133 - Should you be an open book or a closed book?

You know how people always suffer from depression and trust issues because they feel that bottling everything up is the way to deal with their problems? They keep all their innermost feelings in the innermost layer of their heart and never express the frustration, hurt or grief they experience and just prefer to treat the parts of their life that matter to them a huge secret.

As of right now, I am one of those people - the reason being that I feel that if I were to depend on someone, I will get let down by unmet expectations, or I will develop an overreliance on people, which would eventually lead me to a state where I feel alone, betrayed, and failed. I believe now that keeping everything about myself to myself is individual and strong, and demonstrates independence, maturity and confidence.

The reason I am like this is because I was exactly the opposite when I was a few years younger. I used to be over-dramatic, and I would tell everybody about the shit that was going on in my life because I thought getting people's sympathy and having the courage to 'trust' people with information was an attractive character in a person.

I used to be like that. It wasn't even about telling people I trusted. I rambled on and on in front of anyone that would listen, hoping that by telling just the recounts of my unfortunate life incidents, I could get people to like me. I stopped doing this because I realized I was just distracting myself from the emotions by telling the story again and again, to the point where I wore off my inner pain from telling it too many times.

So should I trust anybody, or do I trust nobody? From both experiences, where neither worked well for me, I think the answer is you have to find a balance. I'm never any good at balance. I like to be ultimate good (even though I'm not), I aim to be the best at school (even though I'm not), and in my conversations with people, I'm either really talkative about my personal life, or I'm not in the slightest. I don't know what to do, because I hate balance. But extreme people have no place in this society. Should you be an open book or a closed book?

132 - Some foods simple, some foods complex

Anyone who knows me long enough will know that I love to eat. I don't just guzzle everything real quickly, either, or eat just anything at any hour of the day. I have a lot of rules when it comes to food. For example, I never let any sauce, milk, ice-cream or any other substance get left behind on the periphery of my mouth. It saves me from having to wipe it later, and my fellow diners from an unattractive sight.

One of the major eating principles I hold dear to my heart is the differentiation between foods that have to be simple, and foods that have to be more complicated. Take macaroni and cheese for example. The indulgent, mouth-watering cheesiness of the dish is a delight, while the pasta itself fills your stomach. The same works for cheese and biscuits, and cheesecake. There's no need for a side of ham next to your biscuits, or some raspberry coulis drizzled over it. The cheese speaks for itself.

Examples of other foods that stand well on their own:
 - sashimi and sushi (no wasabi or soy sauce),
 - the classic Coca-Cola,
 - vanilla ice-cream (no other flavor),
 - toast and butter,
 - french fries and ketchup,
 - chicken nuggets,
 - tomato soup,

On the other hand, there are other foods that are better the more complex they are. They deserve to have more flavors, more textures, more colors, more ingredients, all mixed together to make it work. Take a sandwich for example. I never order BLT, or tuna and mayonnaise. It's just a bit plain if you ask me. It has to be a club sandwich - with tomatoes, lettuce, egg, bacon, turkey, cheese, mustard, ham, ketchup, mayonnaise, cucumber and a third piece of bread in between the top and bottom slices. That's what a real sandwich is to me.

Examples of other foods that should shoot for the stars:
 - nachos covered in beef, salsa, guacamole, sour cream and melted cheese,
 - fruit salad with at least six different kinds of fruit,
 - steak, with peas, carrots, mashed potatoes and gravy,
 - hotdogs with ketchup, mustard, relish, maybe some mayonnaise, corn, cheese, cole slaw, sauerkraut, onion, lettuce, tomato and chili sauce,
 - a full English breakfast, with eggs, toast, butter, jam, bacon, baked beans, hash browns, fried bread, black pudding, mushrooms, potatoes, sausage, and tea,
 - and the Big Mac, with two beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions and three sesame seed buns.

What do you think? Do you agree that tomato soup need not be dressed up? Do you disagree and think that a tuna and mayonnaise sandwich is actually very nice?

131 - Alcohol, work and loud music go well together

So, I guess you could say I'm a little bit tipsy. Just had one margarita, but mind you, that stuff is around 30%. I mean, I didn't calculate it properly. 30% just came to the top of my head, it was a guess, an estimate. We don't need to actually calculate it. I mean, we could. Hey, let's calculate it.

