Sunday, July 23, 2006
Life of a bourgeois
You know sometimes, I motivate myself to pick up my books only because I wish to live a life of luxury. A life of a bourgeois.I love clothes, good food and women too much, and these seemingly unattainable objects of desires make the battle worth fighting for. What an irony. Unattainable, yet worth fighting for.
You see, I've been thinking about it through during one of those "Why-am-I-working-so-hard-for?" days (one of which happened to be today when I was sipping my drink at Coffee & Toast, which sucks by the way.) It's like, is there any point at all in attaining these 'worldly desires'? What if I work my ass off, only find myself in a situation whereby the achievement of all the above mentioned objectives reap nothing but emptiness?
It all happened like that. These days, after I broke up with Sonia about 3 weeks ago, I found myself with ample time to do whatever I please. And tagging along came a lot more money, since there was no need for fancy dining and stupid mindless string of Hollywood blockbusters which literally, give blockheads a blast. So here goes retail galore, not therapy, because I was never devastated to begin with. A little upset about the development of our post-breakup, especially on her side, but never devastated. Not worth the expense you see, and note, I say it without a single tinge of jealousy.
So far I've bought myself a new pair of jeans (woohoo finally), 2 new tops that go well with it, and today, a new pair of shoes. While contemplating on my shoes, I was thinking over, will my endless shopping rampage ever satisfy me? I guess maybe it will. Afterall, I love looking good. Because my philosophy is as such that, mankind are intrinsically, and superficially too ugly. Much less the not-so-inclined-to-hunk looking ones like me right? Hence, people (especially me), need nice, not necessary fancy clothes to underscore ourselves as more unique, and colorful characters. Besides, I think the way you dress shapes your personality more or less. And I'm proud of the identity I've created for myself.
But looking back in hindsight, all these mindless attainment of luxries never did satisfy my inherent need for something more important. It's obviously not a girlfriend, as experiences fruitfully explain. Neither is it good looks or whatever shit. It's just an emptiness I find hard to explain. Some sort of void space inside me. I'm not sad or anything, just lacking a bit of direction that I really rely on to move one.
On the topic of reliance, I'm so thankful for my grandparents for taking care of me when I was ill. I'm not trying to be ungrateful, but my parents are seriously too concerned about making money to care about me. Imagine having to come home from school on a day you're down with a 38.9 fever only to find out that your mum cooked Assam Sotong and Fishhead for you to eat. Like seriously what the fuck with a capital W, T and F. Being sick for a fucking week really made me think that this time's bonkers for me. And I was hoping I would die on Friday morning during assembly. While I was sitting down on the bench enjoying the skies that never fail to awe me, plugging into my iPod listening to a suicide victim.
Ahhh Buckley...
posted@4:40 PM