Oh how life goes! One moment one is happy, the next, angry and annoyed, and then suddenly all depressed. This is such a confusing thing... and to make matters worst, enough of the close friends of mine have all seem to have big problems of their own, and they are all starting to drift away trying to deal with them.
So if you've looked closely at the profile pictures, you would find that my emblem now has a dark triangle in the upper left corner, a concept that I call ``half-shrouded in darkness''. What's the significance, you might ask. Well, it is the embodiment of the current state of affairs, where I am teetering between the light and the dark, the orthodox and the unorthodox, the---you get the idea. What was essentially a ``pure'' symbol now finds the darkness corrupting itself from the top-left, symbolic because the left is where the logical side of the mind rests. That's right, the logic itself is getting corrupted by the darkness, and the only thing that is resisting it is the hacker side in the lower right corner, as shown by the glider, which is the universal hacker symbol.
So, bordering between darkness and light, a confused throng of uncomfortable feelings and thoughts, all amalgamated into what is the current me. Perhaps this life of mine is on the verge of ending, but somehow I think not---the trials and tribulations are just what makes life interestingly hard and provide just enough kick to see one's true mettle, I suppose.
*sigh*
Am I just blathering here to make myself feel better?
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Minor Chit-chat
Life's weird huh. When you think that things are going to be alright, something funky gets thrown in your path.
But in my case, it's not that big of an issue---I am moving on in life already. What has happened in the past remains the in the past, locked behind the barriers of time. A memory is all I take, and a memory is all I need I suppose.
Juvpu rkcynvaf jul V qvqa'g dhvgr haqrefgnaq jul Vqn gubhtug gung V jnf tbvat gb gel gb ``jva'' ure onpx va gur shgher, nf abgrq ol ure engure pelcgvp nffregvba bire VZ gung jr jrer abg tbvat gb trg onpx gbtrgure ab znggre gur pvephzfgnapr.
V qhaab ubj orfg gb vagrecerg guvf. Rvgure V pna frr vg nf ure gelvat gb or sevraqyl naq erzvaqvat zr gb zbir ba jvgu yvsr naq abg guvax bs jnlf gb trg onpx jvgu ure, be V pna frr vg nf n cebibpngvir fgngrzrag zrnag gb fvax zl yvsr wnpxrg. Xabjvat ure, V nz zber vapyvarq gb fgvpx jvgu gur sbezre vagrecergngvba---fur'f nf oyhag nf V nz jura vg pbzrf gb pbzzhavpngvat vqrnf/rzbgvbaf, fb V nz abg ng nyy fhecevfrq vs ure vagragvbaf jrer ernyyl ba gur tbbq fvqr nf bccbfrq gb gur znyribyrag bar. Nf hfhny, V ree ba gur fvqr bs pnhgvba naq jnag gb pynevsl gur pynevsvpngvba (juvpu jnf pelcgvp ururu) gb znxr fher gung V nz trggvat gur evtug zrnavat.
Anyway, life moves on. There are higher goals that I need to look into, and the whole relationship thing is taking a back seat for now. If life were dominated only by the search for the Significant Other, I think there's little that one can achieve at the end of it all.
Till next time.
But in my case, it's not that big of an issue---I am moving on in life already. What has happened in the past remains the in the past, locked behind the barriers of time. A memory is all I take, and a memory is all I need I suppose.
Juvpu rkcynvaf jul V qvqa'g dhvgr haqrefgnaq jul Vqn gubhtug gung V jnf tbvat gb gel gb ``jva'' ure onpx va gur shgher, nf abgrq ol ure engure pelcgvp nffregvba bire VZ gung jr jrer abg tbvat gb trg onpx gbtrgure ab znggre gur pvephzfgnapr.
V qhaab ubj orfg gb vagrecerg guvf. Rvgure V pna frr vg nf ure gelvat gb or sevraqyl naq erzvaqvat zr gb zbir ba jvgu yvsr naq abg guvax bs jnlf gb trg onpx jvgu ure, be V pna frr vg nf n cebibpngvir fgngrzrag zrnag gb fvax zl yvsr wnpxrg. Xabjvat ure, V nz zber vapyvarq gb fgvpx jvgu gur sbezre vagrecergngvba---fur'f nf oyhag nf V nz jura vg pbzrf gb pbzzhavpngvat vqrnf/rzbgvbaf, fb V nz abg ng nyy fhecevfrq vs ure vagragvbaf jrer ernyyl ba gur tbbq fvqr nf bccbfrq gb gur znyribyrag bar. Nf hfhny, V ree ba gur fvqr bs pnhgvba naq jnag gb pynevsl gur pynevsvpngvba (juvpu jnf pelcgvp ururu) gb znxr fher gung V nz trggvat gur evtug zrnavat.
Anyway, life moves on. There are higher goals that I need to look into, and the whole relationship thing is taking a back seat for now. If life were dominated only by the search for the Significant Other, I think there's little that one can achieve at the end of it all.
Till next time.
Friday, August 28, 2009
It Could Have Been Me...
First, this.
Now, realise that that could've been me. And the scariest part is, I'm not joking about that.
I remember the many times that I walk on the same stairs, and looked down the particular stairwell. That stairwell was deep and large---it's called ``architect's leap'' for a reason. Each time I walked by that stairwell, there was always this strange fascination about what it would feel like to leap off it, as suggested by the ``Burma Shave'' ditty written on each platform.
I remember why I didn't bother jumping (or killing myself or anything like that). Killing oneself on one's own terms needed guts, that's for sure. But more guts are needed to live on through whatever life throws at you, and that was ultimately why I am still alive now and writing here.
That said, may you find peace, my fellow CS brother.
Amen.
Now, realise that that could've been me. And the scariest part is, I'm not joking about that.
I remember the many times that I walk on the same stairs, and looked down the particular stairwell. That stairwell was deep and large---it's called ``architect's leap'' for a reason. Each time I walked by that stairwell, there was always this strange fascination about what it would feel like to leap off it, as suggested by the ``Burma Shave'' ditty written on each platform.
I remember why I didn't bother jumping (or killing myself or anything like that). Killing oneself on one's own terms needed guts, that's for sure. But more guts are needed to live on through whatever life throws at you, and that was ultimately why I am still alive now and writing here.
That said, may you find peace, my fellow CS brother.
Amen.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
First a Researcher, then a Hacker
I must learn that I am first a researcher and then (only then!) a hacker.
Otherwise I might need to rethink my career options...
Otherwise I might need to rethink my career options...
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
A New Dawn Awaits
The pillars of support, they seem to fall one by one, and I suddenly find myself standing out in the cold almost alone with no one else to comfort me. It is a strange feeling, since on the one hand there is a weird sense of serenity, yet on the other hand there is this sense of foreboding that lurks just beyond the precipice of darkness.
Life can be very cruel in all its ways, yet one thing seems certain---I end up being a survivor. No matter how bad the world treats me, no matter how hard the uphill struggle, I still hold my ground and stand on my own two feet and charge on forwards, not looking back.
