can provide women with what they want and need, all a girl has to do in return is sit, look pretty, and perhaps produce enough offspring to perpetuate the world with more strong men and helpless women. This male chauvinistic belief is just downright offensive, women in this day and age can open their own doors, walk on puddles (dare we step on it and risk soiling our shoes), and defend themselves without the aid or hint of a man's presence to go out of his way to open the door, take off his coat to cover a puddle, and punch some other brute's teeth in.
We don't need to be saved thank you very much!
Back to me - I don't know when I ever gave away the impression that I needed someone to save me, if that ever happened, believe me, I was probably having a bad day. I may appear like a shrinking violet, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve. True, I have never put them into good use, perhaps that is why people seem to think I am a fragile creature (cringe) but honestly, I'm as fragile as a caged Tiger, I tend to keep my real strength locked behind bars, I suppose that's why people underestimate me. That is, until I experience one of my sporadic rage blackouts and the cage door happens to swing open... Carnage soon follows.
I'm not Bella! Not even close, Bella may give hope to every clumsy girl out there (the hope is to find a mass murderer or what have you, equivalent to a blood lusting vampire, to fall in love with them). Bella makes me want to throttle her (if only she wasn't a fictional character, I would so love to beat her up till she's black and blue, that is, if Edward won't mind).
I've had enough with all this Bella rubbish, I'm quite glad to be done with her antics really, and she is not someone I would recommend little girls should emulate – she's at the very bottom of the list actually, along with all the fair maidens and helpless damsels waiting in their respective castles and towers to be saved by Prince Charming a.k.a. Chauvinistic Pig Macho Man.
I, on the other hand would be wielding my own sword, ready to hack off the first person who would dare call me a damsel in distress!!!!

Twilight - The Echo of Question Marks....

Alright, this will probably send a great deal of people running my way armed with torches and pitchforks, with the intent of burning me alive or impaling me to death, and what not, but every one is entitled to their own opinion correct?

I will admit that I am a sucker for love stories, more's the pity if it involves macabre themes and hair-raising stuff like... vampires etc.
So, when the whole "Twilight" madness exploded, I thought, "What the heck..." I read the books much like the general public - or at least the heavily drugged up citizens on romance. I admire the sane one's like my boyfriend who discovered the truth from the get-go, lamentably, I was roused from all the "cloud-nine" feelings for the tale when I realized that at the end of it, I felt well, dead, the better term, since the tale involved vampires, would be "drained" drained of my intellectual power to be left sane about it all.

And then I thought, what a pity, it was an interesting read, but it left me wondering about a great deal of things, things that should have, I don't know "made sense" as the story progressed... True, it is a fictional tale, but something was a little off...

I gushed about it during the beginning, but I prudently kept my "objective" opinion about the series, until I got to the last book, the book that left a gaping hole, kind of a... "That's it?".
The series has its merits, however, there are just so many parts in it that leaves you wondering about things like:
"Why the heck is Bella so damn clumsy?" I mean come on, all the girl does is trip over books, and chairs, and if she doesn't have anything to trip on, her feet seem to do the job well enough to propel her to her to the ground. The whole milking the damsel-in-distress act did leave me cringing, seriously, no girl in this planet can be that pitiful. It would have been incredibly satisfying to have a protagonist to admire, not someone who compelled you to look away (yes, I looked away from the book) every time she fell over or blatanly threw herself at Edward.



Edward, now he is another matter to discuss, as mentioned in the books, he's perfect, but as Bon pointed out, he's a little err... I'm unable to come up with a better term... Bi-polar...
"Oooh Bella smells nice... I love her...", "NO! I must not love her, I'm dangerous...I must stay away...", "Oooh Bella is sleeping, she said my name....", "No, I must leave Bella, she will be happier without me..." - I mean, it threw me off a bit really, I did go into the whole "Edward is sooo dreamy..." phase, but his moody episodes did irk me, not as much as Bella, but it touched a nerve.

I'm not trying to disparage the Author in any way - more power to her, her imagination and her take on the whole vampire world is rather unique, I'm just voicing out my genuine opinion regarding my "reading experience". I did enjoy reading the books, albeit, some parts were just better (more bearable) than the others. If I were to rate the books from 1 - 10 I would give it a 5 or 6 perhaps.
It's interesting, but it lacked depth. The love story was just odd really, it's like she just saw him in the canteen and the next thing you knew, she was madly in love with him, well, I suppose since it's a tale of "young love", the progression of her feelings are justifiable, I think...
I read this critique / discussion (below) from one of the Twilight forums, and I just laughed at the outrageous comments. Yeah, it is rather cut-throat, but it is quite true, if you allow yourself to be a little objective about the series. I won't dare to proceed with my little critique because, well, I think it would be a merciful and charitable act to spare the faint hearted of my opinions and a.) My officemates who are clamoring to read the books will kill me, b.) I don't want to sound all whiny about it & c.)I trust that we have objective and educated readers out there who can weigh the merits and flaws of literature...

In closing, I will say that I do, I truly do, or did enjoy the "lovey-dovey" parts of the tale, I'm a girl, a romantic to boot - sue me... but that's about it, that's the only part that sustained my enthusiasm to read the books.

Enjoy....

Author:
Edwardo0o0o

Source:
click me or better yet, bite me

I am an avid reader. I love and read books voraciously, one of my better vices. Literature is my life. So, when my younger sister told me of the book, Twilight, I decided to take a look. She raved about how awesome it was, a wonderful book worth reading. I decided to look past the fact that it was rated young adult, (after all, there are some books for the younger crowd that have proven themselves to be great books, such as the Chronicles of Narnia, and The Golden Compass). I love vampire fiction anyway, and with that in mind, began reading Twilight.

It was one of the worst experiences in my life.

I have this compulsion, a personality quirk if you will. I have to finish reading a book, and book series. Even if the books prove themselves to be terrible, and shoddy. However. Twilight was the exception. It took all of my strength to finish reading that book. An ordeal that left me drained, and scarred for life. I won't be continuing the series, as I am not fond of pain.

