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Also, there may be some instances when I'm simply too busy or too tired during the week to sit and think of my ideas slowly and carefully. So, in the weekend, I spend time jotting down titles, and then some bullet points underneath each one, as a general guideline I can follow when the date arrives. It makes my writing easier, makes me more efficient and organized, and guarantees better content, because I actually spent time thinking my topics through, doing research if necessary. Plus, on the actual day I come to put these ideas on Blogger, it's kind of like my second chance to self-critique my ideas, and I feel like I've got a little bit of an editing process going on.
If there's one day you go on Do you hate it too? and don't see new content, that means I'm not doing the job I intended, because I ultimately aim to do one entry every day. When I miss one day, it can only mean I was too lazy to blog that day, even if it meant I had an idea written down already. In fact, I already have ideas written down to last me 'til the end of February. I have no excuse to miss any day, so if I do, I'm slacking off, and I apologize for that. Trust me, I hate the lazy pig I am just as much as you do.
As for this blog, my personal blog, I give myself Tuesday and Wednesday off, a bit of a holiday on the busier weekdays. So if I'm missing some days out, it again means I was being slothful, and if I'm blogging on the Tuesday and Wednesday, it means I had some thoughts/feelings I really wanted to publish.
I can't say it's easy to come up with substantial subject matter. In fact, brainstorming interesting stuff is more often difficult and time-consuming than it is fast and smooth. If I didn't go through the process I outlined above, I'd be lucky to even produce just more than five posts in a whole thirty days.
Someone told me that I could ask people to do guest posts on both my blogs, more so on Do you hate it too? as it's the more popular one. As difficult as the idea process can be sometimes, I still don't think I'm going to open that door of opportunity any time soon. These blogs were started by me, all by myself, and it would be like I was giving up a part of me, my own integrity, and in my mind, ownership, as the sole author of all the posts that have been written so far. I'm proud of what I do by myself, and as much as I would like to share the space on Do you hate it too?, I don't think I'm ready to welcome anyone else's work - that of my friends, my family members, my fans, the people I go to school with, and all the bloggers I've come to meet through Blogger.
Some day, maybe, I'll be open to offers, but I'd like to see how much more I can do by myself. I'd like to really be confident in my own style, and have the appropriate mindset for sharing, before seeing if anyone would be interested.
My displays of affection are sometimes viewed as inappropriate, because I think overstepping boundaries shows the courage to be romantic. I am devious and gossipy because I think sharing secrets and meddling in other people's lives means caring about other people's secrets and other people's lives - even though it blatently is snaky and dishonest. The term 'arrogance' crops up occasionally with me, because in some sick, self-centered place in my mind, I think putting up an appearance of confidence attracts people who lack self-esteem and maybe want to get inspired. At times, I'm told that I am insensitive to other people's lives and feelings, and this can largely be attributed to my focus being geared towards romance, or confidence, or whatever I think is completely justified to do.
I've always known that if I kept to my own business throughout my entire life, people would always love me and appreciate me for who I am if I happen to be there sitting beside them in any number of circumstances, but the problem is I just cannot control my innate, human inclination towards social interaction. I have to talk to people. I have to find people to trust. I have to find people to share my life with. And this tendency makes me do crazy, mean things.
And then there are those few that see that I don't mean to mess up anything, that I am actually very accepting of differences, and embracing of common traits, that I am good company, with interesting opinions and a very generous heart. I am grateful to the gods that these people can see past my bullshit, and can forgive me if I wrong them, and can stick by me, even defend me sometimes, while I continue to screw up my relationship with the rest of the world.
Without them, I'd be gone by now, 'cause I really drive myself crazy.
I call my obsessive-compulsive infatuation with specification by a great number of titles, all with the aim of shrouding my immoderate committal, my limitless passion, my exorbitant ambition towards the practice of rationality, due to which I strive to act in the most sensible, practical way possible, that reaps the most benefit with the least hindrance, but truth be told, I'm a walking, and way too often, talking, load of bullshit.
Because somehow, despite my incredibly analytical mentality, bad things still happen. Call it fated by the wrong pantheon of gods, call it rotten luck, call it the very consequence of my excessive contemplation - bad things happen to me, around me, because of me, anyway, in spite of the fact that I try so hard to avoid setbacks and tribulations and the other half of reality that doesn't go the way I want it to. And the only thing that seems right to do at this point, is to push myself harder, and harder, and harder, and harder, until the finish line brings a peace and harmony to my life that took years, and decades, what feels like my entire life to reach.