The choice to move forwards is often a hard one---there are many obstacles that just seem to get in the way. But at the end of the day, no matter how bad the world treats me, or at least, no matter how bad I think the world is treating me, I will find a way.
I am a human; I am not a human. This duality works to my advantage should I choose it well. Literally let bygones be bygones, and not think about the past that has made me so forlorn for so very long. The path ahead is full of thickets of bushes, but if I do not clear the way and move onwards, who will?
The battle has ended, yet the war has just begun. Blood will be shed, reckoning will be done. And through it all, I will stand tall and face whatever Fate dares throw into my path. Arrogant? Perhaps, but sometimes a little arrogance is necessary to provide the momentum to just hurtle forwards through time and to deal with whatever that comes my way.
Life sucks, heck, life sucks big time. Yet there is always hope to believe in, and people to trust. Never mind that half the people that one trusted before can turn around and backstab---never mind that the other half are probably helping under the pretext that it will provide them with some side benefit. The forward movement is all that matters, all that matters!
Learning to live, learning to cope, learning to say goodbye and never to look back---why have I gone weak in this regard? Where has my youthful exuberance gone? Where has that youthful bravado and never-say-die attitude gone? Have I gone soft and meek as the years advance?
Onward! Onward I say. Never mind what others think---they think whatever they want and there's nothing that I can do about it. Never mind what others do, for it is only my own actions that I am responsible for. Have faith in myself, know that I will find my niche in time to come. Time may be short, but time is still around---I still have that short amount of time around, so I better make good use of it. There has been enough false starts, but the time for the dream to end is now.
A new dawn awaits.
Life can be very cruel in all its ways, yet one thing seems certain---I end up being a survivor. No matter how bad the world treats me, no matter how hard the uphill struggle, I still hold my ground and stand on my own two feet and charge on forwards, not looking back.
The choice to move forwards is often a hard one---there are many obstacles that just seem to get in the way. But at the end of the day, no matter how bad the world treats me, or at least, no matter how bad I think the world is treating me, I will find a way.
I am a human; I am not a human. This duality works to my advantage should I choose it well. Literally let bygones be bygones, and not think about the past that has made me so forlorn for so very long. The path ahead is full of thickets of bushes, but if I do not clear the way and move onwards, who will?
The battle has ended, yet the war has just begun. Blood will be shed, reckoning will be done. And through it all, I will stand tall and face whatever Fate dares throw into my path. Arrogant? Perhaps, but sometimes a little arrogance is necessary to provide the momentum to just hurtle forwards through time and to deal with whatever that comes my way.
Life sucks, heck, life sucks big time. Yet there is always hope to believe in, and people to trust. Never mind that half the people that one trusted before can turn around and backstab---never mind that the other half are probably helping under the pretext that it will provide them with some side benefit. The forward movement is all that matters, all that matters!
Learning to live, learning to cope, learning to say goodbye and never to look back---why have I gone weak in this regard? Where has my youthful exuberance gone? Where has that youthful bravado and never-say-die attitude gone? Have I gone soft and meek as the years advance?
Onward! Onward I say. Never mind what others think---they think whatever they want and there's nothing that I can do about it. Never mind what others do, for it is only my own actions that I am responsible for. Have faith in myself, know that I will find my niche in time to come. Time may be short, but time is still around---I still have that short amount of time around, so I better make good use of it. There has been enough false starts, but the time for the dream to end is now.
A new dawn awaits.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Mutterings
I've never felt more socially isolated than now. This is rather worrying.
V pnaabg rkcynva jul V srry guvf jnl. Znlor orpnhfr bar bs gur gevttref bppheerq erpragyl, nf va, gur zrrgvat jvgu gur erfg bs gur fpubynef ng bar bs gubfr betnavfrq riragf. Fbzrubj V frrz gb or hanoyr gb fueht bss gung hapnaal srryvat gung V nz fbzrubj vasrevbe va fbzr jnl, qrfcvgr zr orvat n fpubyne yvxr gur erfg bs gurz.
Ab pyhr.
Yvsr frrzf n yvggyr zber pbzcyvpngrq guna hfhny, naq V unir yvggyr vqrnf ba ubj zhpu bs vg vf qhr gb zr orvat nyy bireyl frafvgvir naq ubj zhpu bs vg vf qhr gb npghny ernyvgl. Fb znal pbzcyvpngrq rzbgvbaf, fb znal fgenatr rapbhagref, fb zhpu lrneavat gung V pnaabg frrz gb chg njnl.
Naq V fhqqrayl srry yvxr xrrcvat n png sbe n crg. Gung gubhtug fhecevfrq zr, gb chg vg va n zvyq jnl. V'ir arire ernyyl fnj zlfrys nf n crg-xrrcvat crefba, lrg jura guvf gubhtug fhqqrayl svygrerq guebhtu zl zvaq, V jnf nf fubpxrq nf pna or. Ohg bs pbhefr, V jba'g or xrrcvat n png abj---cbbe yvggyr pevggre jvyy abg unir gur cynpr gb jnyx nebhaq naq rkcyber, tvira gung zl pheerag qjryyvat vf snveyl shyy bs fghss sebz gur gjragl bqq lrnef gung jr'ir orra yvivat va.
Nsgre n irel fubeg juvyr, lrg nabgure gubhtug fgevxrf zr. Nz V punaaryyvat gubhtugf sebz zl rk-tveysevraq? Vs gung jrer gehr, gura creuncf gung jbhyq or fhssvpvrag rkcynangvba nf gb jul V jnf srryvat guvf jrveq ng guvf gvzr. Vg pbhyq or na nznytnzngvba bs frireny riragf---gur zrrgvat jvgu gur bgure fpubynef, gur qrnqyvarf sbe gur inevbhf cebwrpgf, gur veengvbany srne bs nccylvat gb tenq fpubby, gur frafr bs ``jung-vs'' gung creinqrf qhr gb gur ortvaavat bs gur snyy frzrfgre, gur trareny ynpx bs pbzcnal urer nf pbzcnerq gb orvat onpx va gur 'ohetu, yvggyr guvatf yvxr gung gung nqq hc gb n pbafvqrenoyr cvyr bs zrff.
Jryy, nyy fnvq naq qbar, ng yrnfg V guvax gung znlor V unir vqragvsvrq n srj bs gur ceboyrz nernf gung V nz snpvat. Gvzr gb qrny jvgu gurz bar fgrc ng n gvzr.
If I do not live this life and seize it to call my own, no one will.
V pnaabg rkcynva jul V srry guvf jnl. Znlor orpnhfr bar bs gur gevttref bppheerq erpragyl, nf va, gur zrrgvat jvgu gur erfg bs gur fpubynef ng bar bs gubfr betnavfrq riragf. Fbzrubj V frrz gb or hanoyr gb fueht bss gung hapnaal srryvat gung V nz fbzrubj vasrevbe va fbzr jnl, qrfcvgr zr orvat n fpubyne yvxr gur erfg bs gurz.
Ab pyhr.