It is beyond me why this book is so popular. For one thing, it is badly written. Written in first person, the book is a prime example of how first person can be abused, and mangled. Most of the book is a minute by minute account of the dull life of the main character, Bella. However, I could overlook the way the writer writes...which is terrible, if the story was good. And If the characters were compelling, and were able to show me their world, and make me feel for them. Twilight, was none of those things.

What attracts people to vampire fiction, is the struggle of good and evil. Are vampires automatically damned? Are they trading away their souls for immortality, and twisted perfection? Is such immortality a perverse imitation of God's plan for eternal life in Heaven? Are they evil, or is it possible for a vampire to be good? The sun (God's light) denies them. They feast on human blood every night, when they were once human themselves. The moral quandary of vampires is what makes vampire fiction so great. Good and evil battle within every story, an eternal theme that replays every day within our lives and imaginations. Vampires internalize that struggle, that age-old battle, within their very beings. A battle that means their soul, or the loss of such.

Twilight manages to destroy all that is good about vampires in one foul swoop. In Twilight, vampires do not burn in sunlight. No, such a mark of evil would ruin the god-like perfection of Twilight's vampires. Instead, they glitter in the sun. Glitter. That is perhaps one of the most ridiculous things I have ever heard. Instead of vampires, we now have angst ridden, depressed pseudo-angels. So beautiful and perfect, their kisses can make you faint, and no doubt their farts smell like fresh-baked cookies. The sun makes them glitter so prettily, sort of like how all those kiddie shirts have words written in glitter these days. The battle of good and evil does not exist. While the vampire, Edward, bemoans the fact that he is a vampire, the absolute perfection of his being takes away from such apparent suffering. In fact, it makes him seem whiny, and irritating.

Bella, the main character, is an attractive teenage girl, who moves to a new town. She is unaware of her attractiveness, so as to give her cliched character some depth. Bella has pale skin and dark hair, as heroines of vampire fiction must be pale of skin and dark of hair. She listens to classical music, and reads classic books such as Pride and Prejudice, and Sense and Sensibility, her musical and literary choices an attempt to show how unique and how much of a maverick she is. Bella doesn't care about the popular things in high school, again another trait to show us that Bella is really cool without trying, which makes her extra cool. This poorly written attempt to make Bella into an interesting and multi-faceted character, falls short, as Bella has as much depth and personality as a sheet of paper. Her character really has no interests or personality, beyond her obsessive love with the vampire Edward. In fact, it seems the only point to Bella's life is to love Edward, as teenagers know so much about being in love. This is worse then an over-dramatized teenage romance, I could almost appreciate that. This is a soap-opera...with vampires.

Edward's character is absolutely perfect. A god among men. His beauty is overwhelming, and constantly noted, so we don't forget how amazingly beautiful he is. To prove how awesome Edward is, he doesn't hunt humans. No, Edward hunts mountain lions. It's nice to know that we have perfect god-like vampires killing off an endangered species, as humans aren't doing a good enough job of it. He falls in love with Bella, and her scent, which is beyond me. Edward's character is portrayed as a perfect being. He has lived far longer then Bella, making him far beyond her in emotional and mental maturity. Yet, he loves her, a flawed human who is still little more then a child. Which makes Edward, a pedophile.

All the characters are flat. Nothing is there to allow for the reader to connect with the character, to share their pain and love. Edward and the other vampires are too perfect, having the power of powers. A reader finds it impossible to identify with such absolute perfection. In fact, it is annoying, as how can there be any trials to overcome if the character is so perfect and amazing in every way? Bella has nothing to her character beyond love for Edward, she is just a card-board cutout to further the romance of the story.
The twisted farce of a true love that Twilight parades about is disturbing. A generation of young girls now believe their only goal in life to fall in love with Edward. The main character, Bella, isn't even liked by Twilight fans, as she is competition for Edward's love. Twilight has created a female character that reflects poorly on the gender, diminishing all respect toward women, and showing women to be weak-willed creatures always in need of rescuing. Twilight essentially tells young girls that the only point to a girl's life is to get a boyfriend. Find the perfect man, gain true love...and that's about it.

All of the above combines into what is one of the worse books in literature. It is a soap-opera, full of cliched, trite bullshit that is enough to make someone stop reading for good. There is nothing original or creative to the book. In fact, no one likes the book because they think it is original, or a good read. They like it for Edward, they want to be Edward's girlfriend. Congratulation Stephanie Meyer, you have convinced young girls that their only purpose in life is to be a girlfriend for Edward. I'm a romantic myself, guilty as charged, but there was no real romance to this book. Only a bizarre obsession between two characters, both of whom have personalities that are about as interesting and multi-faceted as a potato. This is not romance.

The book is a travesty toward vampire fiction, and romance in general. It is a sad state of affairs when a bestseller is so horrible, that there is absolutely nothing of value to it, beyond a nice cover picture. I hope that the younger generation eventually turns to better books, ones that have an actual point. A story, a message to tell, something that connects us all with a common theme, and characters that reflect our own short-comings and accomplishments. Unfortunately, that won't happen while Stephanie Meyer continues to write kiddie slash fiction. Perhaps all the money she gains from the books, book merchandise, and movie is worth what she has lost in artistic integrity. May all the gods of literature have mercy on her soul.

Trish inserts:

Again people, do not condemn this person (above) for dissecting the series, it is his/her opinion, you are entitled to yours, as am I. I think Stephanie Meyer is very clever, creating her own version of how vampires should be in her world - I applaud that, what's sad though is that the books swallow you whole and spits you out in the end, it's fast paced, taking you from point A to Z , leaving you craving for satisfaction when it ends, with a lot of question marks trailing in it's wake.
Point A. Bella finds Edward in the canteen - Point Z She dreams about him and soon it dawns onto her that she loves him... What happened in between exactly?
Point A. Edward meets Bella, and realizes she has a very potent scent, which he finds irresistible, which draws him to her (or repels him sometimes) and he is filled with the consuming urge to kill her, but his conscience kicks in and by some perverse twist of fate, he becomes her errant protector - Point Z he realizes that he has feelings for her too...

