"If you're going through Hell, keep going.": optimism

About Me.

Background

My name is Michael Rivera and I am a Filipino-Chinese, 18-year-old student living in Canterbury, but originally from Hong Kong. My parents divorced when I was two, and when I grew up, there were two sides of me: the wild, outdoorsy, gutsy side, and the conservative, intellectual, scholarly side. I spent two years living beside a beach in the countryside. It was then that I learned how to swim, how to fish and how to ride a bike. I love the outdoors, especially when having barbecues and hiking. Outside of that time, my more studious side of me reads, writes, and has a great interest in a broad range of subjects including: television and film, travel, anthropology, human cultures, linguistics, food and drink, psychology, philosophy, literature, forensics, Greco-Roman mythology, European history and politics, South American culture and geology. My deepest love goes to, well, my best friend. But the love that exists just a tiny fraction below that amount of love goes to television series, beautiful beaches, lime margaritas, and books considered classics.

Feel free to e-mail me if you have anything you want to share, suggest, criticize, inquire or comment on! :D

E-mail: scylla.michael.charybdis@gmail.com

(Click this sentence to see my complete profile.)

Thursday, January 29, 2009

46 - I don't really want to publish this post

I am not feeling very good right now, I feel like writing about something dark, and sad, something like breast cancer, the Holocaust, child soldiers, infanticide, widowhood or bad crime on the streets of New York, but I have a feeling that would not be well-received... I posted something on death earlier on, and I did not get a lot of comments for it, and that was just a piece of creative writing, not really my thoughts on dying. But anyway, the reason I feel like writing about something extremely disturbing, and grim, is hard for me to put my finger on. You see, I am unhappy. I have heard people refer to this as 'Michael being depressed', but I do not believe I suffer from depression, that is just hyperbole. I am sad, though, but I do not need a doctor to start writing me a prescription for pills any time soon.

I have spent five minutes thinking about what to say here... ten minutes... twenty-five minutes... twenty-six minutes—I give up. I cannot bring myself to say anything because I want to be a positive person, I want to be able to write at the same time as I'm sad, but I can't, I just don't have anything I can share. I'm sorry. I'm going to stop posting photos and short posts until I can finally write something substantial. I need the time off, but um... you'll find me on your Dashboard when I can muster up a good idea.