Lyssa on a Pedestal and a Train Ride Home (Part 3)

Thoughts on Lyssa

Unsure as to whether this would be a right place or a right time to hold up an argument of my beliefs, I have some scorn to speak of Lyssa, if that scorn must you call. I have two little irks that have been held in notation for quite some time now and I gather there would be no time like the present to reveal these stale bread thoughts. Life is a touch and go of crisis and content.

Where I have been through my crisis time and time again which would transcend the illustrious midlife crisis, I believe that in some small portion of a way, Lyssa is having her crisis sporadically during these days. Our highs and lows are depicted by each others lives and at one stage, I was affected more than her. For example, when Lyssa was having the best time of her life, heading out to clubs and getting onto people some months ago, I weighed it against my having no job and practically nothing but these pages, realizing that placed against her life, mine was left for the dogs.

This made me more miserable but somehow, I got out of that hole, mostly with this job. Then there were the days during my having a job where I felt down and depressed again, having all these wonderful things happening to me but feeling as if it was all transparent to real happiness. Just like my desires to make myself into someone I wasn’t by buying club clothes and trying to live the crazy life, the real me was within, not judged by the threads I wore or what I’d done on the weekend.

More recently, Lyssa has gone through a stage where she has felt the same emptiness I’ve described below. Lyssa had everything, great weekends, getting onto people and drunken action but when it came to my explaining how I had a laid back when, somehow Lyssa got depressed about her life. This turn that emotionally affected Lyssa came because she stacked herself up against my life. Feeling that sting of insecurity, Lyssa felt the need to head over my house more often and invite herself over, hoping that I would just swoop her up into an orgy of sex.

However, with all this commotion in everyone else’s life that has taken place, I feel that Lyssa is much too busy to worry about her insecurities and that is the reason why we’ve been spaced from each other for a little while. In these last few months, we’ve gone from hating each other and my loathing that phone ringing knowing that it would be Lyssa to her calling me every couple of days and including herself ever so more in my lively events.

Lyssa in an Argument

Getting now to the nefarious applications of my incense, my picky woes and truths of Lyssa as per the present now. As per an argument Lyssa and I sustained not so long ago, I recall a couple of notes either forgotten or pushed aside until further notice. From these, I resolved my thoughts that Lyssa loves to become the bitch who loves herself when best she argues. In arguments, Lyssa holds no compassion and as she is always out to win with her naïve assessments, she yields only tormenting torture so she can protect her own insecurities.

For example, that day where Lyssa brought up the topic of sex and my having the thought of screwing Lyssa in my mind, she decided to get defensive when I denied it was my thoughts. Feeling insecure the best way for her to get her head back over water and to combat my premise is to best bleed my life from the complacency of hers. Lyssa loves to gloat inadvertently and in her naïve words, not even realizing that she’s putting me and my life down.

When Lyssa gets into an argument with me and it gets personal, Lyssa loves to put herself on a pedestal, always seeming that one step above me and putting me down with cynical remarks. There could be a thousand possible misadventures that I could write of detailing Lyssa and her haughty attitude but as time slacks these hands, I must digress to the rest of the working day in hopes that I can accomplish the bastard.

A Shirt Left Unbuttoned

There was nothing else doing at work apart from the shock I received when heading into Margot’s office with a query. The air condition is always noted to be quite warm at work but I wasn’t expecting to see Margot with all the buttons on her shirt either undone or loosened. Surprised to find my ability to see her bra quite easily, I wasn’t saturated in this provoked perversion, I mean, come on, she’s a bit too old a woman. Sticking to the subject of my question and trying not to glance at that area, I walked out of the office surprised.

Nevertheless, for the whole day at work, Margot was walking around mostly with her buttoned shirt undone so everyone else would have noticed her bra as she walked past. Skipping now to the end of the day, I didn’t end up waiting for Najla who decided to head for the toilet on the way out. Well, I did wait out the front for two minutes but seeing Linh and everyone else walking to the station, I decided to follow a hundred meters behind them. I never caught up but as I jumped on the train at Wynyard, I tried with no avail to find myself a proper seat.

Girls on the Train

Sitting in the chairs where the doors to the carriage are, I noticed three girls who were standing up and chatting to each other. Two of the girls were a few years older than me and were much more verbal and active than the third more quiescent girl. The most talkative girl who looked 26, had light brown hair, a clear complexion and a face that begged her to either be Italian, Croatian or Macedonian, I fell in love with that last possibility.

Glancing her over, she had a great pinstripe work suit on and just looked so up to date and stunning in her fashion. She wasn’t wearing a ten thousand dollar suit but she matched the clothes well and brought them out. Controlling her words well and sounding sophisticated, I sat there minding my own business and occasionally glancing up to sneak a peak. The quiet girl who was as tall as the other two girls looked stalky because of her being skinny.

This girl looked keenly interested in me as I sat there minding my own business. Straying from the conversation and being as much an observer as I, she kept either glancing at my reflection in the window or sneaking a passing glance at me. She wasn’t obsessed but just like me when I think someone is good looking. When a seat was freed right next to me, she anxiously sat herself down next to me to which she sat there with her arms between her legs, typical anxiety after what she felt was a bold move.

When a spot freed on the other side of me, I moved to the wall and slept there as I was growing very tired. The stalky girl looked a touch defeated by my move and as they jumped off at East Hills, my favored heart kissed them goodbye and goodnight.

Playstation Back Home

Ah, the irks of the office, never a finer day than on Monday did they perceive perception itself. There was none else to note about the rest of my Monday other than my safe bus trip home and then my beginning on the game ‘Driver’ which back then was much of an obsession. To this day, I still have the Playstation as Jett came over today but left it with me for an unknown duration.

In a way, I want it here as it will fill up the void that agitated hours on the computer could create but I also damn this Playstation from taking away many hours of depiction in these memoirs. It’s a double edged sword to where I can either waste my time on these games and fulfill myself with entertainment or entertain myself with words to which satisfaction will also be achieved when finally I complete chronology to date.

However, that will most probably never eventuate this month as I’ve been backlogged for a plenteous amount of days and there are no signs of letting up in the near future. Like today, I wanted to have some sort of day to this computer and it started off well this morning but with Jett ringing up out of the blue and heading over to my house, the whole day was spent away from my computer and obligations.

Keith Tags Along

In addition, Keith also brought his bore along later tonight, creating some realization with our tension when he did stick around like a bad smell. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to shake any of these weekends without having someone call me, pop over or take me out and away from the pressures of these memoirs. Although light entertainment has been favorably welcomed, I feel the taking me away from my pressures here only yields greater pressure that lasts much longer and with greater woe.

What’s best, to sacrifice one or two nights of possible thrill in going out or to head out and have a constant reminder looming in my head that I’m letting these memoirs slip further and further into oblivion. Like I always say, these pages come first as they are dearer to my heart than what fate can one day yield when not yielded to these pages.