Sunday, March 12, 2006

Conjuring up a pool of emotions

As I grew older, I realised my inability to remain adaptable with this life. Welcome to the modernist world, where people alike are skeptical, cynical, selfish, pessimistic. What's more? I hate the world more and more as each passing day delivers cruel knowledge of this reality.

I remember vividly how I was talking to my cousins while tutoring them yesterday, that the world is not a beautiful place, not the one that all those hippies make out to be. I got pretty carried away, highlighting to 14-year old kids about uncool nature of this event called WAR, along with the rotteness and misery it brings about. Since young, I was fascinated with WAR. My bookshelves were filled with Encyclopedias about WAR, and DO YOU KNOW? books about WAR. I was especially intrigued by WAR WORLD TWO, specifically the Japanese Occupation. I immersed myself in them, partly because of the curiosity, but mainly because of the kind of pictures I get while reading those books. Pictures in black and white, pictures of women crying, pictures of Kempetais beheading bypassers seem to appeal to me, in an awkward way. I was afraid, but I kept reading on and on. To the point I thought I was saddistic. It still is frightening now, how my childhood memories reappear both in my consciousness and my unconsciousness a.k.a sleeping. I have images of people torturing others, execution and whatnot, all related to the Japanese Occupation. I've never quite talked to anybody about these pictures, but sometimes these can be frightening. But these aren't the most frightening nightmares I've had. The worst ones were the shortest ones, ones of me falling down a flight of stairs. And kabooom! I would wake up in cold sweat (picture drama serials).

I also absolutely scorn the hedonistic way of living, just as I hate convenient choruses, convenient plot development, convenient endings. Watching 'Date Movie' last night just reaffirmed my opinions. I really thought the movie was bad. It wasn't very funny to begin with, which is really a cause for concern mainly cause humour can, and at most times, pretty successfully make up for the conveniences. It's trying attempting to seek answers to this world. Answers that nobody can answer me, answers that I try to conjure up in my mind through constant questioning, but only to end up with a whirlpool of emotions, mixed emotions, mainly painful, pessimistic ones. Sometimes I do enjoy the feeling of pain, of sorry, especially when I listen to good music (well, good in my opinion anyway). I like songs that make me cry, like Iris, like Best of You. They seem to liberate me from this knot thats binding me to this world, making me feel alive. What could be better, than feeling truly alive in this world.

That is why I want to be a musician. But a word exists in my dictionary that doesn't for most, which is FEAR. I'm afraid that my perceptions of myself are merely exaggerated by my dreams and desires. That I'm not really that good in reality, and all of these prohibit myself from stepping out of the Circle of Convenience to do what I really love to do.

I'd love to believe in myself, but sometimes its hard, especially when the world's so screwed.

posted@11:06 AM

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