Emotional block
I am highly frustrated by my lack of ability to express myself in written English. When will get back my swashbuckling written ability? Return soon, for without it I'm really less than half of who I was before..
Monday, August 14, 2006
Uninspired
I think, if I'm not wrong, there was a time where I could just stare at the blogger entry template, and slowly but surely generate some nonsense or gem of an opinion in it , normally in the death of the night after a hard day's worth of school.
Nowadays, I can't even think of interesting nicknames for my MSN, let alone insightful entries about my messed up life. For that matter, I can't seem to muster up a worthwhile opinion about anything nowadays. There were times where I would rant and rave about how crappy mediacock is and how the voting system is flawed in Singapore Idol and how it undermines democracy in Singapore, but not anymore recently. No fire in my belly. It's tempting to blame the service for it, but although it is not the only contributing factor. Sure, while in service you're encouraged not to think creatively, only to regurgitate what previous people have done, and never questioning it. The word "Why?" was momentarily banned from my workplace at one point, and my superior would reply to it by saying "Because I said so." How's that for a convincing argument.
Still, it's more of my laziness to come up with an opinion. Maybe because I know that the best way to survive is just to quietly live out the time and go on to the greener pastures of life.
Oh well, just musing. Will be out of it soon.
I think, if I'm not wrong, there was a time where I could just stare at the blogger entry template, and slowly but surely generate some nonsense or gem of an opinion in it , normally in the death of the night after a hard day's worth of school.
Nowadays, I can't even think of interesting nicknames for my MSN, let alone insightful entries about my messed up life. For that matter, I can't seem to muster up a worthwhile opinion about anything nowadays. There were times where I would rant and rave about how crappy mediacock is and how the voting system is flawed in Singapore Idol and how it undermines democracy in Singapore, but not anymore recently. No fire in my belly. It's tempting to blame the service for it, but although it is not the only contributing factor. Sure, while in service you're encouraged not to think creatively, only to regurgitate what previous people have done, and never questioning it. The word "Why?" was momentarily banned from my workplace at one point, and my superior would reply to it by saying "Because I said so." How's that for a convincing argument.
Still, it's more of my laziness to come up with an opinion. Maybe because I know that the best way to survive is just to quietly live out the time and go on to the greener pastures of life.
Oh well, just musing. Will be out of it soon.
Masochist
Well, in the end, the idiot got the girl.
I know this is all scripted and everything, but one has to wonder. Would you do so much for a girl you love, but had rejected you at first, then became the girlfriend of your best friend, and despite that fact you still think of her and help her out while she is in the arms of your best friend?
All I can say if you want to, you're either just crazily stupid or eternally optimistic. Either way I believe you're the ultimate masochist. You're just asking for pain to come your way.
But of course, in the lala-land of TV, the sacrifices are not wasted, as the love sick idiot gets the girl in the end.
Pity we don't live in such a convenient fantasyland.
Well, in the end, the idiot got the girl.
I know this is all scripted and everything, but one has to wonder. Would you do so much for a girl you love, but had rejected you at first, then became the girlfriend of your best friend, and despite that fact you still think of her and help her out while she is in the arms of your best friend?
All I can say if you want to, you're either just crazily stupid or eternally optimistic. Either way I believe you're the ultimate masochist. You're just asking for pain to come your way.
But of course, in the lala-land of TV, the sacrifices are not wasted, as the love sick idiot gets the girl in the end.
Pity we don't live in such a convenient fantasyland.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
For you I will..
It's crazy I tell you. Sometimes random emotions just come upon you and you can't help but wonder why. You haven't experienced such emotions for so long and you think you're immune to it for now, but suddenly it just creeps up on you and next thing you know it you're stuttering and become tongued tied.
All those latent, hidden feelings come back, you can feel the euphoria associated with them, yet the apprehension of past troubles caused by such misguided feelings will hold you back from surrendering yourself to them. You remember the pain these feelings caused you the last time.
So you wait. You keep a respectful distance. You're there, yet you leave a crucial part of yourself out. You say things with double meanings, wondering which is the meaning you want to be interpreted. You show concern but put up a front of forced nonchalance as well, to prevent the impression of being overly concerned from being formed. You talk in riddles, hide your emotions, put on that smile, all in effort of putting up a show of calmness, to tell all nothing will ever faze you, and show nothing that would betray your true convictions.
So you put up your defences. You're scared that if you let down your guard again, your soft underbelly will be torn to pieces by the vultures, those who would make sport of your perceived imperfections, and those who would disregard your deepest and strongest emotions with cruel callousness. You're afraid that the truth may be the last thing you want to hear.
So you wait. You wait in the vain hope that the other party would lower her defences, take that vital first step, show you that no harm will be meant, before you would be coaxed out of your tightly wound shell, for you to let down the facade, for you to be some semblance of your true nature. You wait in the hope a signal of acceptance will come your way, a symbol of harmony between two souls, a sign that it's a risk worth taking.
I guess most of us are waiting. Waiting for the other person to let down his or her defences. You may think that person shouldn't be you, as the last time you did that, you were hurt. Once bitten, twice shy, you hold your cards even closer to your chest, exceedingly frightful that even the slightest slip will cause you the same pain as before. So you're willing to wait, for the memory of the pain is still fresh..
But waiting eventually becomes an impasse of awkward glances, non-conversations before the eventual drifting apart. For all you know, the other party was willing to do so if you did first. The echo of a missed opportunity will ring loud in your heart forever then..
So the question remains, do you wait, or do you take the first step?
It's crazy I tell you. Sometimes random emotions just come upon you and you can't help but wonder why. You haven't experienced such emotions for so long and you think you're immune to it for now, but suddenly it just creeps up on you and next thing you know it you're stuttering and become tongued tied.
All those latent, hidden feelings come back, you can feel the euphoria associated with them, yet the apprehension of past troubles caused by such misguided feelings will hold you back from surrendering yourself to them. You remember the pain these feelings caused you the last time.
So you wait. You keep a respectful distance. You're there, yet you leave a crucial part of yourself out. You say things with double meanings, wondering which is the meaning you want to be interpreted. You show concern but put up a front of forced nonchalance as well, to prevent the impression of being overly concerned from being formed. You talk in riddles, hide your emotions, put on that smile, all in effort of putting up a show of calmness, to tell all nothing will ever faze you, and show nothing that would betray your true convictions.
So you put up your defences. You're scared that if you let down your guard again, your soft underbelly will be torn to pieces by the vultures, those who would make sport of your perceived imperfections, and those who would disregard your deepest and strongest emotions with cruel callousness. You're afraid that the truth may be the last thing you want to hear.
So you wait. You wait in the vain hope that the other party would lower her defences, take that vital first step, show you that no harm will be meant, before you would be coaxed out of your tightly wound shell, for you to let down the facade, for you to be some semblance of your true nature. You wait in the hope a signal of acceptance will come your way, a symbol of harmony between two souls, a sign that it's a risk worth taking.
I guess most of us are waiting. Waiting for the other person to let down his or her defences. You may think that person shouldn't be you, as the last time you did that, you were hurt. Once bitten, twice shy, you hold your cards even closer to your chest, exceedingly frightful that even the slightest slip will cause you the same pain as before. So you're willing to wait, for the memory of the pain is still fresh..
But waiting eventually becomes an impasse of awkward glances, non-conversations before the eventual drifting apart. For all you know, the other party was willing to do so if you did first. The echo of a missed opportunity will ring loud in your heart forever then..
So the question remains, do you wait, or do you take the first step?
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