Mon Amor

"Build character. Women want a man who has money, strength, and confidence."
-Cynthia

"The person you are now will be completely different from the person you will become ten years from now."
-Brandon

One of my friends told me that the older we get, the faster time goes by. Brandon told me that the person I am now will be very different from the person I will become in ten years. His statement is not farfetched because in retrospect, I was a juvenile delinquent in high school. I was an arrogant, know-it-all, socially-sucking-up brat. I'm actually still arrogant (on the outside), pretentious, and obsequious. I would have smacked my high school personality right in the face. I pretend to know everything in life when I haven't experienced anything in life. I remember when I was referred to as a baby, as a child, young, naïve, with many years to go. "A long road ahead of me," they say.

How do I continue this blog entry? I haven't written in my blog for over seven months. I reflect on my New Year's resolutions and realized that I have forgotten all about them! The person I was is somewhat different to the person I am right this moment. But let's face it: we are all capricious people making arbitrary decisions, led by our noses, sniffing out hedonistic pleasures to keep us buzzed and away from facing reality. Last I checked, Eventbrite and Meetup listed nearly two dozen events such as parties and random networking events each and every week! There's always something to do in NYC, Terresa evidenced on her Facebook page with a zillion links to offers on LivingSocial and other lifestyle sites that blow my mind out of boredom. Talk about encouraging ADHD.

I returned from Times Square nearly three hours ago. I had to quell my urge to wander the streets of New York in search of something familiar and revitalizing. Last night my two feet impulsively carried me to Battery Park where Stephanie took me to her favorite place around Winter Garden where she received her first kiss. I also sat in the place near the dog park where we kissed in the dark one night. I relived those memories by taking a walk in Tribeca. I usually have tendencies to escape from my apartment and show off my existence to others around me. The founding father of existentialism, Soren Kierkegaard, did just this; he would loiter the courtyard just so he could be seen by others. That is why I dress up in a blazer and expensive shoes just to walk the streets. I don't have anywhere to go, but I pretend I'm in a hurry to somewhere meaningful. I pretend I am prestigious and eloquent, a regal prince in white man's clothing. I want to make a statement, so I buy nice clothes and affect an expensive air whenever I walk by women. But this is rarely achieved. My father likes to think that every time I walk by a woman, she would sneer at me and curse me as "little man." My Dad projects his low esteem on me and castigated me for being short. He believes that women hate "ai dai" (short son) and that I will never find a woman by dating around. He believes that if I work hard, "dui gyen wooey yew gnan joong yee nay"...someone will eventually pick me. I'm not a Pokémon, Dad.

I used to despise Times Square because of its busy intersections, bustling sidewalks, and distasteful tourists. But tonight was my third time going there for fun, and I love the invigorating atmosphere. There's something rejuvenating about the epicenter that makes me fall in love with New York City all over again. I dodge cynicism and greet multicultural people left and right. Their smiles and bewilderment at the bright lights fascinate me. The families awe me and make me smile. Their faces frozen in photographic happiness make me brim with happiness and walk with energy instead of keeping my head down. I learn to shut off my CD player and walk the streets of Times Square diligently and aware of my surroundings. I begin to fall in love with haphazard preachers, drummers, Naked cowboys, cowgirls, and other Disney characters soliciting pictures. Seldom I would test my luck with women, but they are usually surrounded by their family, so I cannot intrude or make a move. Times Square is now my second home, eventually replacing Union Square. But who am I kidding? Union Square is still a place of liberal people who are proclaimed artists and individuals that stray from the herd. I met some of the most amazing and talented people there and befriended them, including Jamie and Hien. Union Square continues to provide me with steps to sit on and people-watch. It also provides me with photographic opportunities, now that I have perfected my ability to ask strangers to pose for me, randomly and inadvertently.

I don't associate myself with words like stalker, creep, but then again, stalkers and creepers do not identify themselves as stalkers or creepers. It's similar with racists who diffuse the issue by prefacing their allegations with "I'm not racist, I'm just" blah blah blah. You see, I like to seek out Asian women and trail them onto the subway car and sit across from them or next to them. I seek their attention. You can say that I seek attention. I make it a mission to solicit their attention. Once they lay eyes on me I feel Godly, I feel masculine, I feel noticed. This high then allows me to feel dignified. Sometimes I would listen to sad music and sit across from an Asian chick and desire her attention. I want her to look at me and notice my sadness. I want her to respond to my sadness with curiosity, perhaps also with intrigue and mystery. This sense of cryptic romance is something to behold, in my mind, that is. All of this exists in my mind and this is the major problem. The woman probably doesn't pay me any attention because it is New York City and people normally consider everything that happen on the subway as blasé. But if she does pay me mind, I want her to be my princess in shining armor. The tables turn, you can say: I want her to be my knight and ameliorate my sadness by beholding me, noticing me. How often do I look at women without their noticing, but I do not like it when women look at me first. This reaction may be an alleged example of double standard in terms of the privilege to look at women. Men feel they can ogle at women without their knowing because it is pleasurable, but once women look at them, they feel like they have less power because they are choosing them, not the other way around. When men don't get to choose, they are frightened by their loss of power. The subtle power dynamics usually make or break the situation.

As I finish this blog entry I wonder just how close Jessica and I are now that she has added me again and put all our differences behind us. I am glad she has rekindled because our friendship really would be awry if we didn't reconnect. Besides, friends' egos are no more important than the friendship, so why hold a grudge or feel enmity toward anyone? Hugh Prather, author of my favorite advice book, Notes on Love and Courage, said that "Friends eventually forgive and come back together because people need people more than they need pride." As for Jessica Chen, I feel abandoned because she has not come through to meet me for lunch. It feels like she has lackadaisically casted me off as less than a friend, as a non-important person who used to treat her to lunches with my earned money. Perhaps she is used to being pampered and she likes the attention of being treated by her friends. But when I ask her to return the favor and treat me to lunch, which she did once, she curls into a ball of irritation and shelves our friendship. Maybe she's just really busy. I know that I pushed Joe aside even after he has pleaded me to hang out. In fact, I have not paid any mind to his employment search, and I give him excuses that I am too busy looking for work or meeting my other friends that we no longer hang out anymore. I no longer make the one and half -long journey to Brooklyn to see my homeboy. I feel like distance is an excuse to distance myself from him. I feel slightly guilty, but not guilty enough to change my behavior. This is why I asked Stephanie if I am sociopathic. I feel like I treat my friends like crap after they have treated me with nothing but respect. Perhaps when friends get too close to me, I feel like my independence has been treaded upon, so in return, I get turned off and keep them at bay because I don't want them to take up my important time. Am I rationing my love with my friends the way a traveler stuck on a desert rations his water supply?

Speaking of friends, Angie has rekindled with me because of drama. Our drama with blind dates and dating websites simply ignite a passion for conversations concerning awful men and annoying women. We continue to search inside of ourselves for our energy to move ahead and tolerate the annoying people in life. I believe in serendipity. I believe that people are meant to come together for a particular purpose. There is never no purpose of anything, but then again, purpose is put into something the same way a person sees a problem when there is no problem.