~Cricket sound echoing~

Just an opinion people, don't bite my head off for using what brain cells I have left...
It's a cool read if you were a hormonal teen who has yet to experience the bittersweet trials of "true love", or if you're just hoping to re-awaken the teen in you (longing for vampiric love and all that jazz)... after all, it is a tale that is tailor made for the kiddies or perhaps, the young at heart (grin), but for those who have gone beyond the realms of the "teen" mile post - or for those who posses a more diverse literary palate, and has savored and appreciated the timeless masterpieces of Anne Rice & marry it with a little Shakespeare.... allow yourself to think about it...
I'm not launching an all out propaganda against the book, no,no, I did enjoy it (some parts anyways) I'm just saying that it leaves a lot to be desired....

Quel dommage

As told by Edward ~spoof~ (click me)

Links to other interesting reviews for the twilight series, click on the names:

DEAR AUTHOR
by: Jane

(Twilight)

(New Moon)

(Eclipse)

(Breaking Dawn)

Birthday Girl 2

And so the Fish Queen turned 22.

It's rather interesting how a person (for argument's sake, let us call her Trishiee) who balks at the idea of being the center of attention, ironically gets two surprise parties, two cakes, and tons of smiling chums.

Behemoth props goes to my hard-headed best budz (Mon & Mad) who knew very well that I didn't want a big bash (take note: this was surprise 1), but yes, for contradiction's sake, I loved it, and was deeply moved by it, that is, after I recovered from the "shock" which approximately took a looong ride home for the full effect of the moment to sink in... After a self- imposed state of "zombie mode" I was jazzed out from my drunken or half-dead stuper by the sight of the grinning faces of the people around me, little did I know, there was a surprise brewing. The details are a little fuzzy, I blame it on the "shock". Anyway, there it was a chocolate cake with 3 lit candles, plus m&m's chocolates patterned after the number 23 - yep, I did a double take on that... me? 23??? A very chagrinned Monny smiled sheepishly, Maddy had a good laugh, just to clear things up folks, I'm 22 - but the cake was soooo awesome. Seriously, I always wanted a cake with m&m's on them - wish granted. I got the cutest presents, a fish & dog shaped cookie from Maddy, a book from my sister & pasta!!!!!!- I got all that all before sunrise people, Thanks for the siomai Rene, and for showing up with Pizza - the sheer awesomeness of it all was overwhelming.
Squish & I had lunch at Bigbys, and he gave my my pressie, a book!!! Yey!

Fast forward to let us say around 5ish pm I was surprised yet again by the swing shift gang of VN with their Flounder bday card and cute green cake - If I could blush scarlett, but my skin color protects me from being overtly embarrassed, still, I would've been red as an apple as they sang and offered me the card & cake. Behemoth props again to the people who mastermined surprise 2 and who enjoyed coloring my Flounder card (love it). If I could get my tear ducts to function properly, I would've cried, but nope, not one drip, but just so you know, I was crying inside? haha. Really guys, what can I say? the "word nerd" is truthfully at a lost for words... Who knew turning 22 would be emm... a rather "ostentatious" slash glorious, and magnificent time / event. As I mentioned in my previous blog entry, I have learned differences between a gift and a present... Presents are objects wraped in colorful papers, or placed in boxes, while gifts... Gifts are intangible, to put it simply, they are priceless. (I'm having an emo moment) but I realized the real "gift" that I received was the presence of all my wonderful friends & loved ones awwwwwww... I couldn't ask for a more meaningful & wonderful moment to turn a year older...

Thank you guys....

Birthday Girl

11-20-86 BDAY Tomorrow, or by midnight tonight, I will be turning a year older. Well, it has finally come, the momentous day of my birth, the day I popped out my mother's.... err.... ah... right, where was I? Birthday!!! I'm not really bursting with merriment at the thought of turning a year older, it sounds as if I'm turning 100, rather than uhem... 22. It's no big deal I suppose, but for the life of me, I don't know why it's not entirely my piece of cake (no pun intended, you know, since it's my bday there will be cake?). I roll my eyes or subtly groan, like an aggrieved child, every time somebody cheerfully reminds me that it's going to be my birthday tomorrow. Over the years I have taken part in lavish celebrations, and a girl could get used to that type of treatment, you know? Birthdays tend to be a big deal for some people, myself included, but I don't know... I tire of the noise and presents... no, I'm joking I love the presents!!! Hmm... Therese Regina Marie, always the perennial brat. We'll see how it turns out alright?

Stay tuned...

What Becomes of The Broken Hearted?

As a thought enters my head, the opening lines of the song play...

I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing
Just prayin' to a god that I don't believe in
Cos I got time while she got freedom
Cos when a heart breaks no it don't break even

What makes a person a compelling writer, is it his/her ability to put words together, or their passion for a given topic? My definition of a great writer is a person who can walk in the shoes of others, one who can take an emotion and stretch it with his/her knack for using words to convey a powerful message. A blank page on the screen is no different from a empty canvas clamoring for a work of art to be created.
With that said, what emotion am I trying to yield inspiration from? The song: Breakeven by The Script. It is actually the key that allowed me to reflect on the subject of being heart broken.

Her best days will be some of my worst
She finally met a man that's gonna put her 1st
While I'm wide awake she's no trouble sleeping
Cos when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven... even... no

What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you and
What am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and your ok
I'm falling to pieces yeah
I'm falling to pieces

It is true, hearts don't break even, there will always be one person who is besieged by the pain, while the other is just blissfully unaware of it - impervious to the other person's feelings.
Why is that? are people just callous by nature? I don't think so, I believe it's just that people find out that they deserve better, or wish for a reprieve from a life spent with a person that is filled with too much chaos. To be perfectly honest, people just move on, and tire from fighting for a relationship that is begetting more bedlam rather than contentment & peace.

