dolorous interludes.

Random Friday

If nothing of nature is grey, why should life be full of grey areas? I am suddenly filled with this sense of dislike, towards myself. I hate what ive become, and I hate how ive forgone religion to seek worthless philosophies that instill in me no hope whatsoever. I want to embrace moral consistency, to be filled with that sense of rightness and be at peace with myself for knowing that there are forbidden gardens that I should never enter lest I ruin my soul further. I want to see things with fresh new born eyes, with childlike simplicity and innocence, I want to feel joy instead of the perpetual humming of melancholy that sing with the winds this wintry December. I want to to turn back time, to erase all vile experiences that have left me tainted and broken and restore in me a new sense of self worth. But can I? Can I undo the irreversible, as with what destroyed dear Dorian? Can I live life with half baked passion and yet pursue moral consistency and obligations without feeling the adrenaline rush of being consumed wholly and the thrill of seeking what stirs in me this insatiable craving for what life can present me with if I disregarded all disdain for delightful decadence?

At first, the carpe diem that I wrote of was more like amazement, a sense of awe at how philosophers and writers could recognize and want to pursue these flights of fancy and red rose passion, and actually materialize dreams to fulfill our heart’s desires. At first, it seemed so appealing especially when I maintained a firm dislike towards all things absolute and people who refused or could not see the grey light. At first, I thought that this first step could still allow me to place both feet on two two platforms- to have both my cake and its icing; to live knowing that life ought to be that of wholesome passion, and yet, not cross lines that create boundaries in our lives for the purposes of all goodness and kindnesss. But I now know this is impossible. Or maybe, im more extreme than I knew myself to be. maybe I cant do balancing acts very well. Maybe this pursuit of Life and all of its exuberance and beauty and fluffy shortcakes and sinful chocolates have only made me older, fatigued, and afraid.

I want to be surprised by things I see or feel or hear or touch again. I remember the very first few chapters of Sophie’s World, where she spoke of how adults are never surprised by anything anymore because they’r so accustomed by what they see. Chidren on the other hand, oh the beauty in them, their quaint ability to imagine, to question, to wonder, oh its so lovely. I want it all back. Its funny how people of this age group tend to coat their bitching with a little scorn and disdain at others who are genuinely still surprised at certain things. They label them as being “immature” or even “childish” and “inexperienced”. I’m not saying that im not all of those things, and for once in my life, id actually like to be labeled that, but for a little while. But yes, I suppose there are many things in life that I ought to be thankful for as it is, as they always say, things could have been far worse. And for those who know me, I am a pretty sheltered kid, yes. Everything being provided for me, and how I generally acquire what I want and wish for(apart from men perhaps).

But I think, what disturbs me most is not the extent of what I now am, nor the level of experiences that have tainted me over these years. But rather, my drastic turn in my personal philosophy that we all need, to live by peacefully. I think I need to choose. I think there’s no a little bit of this and a little bit of that. But how can I! We are after all a multitude of personalities aren’t we? How can I merely make a choice whilst disregarding or forsaking the other that has made me who I am today(though I may not life it so)? It is like asking a man if he’d prefer to keep his arm or his leg.

And what about memories? Do we never really let go? I know a memory of a person or event does not mean we haven’t let go. But what does it mean by truly letting go? Do we feel no sensation or an ache at something we’v let go? Or is the ache an inevitable consequence of how much a person used to mean to us? Is there only one person in our lives who would make us feel complete, and what happens when you feel that a particular person is THE ONE for you but the other person feels otherwise? Does that necessarily mean that the person is no longer the one because the one means that you must both mutually feel that you’v found THE ONE in each other? Or are there a few right ones? Or people who come close to being the one? Do we stop searching? And if we never find that one, do we live life regretfully for having not chosen the second best around? Or does it all not matter at the end of the day; where when we come of age, we’ll be prompted by our natural instincts to just settle down with whoever we happen to be dating when that instinct kicks in? does that not make it all so sad, and.. mechanical then? Or am I, truly, being an idealist here? Why am I even asking myself so many questions when my stupid exam is in four days? Why am I plagued with this suddenness of great need to seek enlightenment over subjects that ive pondered about for years and years but never quite minded not knowing because ive always attributed knowing to “when the time comes”? Why am in such a great rush?

I feel tired. My mind felt like whirlpool of madness as I typed this entire document. My Friday nights never used to be like this, oh dear me, I am going out of my mind aren’t i.

posted by voyeur @ 11/20/2004 01:14:00 AM