For a Good Cause...
couple months ago, when I was placed under tremendous stress, I was ready to give up. (Yes, tremendous stress.) (Friends can attest to that.)
Why I held on, I will never know. Amazing how much a blur my life is. What's more amazing is that I don't even know how I make my decisions. (Something that's prolly more amazing than that is how I don't even know my own self.)
Back then—I think it was right around March—I found myself desperate. I asked God for signs and He gave them to me. Why I decided against doing what God's signs said, again, I will never know. Right now, I feel stupid. God sent signs, which would be equivalent to Him shouting answers to me, and I chose to... ignore them.
Remind me again why I did that?
Good news is I stopped blaming God for all the crap that happens in my life. The follow up cheer would be that I really don't care anymore. Shhh happens. Sure, it happens to me more often than not but hey, it doesn't really matter, does it now? Don't get me wrong, to some extent I still care about what goes on in my life but it isn't the way I used to care about things.
Funny thing is that I took this quiz thingy or whatever to find out what my "theme song" is and as it turns out, it's Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd. Whoopee. It's like the universe finally gets me or whatever.
Your Theme Song is Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd
"There is no pain, you are receding.
A distant ships smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves."
You haven't been feeling a lot lately, and you think that's a good thing.
The comfortable part is nice... but you should really work on numb.
Well, yeah. Of course I think being numb is a good thing. Granted, half the stuff I go through wouldn't be equal to that of the hungry children in Somalia but it kind of helps if I don't feel anything anymore.
Over the past few weeks, I've wanted to suffer from Alexithymia. (It literally means “no words for emotion.”) (Thank you, wiseGeek.)
What would I give to become permanently numb.
Post Script
To you, I probably don't have real problems. I'm still nineteen, and my age probably entitles me to believe that problems are problems regardless of their fundamental natures. If it's something I lose sleep over, then it's real as hell to me.
This is one of my infamous moments wherein I know I have to study but I find myself doing almost everything just to stall. School activities were never my idea of fun. Unless of course it involved my friends and social loafing but we hardly ever get to do those moments anymore.
So I haven’t posted in what feels like forever. (Give or take three weeks but “forever” could be relative, right?) (Lol.)
Within the span of three weeks, I’ve—for the lack of a better term—morphed into someone/something who/that never resembled me since the moment I stepped into any academic institution. (I’ve been in school since I was two so that makes it… 17 years?) (Wow, I’m really old.)
I’ve learned how to study. I don’t even know why I’m into school and everything. I hate school. Hated it since the first time they woke me up early in the morning because I had class… and I was seven then.
I never got how the smart ones in class got all giddy after acing an exam. I never understood why they lived for that. (Probably because these people have a higher need for achievement.) (And I have a need for… what do I have a need for?) (Power?) (Affiliation?) (Do I have needs in the first place?) (Oh yeah, I have all those basic needs.)
So after a night of a lot of stupidity—in my part, of course... friends were too into talking about relationships, how it ruins your life, and how, and I quote, “Boys talk s***,” unquote—I realized that in the past three weeks while the newly discovered alter-ego, Super Nerd, took over, it was kind of like being drunk. I knew what I was doing (memorizing meanings like that of heuristics, differentiating groups from teams, etc.) but I had no control. I just did it because… heck, I don’t even know why I did it.
Maybe Prof. Tan’s speeches of motivation, never-settle-for-mediocre, you-are-competing-with-the-world finally got to me. Maybe I’ve finally lost it and I’ve unleashed the psycho in me but it so happens that it’s Super Nerd. Or maybe I’m creating diversions as not to go back to cutting myself. (Which I haven’t done in two months, by the way.) (You guys should be proud.)
I don’t really care as to why I’m doing this. What bothers me is that it’s another addition to the things I do with no apparent back-story to come with it.
Whatever. My life is just a series of events with no back-stories. Everything just happens. And all I’ve ever done is watch it happen.
Some sage, wise person, Master Splinter, Qui-Gon Jinn or whoever that was once said, “Only dead fish go with the flow,” but what about all those fishes who have no choice but to go with it? Not all fish were born Salmons. Maybe I’m one of those little fishes.
Or maybe I’m dead.
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