They say bad things happen for a reason
But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding
Cos she's moved on while I'm still grieving
And when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven even... no

What am I gonna to do when the best part of me was always you and
What am I suppose to say when I'm all choked up and your ok
I'm falling to pieces yeah
I'm falling to pieces yeah
I'm falling to pieces
(One still in love while the other ones leaving
I'm falling to pieces
(Cos when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven)

It hurts. Broken hearts don't mend by themselves, obviously. Some people tend to wallow in it, embrace the pain as it were - thinking that somehow they will die from so much agony.
Have I ever experienced the malady that we call a broken heart? Yes. It's hard, watching someone you love walk away from you, towards somebody else. It's excruciating trying to figure out what you did wrong, or was it ever enough - the things you did? It's a pity to find out that the person you loved was afflicted by ennui and sought out excitement in the arms or the company of another - and there you are, left to salvage what is left of your pride and pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

Oh you got his heart and my heart and none of the pain
You took your suitcase, I took the blame.
Now I'm tryna make sense of what little remains ooh
Cos you left me with no love and no love to my name.

I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing
Just prayin' to a god that I don't believe in
Cos I got time while she got freedom
Cos when a heart breaks no it don't break
No it don't break
No it don't break even no...

"And this too, shall pass " I heard that quote from the movie "My Best Friend's Wedding" the bellboy told Julia Robert's character that after she griped about her feelings. The thing is, the pain doesn't last forever, it is actually our choice to either drown on all that misery or just get up and move on - easier said than done, I suppose. Hearts will never be made practical until they become unbreakable, what becomes of the broken hearted? they write songs, write books, or find some way to rip the feelings out of them till the feeling ebbs and they find the joy of being whole again.

Wicked

I had the strangest dream today, I dreamt that I was being chased by a dragon. When I woke up & consulted my trusty online dream dictionary, this is what it had to say: "To dream of a dragon represents a struggle between the good and the dark sides of yourself."
My first thought upon reading this, "Tell me something I don't know".
Actually, it's no secret that I have this whole Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde split-personality thing going on. I can't put my finger on it exactly, but yes, I have the propensity to be sickeningly sweet one minute and then without warning, I morph into this vicious and wicked person - I can't really explain why, perhaps women are just made that way, or maybe I'm an extreme version of my species hmmm... But to shed light into this whole issue, based on the famous novel of Robert Louis Stevenson (Strange case of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde).
He introduced the idea of the duality of human nature. Conveying the notion that both good and evil exists in every individual. There is an inner tension of both forces and from time to time, one of the forces may overpower the other and tip the balance - a person can either be naturally good or evil, as it were. The choice is up to them...
This leads us to the topic of the struggle of good and evil, extending to the knowledge of right and wrong...
We've seen it all I suppose, Superman VS Lex Luthor, Batman VS The Joker, Angels VS Devils... There is always that battle between the two forces, some of us end up cheering for one team, "Team Good", "Team Evil" but here's an interesting question, what pushes a person to go from being good to becoming somebody vile and just downright evil?
In the case of Harvey Dent in The Dark Knight, the death of his beloved Rachel shoved him into what we call "The point of no return" it's when the good guy becomes unhinged and takes matters into his/her own hands, they have the "Screw it" attitude, "Screw right or wrong..." that sort of thing and they just go with what their gut tells them. In Harvey's case, he unleashed justice via coin toss, fate decides whether his victim lives or dies... bla bla... either way, the dude who was one of the defenders of Gotham City, fell to the dark side thanks to a little push from The Joker - I guess that's how evil works, it was an absolutely wicked move. (Don't get me? Watch the movie).


Anyway, back to moi, as of late, or for a month now, I have allowed myself to become unhinged in a way, I mean, I have always been ruled by this notion that I should always be nice to everybody, that I should be polite and what not, but that whole act came back to bite me on the ass (pardon the language), and because of a rather unpleasant wake up call, my whole perception of being good ended up being flushed down the toilet, I went down with it... Clawing my way back up was not an experience that I relished or would want to relive ever! but to give credit to that rather dreadful ordeal, the journey allowed me to stop and smell the dirt and grime and (pardon me again) the crap (which is the total opposite of stopping to smell the roses)... Yes, an inner voice spoke to me, a voice that I have ignored since the beginning, and it told me things that ripped the wound open... every day. As the truth sank in, something broke inside of me and much like the contents of Pandora's box - all hell broke loose...

So what is this dream telling me exactly? Hmm....

“All things truly wicked start from an innocence.”
~Ernest Hemingway~

Air Spud

Ladies and Gentlemen I give you the new addition to the new breed of wonder athletes of the canine world: Air Spud.
Yeah, you read that right. Sadly, I wasn't around for the awesome moment. By the way, Spud, is my Shih Tzu pup, actually I'm not sure he's a Shih Tzu he looks more like a Chow Chow - I really don't know how that happened, he was a tiny bugger, who had to be heavily medicated on account that he had the sniffles as a pup, I'm guessing all those antibiotics caused some sort of mutation that allowed him to go POOF! Seriously, he's quite chubby for a Shih Tzu.


Anyway, Here's the story, I got home from work, which was around 1am and my sister (who was miraculously awake at the time) excitedly yammered on about Spud's amazing adventure. Prior to that, I woke up on that day hoping to be greeted by my rather pudgy pooch only to realize that he had been kidnapped by my sister and carted off to Sacred Heart Jesuit for a another fun filled story added to Spudee's day out adventures. Anyway, my sister was saying "It was sooo kewl!!!" everbody loved Spud blah blah blah. I wasn't surprised since Spud is quite popular anyway, but here's the part where I went "AWWWWWWWW". According to my sister, Spud was walking around the grounds os SHSJ, he sat on the grass (probably amazed by the feel of it, since we don't have grass at home, just a lot of dirt anc concrete) so, there he was in all his pudgy and adorable glory watching the world around him without a care - that is, until he spied a bunch of kids playing soccer. It seems the kids who were having their P.E. class were practicing, their balled rolled all the way to our fuzzy mammoth of a canine, and what does he do? He pushes the ball with his nose. The ball rolls away and the kids, as well as my Mother & Sister, watch in amazement as Spudee runs around with the soccer ball. The kids play along and somehow their teacher tells them "At least the dog knows how to play Soccer".