Yvsr frrzf n yvggyr zber pbzcyvpngrq guna hfhny, naq V unir yvggyr vqrnf ba ubj zhpu bs vg vf qhr gb zr orvat nyy bireyl frafvgvir naq ubj zhpu bs vg vf qhr gb npghny ernyvgl. Fb znal pbzcyvpngrq rzbgvbaf, fb znal fgenatr rapbhagref, fb zhpu lrneavat gung V pnaabg frrz gb chg njnl.
Naq V fhqqrayl srry yvxr xrrcvat n png sbe n crg. Gung gubhtug fhecevfrq zr, gb chg vg va n zvyq jnl. V'ir arire ernyyl fnj zlfrys nf n crg-xrrcvat crefba, lrg jura guvf gubhtug fhqqrayl svygrerq guebhtu zl zvaq, V jnf nf fubpxrq nf pna or. Ohg bs pbhefr, V jba'g or xrrcvat n png abj---cbbe yvggyr pevggre jvyy abg unir gur cynpr gb jnyx nebhaq naq rkcyber, tvira gung zl pheerag qjryyvat vf snveyl shyy bs fghss sebz gur gjragl bqq lrnef gung jr'ir orra yvivat va.
Nsgre n irel fubeg juvyr, lrg nabgure gubhtug fgevxrf zr. Nz V punaaryyvat gubhtugf sebz zl rk-tveysevraq? Vs gung jrer gehr, gura creuncf gung jbhyq or fhssvpvrag rkcynangvba nf gb jul V jnf srryvat guvf jrveq ng guvf gvzr. Vg pbhyq or na nznytnzngvba bs frireny riragf---gur zrrgvat jvgu gur bgure fpubynef, gur qrnqyvarf sbe gur inevbhf cebwrpgf, gur veengvbany srne bs nccylvat gb tenq fpubby, gur frafr bs ``jung-vs'' gung creinqrf qhr gb gur ortvaavat bs gur snyy frzrfgre, gur trareny ynpx bs pbzcnal urer nf pbzcnerq gb orvat onpx va gur 'ohetu, yvggyr guvatf yvxr gung gung nqq hc gb n pbafvqrenoyr cvyr bs zrff.
Jryy, nyy fnvq naq qbar, ng yrnfg V guvax gung znlor V unir vqragvsvrq n srj bs gur ceboyrz nernf gung V nz snpvat. Gvzr gb qrny jvgu gurz bar fgrc ng n gvzr.
If I do not live this life and seize it to call my own, no one will.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
prettyprint.js Does a Good Job
Pick some historical content on this blog. Observe that anything that had " used has become smart quotes.
I've upgraded the pretty print script to do some automagic conversion from simple double quotes to the prettier ``smart'' ones. The caveat will be that unbalanced double quotes will cause the regex converter to go wonky---I don't see this as a big problem though. At the very least, if we had only a single double quote character starting a line, and have the next line starting with yet another single double quote, as long as there are intervening tags in between, prettyprint.js will actually do the right job.
The things that I do to obtain better viewing for the stuff I write...
...till next time.
I've upgraded the pretty print script to do some automagic conversion from simple double quotes to the prettier ``smart'' ones. The caveat will be that unbalanced double quotes will cause the regex converter to go wonky---I don't see this as a big problem though. At the very least, if we had only a single double quote character starting a line, and have the next line starting with yet another single double quote, as long as there are intervening tags in between, prettyprint.js will actually do the right job.
The things that I do to obtain better viewing for the stuff I write...
...till next time.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Brother Louie
First look at this. Now look at this:And the lyrics are below:
The question is: why these two songs have almost similar tunes?!
Deep love is a burnin' fire stayLyrics courtesy www.lyrics007.com.
'cause then the flame grows higher babe
Don't let him steal your heart
It's easy easy
Girl this game can't last forever why
We cannot live together try
Don't let him take your love from me
You're no good can't you see
Brother Louie Louie Louie
I'm in love set her free
Oh she's only lookin' to me
Only love breaks her heart
Brother Louie Louie Louie
Only love's paradise
Oh she's only lookin' to me
Brother Louie Louie Louie
Oh she's only lookin' to me
Oh let it Louie
She's under cover
Brother Louie Louie Louie
Oh doin' what he's doin'
So leave it Louie
'cause I'm her lover
Stay 'cause this boy wants to gamble stay
Love's more than he can handle girl
Oh come on stay by me
Forever ever
Why does he go on pretendin' that
His love is never ending babe
Don't let him steal your love from me
The question is: why these two songs have almost similar tunes?!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Reminiscince
These days, I think I'm probably scaring a lot of people. Many times, people ask me if I am sad, and I ask them in return ``do I look sad to you?'' and then many times they reply ``well I don't really know, you look kinda okay'' before I follow up with ``well, I'm always sad, it is just a matter of degree''.
So I'm not actually lying about that---I am always sad; and it is just a matter of degree. Many people like to think that if someone is smiling a lot and is very jovial, then the person is probably not sad at all. That, as many have grown to realise eventually, is a sham. In fact, those who look the most jovial, laugh the most readily and appear to be the most happy need to have more scrutiny---often times they might be hiding some deep sadness that they are unwilling to talk to anyone about.
The trick into seeing these people is through the eyes---the eyes show it all, whether you are happy or sad. Ever heard of the phrase ``smiling with your eyes''? Well that is exactly what I am referring to.
So, sure, I might joke a lot, be awkward, laugh readily, be snappy with people and generally exude a certain sense of well-being. But if you actually took the time to look deep enough into my eyes, you will find that there is a very deep pain and sadness within. What this pain and sadness is is clearly not something that I want to talk about---suffice to say, it is related to life and life in general. Heh... maybe this is related to why I don't fear very many things, including death.
So, me. Was I ever happy? Well... yes, here and there, but overall, I think that sadness dominates my personality. I will smile a lot, I can be as crazy as the next guy, but if you lock me in a room and gave me strong liquor to knock me out, all you'll find is just a very sad looking drunk [who writes essays].
The next logical question will be, what makes me happy? I think that the answer to this is rather straightforward (and it might sound a little desperate, but whatever)---I am happy when I am doing things for the one I love. Sappy? Yeah, probably, but I don't really care all that much. I've been pretty much a walking husk since I turned 20, yet in between those years I have learnt what being human is all about, and have been nourished by all the possible human emotions that one can experience, from euphoria to caution to being concerned and to being contented---I have met with all of them at some time or another.
Heh... I'm still quite human after all.
But I guess all that I can do now is to wait it out and do things that are actually productive---this has something to do with how the entire schedule for the upcoming 6 years are going to be rather hellish.
Okay, enough of weightier issues... till next time.
So I'm not actually lying about that---I am always sad; and it is just a matter of degree. Many people like to think that if someone is smiling a lot and is very jovial, then the person is probably not sad at all. That, as many have grown to realise eventually, is a sham. In fact, those who look the most jovial, laugh the most readily and appear to be the most happy need to have more scrutiny---often times they might be hiding some deep sadness that they are unwilling to talk to anyone about.
The trick into seeing these people is through the eyes---the eyes show it all, whether you are happy or sad. Ever heard of the phrase ``smiling with your eyes''? Well that is exactly what I am referring to.
