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Saturday, June 25, 2005
I think I'm beginning to understand the desperation and fear that some people experience that drives them to do drastic and uncharacteristic things which irritate the people around them. I say 'I'm beginning' because I don't think I can say I fully grasp the concept and comprehend the thoughts that travel through their minds, but sitting at home on a Saturday night at 1144pm with nothing to do but sit in front of the computer, I think I could catch a wisp of that desperation of thought. I want to call someone but the frightened little naive child inside me is revolting profusely against it. Yet the me that's starting to break loose of the former shell wants to attempt to take a step forward in mild trepidation. The end result is a torn person who's very restless and dissatisfied. I can give excuses and tell myself that I'm staying in to read, and conversely, reading does not open up my mind to larger issues outside of myself and take beyond my histrionism. In fact, it is in reading that I close in on myelf, on my thoughts and how they relate to my surroundings, and how everything that I'm feeling and thinking is magnified tenfold and presented to me in the landscape of my mind. It is impossible to be swept away by sheer words on a page, because those words conjure up an image that exists in the mind, your mind, and there is no way out from there.I apologise if this sounds all wanky and self-indulgent, but then again, wait a minute, this is my blog, and I can jolly well indulge all I want and write whatever I please. I'm sick of always complying to other people's wishes, and compromising myself for the people around me. Sometimes, it would be nice to just melt away for a while, to reconfigure myself. Why do I have to do what society thinks is right, and I think is appropriate? I'm sick of myself, me and my rigidity. Society and people, I can shake free. It is myself that I can't shake free of, and that's what torments me the most. Why do I bother what I think of myself? I am constantly evolving and changing, be it for better or worse. But why do I still cling on to obsolete ideals that were set in the plaster of my mind ages ago? Back when things were simpler easier, and I was simpler and truer to myself.I think I'm my greatest enemy. I'm my greatest stumbling block.
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Would the world be a better place if we all gave in to our desires and feelings? Or does practising restrain make us better people? I, for one, have been practising restrain on myself that I fear I am about to burst wide open and pummel the world with my beating heart. Who create the social rules that we live by today? And why do we have to live by certain unspoken rules? What makes desire bad when technically, it should be a good thing? Does giving in to our desires make us weaker people? Are we made stronger by resisting our urges and placing ourselves on the other side of the river? What does distancing do to us, besides making us less connected as humans, and making us colder people. It's all a delicate balance, a fine line, and I don't think anyone in the whole course of history ever managed it well. We all either tether to the one or the other side. 'Tis human nature. We are imperfect, and any attempt at perfection only drives us further into imperfection. Nietzsche thinks so, and so do I. You don't get angry do you?In a recollection of memories, someone once said that to me in the not-too-distant past. And being the bathroom philosopher that I am, I discoursed with myself that there exist two kinds of people in the world: happy people, and unhappy people. And I being to the latter. Regardless of how people perceive me, or how I put up a front, I do think think that ultimately, (I think) I am intrinsically unhappy. Angry people are unhappy people and they blame others for their unhappiness. Sad people are unhappy people, and they blame their own inadequacies for their their own unhappiness. Ultimately, life to me is........... a quest for fulfilment. Fulfilment of my desires, and attaining answers to questions that plague me. Maybe it's not such a bad thing. Maybe I'm giving myself far too much credit than I deserve. Either way, it's dinner time, and I'm hungry. Hungry for food, thirsty for answers. But the latter's not gonna come to me is it?Thought not.
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