When my sister finished her narration, I was amazed, Spud, who somehow knew that we were talking about him, padded his way towards me and panted, his tongue sticking out. "Well, well, Fatty" I told him, "And here I thought you only loved to eat & sleep. Who knew, you were into sports?" at that, Spud tipped his head to the side. I don't recall ever allowing him to watch "Air Bud" I have no idea where he got his penchant for rubber balls & etc. This pooch has been spoiled rotten by my parents. He has clothes and toys, and he rides around in our car like he owns it. Ha ha Air Spud Hmmm.... I can see it now, Spud having his own film - Beverly Hills Chiuaua watch out!

What am I trying NOT to say?

"The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful."

~Oscar Wilde (The Portrait of Dorian Gray)~

I bet you're curious, wondering what I'm thinking about right now. Here I go again, I mutter under my breath, as a dangerous thought enters my mind. I have nothing to say, so, I won't say a word about it, lest I should unleash my own version of the contents of Pandora's box into the world. All I have are words to a song, a thousand songs actually, but I managed to filter out the one's that will convey the profundity of my thoughts...

Always On Your Side - Sheryl Crow My yesterdays are all boxed up and neatly put away But every now and then you come to mind Cause you were always waiting to be picked to play the game But when your name was called, you found a place to hide When you knew that I was always on your side Well everything was easy then, so sweet and innocent But your demons and your angels reappeared Leavin' all the traces of the man you thought you'd be Leavin' me with no place left to go from here Leavin' me so many questions all these years...

I know, I'm back to square one again, allowing myself to enter this impermeable brooding state, stuck in the doldrums.

Over It – Katherine McPhee

I'm over your lies, and I'm over your games. I'm over you asking me, when you know I'm not okay. You call me at night, and I pick up the phone. And then you be telling me, I know your not alone. ohh.. Thats why (your eyes) I'm over it (your smile) I'm over it (realize) I'm over it I'm over it I'm over.. Wanting you, to be wanting me. No that ain't no way to be. How I feel, read my lips, because I'm so over.. Moving on, its my time, you never were a friend of mine. Hurt at first, a little bit, but now I'm so over. I'm so over it..

This is not the first time that I will put this in writing, I am a hazard to myself, (whew) that wasn't so hard... I ought to be locked up in a room with padded walls and restrained by a straight jacket or something. I shouldn't be left alone with me ha! Does that even make sense? Much like Niki Sanders from the popular series “Heroes” I have this alter ego that well, she doesn't go around killing people, but if looks could kill, I'd be a mass murderer by now...

Makeover – David Cook

Lost her way from everything she swore she knew, a friend
Run away from start to finish though it never ends
In her mind she is blinded by all she sees
Close your eyes; just pretend the bullet isn't there
No surprise; no need to pretend that no one really cares
But in her eyes you will find the very best in me

What are you looking for?
Are you looking for something more?
It's not me
It's not me

Here I am again, thinking about.. Well, that... The voice in my head is telling me to unleash all of this pent up frustration over... BLANK, but why? Who exactly is to blame for the reemergence of this rather interesting thought in my head? I should be blaming myself right? I bet you are positively clueless right now, wondering what in the world am I talking about? Emm... I have no clue either, it's the OCD, it bugs me ad nauseum, and I'm still learning how to rein in the obsessive thoughts... I'm not throwing in the towel, though it is quite tempting to relinquish this... insufferable... feeling?

The temptation is unbearable, I think I did yield to it, which brought about my imminent demise... emotionally. Hmm... I think I'm giving my secret away with all these details. Have you figured it out yet? The root of my temptation? It's not hard really... I want to be over it, but I can't, and it is always by my side, I tried to change and get a makeover, but it turns out this torment that I'm going through is far from over...

Over – Lindsay Lohan

I won't be the one to chase you
But at the same time
You're the heart that I call home
I'm always stuck with these emotions
And the more I try to feel, the less I'm whole
My tears are turning into time I've wasted
Trying to find a reason for goodbye

I can’t live without you
Can’t breathe without you
I’m dreamin' bout you
Honestly, tell me that it’s over...

Waiting to Exhale

Here's a quick narrative of a very VIVID dream I had the other day...

I opened my eyes and noticed that it was dark outside, there were no lights in my room, and I realized that I had fallen asleep. I woke up to a beautiful sound, a sound that heralded the promise of life for the Earth, for me it only stimulated long buried memories, memories of a much more simple time in my life that has long gone by. I don't know why, but as soon as I heard the sound, I stood up and quickly bolted outside my room, I ran as fast as I could ignoring the puzzled stares that greeted me along the way...
I ran outside with my arms outstretched allowing the rain to pour over me. Yes, it was raining...
I stared up at the murky sky covered with feathery gray clouds amid the inky darkness of the night sky, the stars were carefully hidden, but I stared at the sky anyway knowing that they were there. The torrents of raindrops drenched me, I closed my eyes allowing it to simply wash over me, the cold water traveled the path down my head, to my neck, down to the valley of flesh that covered my heart, to my legs, then to my feet. "What was I doing?" I asked myself, no answer came to me. I just stood there in the rain and it felt wonderful.
With my eyes still closed, I sighed. "I could stand here all night, without a care in the world...". This was my version of heaven, standing in the rain allowing the rest of the world to disappear. Finally, I found peace, I sighed again.