So, sure, I might joke a lot, be awkward, laugh readily, be snappy with people and generally exude a certain sense of well-being. But if you actually took the time to look deep enough into my eyes, you will find that there is a very deep pain and sadness within. What this pain and sadness is is clearly not something that I want to talk about---suffice to say, it is related to life and life in general. Heh... maybe this is related to why I don't fear very many things, including death.
So, me. Was I ever happy? Well... yes, here and there, but overall, I think that sadness dominates my personality. I will smile a lot, I can be as crazy as the next guy, but if you lock me in a room and gave me strong liquor to knock me out, all you'll find is just a very sad looking drunk [who writes essays].
The next logical question will be, what makes me happy? I think that the answer to this is rather straightforward (and it might sound a little desperate, but whatever)---I am happy when I am doing things for the one I love. Sappy? Yeah, probably, but I don't really care all that much. I've been pretty much a walking husk since I turned 20, yet in between those years I have learnt what being human is all about, and have been nourished by all the possible human emotions that one can experience, from euphoria to caution to being concerned and to being contented---I have met with all of them at some time or another.
Heh... I'm still quite human after all.
But I guess all that I can do now is to wait it out and do things that are actually productive---this has something to do with how the entire schedule for the upcoming 6 years are going to be rather hellish.
Okay, enough of weightier issues... till next time.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Semi-Serious Rambling
It has been a rather long day, fraught with many last minute changes in schedules. But all that is said and done, I find myself sitting around quietly once more, sinking deeper into the consciousness that is me.
This is a rather strange feeling---to be able to just sink deep and feel the sensuality of feeling simultaneously from all the active senses that I have. From the visual (looking at the screen), to the aural (the soft click-clack of the scissor-keys), to the tactile (the soft breeze from the ventilator), and to the olfactory (the sweet smell of summer sweat lingering), I can feel them all with ease---it is almost as though I am aware of all these extensions that make up my body.
One of the things that I have grown to realise and appreciate is that I seem to know my body much better than before. For instance, I can now decide without trying what my body is capable/incapable of doing. I am also learning to have a better feel on where my head is positioned, so that I can easily dodge my head without causing too big of a movement, which can harm the already fragile neck.
But sensualities aside, the one thing that I seem to have cultivated over the years is the strange air of detachment. It is an oxymoron no doubt---how can I be both immersed within myself and be detached at the same time? But like many things in life, this one has a straightforward answer---I just let the signals from the senses flow through my being without attempting to make sense of them. This is a rather interesting concept though, since for most people, when they sense something, it is more often than not that they try to assign some meaning to the feeling, and even to ``process'' the signal as quickly as they can so that they can always be immersive in the world.
That's where I start to differ from the normal person.
You see, I've never really felt at one with the world in the sense that I feel belonged. It didn't begin this way of course and is a phenomenon that is of a more recent vintage if I dare say. Life, with all its ups and downs, have made me walk around this Earth as an avatar, walking close to other people, but never walking with them. Now that Ida has officially broken up with me (and for a good enough time too I might add), I think that it is safe enough for me to reveal the revelation that I had.
I have known almost 4 months earlier today that we were heading for a break-up. I just chose to not believe it.
How I know about this is beyond my reasoning---call it a gut reaction. Somehow I could sense the drift earlier on---the preternatural ease in which I can sense bad events is a trait that I have mostly kept tucked away until now.
Perhaps I am truly an avatar, a kind of supernatural being walking within the mortal realm, with a natural draw for both the miraculous and the condemned, and that somehow establishes some kind of cosmic balance that is beyond the level of human comprehension. Of course, it is also equally likely that I'm just a nut job and all that is said and done are just a bunch of coincidences.
Yet again I digress... it was a good thing that we broke up the time we did. At the very least, I managed to purge all the negative emotions out of myself within the early stages of my work (and also preparation for the next phase of my career/life), and to perhaps seal away the broken heart inside somewhere safe so that it can heal over more completely and be ready to accept the true love that might come its way again. But that is the future, and clairvoyance I have not.
So who am I actually? I cannot give a straightforward answer. I am who I am, I am not who I appear to be, and I am not who I think I might be. How does the future hold for me? Again, I appeal to the lack of clairvoyance, but the future is not bleak---there is much work to be done and much good to perform; it is in some senses a blessing to move onward without emotional baggages weighing one down.
That all said and done, the reason why I was feeling really down in the period succeeding the break-up is that the feeling felt then was not of a girlfriend breaking up with a boyfriend---it felt more like a wife of many years divorcing the husband, despite him being faithful and caring for her. That is the depth of my love for Ida, that is how much she affects me, both good and not-so-good. How about now, one might ask; how do I feel now and why do I seem a little calmer? I have not forgotten about Ida---far from it, I remember her even more. But the things I remember have the meanings changed over time to lessen the blows and the amount of effect they have on my affect. Indeed, one of the remedies of a break-up that is available in lore is to cast everything that reminds one of the other away so as to start afresh---I choose to learn to face things that remind me of her head-on so that I will actually end up dealing with the blow dealt instead of just denying myself the proper grieving.
Again, I digress.
Future huh... I've given my predictions. On the subject of my love life, I am not going to think too much about it---once one hits 25 years old (which I will be in nearly 5 more months) and is still unattached, chances are there will be little hope left about the love life anyway, so I might as well concentrate on doing things that I can still do. More pertinently, given the volatility of the macro-state-of-affairs, it is unlikely that any relationship begun here will lead to fruition; a similar argument can be made about when I'm not in Singapore.
So at the end of the day, I suppose that it is into the hands of Fate that will see if I end up settling down in this life or not.
This is a rather strange feeling---to be able to just sink deep and feel the sensuality of feeling simultaneously from all the active senses that I have. From the visual (looking at the screen), to the aural (the soft click-clack of the scissor-keys), to the tactile (the soft breeze from the ventilator), and to the olfactory (the sweet smell of summer sweat lingering), I can feel them all with ease---it is almost as though I am aware of all these extensions that make up my body.
One of the things that I have grown to realise and appreciate is that I seem to know my body much better than before. For instance, I can now decide without trying what my body is capable/incapable of doing. I am also learning to have a better feel on where my head is positioned, so that I can easily dodge my head without causing too big of a movement, which can harm the already fragile neck.
But sensualities aside, the one thing that I seem to have cultivated over the years is the strange air of detachment. It is an oxymoron no doubt---how can I be both immersed within myself and be detached at the same time? But like many things in life, this one has a straightforward answer---I just let the signals from the senses flow through my being without attempting to make sense of them. This is a rather interesting concept though, since for most people, when they sense something, it is more often than not that they try to assign some meaning to the feeling, and even to ``process'' the signal as quickly as they can so that they can always be immersive in the world.
That's where I start to differ from the normal person.
You see, I've never really felt at one with the world in the sense that I feel belonged. It didn't begin this way of course and is a phenomenon that is of a more recent vintage if I dare say. Life, with all its ups and downs, have made me walk around this Earth as an avatar, walking close to other people, but never walking with them. Now that Ida has officially broken up with me (and for a good enough time too I might add), I think that it is safe enough for me to reveal the revelation that I had.
