Some Revelations and Singing Are for Wussies

Button mushrooms sauted in garlic and a little butter. Tasteless. That sums up my dinner.

I fight my fear with the usual. Songs. I sing my fear off and I always win. It might not be the greatest auditory scenario, but it works, and it might just be the key to its success. Fear fears noise I guess. Don't imagine.

I usually go to Youtube and search for a specific song title I'd been wanting to sing or humming the tune the whole day and add the word "karaoke", press enter. Dangit, you can't tweak the melody. As if there'd be a difference. Sing my ass off, over and over...and over and over again until I get it right (or my own concept of rightness) or til my vocal chords are too tired or til I feel sleepy (yes it happens). I'd forget my problems. I sound like I'm in remission. Stop. Change topic.

I love my partner. A lot had happened and although we were proud of what we've gone through, we try to be private about it because you just can't explain how you feel. We can tell the story over and over again, but the true essence of the whole thing wouldn't be a tinge of what we just explained. It is a hundred overcast days more, a multitude of rainbows brighter, a dozen hot chocolate mugs cozier and a little more than a bucket full of tears. I'm sure there are a number of people waiting for this ship to go down, and a little bit more wishing it would be anytime soon. And I can't be sure of anything. No one can. Except the assurance that will come from deep in the depths of the soul of a person who knew how bad it felt to lose the love of his life, to wake up each day with fear that another person would take your place, to let himself drift off the path for the world to come in and regret ever doing so, to see his love shine brighter than ever in the absence of another, to find that another chance again. No one, except that.

I'm sure there are still mountains to climb, cliffs to jump, bullets to dodge, and a hundred more indecent proposals or international chocolate's conventions going on in that mailbox. And I'm sure as hell would be guarding this ship. I'd be Luke Skywalking through it and Darth Vadering those heads. I've been always ready for this. I'm built to do this. Channeling Donnie Yen in S.P.L. (without the ending).

Suddenly singing are for wussies. I need to get into training for MMA.