3rd breakdown

 I can't even write. 

But I am back here 'cause all I have is a weeping prayer and my anonymity. 

I feel alone. So alone. 

I feel like what I am releasing is the last one. 

I am at my ugliest. My fattest. My impostor syndrome is acting up — I feel like I am faking everything, even my talent. 

It gets tiring. 

This is 2nd breakdown of the night. 

Finally I am not crying much about money but as I have said in my conversation with God a few minutes ago: give me the power to inspire. I am so insecure I am giving out negative energy. I am always on the defense and I hate that. 

I am now in the position to inspire.

Help me Lord. 

I want to die with dignity. I want my children to hear stories of me being the good guy for once. 

I am tired. I am dying. 

I fake it so well, but my spirit is dead. 

I wish I have somebody to just comfort me. It has been a while since I had someone who'll cry with me and understand this burden. 

Now the 3rd.

3 days to 43

 So here it comes again. 

Writing about the blues.

The impostor syndrome of being a songwriter. 

The feeling of losing a family. 

The feeling of failing as a father. 

I should be thankful.

I am now part of the music industry, but in a different level or position.

Dylan is here so I am given a chance to be the fun parent. 

Lord, help me see the light.

Help me find purpose. 

Help me find someone to convince me I deserve to be loved.

Xxx

 Writing direct over here. I rarely do this. 

Need to unplug my mind and let it leak all over this page. 

I am weeping hard with no reason. 

Guess i am tired of it all.

I should be happy. 

I just wrote a song. I submitted an edited manuscript. I still have 2 thousand in my account. Salary from the raket is coming in soon. Had a phonecall with dylan where ai was teasing her of possible accomodation finds for her OJT.

Aside from my 3 males cats squabbling a few mins ago, everything is still. Everything is quiet. 

That must be it. No purpose. Just waiting forthe weekend so I can play music and get drunk. 

I feel so unloved and alone. 

Wish I Was Dead

 Fatherhood is hard.

I tried so hard to be the best I can be, but I guess the best can't rival the always present. 

Sometimes I wonder what Art really feels about me. What will she say when I die? I realized she is getting the bad end of daddy issues, and it is surprising to me as she was considered my favorite by others. At some point, she really was. She was naturally clingy and sweet. Now even a song I wrote about her did not get any love after I let her hear it. I feel like I am always chasing an elusive love, and it crushes my soul.

She always held my father-in-law in high regard and though he was a good and loving man (I deeply respect him), Art didn't really get to live with him until his last days. And yet, she hurts for him and give him the most loving tributes. 

That's what became of me — wishing to be dead just to get the same adoration. :(

Missing Art

 Just got in my transient room 15 minutes ago. Was with my kids in this tribute gig for The Strokes and Arctic Monkeys. 

Music. That is what will make young. That is one connection I still have with my kids. Their mom may be a painter and now more popular, but I hope they know that the restless spirit to express comes from me. I hope they realize that. I hope they are thankful.

I feel Art getting farther from me. 

But I am taming my reactions as it may be just an aftershock of puberty. I just miss her clinginess.

Her little body trying to guard the gate so I won't leave for Manila.

Her choosing to join me in hotel accomodations to sleep beside me during getaways and gigs. 

Her not wanting to put my forgotten shirt in the laundry bin because she misses and loves my scent. 

Now I feel like I am trying hard to earn a spot on her life. 

I just hope she can see the value I place in fatherhood. 

I know I am away. I know I am far. Just want to feel that my kids can feel proud of what I offer as a person and as a father. 

I hope. 

On a Bus to Manila

 I notice I am still afraid to be alone with my thoughts. 

Now that I am in a bus, I feel vulnerable. Nowhere to go. 

Numbing my fear with stand-up specials. What if my CP's battery gets drained? 

I feel like crying. 

That narcissist really did a number on me.

 Worst part is I let her. I know I have nothing to gain. Can't really be free. Still alone. Can't even brag about her or I'll look like a fool. Nowhere to go. Yet I stayed, just in hope that we will recapture the spark. Damn you Gracel for wasting my years and messing with my head.

I feel like I grew older by like 10 years instead of 3. And though I have the confidence, I admit fearing that I will never be happy with someone for the rest of my life. 

Sob Fest 2024

 I watch Jesus movies and open the bible app to trigger a sob fest. I do need it when I feel like I am so lonely, I have no direction, and I feel like exploding. At least I can rely on faith that someone up there is taking care of me.

Care. I need that.

The alternative would be talking to my kids, but that has a running time of one hour 'til I become a blabbermouth without anything exciting to say. 

I miss what I had with Mary. 

The comfort. The solitude. 

The boringness of having a plan to stay indoors. 

To be with someone I can be comfortable with, even showing my imperfections without the worry of being condemned.

I miss being loved wholeheartedly. 

I miss being someone worthy to be loved.

Because of this emptiness, I am always secondguessing my identity and legacy. 

It has been 4 years and I have not regain my confidence back in who I am and what I offer in my music.

I wish I can be better.

I am tired of being a patient.