Perhaps I spoke to soon, for my new-found peace was shattered by an amused laugh, I was about to open my eyes to see who it was who dared to intrude on my solitude, but then a piece of cloth covered my eyes and a hand covered my mouth. "Don't scream" a voice whispered in my ear, it sounded amused. "I'm going to let you go, only if you promise not to speak or to uncover your eyes...". I nodded, then I was released. In the darkness of my mind several questions fired, the moment I heard the voice I knew who it was, but I was too incredulous at the moment. "He shouldn't be here..." my mind told me. I just stood motionless wondering what he was doing, questioning the reason behind his silence. I knew he was standing just inches away from me, I also knew that he was staring, for I had an unnerving feeling that his eyes were burning my face.
The rain poured endlessly and we just stood there like two statues. I didn't speak, nor open my eyes, even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have anything to say, nor would I have the courage to look at him. I felt him move closer, and my heart raced, I felt him take my hand, and unbeknown to me, I stopped breathing. He chuckled, "Breathe..." I exhaled quickly, but said nothing. He rubbed his thumb on my knuckles, sending currents of electricity down my spine, I restrained myself, but I shivered anyway. He chuckled again, "Cold?". I shrugged, "Do you know why I'm here?" he asked, I shook my head.
He was silent again, probably staring at me, only God knows why he does that, my face can't be that fascinating. I suddenly felt him move a bit, and he let go of my hand. I sighed in relief thinking that he was going to leave, what he did next made me take leave of my senses. Mutely, he traced my face using his index finger- from my forehead, to my nose, to each eyelid - my heartbeat went berserk as he reached my lips and lingered there. "What are you doing? Please stop" I thought, my mind panicking. As if he read my mind, he answered, "Don't worry, I'm simply conducting an experiment...". "What experiment????" the words burst out before I had time to prudently keep my emotions in check.
He laughed, "Are you afraid of what I might do?" there was amusement in his voice, his finger traced my lips again, "Just go along with me, and let me remind you again that you promised not to talk...". He resumed his little experiment, and his finger traveled to my chin, then my neck. My heart rammed into my chest as he traced the sensitive part just bellow my neck, tracing my collar bone, I gasped as he planted a quick kiss on the hollow area where the two collar bones met. "STOP" my mind screamed. He chuckled, as if sensing my distress. He took both my hands and placed them on his face. "What was he doing?" then as if my hands had a mind of their own, unbidden, I was shocked as they mimicked what he did to me, except both were used to trace his face. I could feel his breath coming out ragged, unaware that my own breathing was the same. Both my thumbs were close to his lips, and it seemed my hands stilled, afraid to go any further. His face moved, and I was acutely aware that he was smiling. He took both my hands and set them aside, placing his own hands on my face, he leaned his forehead on mine and spoke:
"Stop running away from me...Stop pushing me away... I want-". All the while my eyes were still closed, he was too close to me, even as the rain poured, I felt his warmth, his little assault on my senses, left me weak and dizzy. I could not seem to breathe properly, and if my heart didn't beat any faster, I could have sworn that I was a sure candidate to be diagnosed with Tachyarrhythmia.
"What do you want, what do you want to do huh???" I asked in a strangled voice. He sighed, "Believe me, you don't want to know what I want, more's the pity about knowing about what I want to do...". This should have silenced me, the warning in his voice should have sent messages to my brain telling me to just shut up, but then. "Why don't you just do what you came here to do, and get it over with" I bit out - and then, my heart suddenly pounded harder, as I felt his hands pull my face forward as he crushed his lips onto mine.
I should have stopped him, but I didn't, I should have pushed him away, but I wrapped by arms around his neck instead- my gravest sin had to be saved for last by my conscience, I should have stilled my lips instead of kissing him back....
The world was spinning, pinning me to that moment, it was still raining, but the sound seemed so far away. It was wrong, but it wickedly felt right. When the kiss ended, it felt like I was submerged in water for a while, and I was finally able to come up for air.
We were silent, then I felt him take off the blindfold. "Don't open your eyes yet.." he leaned his forehead onto mine again, "I want you to know that you're the only one I want, you're the only one who matters to me, everything else ceased to be of substance in my life the day I met you. I want you to know that you are my life now. You can keep fighting that fact, but that's it, I have said it, and I'm not taking it back. I need you, perhaps, not as much as you need me, or you seem to forbid yourself to need me, but I'm here, here, needing you, wanting you to need me as well. You're not getting rid of me so easily, I won't let you. Do your worst, I assure you I don't scare easily. I will fight for you, even if I will be fighting against you, against your doubts, fears, and your own demons. I'm not going anywhere, and you can't make me leave...."
His words petrify and stun me at the same time. "I'm here...." he said, simply, and then borrowed a few lines from Notting Hill.

"I'm just a boy, standing in front of a girl asking her to love him..."

That's when I opened my eyes and saw his face, his expression was inscrutable, but his eyes, his eyes told a different story. In his eyes, I found my answer as to why I loved the rain. The rain is the beacon of hope for the Earth and it's lands, especially the soil that has dried up, suffocated by the intense heat. The rain breathes life to a land ravaged by the absence of vapor, which causes drought. You can't hear it, but when the first drops of rain touch the dry Earth, it breathes, exhaling in relief after inhaling the breath of life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ With that realization, in a way I knew that I'm the land that has been besieged by years of drought and devastation, and he is the rain bringing with him the hope of life.
So, there I was staring into his eyes, eyes that conveyed the truth of his words, and his promise. I had no fight left in me, I was tired of running away, so I surrendered. I stretched out my arms like what I did for the rain. I wrapped my arms around him, and there in that moment standing in the rain, with him, as the Earth breathed in new life, I gave in to my hope, the Earth & I exhaled.....

Playing A Game You Can't Win

Here's a rather thorny question that has plagued humanity for eons, or probably for one time in my life it happened to be extremely significant- and if it weren't for my crazy penchant for devouring novels by the dozens, the debate wouldn't have been roused from its slumber.... Ah... the age old question (in my mind or perhaps in the minds of other individuals as well):

If you had to make the choice, who would you choose to be with: The person who loves you, or the person that you love?

It does not seem like a paradox of sorts right? I mean, you can be with the the person who loves you, that same person could also be the one that you love....Ah... but not all of us are lucky enough to find ourselves in that rather “clutter free” situation. By “clutter free” I mean, you have all the elements working for you, 1+1= 2, simple as that. Boy meets Girl, they fall in love, end of story, but some stories are more elaborate. Like a web intricately spun by the fickle and rather quirky hands of fate. Allow me to elaborate before you develop frown lines on your immaculate foreheads for thinking too much.

