i am Looking at the Pound. a fifty, a twenty, a ten. queen elizabeth’s face smoothed over by my thumb. the smell of money inhaled – ah, now this can get addictive.
gee in all honesty, it is nauseating reading some blogs. i know – it is my choice. i choose to be nauseated, maybe a teeny bit because i can then berate people and talk them down, like i am doing now. but hey hey hey, i am not saying a thing about how plastic some entries can get.
they make you think: you must be kidding, this fulfils you? this warrants a smiley? come on, come off it, everything really appears like thornless roses, milk and cookies, strawberries and cream to you?! dont you have a pessimistic bone in you? hello, dont thoughts of you know, uh, futility or loneliness or disappointment or fear ever squeeze their way into that blooming bed of bright red roses? dont you have weeds.
take it whatever way you want, maybe i love to spread the gloom. haha, but without gloom, how do you know what joy is – yes you may jot that into the big book of epigrams.
anyway lil coward of me doesnt dare to post anything explicit about today’s meet-up or about the afterward – walls have ears and blogs are just plain loudspeakers. the contract-signing is on wednesday, i wonder if i should be heaving a sigh of relief or wiping sweat off my brows. im signing away six years upon return. but then again, theres no looking back now, what is the *^%* point of being so sure of everything, of being so in control of the future. where is the thrill of living.
that deserved an exclamation mark.
where is the thrill of living!
so head-on, you plunge, and do the best you can with the tools you have. you grab the opportunities that come your way, and you savour life in all its sweetness, as well as its bitter bile. life throws you lemons, you just bite your tongue, wince, and move on, classifying that moment under the tag of ‘memorable times’. everything looks somewhat rosy on hindsight, so will the grimiest, most trying period you are going through.
i cannot believe i had once been so grateful for being put through some crap. it feels like i was on some chemical high, some fleeting, dillusionary optimism that everything will be alright. because alright is subjective, and if you want if to be ‘alright’, things will be that way for you at least.
it seemed like the attaining of nirvana, gee. come out of a coma, and see the light. you vow never to step back there again, you are thankful for those periods because you would never have been able to empathise otherwise.
perhaps i still am thankful for experiences, good or bad. but i really wouldnt mind – really, wouldnt, mind – if life started becoming smooth-sailing. i promise, i will empathise still. i promise, i will be sympathetic. i promise, i will help the unfortunate. i promise, i will not take smooth sails for granted. i promise, i will not be self-centered. i promise, i will not forget the experiences. i promise, i will be good.
sounds like im striking some bargain with god, ennit. well, cmon i’ll fulfil my side of the bargain. i really, really will. i promise.
