Je Ne Sais Pas...

I don't know? Requiem for my dream. That's as honest as I can be. I don't know. I would be remissed if I did not tell you what I don't know. Women. I have no idea how to respond to you. Not in the sense that I don't know how to speak to you, but once it's reached that awkward "in between" where we're not really friends but we're not dating phase. And then, as many things tend to do, when everything collapses on itself and then I'm left with nothing. Something happened earlier that annoyed the heck out of me, but it's my own fault because, again, I don't know how to respond to you. The dominance and independence in me says that I should let it go, but the romantic side of me says that I've experienced, yet again, a love lost. What I'm not saying is that I was in love, but I was susceptible to it. I hate that feeling (actually, I try my best to steer clear of it) because it leaves me, more often than not, staring up at the ceiling at 3a.m. wondering why I put myself into the predicaments that I do. I'm a hopeless romantic. That might seem strange coming from a male but I don't care, it's just me. The funny thing about that is that I try to so hard to suppress those feelings because I know what they lead to. Case in point, I'm writing this blog. I'm awkward, point blank period. There's no way around it. When I'm around someone I have feelings for (until things settle in a bit) I often become shy, dry-mouthed, and at a lost for words, sometimes. This also happens when I'm in a situation where there is no understood...anything. It's hard when you start off with someone not as friends, but as "talking" because when stuff hits the fan everything usually goes downhill because you were never anything to begin with. I'm actually an alpha male who is confident (often times to the point of arrogance, I'll admit it. But humble nonetheless) about myself and what I want out of life. That does not mean that I'm immune from love and the sour taste it often leaves in the mouth of those that taste it's ever abundant fruit. Antonio you are a basket case. As people we often say "I'm independent, I don't need anyone," but this is a visage (not visade as usually pronounced) that we use in order to hide our true feelings. A mask if you will. I wear the same mask. But my situation as a filmmaker helps me to wear this mask. Being with someone makes you obligated to places. I don't want to be held back. Because of this, I'm able to distance myself from people because I know what consequences befall those that fall into that trap. See how I rationalize my actions. This is one of those things that I might never get a grip on, but who cares, right? Does it matter that you don't fall in love if people know your name? Is being alone a necessary sacrifice for greatness? Is the love of another, a true intimate love, a necessity to live a full life? Je ne sais pas...

This is just my release. Writing is how I deal with those feelings. This is my suppression. By writing about it I'm able to overtake those feelings and begin anew the journey of love (although, in reality, I don't really think that I want to be in love, I just want a woman to talk to). Let me take the time out to apologize to every woman that I've ever done wrong to. I'm truly sorry. I'm not saying that I won't mess up in the future, but for the time being, it is with a clear conscious that I say that I am truly sorry, I know I've made my mistakes and I accept that. I love you all. Each and every one of you have taught me something and have helped mold me into who I am becoming. I wish you all the best life has to offer.

Don't strive to live in the moment, strive to live in history,

Antonio