Why?

You know what, everyone keeps lumping together the desirable trait that is desirable for the more introverted persons among us, as being assertive.

As in, 'be more assertive!'.

Yeah?

I don't know. Been plagued with the so-called problem for a long time. They say I need to change. I followed it to a certain extent. Then I found out that I hate people. I revert to my more introverted self. The cycle repeats itself.

Why is that? Are my insecurities and disgust with a lot of what people usually do the reason why I'm still trapped in my introversion? Or am I just trying too hard to change myself, hence the backlash came as a result of trying something new? Just how rigid and/or adaptive I am really?

I don't know. But I'm not feeling too good looking where this is all heading too.

Something need to change. I'm working on it. The Holden Caulfield is still there inside my head, and he's still learning to make sense of the people around him.

In observation, I analyze

All the aspects of humanity that I despise

The real world, it is brutal

A passive (but somewhat proficient) worker does not hold out for long.

Technical proficiency is not worthy if the transmission of idea is weak.

Academic is not equal to working field.

Stick solely by the books, and you'll be pretty much dead.

Things I never bothered to pick up during my studies. How then does this solitary theorist survive out in the hands-on working life?

Surely it's not too late for change... Never too late for anything, until you're dead I suppose.

Changes

Changes. I've seen people changed, seemingly forgetting the past memories and the relationship they shared with others. I've seen people who have turned into entirely different person, for better and/or worse.

And to look at myself, I've changed as well. Changed quite a lot, for better and for worse. Some entirely due to my own will, some as a result of adapting to the environment around me.

Changes: is it good or bad?

Changes are unfortunately, inevitable. The problem is when we assigned values and merits to the changes, comparing it with the past. Changes are necessary, for stagnation means death.

But when I say that, I wonder how the same could be applied to human feelings. Yes, our feelings changes over time, and that is what hurts. It brings out the cliched phrase 'things aren't the way they were before'.

Now I've long finished with my Degree study, and currently working before I continue my Master study. No doubt, my perspective to people (and their to me) have changed drastically since then. What does the future hold, and what more circumstances would bring about changes?

I await the moment when marriage, raising children, growing up old and sick, and being dead as being the milestones which bring about further changes.

Changes: is it good or bad?

Chill to my left and fever to my right

if at least I could leave something behind here…

Since when did I dry up and lose everything?

Why is everyone so far away?

Would you promise me

Things they'd never change

Could you promise me

That things they'd stay the same?

Till when?

I always wondered when is it that you have to stop the things that you enjoy doing and declare, 'I'm too old for this'?

I see it as a tie between these two answers:

'When you're tied down with responsibilities'

;and

'When you don't find that you enjoy it as you used to'

This song is here just to I could use the blog title post... and vice versa

Long-suffering

I consider myself as being long-suffering.

I'm somewhat not keen on grand things. I don't believe in getting something without some sort of struggling or working. I'm not straightforward, preferring to take a path that winds up here and there before arriving to the destination. I can take beatings without any complaint.

With that being said, I'm somewhat comfortable with routine things, and is somewhat reluctant for changes. But on a long run, I don't like being too comfortable for too long. I need some sort of challenges. Something to work myself off; something to keep me occupied. I actually don't think a 'perfect' life is actually attainable.

And yet at the same time, at my own pace.

Ah, what the hell. I'm a masochist (albeit not in a conventional way the word is usually referred to).

I'm sorry

I lied. And I've become the spitting image of... a person whom I don't understand.

What have I become?

I can't keep up with this bullshit anymore. Because the truth is, I've let myself being held back by that nagging thought. In actuality, I'm pretty much all right with my current situation - I don't have any major sickness, say; or family problem; or financial ones - but this one dissatisfaction and angst have left me all strung up and in a disarray.

And I've taken the frustration out to someone else in that one moment. Say what I want, but I am not going to be a faggot and say 'tsch tsch, t'was a brief moment of madness, whoops'. Because that's not how it should be. It's more complicated; there's a lot factor underpinning it. And I am indeed an idiot for not solving the problem head on.