But that's not the way it works at all. The way it really works is one never truly feels completely matured. One never feels old enough. One never feels like they're one step ahead in life. One can never learn the ideal combination of life lessons that will allow for pure faultlessness of existence. We are forever young and inexperienced. We are forever surprised, and unprepared to face the obstacles on our journey. Just when you think you have it altogether, one tiny little thing screws up, and then another thing gets spoiled as a result. And then it's like the house of cards just came tumbling down, just as you were putting down the last 7 and King for its roof.
I feel like it's time to start all over again. But then again, it's always time to start all over again. There's always something going wrong, just as there's always something going right. There's always something to mend, and once you've fixed it, something else has shattered, something else fell off the table, or that first thing was vandalized after you had just cleaned it up. There's never any time to simply stop. There's never time to feel perfect. It's always something - something that makes you look and feel like an overly complacent idiot.
I wish I could mean it when I say that the trick is not to get too caught up with it all. But I don't think I, or anyone else, can perform that phenomenal trick. That is actual magic.
So I don't know what to do. And I forgot what my initial point was. I hope this was enthralling literature for you nonetheless. For the seventh time tonight, I'm going to go to bed, and try and fall asleep.
I hate to admit defeat. I am a competitive person. I want to reach the top.
And I don't ever want to ask for people to support me on my way. It would take away from my personal glory, my own accomplishments in life.
However, people like my mother and a few good buddies of mine have helped me throughout my entire life. They've stuck by me through thick and thin, in both times when I was very sure of who I was, and times when I was lost and confused. At this stage in my life, they only know all too well to simply wait for me to ask them for help if I need it. I manage to find trust in them somewhere inside me because they've proven for years that they can help me. I ask them because I'm not afraid of being disappointed by them. They live up to their roles as my closest family and friends.
At university, let's just say that there are a group of people that I have been trying to work with for the past four months to bring together something really fun, really educational, and really good. I put my heart and soul into this little project, and on my return to university from my winter holidays, I was extremely, extremely disappointed to find out that the other people in this group just didn't want to do it anymore. They gave up. And they don't give a rat's ass about what I feel.
And that is exactly why it is so hard for me to trust and depend on people I've just met. I cannot tell you how many times I've been disappointed by the people around me. Too often in my life, different people have done things to demonstrate how they are just so flawed and unworthy of my trust. I wish people kept the same personalities throughout your entire time of knowing them. But the real world makes it work differently. Friends become enemies, and enemies become friends. A social life filled with good friendships is a slippery slope on the summit of a mountain, and although reaching the highest point on that mountaintop gives you a great sense of pride, the natural inclination is to go downwards, because hiking up to the peak requires too much hard work.
One of these days, I'm going to stop giving new people I meet a chance. One of these days, I won't trust anyone new ever to help me with certain matters, because I feel like nobody can get things done right besides me. I'll ponder this a bit more - and I'm sure I'll come to some conclusion as to why I should give people chances.
But for now, for just these next few minutes, I want to be mad - mad at the people who let me down, mad at the inconsiderate, self-indulgent, power-hungry people that don't even care. It's not fair. It's not right.
These things can't be planned, and my time management skills have suffered a hit due to it.
There is also the problem of prioritizing in my head. Even though I allotted a time to finish this heap of work later today, I cannot do anything this morning or early afternoon, without worrying about what a heap it really is. I feel like I should probably ditch everything else and get straight to the work, finish it, and then I can go back to my schedule. After all, it's for university, it should take priority.
But after thinking about it, I think it would be better to fight that worry, and learn to let it go until it is the time I set aside for work. Because after all, blogging here, having an hour for lunch, having time to read, and go on Facebook, all of this that I've also set aside time for, is meant to help me achieve some sort of balance between my leisurely and working hours.
And what's stopping me from saying to myself, "Oh, my God, I really want to finish the rest of this book", or "The new episode is finally out, I've got to watch it now!" Those hasty impulses are no different from the work I have to do for university. In the same way, I would be prioritizing the way I want to prioritize it in that moment in time. And by taking that approach, I would then find myself in a situation where I managed to finish reading a book, but completely missed the deadline for my work. Or maybe a situation where I did do all of my work to the best of my ability, but then stayed up later that night to watch that new episode - only to find myself tired and sleepy when I have to get up the next morning.
And so the key to all of this is to just stick with the schedule. Always stick to the schedule that you, in your right mind, had planned for earlier in the weekend, knowing yourself, knowing the kind of person you are and the things you like to do, knowing how lazy you are on Monday evenings, knowing how hard-working you could be on Saturdays after lunch, knowing how much you like to sleep in on Sundays, knowing how long it sometimes takes for you to have dinner, or to log off Facebook once you go on it.