I have known almost 4 months earlier today that we were heading for a break-up. I just chose to not believe it.
How I know about this is beyond my reasoning---call it a gut reaction. Somehow I could sense the drift earlier on---the preternatural ease in which I can sense bad events is a trait that I have mostly kept tucked away until now.
Perhaps I am truly an avatar, a kind of supernatural being walking within the mortal realm, with a natural draw for both the miraculous and the condemned, and that somehow establishes some kind of cosmic balance that is beyond the level of human comprehension. Of course, it is also equally likely that I'm just a nut job and all that is said and done are just a bunch of coincidences.
Yet again I digress... it was a good thing that we broke up the time we did. At the very least, I managed to purge all the negative emotions out of myself within the early stages of my work (and also preparation for the next phase of my career/life), and to perhaps seal away the broken heart inside somewhere safe so that it can heal over more completely and be ready to accept the true love that might come its way again. But that is the future, and clairvoyance I have not.
So who am I actually? I cannot give a straightforward answer. I am who I am, I am not who I appear to be, and I am not who I think I might be. How does the future hold for me? Again, I appeal to the lack of clairvoyance, but the future is not bleak---there is much work to be done and much good to perform; it is in some senses a blessing to move onward without emotional baggages weighing one down.
That all said and done, the reason why I was feeling really down in the period succeeding the break-up is that the feeling felt then was not of a girlfriend breaking up with a boyfriend---it felt more like a wife of many years divorcing the husband, despite him being faithful and caring for her. That is the depth of my love for Ida, that is how much she affects me, both good and not-so-good. How about now, one might ask; how do I feel now and why do I seem a little calmer? I have not forgotten about Ida---far from it, I remember her even more. But the things I remember have the meanings changed over time to lessen the blows and the amount of effect they have on my affect. Indeed, one of the remedies of a break-up that is available in lore is to cast everything that reminds one of the other away so as to start afresh---I choose to learn to face things that remind me of her head-on so that I will actually end up dealing with the blow dealt instead of just denying myself the proper grieving.
Again, I digress.
Future huh... I've given my predictions. On the subject of my love life, I am not going to think too much about it---once one hits 25 years old (which I will be in nearly 5 more months) and is still unattached, chances are there will be little hope left about the love life anyway, so I might as well concentrate on doing things that I can still do. More pertinently, given the volatility of the macro-state-of-affairs, it is unlikely that any relationship begun here will lead to fruition; a similar argument can be made about when I'm not in Singapore.
So at the end of the day, I suppose that it is into the hands of Fate that will see if I end up settling down in this life or not.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Really Random Musings of a Drunken Geek
So not too long ago, there was a drinking session, and for the first time in my life, I got pretty damn drunk. Strangely, instead of acting like a ``normal'' drunk (being violent, passing out completely, being lecherous etc), I ended up ``looking really sad'' and taking out my pen and notepad and write a lot. The last I remembered, I was puking from downing the Graveyard, and needed help home.
So the ten-dollar question is: what the heck did I write while drunk?
Here's a transcription of what I could make out from the [foul smelling] manuscripts. The transcriptions will be by the ``page number'', and each line here corresponds to a physical line of text. Editor remarks are [as usual] stored in square brackets. Here we go:
Page 1
Alright, enough for now. Now I know that I make a really boring drunk.
Geez...
So the ten-dollar question is: what the heck did I write while drunk?
Here's a transcription of what I could make out from the [foul smelling] manuscripts. The transcriptions will be by the ``page number'', and each line here corresponds to a physical line of text. Editor remarks are [as usual] stored in square brackets. Here we go:
Page 1
It has been a while since IPage 2
was so drunk. In some ways it is a
a good response---at the very least, it
allows me to write things that I would not
otherwise.
The music is playing loud, a
not altogether bad experience. Somet[imes]
I think that being drunk has it[s]
purpose---it allows the innermost
feelings show with little inhibitions.
It is kind of sad in some way [that]
I cannot be drunk like a normal person
when I am severely trying[?], I end up
very [ed: garbled] and in some ways
[ed: garbled]. There are many things to do
yet I realise that the amount of control
over myself is fast diminishing. I[n]
some ways, this is rather sad since
even I'm seemingly drunk, I can
write some stuff.
Life sucks[?] ass[?] in some ways.[?] There[?]
are so many things that the[?] self[?] have[?]
little control over. It is rather sad
actually to be writing While one is
[some]what drunk is probably one of the sad[dest]
things to do, considering everything.[?]
At[?] the[?] very least I am in control[?]
over my faculties left of[?] what[?] is[?] probably[?]
timed[?] as almost 15 to 20 minutes of
writing[?] nicely[?]. The day is long and[?]
the future is bleak[?] is[?] luscal[?], it is
to determine if what I'm writingPage 3
is remotely coherent or even readable.
The downing of the graveyard in one
shot seems to be the big mistake, [ed: ink blotch]
I find myself unable to control my
impulses as readily as I want to.
This is not a good evening.
Eventually, I will [ed: garbled]
to the alcohol what that [ed: garbled] is not
[ed: garbled]. I will faglth[?] to, and with,
eventually.
It is all about being able to
purge the alcohol then the body it will
take a while, but I will be fine.
I must be fine---I'm controlling
all the input and output. I will be fine.
Taking the alcohol[?] will be fine.
I can take it. It is just a while.
I will be fine. Do not touch me.
Writing. Writing is all that is left
of this consciousness. Apparently I
can[?] still[?] think somewhat. Things are
[ed: garbled] writing[?] writing[?]. It seems
that my pants may have
got hit by one of the
throw up. This is sad
is sad in some way
is quite sad but true[?]. It
them[?]. I am fine I think[?]. This is just
a way towards the end
of[?] all[?] the sadness[?] and at[?] this[?]
particular[?] instance[?] the[?] end[?].
If the outcome is all about whatPage 4
one makes of the future[?], the people
seem rather unrelenting in that [ed: missing]
writing but at times, stays the [ed: missing]
[ed: garbled] I want to talk. This
is true---there's just so
many things that I want[?] to
think about. The crowd [ed: garbled]
it is in some sense true[?] about[?]
things---many[?] of the meets[?]
eye[?] and[?] the discomfort of[?] becoming[?]
a few of sad[?] ending[?] but [ed: garbled]
in reality, it is a new beginning [ed: garbled]
a beginning where I will quickly
forget about what it is[?] I
truly[?] want to be able to know[?]
what I hear---it is [ed: garbled] is more
sense to be able to completely work[?]
is something that I have[?] thought[?]
I would be able[?] to do.
Moreover---at the end of the day
even after downing the graveyard
of [ed: garbled] remembered the end is almost[?] in
sight[?]---the content of the alcohol[?]
is naturally stronger[?] that I have
little[?] ideas for[?] how much
alcohol that is in the graveyard. At
the very least I think that I am
rather sober[?] at the moment---that[?] was[?]
of more of the alcohol to [ed: garbled]
I can say something that is a little more
coherent this point is true,So you might ask, why no pictures of the manuscript? And I will answer, because it is rather useless to put them up---they are unreadable, that's why the transcripts exist.
all that I want to do is just to
go sleep---the graveyard is a rather
strong drink no matter how you look
at it. Eventually, I will have to wake
up from this dream and get away so
that I can get the things I
want.