"Misunderstanding is deadly for a friendship" - says a certain he. Amen to that bro. And I'm going to do my part to clear that up. Because it ain't been doing no one any good, no.

In short: I'm sorry for being an idiot and making things more complicated than it is. I have become bad guy.

I'm sorry.

Filler

After a while, you're afraid a lot less.

Enjoy this Friday everyone. Going back to home after being away for 3 months.

I think I've kinda lost the mood to write short thoughts here at the moment. The daily chores have dulled my mind.

Time to challenge myself and do something new. AND BE AWESOME.

Honestly

Why the fuck am I still writing here and there?

When I started, it was to be something for me to practice my skill for what I perceive as academic skill. But then I decided to cast that aside and write on the things that excites me, things that I am deeply interested. And somewhere in the middle, the multitude of rants and rambles.

So what of it now?

I don't think any of my writing strikes as those which are deeply thought. Or maybe the opposite is actually true. I mean, why else would I read articles that starts with 'this is wordy', and I find it to be rather a moderate reading?

Readers are mysterious. Who the fuck knows what they're thinking? Or if they even bother to read whatever you write in the first place?

The thing is. I know a lot of people. A lot of people who are more eloquent at expressing their thoughts, and those who have a much more interesting perspective of the world. And thus, it's a great shame that they abandon their writing halfway, or even worse, they never actually go on to write properly (besides the small musing here and there on social websites)


So why am I still writing? I have no idea. It has become somewhat like a second nature to me, after reading. Because reading makes me think. And when I think, I want to write them down so that I could reflect on my thoughts.

One day, when I die and all, these thoughts of mine will be there to see (assuming the site make it that long). And to those who are reading it at that time:

Fuck you.

Some random (quasi) philosphical musing again

It might be obvious from some of my last few ramblings, but I'm interested - or, you could even say, obsessed - with the whole notion of how transient the human life is.

That is of course not saying much, since I'm more or less still stuck with some necessary chores and obligation for this short lifetime of mine. But at the very least, I try to stick by to the principle of Carpe Diem - seize the day - as much as I can. Live with no regrets, and all that.

And somewhat at the same time, I've begin to develop an interest in the philosophy of existentialism. Again, this isn't saying much, but it does seems to me a philosophy which strikes closer to home for men as opposed to nihilism (although it does seems those two are closely related).

I don't understand many many MANY of the things in this world (even the simpler ones - especially real time events and 'common senses'), but I'm keeping an open mind. I like to think - except that it somewhat take a toll in those little 'everyday' stuff which most people would take as self evident. But it's all right, I'll persevere.

Talking (or more to the point, listening) to people excites me, how they relate their stories, experiences, point of views.

Somewhere out there, there are actually a lot of people who shares your thoughts and views. The question is how to find them, and when you do, how to relate everything to a bigger picture.

In the meantime, I'll keep on writing. And thinking. These somewhat drives me forward. I can't afford to let myself stagnate - I refuse to. And be it may that it turns off other people, or if they find it barely comprehensible, but this is my way.

Quasi philosophical musing again. Think. Write. Reflect. Act. Seize the day.

Gosh.

Some people

You know, I just had a realization that I have not known (intimately) too many homosexuals throughout my short period in life.

Though curiously, my first encounter with a (closet?) homosexuals was about ten or so years ago, when I know of this one classmate who wrote about how he's always thinking of this one other guy (who is also a classmate).


I made this point to mention on those homosexuals who went on with their life quietly, without causing an uproar ala those celebrities (I'm sure you could think of a few). I don't exactly claim myself totally open on this subject, but I'm somewhat curious what goes on in their life:

When did they came to realize this? Were they open about it? If so, was the rejection severe? Did the fact was disclosed to family members?

'cause lets be honest, no matter how open a society is, these guys (and gals) get to be the subject of jokes and laughing stock among the straights.

This is not meant to incite an uproar; I'm merely pondering on it, is all.