How do I introduce this? Ah… Have you ever heard of the Tango? Of course you have, but do you know the story behind the dance? You see, the tango is a dance of the flesh. There are a lot of stylistic origins to the dance, but I like to give my own interpretation to it as a dance of great passion and love.You have two people pacing the dance floor emanating unbridled desire, wraped in a passionate embrace - eyes locked, dipping, stomping, touching, teasing… It is a dance of seduction, and in some ways, a dance of love. It is a romance story of sorts- about how the woman incites fire in a man, and how she is able to lure him, to compel him to posses her. The man is literally spellbound by the woman, and demonstrates his desire and power by how he holds her, showing her who has the control. The movements narrate their romance, the sheer emptiness of the release, then the pull of possession again. Both dancers and their movements demonstrate how love can be extremely intense, it is an illustration of the joining of two souls powered by an emotion that neither can control. It is seductive and quite dangerous. The occasional spectator of the dance would probably watch slack jawed in awed fascination…

They say it takes two to tango, correct? Well, how about we change up the rules… to make things a little interesting, a third dancer is thrown into the fray. Imagine what that would be like? Picture out the tango with three dancers, two men and one woman (or whatever). The woman, of course, is the object of the men’s desire, their love. Imagine two men clamoring to posses a woman whose mere presence burns their blood… She entices them, torments them, and they are left to battle it out on who gets to culminate the dance with her. Now, let us just say that the woman desires both men, but as mentioned, it takes only two people to tango… Only one man gets that chance, Isn’t that a rather tangled web?

Let’s say she has feelings for both, but she has to choose- which one then, the one she loves, or the one who loves her? They may both love her, but one may love her more, and she may love the both, but she may love one of them more…. Hurts your head right?

It calls to mind the saying “You can’t have your cake and eat it too”

Where am I getting at with all this? Patience, I’m getting there. Have you seen the following movies: Superman Returns, The Notebook, & Enchanted? If you have, good. Question: What do the three movies have in common?, here’s an even better question: What is the recurring theme of the three movies that was never brought up?

Answer: Unrequited love. James Marsden’s character getting screwed, always playing second fiddle to the other guy, always second best. James Marden’s character never gets the girl.

Confused? Allow me to ellucidate.

In Superman Returns, James Marsden plays Richard White. Richard is engaged to Lois Lane (take note: she was Supe’s love). Super Man gets all hurt about this, and assumes that Lois had moved on since his absence.

Cue scene:

Lois Lane: Richard's a good man... and you've been gone a long time.
Superman: I read the article, Lois.
Lois Lane: Yeah, so did a lot of people. Tomorrow night, they're giving me the Pulitzer...
Superman: Why did you write it?
Lois Lane: How could you leave us like that? I moved on. So did the rest of us. That's why I wrote it. The world doesn't need a savior. And neither do I.

Richard White: Were you in love with him?
Lois Lane: He's Superman. Everyone was in love with him.
Richard White: But were you?
Lois Lane: [pause] ... No.

Minus all the details, we all knew that Lois was soo not over Super Man, and yes, despite the rather bitter article that she wrote about the world not needing him (which is just a projection of her own hurt feelings and resentment for his abrupt departure), deep inside she was still very much in love with him (yes, she was in denial, thinking she was happy with Richard). She chose the man who loved her, but still craved the man that she loved….I think it’s appropriate to say, poor James Marsden.

In The Notebook, James Marsden plays Lon Hammon Jr. In this film he is also, uhemmm… engaged to Allie Hamilton(Rachel McAdam’s character). They meet after Allie’s meddling and deprecatory mother separates her from the love of her life, Noah Calhoun (Ryan Gosling’s character). Allie who suffered from a tremendous heartbreak thinking that Noah didn’t care about her anymore, allowed herself to move on.

Allie: When I'm with Noah I feel like one person and when I'm with you I feel like someone totally different.
Lon: Allie, it's normal not to forget your first love but I want you for myself. I don't want to convince my fiancée that she should be with me.
Allie: You don't have to. I already know I should be with you.

But then, a quirk of fate happens and she sees Noah again…

Allie: Why didn't you write me? Why? It wasn't over for me, I waited for you for seven years. But now it's too late.
Noah: I wrote you 365 letters. I wrote you everyday for a year.
Allie: You wrote me?
Noah: Yes... it wasn't over, it still isn't over

Surprise, surprise, well, we all knew what happened didn’t we? Allie ends up with Noah… Again, poor James Marsden.



Last. In Enchanted, James plays Prince Edward, a ditzy Prince who falls in love-at-first-sight with a quixotic girl named Giselle. They were supposed to get married a day after they claped eyes on each other, but his Step Mother, Queen Narissa, had to push Giselle into a well sending her to New York where she meets McDreamy…errr… Robert Philip, a misanthropic divorcee who in the long run ends up falling in love with our stary eyed damsel… Poor James Marsden, but to his character’s credit, he did get to marry someone else in the end, but the point is, he didn’t end up with the girl he originally wanted.




So what’s my point? Sometimes it hurts to be the odd one out, the one in love with the person who will never be able to reciprocate the sentiment fully. It hurts to watch them with the one that they love, it hurts to know that you weren’t the one that they chose. It hurts to fight for someone who never even gave an iota of thought of how it must feel to fight even when you know you’re not going to win.

Here’s the meat of it all…



I’m talking about the bittersweet tale of the Werewolf (Jacob Black) who fell in love with a girl (Isabella Swan) who is in love with a Vampire (Edward Cullen).

Note: if you have read the Twilight saga, feel free to carry on, but if you haven’t gotten around to cracking those books open, I suggest you don’t read any further- seriously, I will be spilling details that will spoil the tale. However, if you are curious enough to continue (I’m talking to the one’s who haven’t read the books), don’t say I didn’t warn you.
As I read the tale, my heart writhed with pain, bleeding for the Jacob who was obviously in love with Bella (uhemmm… I was in that same situation before, not fun).

Both men, Edward and Jacob, loved Bella, and she needed them both in her life, but the question was: Who did she love with all her heart? The man who loved her, or the man that she loved?

See, we’re back to the paradox, the thing is, the choice was hers….

If I were Bella who would I choose?