So here is my post for today. It said that I have to today. And now that I'm finished, I have half an hour free. Maybe I could go see what my friend is doing. Or I could get started on my lunch. Have a shower? Do some reading? Get some work done?
Before I even realize it, the schedule will get me to be so efficient that I will then free up a lot of time to actually do whatever, like going out to get drunk, or having a quick nap before a lecture. The golden rule of thumb, I think, is to always follow the schedule.
Now that I'm nearing the halfway point of my day, I can only say that the scale of whether this plan of mine is effective or not, is teeter-tottering on half-working, half-not working, but I think that's to be expected. New Year resolutions don't always come into effect so speedily and personal changes and forces out of habit require time.
Like last year, I said to myself that I would stop being so emotional and learn to handle my impulses a bit better - not to fall in love too hard, not to get angered so easily, not to think about loss and heartbreak and yearning so that I end up in a chronic state of misery, and not to worry about everything so much so that I can enjoy the life I'm living.
Although I made this resolution on January 1st, right after the countdown, it took me until mid-November to really feel settled, calm, and to really feel like a sane, rational person who doesn't let his emotions consume him.
So, although I didn't finish off this blog post two hours ago like I said I would, and although I'm not going to be having lunch now 'cause I just don't feel hungry, at least I got up at 6am, at least I had breakfast at 8, at least I did resist the temptation to go on Facebook before the time I allotted to go there, and so I must thus conclude that it isn't all that bad.
By mid-November, I'll have everything in my life arranged so neatly and to the minute. I'm sure of it. I believe in making your life the way you want it to be. The critical key is to never, ever feel pathetic, and to have confidence in the fact that you can do something for yourself.
I'm going to stop typing like a motivational speaker now.
I didn't allot any time in my schedule for being cheesy and annoying.
And then I feel like my soul is emerging out of my body, and I'm watching myself, criticizing everything I have going on in that moment in time, from what I chose to wear that day, to how high my expectations are for tomorrow, from how yesterday's actions have changed me for better or for worse, to how what I'm doing at that moment in time is relevant and beneficial in the bigger picture called my life.
This out-of-body experience only comes about when I have too much to remember at one time. It's kind of like an automatic system reboot that follows a system overload to prevent it from overheating. I just felt like that a while ago. And I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders right now.
Too often, I burden myself with too much to handle - and I spread myself too thin and end up with a couple pieces of very bland toast. A very good example of this is how I say I will blog everyday, but actually don't because I want to catch up with some television shows. However, I'm still not up-to-date on those because I have some work for university to get done. And I haven't gotten that done yet because I have some personal networking to do on Facebook - catching up with long-time-no-sees and photos to "like" and leave a "comment" under. I haven't got round to that because there are TV reviews to read. I haven't gotten round to that because there are webcomics to catch up with.
But my music playlists need serious updating. And a friend told me to check out this new anime series. Wait, my cousin asked me to read this book. And this other friend told me to watch a series of videos on Youtube. Now, I'm hungry. Now, I feel dirty, let me go take a shower. Now, I'm sleepy, I'm going to go to bed.
Oh, shit, 7am already?
Darn it.
...I didn't get to finish yesterday's blog post.
I seriously need to get more organized.
Or maybe I should throw away some parts of my life.
I don't want to, though. I wish I was more high-powered. I wish I did things more efficiently. There never seems to be enough time in the day...
Do you believe in destiny?
If you've seen that episode of Friends where Phoebe thinks a British cheese factory owner and Monica are soul mates, you'll know the two sides of the argument clearly. When you see a well-established couple together, you may wonder if whether their seemingly natural compatibility sprouts from having a strong, deep-seated chemistry, or whether it is a testament to how much they tolerate each other's flaws and learn to appreciate each other's differences.
It's hard for me to say whether I believe in fate bringing people together or fate bringing good things to my doorstep. Think of it like agnosticism, replacing God with the concept of destiny. (I am agnostic in the common sense of the word as well, though.) I just don't know.
On the other hand, there are friends that I have that are so chemically compatible with me that it's incredibly difficult for me to say that that came about by random chance. There is no need to work hard at anything, because it naturally works so well. How is it possible that these people who have been brought up differently, in a different place, by different parents, can get along with me so unbelievably well right from the getgo?
