While in the arms of slumber... gonna leave it all behind.

In relation to my last post, that three to four year sabbatical were some of the best of my life. When it came to an abrupt end, I lost it. I was devastated, I was hurt, I was (insert adjective here).

It even came to the point when I tried to physically hurt someone.. and it wasn't just anyone. It was someone I can comfortably call a friend, and I tried to physically hurt him. I guess I have him to thank, he could've easily broken my jaw that night, but instead, he subdued me, told me to calm the fuck down.

As to why I did it? I don't think I'll ever know. I was jus so fucking pissed at anything and everything that night. I jus wanted to hit something... something that felt it.

Dreams. What are they? As a student of the mind myself, I've never really been able to figure it out. Not even the 'greatest' psychoanalyst of our time was able to, and God knows he tried.

I've had two dreams that've recently stood out in my mind in recent times.

The first occurred about a month and a half ago. I still vividly remember it, partly because the setting of that dream was in my very own home - the place where you think, you feel you'd be safest.

Someone... 'close' came to came in that dream. i don't remember any of the other stuff we talked of, but she asked to get back together with me. I said no. Why? Because I was seeing someone else at that time, and it was true. She then asked - 'So you'd rather go after someone who doesn't even know the way she feels about you, than be with someone who for sure will be with you, and knows how they feel about you?'

I woke up with cold sweat that morning. I'm not the type of person who perspires when they sleep. In fact, I can't remember the last time I woke up in cold sweat from a dream, and I've had my fair share of bad dreams.

The second dream that stood out, for me, just happened several nights ago. First, let me start by narrating the characters - there was myself, of course, person A, person C, and person B, who as I remember, was named Miya, or Maya... I'm inclined to think it was Miya. I remembered that. She did not look like anyone I know or have met, and I credit myself with having a pretty good memory.

As for the setting, it actually spanned across several - Boracay beach, inside a van/bus, and at the BTC parking lot playing rugby with an orange and black Nerf football. Yeah. Go figure.

'Miya' always tried to set me up with person C. I don't even remember what person C looked like. I jus know that in that dream, both me and person C had no interest in each other. It was Miya herself who kept saying stuff like he's a really good guy and all that - So yeah, it was Miya who was interested in me. But I saw her as the friend. In that dream, I was interested in person A. As for person A, I don't remember what she looked like, either - I jus know that I know her. Long wavy dark hair, light skin color (almost pale), and for some reason, ample sized breasts. Person A wouldn't give me the light of day. However, whenever she'd see that Miya and me would be hitting it off, she's immediately get in the way of it. While we were in that van/bus, Miya sat in front of me, and I was beside person A. Miya and I were really hitting it off, talking about God knows what. When person A saw that Miya and I were starting to get a bit too comfortable with each other, she would purposefully get physical with me, jus to see the hurt on Miya's face - and she would derive a sick, twisted pleasure out of it. The sad part is, I didn't even seem to mind. I remember that when I'd finally decided to go look for Miya, I could no longer find her.

One of the of the more interesting parts of this whole sequence was Miya's appearance. I know that I've never seen her before, and yet, if I saw her face in a crowd, I think I'd be able to spot her. She was short, had a healthy tan, shoulder length hair, a hint of Oriental ancestry in her, and a certain charm to her.. Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to go on some wild goose chase to look for the 'girl of my dreams.'

What does this all mean? I don't know. Frankly, I don't think I should care, either. But I'd by lying if I said I didn't think about it a couple of times.

Comfort of my dream, I resign myself to you.

'Cuz tomorrow's jus another day, and I don't believe in time.

The eagle has landed. Again.

It was only because of my last post that I realized how long it's been since I last wrote anything here... Approximately three to four years. Yes - years.

It even came to the point when someone very close to me asked as to why I haven't written in that long, when a lot of things've happened then.

It was only last night that I was able to finally realize the answer to that.

I was happy.

You're packing a suitcase for a place none of us has been.

So yeah, it's been way too long since I've actually written here. To be honest, there's been several things I've been wanting to write about - my new found love for the world's most beautiful game, Newcastle United getting relegated, the former president, the new president, the disappearance of true rock... among others.

But in relation to that last statement, I've been tripping out on one particular song, from one of the world's greatest musicians of all time. Funnily enough, I never really paid that much attention the first time I heard the song. Sure, it had a great beat and everything - but I never really paid attention to the message before... Well, before I decided to take a fifty minute stroll around midtown. At one in the morning.

For the longest time, I never knew what he meant by 'Love is not the easy thing. The only baggage that you can bring is all that you can't leave behind.'

First, notice how it's love is not THE easy thing, and not love is an easy thing? But yeah, after another past-midnight stroll (this time in the comfort and safety of my own subdivision), I believe I was finally able to decode it. Well, meaning is subjective, but here's my two cents of it.

All relationships are terminal. Even marriage. Even though divorce isn't legal in most Eastern nations, it's still 'til death do us part, right? We all die.

But on a less morbid note - 'the only baggage you can bring is all that you can't leave behind.' All relationships are terminal, and sometimes by our choice. At the same time, though, every relationship every individual goes through 'molds' that individual. At least that's my interpretation of it. When someone says that they've 'completely' moved on from their past relationship - have they really? That's what I mean when someone is molded through every relationship they go through. I actually don't believe in the concept of tabula rasa, but I'm a firm believer in social nurture. Who we are is formed by everything around us. And yes, every relationship we go through forms our identity. That's what I think anyway. But isn't it a choice?

That's another thing I believe in - everything is a choice. Now, I understand this may actually contradict my earlier statement about social nurture. Then again, who we are is also our choice. If we wanted to hang out with a bunch of gangstas and drug addicts, sure, we could - and become one in the process.

Frankly, I think I've lost my key point. But yeah, in love, there are things we can't leave behind - how much, that's our choice.

All that we fashion, all that we make... All that we build, and all that we break. All that we measure, and all that we feel, and all that we can't leave behind.

Be strong. Walk on.