KI on history

Exceedingly Troubled

Its probably too early and exceptionally unhelpful to consider this, but ruminating at night tends to bring these things up.

I'm 20 this year. By the time I'm done with army and start university, I'll be 22 - the girls (yes, they're still girly) will be 18. 4 years apart... not something wonderfully pleasant to consider. Supposing its a 4 year course, I'll be 26 by the time I start work - a rather senior age for a job market entrant - and I hope this won't pose another problem. My medical history/condition already gives too much cause for concern.

Facing it without a special someone would be harder, and my long-held conviction that the vissicitudes of life are only bearable with a soulmate becomes an imperative to find one. Friends and family are lovely, but different... it just is.

But that's still far away. I once told someone "keep the future in its place" - right back at me.

A Strange Lack

I love chilled pinkish apples straight from the fridge. Sweet and cool, the perfect thing to calm my hot impetuous self. While it lasts, I feel as if everything will be ok.

But there is a strange lack. Some of it I’ve mentioned, some of it I haven’t, still some I find hard to word. I plug the gap with food, but that doesn’t last. I distract myself with study and piano, but the feeling is only diminished, not dead. I’m dead, or at least it feels that way.

Adventure? A holiday? Spice in my life? Perhaps the spirit to do all that? Vibrancy, optimism, exuberance, liveliness – the things that make eyes smile and sparkle and lighten the heart, almost literally.

Is there a way to live beyond the A-levels, university, professional jobs and all? A way to live without losing one’s status and sense of place in this world? A way to live where the sun always rises in our hearts and countenance?

I clamour for pride of the straight and narrow while looking for ways to liven its drab. I remember Peachy, like the apple I described – only more mischievous, but always radiant. Maybe I need someone like her…

But these days, I’m too deep in my studies. Right?

.

Don’t we all want the world to smile upon us, admire us, smile upon us, want us. Statistically speaking, that is nearly impossible. Most will trudge through their ignominious lives and die the same way they lived.

I used to look at people, faces, eyes, as I walked around. These days, i catch myself looking at the ground. Sighing shoulders and heaving sighs, questions of worth and confidence dismissed under a cloud, a sense of futility.

There’s no point telling someone to love the status quo – we want the status quo to love us, to oblige our every whim and shift its cobblestones to meet our feet, walking where we please. Wealth, honour, love – the cardinal virtues of life that we all dream of but at the end of every mind-numbing day, we struggle to content ourselves with the little we have and think them much more than they really are. Delusion is a form of self-defense.

Another should-be: I should be making new notes exploring the theme of reputation in Othello. Instead I am exploring the recalcitrance of living. It gnaws and grates my mind demanding attention till my mind is fogged and all meaningful thought is lost in a sea of misery.

Clarity of thought – absent. No wonder the essays turn out confused. No wonder I only get Ds instead of Bs, Cs, and the occasional As of yesteryears. No wonder why I’m so afraid of handing up essays. No wonder I’m see my therapist today. No wonder I feel like cowering in a corner.

Because there’s no wonder left.

Insularity

“Why does government need theory?” It’s been some time since Mr. Spencer and I have covered anything that’s got to do with KI, but I don’t complain because it helps get my mind moving. I’m supposed to be doing the above essay question – a pretty easy one – but like all my other ‘supposed’s I’ve chucked it aside.

Anime, chocolate, punching bag, piano, food, anime. I’m slacking, I know. The fact is that I don’t feel like talking to anyone or doing anything. Insularity or, as James Joyce puts it, “the joy of solitude” is a euphemism for what is other wise escapism. It’s the school holidays, the tasks set for me and by me this week are pretty clear-cut. Getting to it is the hard part.

I’m 20 this year. I have pride befitting my age and masculine development. My role as a JC student is an affront to this, yet I would be two years younger and fit into my role. I wouldn’t have wasted those years then, or rather stolen from me, since I was forcibly removed on both accounts.

This blog is viewed by invitation only. So far, couzzie is the only person I’ve invited. I’m still thinking about who to invite… says something about my social life doesn’t it.

Back to anime.

Elucidating Clouded Thoughts

Among a long list of used to-s,I used to write pretty well. To be sure, it wasn’t Shakespeare or anything remotely beautiful, but it was factual and understandable. I haven’t done well in any assignment I’ve handed up this year – 50% isn’t acceptable to me – and for each disappointing piece that’s returned, I tore it up on the spot.

A thought struck me today. What if I was too anxious about sounding learned? Too anxious about making a good impression? Too caught up with how to present my argument that it simply collapsed into a convoluted mess. Or maybe it’s the Remeron that’s clouding my mind.

In the meantime, I cower in a corner, afraid to hand up any essay… the same fear that stopped me from handing up my work last year, the same fear that continues to haunt and haunt and haunt.

Eating for relief has its inflating effects – it takes more food to get the same sense of comfort. And there’s the more literal inflation, which proves tougher than all my physical training.

Stop.

Failure

My Windows Live Space is insufficient now. I have things I want to say, feelings that demand expression, but not publicly. I won’t have my sentiments cheapened by shouting them to the whole world. No, I’ll just whisper them here to people like you, people who really care, people I can trust, people who colour my life and memories.

I sat for my driving test today. I was drowsy, I hit the kerb on reverse, and after that I tuned out of everything. Demoralised, I stopped caring about safety checks and everything I failed.

I’ve been failing every test since February 2008. I’ve been working hard and failing. I know what is wrong, I know what is lacking, but I don’t know how to correct it – nor do the doctors – so I trudge along wearing a smile, walking with euphemistic composure. Euphemisms are still lies and I’ve become pretty good at them. “I am not what I am”

Right now, I’m supposed to be studying. I told myself I’d consolidate my notes and work on my thesis, capitalising on the yesterday’s industrious momentum. Then I failed my driving and got a heavy slap from reality. Every new failure reminds me of failures past, of futile efforts, of having fallen from some abstract grace. It is… disheartening.

Being with my friends and studying are the only two ‘real’ things that keep me going. Every now and then, I’d escape into an imaginary world – usually anime – and turn into a glutton while at it. I long for the confidence, eloquence and sense of purpose that defined me two years ago when I first began my JC life.

Let’s just leave it at that for now.