According to Wikipedia according to the International Bartenders Association, the standard ratio of a margarita is 7:4:3 for tequilla:Triple Sec:lime juice. Now, I had a 400ml clear plastic cup, so using the same ratio I just mentioned, and converting them into percentages (50%:29%:21%), we can therefore know that we would require 200.0ml of tequilla and 116.0ml of Triple Sec (and therefore 84.0ml of lime juice, by the way). As tequilla is 40% alcohol, that means 80.0ml of alcohol came from the tequilla. That's simple arithmetic. Duh. And as for the Triple Sec, it's 30% alcohol, so 34.8ml of alcohol came from the Triple Sec. (I calculated this in my head by rounding up 116.0ml to 120.0ml so the figures were easier, giving me an alcohol volume of 36.0ml, then I subtracted 30% of the difference that I added [which was 4.0 milliliters], which turned out to be 1.2ml, giving me the final alcohol content in milliliters as 34.8ml.) So if there is 80.0ml and 34.8ml of alcohol, there are 114.8ml, and just doing a quick calculation of 114.8 divided by 400ml, that is roughly 115/400 ml, which is roughly 23/80, which just trust me, is around 0.2875. (If you really want to know how I did that in my head, I basically multiplied both numbers by 1.25, since 80 times 1.25 is 100. This essentially gave me 28.75 when I multipled 23, so all I had to do is move the decimal place back two digits and that was it.) I am now proud to announce that what I drank was 28.75% alcohol. My initial guess of 30% wasn't that far off, was it? Isn't that neat?

You see, alcohol makes my mind run faster, my understanding of everything around me lucid. My perception may be a little bit impaired. I'm sure I wouldn't be able to taste or smell anything if it was pressed up against my face. I can't really feel my legs, but maybe it's because they're crossed. And my arms feel tired, I have no idea why. The only thing that hasn't changed is my level of visual perception. My eyesight is never affected, it's 20/20 vision all the time. As for my hearing, I can't hear a damn thing other than my music. I sure hope there aren't zombie lurking behind me, moaning and roaring at me. I wouldn't be able to smell them or hear them. I also hope that the whole building situated behind me isn't burning in flames. I don't think I would be able to smell or feel that either.

Music is a funny thing. People always ask me what kind of music I like, and I tell them 'Mainstream' is my thing. But I don't think that's what it is. I think I like songs which I know the lyrics to. Maybe because all my favorite songs just happen to be mainstream, that is why I know the lyrics to everything in my iPod. It's easier to practice as it plays in clubs and shops and stuff.

The title of this post is 'Alcohol, work and loud music go well together', because I know that once I've had some to drink, and once I've placed my earphones in my ears and turned up the music to the maximum volume, I become extremely efficient when I work. Alcohol works as some sort of fuel for me. They always say that alcohol doesn't change who you are, it reveals who you are. And perhaps the sober me doesn't like to do anything, doesn't like to work, to be proactive, to be lively, to be talkative, to be ranty. The sober me feels the need to act quiet, repressed, submissive, doesn't want to take chances, risks, initiative, action or a hold of his life.

Maybe the sober me will read this after the hangover and learn something. Good luck, Mike, living the way you do. If your way of living doesn't work out for you, you could always invite me back to be your substitute.

130 - Deep thoughts

I enjoy deep thought a lot. The deeper the better. Thinking about thinking about thinking about thinking is like achieving a perfectly cooked steak. (Seriously, try it. Betcha can't get past the third 'thinking'.) As much as I would like to 'live in the moment' and just 'go with it', I find that lying in the subconscious are tons of wonderful things to stimulate the mind and really make you wonder about the purpose of all that's around you and the meaning that lies within your own existence. People always tell me I overthink things too much, but I have to disagree. I think having reasons for every aspect of what I do, what I feel, and what I believe, is important and useful because it gives me justification for my actions, it gives me direction and clarifies my goals, and it helps me improve myself when I focus on what I do wrong exactly.

Today is just a rambling, because my mind is quite tired at the moment from over six hours of this continual thought. I guess deep thought is only good for me in short amounts. Before I wrote these paragraphs, I wanted to talk about a great number of things, which I won't bore myself with now, but a rave is what I've decided to finally publish here, because I just cannot decide on one thing to talk about.

One thing that really saddens me is the fact that not many people out there are willing to get into a deep and meaningful conversation (a phenomenon my ex-classmates used to abbreviate to the term, 'DMC's'). Most people just like to stay with superficial chit-chat, which is not a bad thing at all in my opinion - just not my cup of tea. It doesn't sadden me because I think it's pathetic to discuss things that are shallower, it saddens me because I just don't know how to talk about things like that for prolonged periods of time, and it isolates me, and makes me different from others.

But I think that everybody needs to have DMC's every now and then, and it sort of compensates for my loneliness when people come to me to talk about serious things. I like being the one they can come to, and even rely on to sort out other people's problems. I may lose my usefulness once the conversation topic lightens up, but at least I did my part in bringing them past the thorny parts. And that's all I really want to say today. Goodnight.

129 - Top Ten things a guy's mother should never know

#10
What you really feel about violence, famine, death, disease, mental disorder, blood and gore.