It is noisy in here---it is
quite intolerable. I should have just
gone home a long time ago.
Alright, enough for now. Now I know that I make a really boring drunk.
Geez...
Saturday, August 08, 2009
End of Conference Week
Sometimes I look back and reflect upon my actions both big and small---this occurs regularly, particularly when I have little on my mind. In the past, I would be rather hard upon myself and end up thinking that I have screwed up big time ever since the past, and that often leaves me in a rather depressed state.
Time passed and with each new experience I gain from the many facets of life, I slowly learn to ease a little on myself. I mean, sure, there are some things that I could have done differently, but then again there're so many insights that can be gleaned with the benefit of hindsight. Being hard on oneself is sometimes useful, since it forces the self to actually actively seek improvement to prevent reoccurrences of mistakes, but like many things in life, being overly hard on the self is actually detrimental, since one becomes obsessed with the what-ifs and end up forgetting about living in the present and planning for the future.
Part of my character flaw is that I do tend to brood a lot. Ever since Ida left me, I have started to brood less over time, starting from the completely heartbroken phase initially to something that is still sad, but not so sad that I am completely unable to function at all. Perhaps the most apt adjective here is ``resigned''---I am resigned with the outcome that there is little that I can do right now to recover what was lost, and that I have realised in some ways that I need to find a new meaning in life just to move on.
Today was kind of fun. It is the last day of the EMNLP 2009, which occurred after the ACL-IJCNLP 2009, which are conferences for the natural language processing and computing linguistics community. For the whole week, I was basically running around from talk to talk, listening to what that foremost researchers have found out and have shared with the world. By Wednesday though, I was feeling rather drained, and so it felt really great that today was the last day of the conferences. I learnt much, for sure, and basically round up the day with a meeting of the old classmates.
Like most class outings, it was mildly awkward in the beginning, since the cliques basically sealed the earlier interactions among folks. It was great to see them though---it has been a while since I have met many of my old classmates. But of course, those who basically liked treating me invisible continued to keep me invisible, which is fine with me even though I might think that the action was rather petty. It is rather hard to believe that the folks I saw tonight were part of the same class back in 2002---everyone seemed to be much older, yet there were still traces of the old character trait that lies just below the surface of the skin. But I digress...
Perhaps I can write more again some other time.
Time passed and with each new experience I gain from the many facets of life, I slowly learn to ease a little on myself. I mean, sure, there are some things that I could have done differently, but then again there're so many insights that can be gleaned with the benefit of hindsight. Being hard on oneself is sometimes useful, since it forces the self to actually actively seek improvement to prevent reoccurrences of mistakes, but like many things in life, being overly hard on the self is actually detrimental, since one becomes obsessed with the what-ifs and end up forgetting about living in the present and planning for the future.
Part of my character flaw is that I do tend to brood a lot. Ever since Ida left me, I have started to brood less over time, starting from the completely heartbroken phase initially to something that is still sad, but not so sad that I am completely unable to function at all. Perhaps the most apt adjective here is ``resigned''---I am resigned with the outcome that there is little that I can do right now to recover what was lost, and that I have realised in some ways that I need to find a new meaning in life just to move on.
Today was kind of fun. It is the last day of the EMNLP 2009, which occurred after the ACL-IJCNLP 2009, which are conferences for the natural language processing and computing linguistics community. For the whole week, I was basically running around from talk to talk, listening to what that foremost researchers have found out and have shared with the world. By Wednesday though, I was feeling rather drained, and so it felt really great that today was the last day of the conferences. I learnt much, for sure, and basically round up the day with a meeting of the old classmates.
Like most class outings, it was mildly awkward in the beginning, since the cliques basically sealed the earlier interactions among folks. It was great to see them though---it has been a while since I have met many of my old classmates. But of course, those who basically liked treating me invisible continued to keep me invisible, which is fine with me even though I might think that the action was rather petty. It is rather hard to believe that the folks I saw tonight were part of the same class back in 2002---everyone seemed to be much older, yet there were still traces of the old character trait that lies just below the surface of the skin. But I digress...
Perhaps I can write more again some other time.
Sunday, August 02, 2009
I Do Not Fear Once More
No matter what they say, I think that at the end of it all, it is really hard to truly get over someone whom you have spent a good portion of your life, energy and focus on---as humans, we are conditioned to behave in this way. I suppose that is how we end up in families and societies in the first place.
So many things have happened so far---as each moment passes, I find that I just live through it in a rather soulless way. I honestly do not know how to feel anymore, and have probably gotten to the point where I am just resigned to my fate, perhaps?
Interesting though, how I am reacting now. I basically started this post feeling extremely depressed, yet as I write more and more, I find that there is a certain uplifting feeling that is overcoming that depression. This feeling---it is strong, it is positive.
I do not fear once more.
I'll probably talk more later.
So many things have happened so far---as each moment passes, I find that I just live through it in a rather soulless way. I honestly do not know how to feel anymore, and have probably gotten to the point where I am just resigned to my fate, perhaps?
Interesting though, how I am reacting now. I basically started this post feeling extremely depressed, yet as I write more and more, I find that there is a certain uplifting feeling that is overcoming that depression. This feeling---it is strong, it is positive.
I do not fear once more.
I'll probably talk more later.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Mental Monologue [Sort of]
Secretly, I use IRC channels as a means of keeping time. I suppose that's one of the reasons why I was on #cslounge a lot; partially it was for the company, partially because it helped to keep the time. So in that sense, even though I'm not on #cslounge for now, I still hang out on some other IRC channel just to get some news (and pretty scrolling text when the words come fast and furious!) and also the time.
So, where was I? Well, this writing is going to be very rambling, since I don't really have a set idea to talk about---I'm just doing one of those ``free association'' things that Freud used to champion about. Somehow I feel a certain sense of calm within me; I think that it is mildly odd, to say the least, since not too long ago I was still in a rather disquiet mood. Yet today I find some semblence of serenity within me---is this the proverbial ``eye of the storm'', where beyond the level in which I currently exist lies yet another tumultuous time?
Tsk tsk... strange thoughts about the future creep upon me again.
But then again, must there be a rough time after every calm? Similarly, must every calm be followed by a rough time? What makes a person feel discomforted, what makes a person feel at ease? Do different people have different notions of comfort? Is life all about living, or is it about living good, or worse, is it about living a most decadent form?
Rebirth, cycle of life. Looking forwards, reflecting upon the past. Confusing juxtaposed emotions sealed by the eerie calm of the rational. Hmm... that last idea seems rather conceivable, that within the supposed calm that I am exhibiting, there lies the confused emotions that have been draining me of my energy for the entire time.
But emotions and emotive content, do they really matter at all? Is happiness something truly to be desired? Can the happiness found truly be eternal? What is eternal? Does there exist everlasting love? Is everlasting happiness a myth? Is suffering the only path to salvation? What salvation is there? What salvation are we talking about? Are we more interested in this life, or the next?
