At Happy Lemon Promenade – See on Path.
#teamBurnUnit – View on Path.
#PostDutyLunch (at Papa John’s)
We are consistently more busy then we have been. The “budgeted” census has been blown to hell. With our 600 bed capacity, we have around 800+ patients admitted. That’s just a WOW.
For a long time now, our local EMS, the MMDA’s, and other rescuers have been bringing at least 3 or 5 patients at a…
its early to be sleeping. It’s still early but I could tell that there is something going on in the air. Time hasn’t erased that familiar pain in my chest.
I am blogging again for the need of it. I know I’ve been selfish for shutting you out of my world. I am utterly selfish but I am happy. My happiness is not for other people’s consumption. Happiness isn’t always a familiar feeling to me so when it comes, I guard it carefully and hold it closely to my chest so no one can steal it. It has become a part of my being in the past months.
I couldn’t bear it when there are real tears. I held them for as long as I could until my nose got hurt. I guess I’ve set my defenses so low that I could feel it building behind my eyes. Today I couldn’t stop them from streaming down my face. I couldn’t help but wish for something or someone to save me. But even Messiahs lie.
Now I can only hear a mantra that says…
Tired children cry…
Anyway, I have been single now for almost two years and as I was looking through my dating life, dating suddenly is now a curious thing. I’ve been on enough dates to know that no matter how good someone’s intentions were, the result is usually a gamble of expectations.
Most of my friends seem to equate dating with some sort of mating ritual. If your main objective is to get laid – it really isn’t that hard, but I guess what I’m trying to say is that sure I miss the physical contact and intimacy. I even can’t remember the last time I had sex. Sober. I like my sex drive. I loathe my sex drive. I love my standards. I loathe my standards. I really do wish I could be a whore; no strings, no attachments, but I’m not that kind of guy.
Nevertheless, I’m trying to be okay with the fact that I’m 26 and still waiting for its arrival. I’ve been fortunate to have love in the past; then came a period where I just wasn’t having it, yet it was the right decision for the time.
Now, I’m finding myself at a place where I want the stability of a long-term relationship. I’m past debating. Past waiting. Past feeling myself up. Yet, I’m a picky bastard.
It’s been a long time and I’ve finally got a lot of chances to just sit down and write something finally worth reading. For one thing that I can say for sure, communicating through written composition is a perishable skill. The less time you spend getting your ideas down on paper, the harder it becomes in the near distant future to keep up with the same level of quality you’ve had the entire time. Keeping that in mind, I recommend always keeping your own personal communication skills sharpened like a knife.
Your mind is your most dangerous weapon.
I hope that in the near future, people will begin to realize that the best place to spend one’s resources is on improving themselves. The self is the most prized possession that you own. You are going to be with yourself every minute of every day for your entire life. At the end of every night when you are going to bed, you will always be alone with yourself regardless of your relationship status. You must do everything humanely possible to reach your maximum potential and lead a life worth knowing and learning about.
I’m not sure that most people will have little to no interest about reading, but they are always more than willing to actively listen to one’s life story.
Make your life something worth being remembered.