No good in human nature?

"Where's the "good" in goodbye? Where's the "nice" in nice try? Where's the "us" in trust gone? Where's the soul in "soldier on"? I'm alone and lonely 'cause I don't own the only. I can take this mistake but I can't take the ache from heartbreak. I can't take the ache from heartbreak!"

After knowing that my mom has to pay 90% of her monthly salary to my dad's debt, I've told two people about this so far, and I don't plan on telling a third person--the first one being my brother, and the second one Frank.

I told my brother about this because I used to tell him everything, but his response was frustrating and I've decided not to talk to him anymore. He first gave me a lot of suggestions but all I needed was some empathy, or sympathy. Knowing that someone understood, or even shared my pain and grief. He showed none. He thought I discriminated against him by calling him gay. I mean, wtf, if I can't call a gay man gay or homosexual, what should I call them, straight?

Anyway, the trigger that set off the fire in me was the fact that he thought I took away all the opportunities from him. He thought I took away all the good genes; I could travel abroad almost every summer but he couldn't. But then I asked him if he thought he'd be as successful as I have been if he could have all the trips I had. He gave no answer. He blamed me rather than fate or God. What a fucking loser. That's it. We're done here.

The second person I talked to was Frank. Our conversation ended the same way as the conversation between me and my brother did. He thought I was asking him to be responsible for my mood. All I want is a hug from someone and someone telling me that understood my pain. That's it. Why do people these days make such simple emotional support a big deal?

The person I want to talk to most is Ken. But I can't. Can I? He came to me when he felt so much pain, when his cousin died. I cried upon hearing him talk about his pain. That's the kind of empathy I want, the kind of empathy I give to Ken. Unfortunately, I can't empathize with myself. People today value independence, "taking care of yourself" so much but the fucking sad truth is, I can't hug myself; I can't cry with myself, because there's only one of me.

I gave Ken a big, warm, long hug when he was about to leave. He was still drunk but he said it felt so good and I could feel his relief in my embrace. That's the kind of hug I need right now, the hug I gave to Ken that Sunday morning.

The world is filled with more and more fucking zombies, i.e. emotionless, numb, cold-blooded, depressed, violent zombies who do not have any emotional availability left in their hearts to feel whatever/whoever is around them. I'm not going to become one of them.

Despite all the realities give me an incentive to be a zombie, I will not go there again. That money is not a problem; I'll willingly give it to my mom because I can't bear to see her suffer like that. I just feel sad that my dad has screwed up big time throughout my entire life and my mom has no way to get out of it. I also feel sad for myself because I work so hard, for that vision of having a loving family, and yet I'm nowhere near it.

Dear X, where are you now? I'm thinking about going back to the City of Gold for Christmas. It's my favorite city after all. Perhaps I'll be alone, but I miss the smell of Ken's apartment, the blue sky and the ocean breeze. Of course, the sunrise and the sunset by the beach. Amazing coffee, empathetic smiles, and aimless wanders along the pier. The only thing that's stopping me is knowing that the city is still there but Ken won't be, and yet Ken was the key that made the city so beautiful to me.

One good news here: The Script just added me on Instagram. They've got 224k followers and they follow less than 1500. Somehow they requested to follow my Instagram since it's a private one. I wonder who did that, and if whoever added me saw those pictures and paintings on my Instagram.