I fluctuate. Sometimes I believe there are ghosts watching our every move. Sometimes, I think we just die. Sometimes, I have faith in an almighty God, and I really, really do a few good deeds, in fear of going to Hell. And at other times, I think microbiological and astrological evidence prove that there certainly is no Lord. And sometimes, when I'm thinking about the close friends I've had, or the good life I have, I believe that that has to be fate - in no way did I earn that, it came to me like a blessing from God. And at other times, I think destiny is a load of poppycock. I worked hard to get to where I am, I made an effort to keep all my relationships healthy and intact.
Destiny. What an interesting idea.
Hmmmmmmmmmmm.
A few people I've asked this question to told me that the whole dating scene is a quest for stability. They want the undivided attention and commitment, and they want to feel the longevity of a mutual loyalty towards one another. But I still find myself asking why? Why not be loyal to a friend, instead? What is it about a wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend that is different from, say, your best and oldest friends? Are they not as loyal?
To which the people I asked replied by stating that with your friends, they come and go. Whereas with a partner, you will never feel alone and you always know that they're there for you. You're not meant to be that codependent with friends, who have their own lives to lead. I mean, we imagine ourselves spending the later parts of our life with a wife and kids - not a group of five same-sex chums, right? So, I ask them, what about your relatives? Aren't your parents and siblings just as 'constant' as a partner is? Your family are also always there for you. So what makes a wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend any different from, say, your sister, your uncle, or your mother?
Someone answered me by saying that they want to feel be proud of 'working on a relationship'. Establishing a relationship with someone means that you both make suggestions, criticisms, sacrifices, and changes in personality and lifestyle, so as to create something impressive to others, and impressive to ourselves - confirmation of the fact that you can do something in this world, live in a house together and have children, contribute to the national consumerism in your purchases, to the real estate and education industries - while continually helping someone in particular better their life and, in turn, have your own life changed for the better by them. A very good argument, I must say, but I must ask, is that not what we do at school and at work? When we work on individual projects, we make suggestions and criticisms to steer a project in the right direction, we work just as hard, to improve business, and to give back to society. A lot of people can say they love their job. A lot of people can say they feel important in the line of work they do. Just like in a relationship. So what makes a wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend different from your co-worker or your company then?
One of my friends responded by saying that they want erraticity. They want to feel that thrill of a roller-coaster-like experience when dating another person. They want to fall for someone, and they want to 'feel', mutually, 'in love', to feel that rush, that sense of having no boundaries. Sometimes it's not about commitment and stability, it's about surprises, a pair of earrings on the pillow, an unexpected candlelight dinner at home, a new car parked outside with a bow tied on top of it.
I'll admit it - my best friend and my mother would never surprise me with a car, but a future wife might. I cannot think of a logical explanation for why this 'rush' is not really why we go into relationships, other than pointing out the reality that predictability often trumps unpredictability in this world. Those tacky surprises are only seen in romantic comedies and sitcoms and unrealistic. A majority of couples that exist around us are definitely not that exciting - teenage couples just go to the movies and fuck, middle-aged couples just have dinner dates and then they might fuck afterward, and the elderly, well, they just... read the newspaper.
Sure, she may be cute, but why not just get a dog?
He certainly is very, very smart, but why aren't you making a move on your professor?
She 'gets' you, you say? Get a shrink, who can psychoanalyze and understand you better than any girl will.
Yeah, yeah, he's really funny indeed - but, are you saying I'm not funny?
These reasons are superficial, all of the ones I've listed so far. Love is something felt, and not thought about. It's hard to explain why people bother with relationships.
One of my friends suggested that it was animal instinct, an uncontrollable compulsion that ultimately is meant to provide you with a mate with whom you can reproduce and propagate your genes with. Can you imagine using that as your answer when people ask you what makes your partner so great?
"Because I want my genetic material to be passed down to the next generation."
This winter holiday, I decided to take advantage of the extra time I have and learn all 195 capitals. (Again, if you'd like to try, a link) I only have around 15 African capitals left to memorize, and then I will have them all down. I am surprised at the number of countries that have a capital city beginning with 'B'. (Just to illustrate: Baghdad, Baku, Bamako, Bandar Seri Begawan, Bangkok, Bangui, Banjul, Basseterre, Beijing, Beirut, Belfast, Belgrade, Belmopan, Berlin, Bishkek, Bissau, Bogotá, BrasÃlia, Bratislava, Brazzaville, Bridgetown, Brussels, Bucharest, Budapest, Buenos Aires, Bujumbura.) It annoys me greatly, as you can imagine.
Why do I want to do this?
I don't know. This is just one of those things that people do for no reason because it makes them feel good. Who knows whether one day this might come in handy on an everyday basis, or whether I will never implement this knowledge before the day I die.
Who cares?
It's fun to me.
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