Pfft... so many questions. I know that many of them sound like rehashes of each other, but sue me. Sometimes it is hard to not think about questions like this, yet at others, the very nature of the questions seem to make up the essence of the underlying structure that begets the situation.
Alright, I suppose I'm starting to not make any sense anymore. But... whatever... I suppose? Life is strange on so many levels; maybe there is some other way of looking at it that I have not figured out yet.
Maybe some day I can figure things out better...
So, where was I? Well, this writing is going to be very rambling, since I don't really have a set idea to talk about---I'm just doing one of those ``free association'' things that Freud used to champion about. Somehow I feel a certain sense of calm within me; I think that it is mildly odd, to say the least, since not too long ago I was still in a rather disquiet mood. Yet today I find some semblence of serenity within me---is this the proverbial ``eye of the storm'', where beyond the level in which I currently exist lies yet another tumultuous time?
Tsk tsk... strange thoughts about the future creep upon me again.
But then again, must there be a rough time after every calm? Similarly, must every calm be followed by a rough time? What makes a person feel discomforted, what makes a person feel at ease? Do different people have different notions of comfort? Is life all about living, or is it about living good, or worse, is it about living a most decadent form?
Rebirth, cycle of life. Looking forwards, reflecting upon the past. Confusing juxtaposed emotions sealed by the eerie calm of the rational. Hmm... that last idea seems rather conceivable, that within the supposed calm that I am exhibiting, there lies the confused emotions that have been draining me of my energy for the entire time.
But emotions and emotive content, do they really matter at all? Is happiness something truly to be desired? Can the happiness found truly be eternal? What is eternal? Does there exist everlasting love? Is everlasting happiness a myth? Is suffering the only path to salvation? What salvation is there? What salvation are we talking about? Are we more interested in this life, or the next?
Pfft... so many questions. I know that many of them sound like rehashes of each other, but sue me. Sometimes it is hard to not think about questions like this, yet at others, the very nature of the questions seem to make up the essence of the underlying structure that begets the situation.
Alright, I suppose I'm starting to not make any sense anymore. But... whatever... I suppose? Life is strange on so many levels; maybe there is some other way of looking at it that I have not figured out yet.
Maybe some day I can figure things out better...
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Hugs
So, while I look at the currently seemingly broken ``new post'' page of Blogger and typing out this line, I wonder: have I really hit rock bottom this time? If I have truly hit rock bottom, then this is probably the first time ever that I am so utterly defeated in something that I had done.
I am sort of past the stage where I can actually justify/rationalise/explain away why I am behaving the way I am. At this point, what I need the most is probably not some one to talk to, but just someone to hold on to for a little while just to feel that special human touch that words don't seem to be able to put together well.
Unfortunately, finding someone who is willing to give me a hug is neigh impossible where I am now, all because of stupid societal ``conventions''.
I am a big fan of hugs---I don't believe that there is anything more comforting than a hug when someone is down. It doesn't matter what gender the person giving the hug is---as long as it is a hug, it is something wonderful and magical that always help the person being hugged, reminding him/her that things are probably not so bad. In many senses, a hug is representative of the lowering of the guard, the literal welcoming of someone into one's arms to show that one is a friend, and the most direct way of demonstrating support and care for someone.
Yet, stupid societal ``conventions'' deny the expression of such a basic human emotion in my current location.
Contrary to popular belief, hugs need not convey any form of sexual interest at all. More generally, there are at least two types of hugs, namely the full-contact hug which includes having most of the two participants' bellies touching, and the half-contact hug, where it is only the upper torso of the participants are in contact. Obviously, full-contact hugs are reserved for very intimate encounters, and this is the hug that everyone seems to be thinking of when the unqualified term is used. Yet that is not the most useful hug by a large degree---the half-contact one is infinitely more useful. It is friendly yet unsexual---there is closeness yet intimacy is not hinted upon. In short, it is a nice way of showing that one cares for another person (probably a friend) without planting the ``wrong ideas'' in the other person's head.
Of course being the cynic I am, I tend to criticise society for denying me and many others of the chance to have a nice hug to calm oneself down. But there is most certainly another way to look at it---I am too weak to be able to stand against emotional blows without resorting to support through hugs. This is also obviously the defeatist perspective that dominates my soul at the moment, something that I cannot easily shake away like that.
So, in view of what I have said here, if you are a friend of mine who happen to see me walking around, please don't hesitate to just walk up to me and give me a hug, and help me remind my rational self that the world is still revolving, and the end is not here yet, and there is much to be done, and that moping around is not going to help. A hug is all it takes---you don't need to go searching for the right words to say---I will understand perfectly when you give me that hug.
Until next time.
I am sort of past the stage where I can actually justify/rationalise/explain away why I am behaving the way I am. At this point, what I need the most is probably not some one to talk to, but just someone to hold on to for a little while just to feel that special human touch that words don't seem to be able to put together well.
Unfortunately, finding someone who is willing to give me a hug is neigh impossible where I am now, all because of stupid societal ``conventions''.
I am a big fan of hugs---I don't believe that there is anything more comforting than a hug when someone is down. It doesn't matter what gender the person giving the hug is---as long as it is a hug, it is something wonderful and magical that always help the person being hugged, reminding him/her that things are probably not so bad. In many senses, a hug is representative of the lowering of the guard, the literal welcoming of someone into one's arms to show that one is a friend, and the most direct way of demonstrating support and care for someone.
Yet, stupid societal ``conventions'' deny the expression of such a basic human emotion in my current location.
Contrary to popular belief, hugs need not convey any form of sexual interest at all. More generally, there are at least two types of hugs, namely the full-contact hug which includes having most of the two participants' bellies touching, and the half-contact hug, where it is only the upper torso of the participants are in contact. Obviously, full-contact hugs are reserved for very intimate encounters, and this is the hug that everyone seems to be thinking of when the unqualified term is used. Yet that is not the most useful hug by a large degree---the half-contact one is infinitely more useful. It is friendly yet unsexual---there is closeness yet intimacy is not hinted upon. In short, it is a nice way of showing that one cares for another person (probably a friend) without planting the ``wrong ideas'' in the other person's head.
Of course being the cynic I am, I tend to criticise society for denying me and many others of the chance to have a nice hug to calm oneself down. But there is most certainly another way to look at it---I am too weak to be able to stand against emotional blows without resorting to support through hugs. This is also obviously the defeatist perspective that dominates my soul at the moment, something that I cannot easily shake away like that.
So, in view of what I have said here, if you are a friend of mine who happen to see me walking around, please don't hesitate to just walk up to me and give me a hug, and help me remind my rational self that the world is still revolving, and the end is not here yet, and there is much to be done, and that moping around is not going to help. A hug is all it takes---you don't need to go searching for the right words to say---I will understand perfectly when you give me that hug.
Until next time.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Pathetic
Pathetic. The worst form of pathetic.
That is the only form of description that I have for myself. Why am I still sore over what has happened? Why am I still so annoyed at things? Why do I still feel so uncomfortable?