#9
You don't actually brush your teeth, clean your ears, use any soap in the shower, use any shampoo in the shower, use the water in the shower, wash the family dishes properly, separate your raw from your cooked in the kitchen, wash your hands after every time you go to the bathroom, and/or wipe your ass every time after doing a poo.

#8
If you have a tattoo or piercing in 'special places' on your body.

#7
Whether you really go to school every single day.

#6
What causes that kind-of-like-weed smell in your bedroom.

#5
What you're doing in the bathroom that takes so long.

#4
Where all that money she gives you really goes.

#3
Whether you've lost your virginity yet, and if so, with who?

#2
Whether you've ever hidden a pregnancy or an STD from her.

And the #1 thing a guy's mom should never know:

If it looks exactly the same as your dad's.

128 - One in a million

Hello, fine peoples. As you know, yesterday was Valentine's Day, a day I don't at all celebrate. I would really love to, but I simply can't afford the effort, time or money to dress up all fancy-pants and bring a girl out for a dinner and a romcom and a nice stroll in the park. Honestly, that is my thing, but I can't do my thing because I'm not that bothered to do my thing. I always wonder about what love is exactly - who it will come in the form of.

I'm not talking about family members or friends, I'm talking about that hot, yet gooey stuff, the passionate lovin' and the holding hands, the heated arguments and the great amount of compromise that covers each and every decision you make, the public displays of affection and the private talks on the telephone late at night, the girlfriendness and the bitchness, the boyfriendness and the jerkness, the good and the bad, the phenomenon known as a relationship.

I'm not sure a lot of people will admit this with me, but in my lifetime, I have had mild to wild crushes on hundreds of people, ranging from celebrities to classmates at school, people I see on the streets and in line queuing for the bus, cartoon characters, friends, friends of friends, friends of family, people at work, people in restaurants and supermarkets, people who I sit next to on the train, people I meet on forums, even a blogger or two...

Now, that doesn't make me sound too good, but I mean, I'm willing to bet good money on the fact that all of you have or have had these crushes on people, and I'm counting the mildest, smallest forms of attraction here. It's in our human nature to bond together, so what's so shameful about admitting it, really? The difference that affects your life unlike other people's is how willing you are to take the extra step to pursue these attractions. I know people who prefer to be alone, people who don't like being alone but are too shy, people who are fine being in a monogamous relationship, people in couples who don't wish to be, some who even venture to have two or more partners at the same time...

Recently, I've come to the conclusion that I may have found somebody I want to take that extra step with. For five or six years now, I've been pushing that idea away, and I haven't really wanted to be with anyone deep in my heart for that long. It's very rare for me. I guess I have trust issues, and issues with not judging people - but I've come to really trust and appreciate this person in particular... I think she's perfect for me. So, here's my opportunity to take that extra step, that chance.

Why not?

Gain tae Scootlund!

Awrite wee jimmies an' burds. Aam gonnae Auld Reekie ower th' weekend an' willnae be back until monanday. See ye 'en!

127 - Grades actually matter to me. Huh.

So, today, I got five essays back. They averaged pretty well, but as you can tell by me not divulging the exact details, they weren't stellar either. For some reason, I generally believe that I'm chilled about school and grades and that stuff, but when it comes time to actually take a look at what marks I received, it genuinely elates me when I achieve well, and when authoritative figures compliment me, and it truly upsets me when I see a grade that's lower than I expected, and an evaluation that dresses down my effort and the quality of my work.

My best friend and I always say that these things don't matter to us, but from my perspective (don't know about him), I know I'm sort of in denial. I really would like to appreciate the finer things in life... generosity of spirit, the beauty of nature, the love that stems from family, the sacred bond of friendship, the splendor of the great, wide world...

But cash in my pocket, numbers and letters on a sheet of paper, and loud, techno music playing in clubs full of drunken girls and preying old men, actually evoke feelings within me. I care about these things, even though I know it's not that 'spiritually'... 'up there'.

Oh, well. I guess I'm superficial.

126 - Stressed

I'm really stressed and I don't know why. I mean, I know why, but I don't know why I give myself that stress. Now, I feel burned out emotionally and physically.

In two days, my mother is coming from Hong Kong to visit me here in the UK. We're planning to head up to Edinburgh for a couple of days, and booking tickets and accommodation for us has been mentally taxing. In the past few days, I've been trying to research and brainstorm all the things we could do in Scotland and in Kent, and I'm just very, very tired now. You would think that her going to visit one of her old students in Exeter for two days would help lessen the burden, but I actually have a test the day after she comes back. My break-from-Mom gone, just like that. In the next month, I'm also planning to meet up with two of my closest friends, three times, separately, in London. I have two essays due and a lot of computer stuff to do too. I've also had to search for accommodation for next year, and it's been a complete nightmare so far...

