I often read blog posts by women who talk about how they just can't seem to find the right man .... He should be like this, and like that, and what have you.

Dee made the same mistake. The fact that she has the looks of a fashion model (and presumably the brains to go with it) somehow led her to believe she'd have little trouble finding Mr. Right. But her experiences have taught her otherwise ... Mr. Right has turned out to be even more elusive than good ol' Osama!

She once asked me: "why aren't there any guys like you out there?"
And I said to her: If I were just some stranger you happened to meet at a party, would you fall in love with me?

She just smiled ... she got my meaning.

True love isn't about finding the perfect person; it's about finding perfection in an imperfect person.

Your prefect man, your prince charming ... he exists only in your head. And even if he does happen to be out there somewhere just waiting to be found (it is highly unlikely that he is waiting to find you), locating him will be like looking for a needle in a haystack. And you know what is the easiest way to find a needle in a haystack? -- Setting the hay on fire and then sifting through the ashes.

If you succeed, good for you. But what if you discover that there never was any needle there in the first place? .... I'd say you could do a lot more with the hay than with the ashes.

You ask me how I became a madman. It happened thus: One day, long before many gods were born, I woke from a deep sleep and found all my masks were stolen, -- the seven masks I have fashioned and worn in seven lives, -- I ran maskless through the crowded streets shouting, "Thieves, thieves, the cursed thieves."

Men and women laughed at me and some ran to their houses in fear of me.

And when I reached the market place, a youth standing on a house-top cried, "He is a madman." I looked up to behold him; the sun kissed my own naked face for the first time. For the first time the sun kissed my own naked face and my soul was inflamed with love for the sun, and I wanted my masks no more. And as if in a trance I cried, "Blessed, blessed are the thieves who stole my masks."

Thus I became a madman.

And I have found both freedom of loneliness and the safety from being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in us.

But let me not be too proud of my safety. Even a thief in a jail is safe from another thief.

From: The Madman by Kahlil Gibran

I've been going to gym regularly for the past couple of weeks. I feel strong again. I find my mind works better when I'm in good physical shape; I don't worry about things as much ... and that's because there is this sense of power, which somehow makes me believe that I can handle anything the world throws at me. It feels good to be in control .... even if the feeling is only an illusion.

The guy who was living in the ground-floor flat of our building died late Sunday night. I came to know only today. He lived alone .... and died alone - massive heart attack. He used to leave his door open sometimes .... I could see the place was filthy. He was just 32.

He looked like someone who had given up on life. Unemployed, and with nothing else to do, he would spend his time tending to the plants in the yard behind. I was filled with a terrible feeling of regret when I got the news this morning. For the past month or so, I had been meaning to go down and say hello to him.

I guess he went quietly; without a fight.

***

When we were kids, most of our time was spent getting into fights and destroying whatever took our fancy. If I tell you of some of the things we did, you'd be horrified (and if you're an animal lover, you might want to kill me). Truth is, every damn thing we did had that destructive element to it; nobody ever cared to listen to our problems and show us another way. Fight your own battles was always the answer we got.

But there comes a time when you get tired of fighting .... when you will find yourself turning the other cheek. But you know what: there's nothing like knowing you could return a knock-out punch if the need arose.

Peace, love, and another round with the devil.

Just got back from the library. As always I found myself sitting on those big stone steps and looking at the road in front, where the flow of people and traffic never ceases. Vivian, my buddy, was happy to see me. "I miss your company these days," he says. Yeah, I'll start coming here more often, I said.

I look at the people ... old, young, beautiful, ugly, fat, thin; I pick up words from their chatter ... some appear wise, others not so. I see a big group of college girls - so full of life ... all wearing those hipsters and short tops which leave that little wobble of flesh exposed around the waist ... what a drab world it would be without them.

And then I realised something: when I look at all these people passing by, I tend to get this feeling that I am one up on them ...know what I mean? I feel I am wiser and actually know something they don't; and in a way it gives me an odd sense of satisfaction. Now why is that ... can anybody tell me? Because I haven't a clue ... and I sure as hell don't have any real reason to feel that way. But yet I do.

... funny how the mind works, no?

As for Dee, I hope she can pick up the pieces and start over. It won't be easy but she doesn't really have a choice.

.... well, she can choose not to and go mad in the process. Like me.

I am bludy mad, you know ... mad mad mad!

Peace, love, and regular doses of sanity.

Just saw some horrific pictures on CNN of scenes of destruction in Beirut. If the target was just one man (the former PM), then why did whoever was responsible feel the need to blow up an entire block and kill all those innocent people in the process? Like so many other things in our world today, it just doesn't make sense.

In Iraq, the Shia's are reported to have got a majority in the recently concluded elections - I imagine Bush & Co. must be most perturbed. So what will he do now - occupy the entire Arab world? I bet he'd love to.

It wouldn't surprise one bit if the Middle East ends up being the cause of Americas eventual downfall (I won't use the word destruction just yet). Giants have been brought down in the past, and there's no saying it won't happen again.

As for the innocents who have to bear the brunt, they can only hope tomorrow will be better than today - that is, if there is indeed a tomorrow for them. It isn't the survival of the fittest any more - its the survival of the luckiest.

You know it's funny - here we fill our heads with worry thinking about the myriad problems we have in our lives, and out there you have so many millions of people who would be happy just to be alive 24 hours from now ..... makes you want to count your blessings, doesn't it?

Peace, love, and a wider field of vision.