More importantly, why am I angry with myself?
The only answer to these is just the simple word of ``pathetic''---the all encompassing derogatory word that fully describes what I have become. The loss of a love ended with the consequent loss of a spine, which further led to the whole wallow-in-self-pity phase that I seem to currently be in.
Yesterday was an interesting Friday; I met up with some of my old class mates. The evening passed by innocently enough, with the usual banter that is expected from a self-proclaimed eccentric. Yet as the night wore on, and the company filtering down to only a fraction of what we originally began with, the most innocent of questions triggered the most intense denial and detachment that I have ever experienced.
Pathetic indeed.
She's not here anymore, not in person, not even in spirit. I mean nothing to her now---she might say that we are still friends, but personally I think that the mere thought that we are still friends at this stage is just wishful thinking---I have not gotten over her completely yet. Yet despite her conspicuous absence, why does she still have so much power and influence over my psyche, if not for the fact that I am being pathetic?
In some senses, being with her was among the happiest moments in my life, yet now I find that the very things that helped me pass my life happier then were rapidly being robbed from me. Already I find myself stifled in #cslounge, with her appearing ever so often and trying to be ``in the crowd'' of the misfits; and then there is the Facebook, which essentially plastered my home page with ``news feeds'' of her conversations with many of those friends that I introduced her to, and not to mention all the image/picture tags of her having fun with these same people, people whom she would not have talked to were it not through my introduction.
Needless to say, I tried hiding as many of these ``news feeds'' as much as possible. And I have actually given up on #cslounge---there's no point in trying to reclaim what was my original haunting ground, since it's probably more true that she will have more need to talk to those people than I do. The truth is, I've never really felt close to anyone, even having lived for more than 2 decades.
So utterly pathetic and useless as a human.
And of course, there are other things to worry about, like the fact that there is the off-chance that my plans go awry, and might not be able to enter graduate school as desired. But I suppose at the very least, I can still plan exigencies for these situations better than other things.
Oh, and I talked to Ida recently, and was pathetic enough to tell her that I wanted her back. I suppose nothing else can top the list of pathetic actions that I have taken so far.
This world is starting to lose its colour---the more I stay in it, the more I find that it has descended into an amorphous blob of greys. I see people walking past me, walking next to me, yet I do not feel that anyone truly wants to walk with me. Sure, I might have one or two close friends, but some day even they will get tired of my patheticalness and choose to carry on leading their own lives away from mine.
Divergence in life path is something that I accept as the eventual outcome from most of life's interactions.
Perhaps being tethered to another person emotionally is not something that I was designed or equipped to do---things always seem to go wrong at the worst possible time. Maybe part of the reason is the whole timing issue. Sadu asked me last night, when is my next ``hunting season'' beginning. And the only answer I gave him was, not for a long time.
Such a pathetic reply, almost expected from a pathetic person like me.
That is the only form of description that I have for myself. Why am I still sore over what has happened? Why am I still so annoyed at things? Why do I still feel so uncomfortable?
More importantly, why am I angry with myself?
The only answer to these is just the simple word of ``pathetic''---the all encompassing derogatory word that fully describes what I have become. The loss of a love ended with the consequent loss of a spine, which further led to the whole wallow-in-self-pity phase that I seem to currently be in.
Yesterday was an interesting Friday; I met up with some of my old class mates. The evening passed by innocently enough, with the usual banter that is expected from a self-proclaimed eccentric. Yet as the night wore on, and the company filtering down to only a fraction of what we originally began with, the most innocent of questions triggered the most intense denial and detachment that I have ever experienced.
Pathetic indeed.
She's not here anymore, not in person, not even in spirit. I mean nothing to her now---she might say that we are still friends, but personally I think that the mere thought that we are still friends at this stage is just wishful thinking---I have not gotten over her completely yet. Yet despite her conspicuous absence, why does she still have so much power and influence over my psyche, if not for the fact that I am being pathetic?
In some senses, being with her was among the happiest moments in my life, yet now I find that the very things that helped me pass my life happier then were rapidly being robbed from me. Already I find myself stifled in #cslounge, with her appearing ever so often and trying to be ``in the crowd'' of the misfits; and then there is the Facebook, which essentially plastered my home page with ``news feeds'' of her conversations with many of those friends that I introduced her to, and not to mention all the image/picture tags of her having fun with these same people, people whom she would not have talked to were it not through my introduction.
Needless to say, I tried hiding as many of these ``news feeds'' as much as possible. And I have actually given up on #cslounge---there's no point in trying to reclaim what was my original haunting ground, since it's probably more true that she will have more need to talk to those people than I do. The truth is, I've never really felt close to anyone, even having lived for more than 2 decades.
So utterly pathetic and useless as a human.
And of course, there are other things to worry about, like the fact that there is the off-chance that my plans go awry, and might not be able to enter graduate school as desired. But I suppose at the very least, I can still plan exigencies for these situations better than other things.
Oh, and I talked to Ida recently, and was pathetic enough to tell her that I wanted her back. I suppose nothing else can top the list of pathetic actions that I have taken so far.
This world is starting to lose its colour---the more I stay in it, the more I find that it has descended into an amorphous blob of greys. I see people walking past me, walking next to me, yet I do not feel that anyone truly wants to walk with me. Sure, I might have one or two close friends, but some day even they will get tired of my patheticalness and choose to carry on leading their own lives away from mine.
Divergence in life path is something that I accept as the eventual outcome from most of life's interactions.
Perhaps being tethered to another person emotionally is not something that I was designed or equipped to do---things always seem to go wrong at the worst possible time. Maybe part of the reason is the whole timing issue. Sadu asked me last night, when is my next ``hunting season'' beginning. And the only answer I gave him was, not for a long time.
Such a pathetic reply, almost expected from a pathetic person like me.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Time
The strange thing about confronting one's issues is that while the confrontation itself might be very painful in the beginning, in the long run, perhaps it will actually be a good thing for oneself. Here's how I look at it---if I never confront my fears to actually decide once and for all how screwy my perceptions are on the perceived fears, there is no way of knowing if the fears are warranted or not. In this case, I am referring to the various aspects of my life that are sort of falling apart as time goes by. Part of the reason why I am having some trouble here and there with regards to how exactly to feel could be that I didn't really choose to confront what was causing me all the grief---the moment I started to confront them one by one and take an active step forward towards better understanding what is going on, and also to determine the best cause of action, I start to feel less stressed out. In fact, I can even claim that I actually become more calm due to the relieving aspects of being able to talk through to see what is going on.
So, sure, life sucks, the sky is falling, the ground shakes too much, I'm dirt broke and out of love. But at the very least, I am still standing on my own two feet solidly on the ground. It is a rough patch---I'm still struggling to get through, but I will pull through somehow.
I always will. I just need more time.
So, sure, life sucks, the sky is falling, the ground shakes too much, I'm dirt broke and out of love. But at the very least, I am still standing on my own two feet solidly on the ground. It is a rough patch---I'm still struggling to get through, but I will pull through somehow.
I always will. I just need more time.
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