In one corner, you have Jacob Black. Sweet, with a sarcastic sense of humor, easy going - the charming rebel, who has the whole down-to-Earth appeal going for him. In the other corner, you have Edward Cullen, handsome, mysterious, intelligent- who screams Prince Charming / Knight in Shining Armor. In my opinion, he is every girl’s dream- unselfish, a proper gentleman, loving – a true protector.

"For almost ninety years I've walked among my kind, and yours... all the time thinking I was complete in myself, not realizing what I was seeking. And not finding anything because you weren't alive yet"

~Edward Cullen~

And did I fail to mention that he is extremely eloquent as well? Alright, it seems the odds are tipped in Edward’s favor for me, I’m a little biased I suppose, since he reminds me of a certain someone in my life who is in one way or another my very own Edward Cullen (lucky me). However, I do feel for Jacob…. I really do.

"He's like a drug for you Bella" Jacob Black said, "I see that you can't live without him now. It's too late. But I would have been healthier for you. Not a drug. I would have been the air, the sun..."

I was once in Jacob’s predicament before, and that’s what compelled me to discuss this. Unrequited love is perhaps the most excruciating thing to experience in the world.

I ached for Jacob, the boy who nursed Bella through her dark moments when the love of her life (Edward) broke her heart by leaving her. Jacob, the boy who made her smile, who breathed life back into her when it seemed like the pain of the heartbreak was going to leave her in a catatonic state. The same boy who helplessly stood back as Edward returned, who bore weeks of separation from her in silence, knowing very well that she spent them with Edward, the boy she loved.

I screamed in frustration as Jacob told Bella how much he loved her, as he explained that although he knew that she was in love with Edward, he also knew that she wanted him in her life as well. I felt his pain as he told her he needed to say the words out loud so there wouldn’t be a lost chance, just in case things ever changed between her and Edward, she would know that he was waiting for her- that he loved her. I gritted my teeth as he declared that he was going to fight for her, even if it was a lost cause. You see, Jacob Black is Bella’s best friend. She tells him everything, and in turn he does the same. When Edward left, Jacob was the one who made Bella happy, and in those moments that he spent with her, when she was in pain; haunted by memories of Edward, Jacob felt the innate sense to protect her, to care for her, and well, to love her. Bella knew all too well that Jacob had feelings for her, and subtly made it known to him that she will never feel the same. Jacob accepted that fact good naturedly knowing it was better being her best friend. He was smart enough to accept that it was better to have that role in her life than nothing at all, but still, he held on to the hope that she might choose him….



Watching her with Edward didn’t make it easier, hearing her tell him for the billionth time that she loved him, but she was in love with Edward did not lessen the blow. The moments he had with Bella were never enough, they were ephemeral, stolen, it never belonged to him, she didn’t belong to him- You can’t lose what you never had. You see, Jacob’s fate bears a perverse similarity to the characters that James Marden plays, he may get the girl for a while, but he is never truly mean to end up with her…

You're so beautiful
And when I'm near you i can't breathe

A girl like you gets what she wants
When she wants it
You're so out of my league
I show you no emotion
Don't let you see what you're doin' to me
I Imagine the two of us together
But I've been livin' in reality

Fear of rejection, kept my love inside
But time is running out
So damn my foolish pride!

I don't care if you think i'm crazy
It doesn't matter if it turns out bad
I've got no fear of losin' you

Now i'm gonna confess that i love you
I've been keepin' it inside feelin' i could die
Now if you turn away that's O.K.
At least we'll have a moment
Before you say goodbye
You can't lose what you never had

Rules Are made for breakin'
Nothing' ventured nothin' gained
I'll be no worse off than i am right now
And i might never get the chance again

Fear of rejection, kept my love inside
Told my heart I didn't want you but i lied…

It only takes two to tango, sadly, the odd man, or woman out of the lover’s dance must watch in the sidelines, with the pain of unrequited love, and the sting of rejection coursing through their veins. I suppose that’s the risk with have to take in the game of love, we go into it uncertain if the odds are in our favor. We place bets, never knowing if we will end up lucky. We give all we have, not knowing that we will lose it all, or gain more than our wager’s worth… In the game of love, there are winners, the one’s who win the prize of the person whom they will love with all their heart, who will also love them in return. Tragically, there are also the losers, who give everything they’ve got, who risk everything, only to end up with nothing, or worse, they watch somebody else take home the prize…

Sometimes

Sometimes we meet people in this world who surprise us, people who walk into our lives unbidden by our hearts, but somehow in some strange crazy way, they end up being that “someone” that we have waited for all our lives. It's that someone who walks into a room during one dreary day in your life and by some miracle, they bring a surge of wonder and warmth to it, transforming your day. It's that someone whose voice you long to hear, even for an ephemeral moment, just to hear the sound that has the amazing power to speed up you heartbeat and take away your sorrows. It's that someone whose laugh soothes your soul, whose touch warms you to the core. It's that someone who you never thought existed until the day he/she came into your life. In that person's absence your world is incomplete, you find yourself desperately seeking even the tiniest sign of him/her. In their absence the colors fade away from your world, and somehow you know that a part of you will forever be joined to them, and you will never be whole again until they return. Sometimes we meet people in this world who are uniquely too magnificent to be real, a person who symbolizes that one gem in a box of semi precious stones, he/she out-sparkles the rest and somehow you know that having them in your life is like finding a chest filled with treasure. Sometimes we meet people in this world who perversely arrive at the wrong time, whose love we crave, but cannot posses. Sometimes we meet people in this world who forever change who we are with just one touch, one glance, one smile, one word, one kiss, & nothing will ever be the same again. Sometimes we meet people in this world who make us do the craziest things that we would not normally do otherwise. Sometimes we never really admit to ourselves as to why they have so much power over us, which leads us to- Sometimes in this world we fall head over heels, crazy in love with someone who we never meant to love at all, but then, Sometimes, we don't allow ourselves to love at all, to say it out loud, and Sometimes we lose the chance to love them altogether- Because in this world we only have one chance at finding real love. We only have one chance at finding an amazing person who we honestly can't live without, and in this world filled with so many people...Sometimes we spend so much time looking every where and fail to notice that the person we are looking for has been right by our side all that time.