Monday, June 19, 2006
Being Me (II) Is Nothing But Hopeless Digressions
If it is to be, it will be. Whoever you are, you are who you are. You shall be responsible for whatever path that you choose to walk on. But the path that we walk on, the journey we make, are not always that obviously directed or brightly lit. Morever, it can be extremely bumpy and uneven.
Your life is filled with many characters, many of whom are just passerbys, some may stay a while, and a couple shall remain with you forever. Yet only one will remain with you forever, and ever. No one really actually knows who this "one" will be, except only those who proclaim they have "finally found their one and only one." Can those who have been married for 2 decades claim with absolute no doubt that their spouse is the one and only indispensable one? But who is to say they know the future?
Ignorance is bliss.
Period.
I blame no one. I think of only myself. Why am I like this? Why am I so slow, so not smarter, so dumb? Am I a pest to ask too much? Does that mean I am not smart enought to know what to do?
If clarifiying my doubts is a bother, I do not mind any reprimands. So if I am asking dumb questions, does it mean I really am just a silly person? Why am I asking so many questions I have no answers to?
I do not want to anger anyone. But nothing seems to appease anyone. I look at myself - I am lost. What is life when I am so lost?
Why does everyone want to make fun of me? I wish I can let everything go. But somehow I feel hopeful. Just that this glint of hope is nowhere to be seen.
Period.
I think of someone. Someone I have no idea what to think of. To wait or not to wait. To have or not to have? Endure a marathon I love to; but to wait for something I am so afraid of losing makes me scare. So scare I sense tears welling in my eyes...
Yet I have just received affirmation of what I have been so afraid of.
For the longest time I have been wondering when madness shall finally devour my sanity or whether depression will eventually set in. I feel that if one think too much, he will either attain philosophical enlightenment or pure insanity.
I think: Of things I know I should not be worrying or brooding over too much about.
I feel: Helpless that I can never be the person I think I ought to be.
For the things that I have done and I am doing I feel depraved but everytime it always only hit me when it is all over and done with. Perhaps I am too depraved, such that I do not feel guilt in any substantial amount. Ain't I just being wasted away? It is degrading and degenerating, although quite apart from the fact that all humans do pass on and degrade and degenerate (just in an entirely different sense).
My mind strays aimlessly, not knowing what to think about. Just constant blankness. An air of melancholy lingers, albeit faintly, making it difficult to catch hold of it; impossible to find out where it came from. I go about daily with what I have to do. But I only wonder at the quiet moments: Why I am even here on this planet, in this realm (if supernature exists)? Is this a crisis of self-identification or spiritual awakening (referred: Ian)?
It is this prolonged reflections of queries that has fueled the onset of frustrations and moodiness. I fear ageing wrinkles will develop faster from this onset of emotional outbreak and I will lose my footing, leading to dire repercussions.
I can see this has become a vicious cycle for me. To think again is to fuel more worries and I will think even more. I should turn in. My stomach is grumbling. I wonder if I should work out tomorrow. I do not want my muscles to turn flabby...