I actually have plans to open up another blog... on the 15th of February in fact. On top of getting that ready, I also have to prepare posts on this blog and Do you hate it too? for each day that I'm with my mother, from the 10th to the 20th. It's all just snowballed, and it's all really, really, really working me hard, but I just have to power through it, I guess.

There are two times during the year that have notoriously been very busy times for me. One is around February/March, the other is around May/June. Every year during these times, I'm so, so stressed out and I just cannot feel relaxed. In the past, there have been plays to perform, examinations to take, orals to do, 4,000-word essays to hand in, presentations, reports, and so many birthdays and anniversaries to attend...

I'm so tired. These two times of the year I always see coming my way, but I never have any defense set up to protect myself from it. This year, it's going to change - it has to change. I need to quickly pick up my efficiency so that I can deal with things faster and more effectively, hence prevent stressing myself out during these times again.

And now, I'm a little bit hungry.

Okay, actually, I'm very hungry. So I'm going to go make some pasta. Toodles.

125 - Subconscious forward-thinking

I'm sure at some point in your life, on your return home, you've stashed away some candy that you bought at the convenience store, so that you could then take it out again later to snack on it at around midnight, when you're going to be pulling an all-nighter, finishing that History essay for school due tomorrow, or analyzing this quarter's statistics for the business briefing with the bosses the next day. We do these sorts of things all the time, just to treat ourselves to some good stuff later. We place our shoes neatly somewhere near the front entrance of your room, or your house, for easier access the next day. We buy ourselves an entire bottle of vodka, or a six-can pack of Coca Cola, even though we're not going to drink it all at once, but because we are saving up for the future. If you have a slow internet connection, you may pause the Youtube video, or whatever video, before it even begins playing, because then you can play it all at one go in a few minutes without having to wait for it to buffer.

I do this most of all with my money, and my snacks. There must have been at least fifty times in the past four years, when I've exited the school premises, and on my way home, noticed that I had a lollipop or a Mars Bar in my bag or in my jacket pocket that I forgot I even purchased at least a day ago. And I would often hide my money in between the pages of books, and then I would forget about it until I found it again, long after the day I hid it in the first place.

And everytime I found one of these nice surprises, I look up at the sky, for that is where destiny/fate/the past is to me, and I say to myself, Well done, Michael...

Because in some weird subconscious way, I was treating myself for the future without even knowing it.

Today, I was tidying my room here at university because I wanted it to look neat for when my mother comes to visit me next week. Inside one of my drawers, I unexpectedly found £10. I was so happy, 'cause I had actually come to believe I was broke. For almost seven weeks, I had almost nothing in my bank account, and nothing but a bowl of copper coins in cash. And I somewhat believe that a few months ago, I had hidden that £10 purposefully for a day like this - where I was on the verge of starvation, in desperate need for some seed money for my mini-welcome party for my mother... and low and behold, I got it.

It's been nearly five months since I last saw my mother, and after she leaves, it'll be close to another five months 'til I see her again. Since I've come to the UK from Hong Kong, I've forced myself not to think about things like missing my parents or missing my best friend, because I know it's not healthy to yearn. I never had to will myself not to think about these things, though... it wasn't a challenge. It just happened naturally, subconsciously, and I think, again, these things that happen in the subconscious are my mind's attempt at treating me well in the long run, a form of forward-thinking, you might say.

124 - Numb, sorry and done.

Recently, I've been getting a lot of criticism from several friends and family members, concerning some of my actions, and some of the words I've used. In some cases, I behaved as an idiot and I deserved to be condemned, so I have taken action to try and demonstrate my sincerest apologies, for I am an imperfect person who sometimes, indeed, makes foolish mistakes.

In some other cases, I fail to recognize the crime I am being charged with, however, I have also expressed how sorry I am to those involved, for I never meant to hurt anyone's feelings. Sometimes, people see flaws in you that you're just completely unaware of.

Some of these debacles are still ongoing, and the effects of some are still being felt. However, after taking six or seven blows in the past two weeks or so, I am now numbed by the number of indictments that have been earnestly bestowed upon my conscience. All I can do is apologize, express the guilt that I feel, and assert that I will try my best not to commit the same crimes again. I cannot afford to buy anyone a new boat, or car, or even delivered flowers. Saying sorry is all I've got.

I have only ever expressed my anger at someone once in the past four months, and I assure you that this is honest truth. It was resolved the next day, they said sorry to me. And I moved on. That's all that's needed with me. I don't get angry easily, and if I do, I can forgive quite quickly. Believe it or not, even as the author of Do you hate it too?, I don't like being judgmental, I don't like making people feel bad about themselves. I tolerate the idiosyncrasies, then have a little rant on my blogs, and then get over it. This accomplishes patience.

We are all people here, imperfect, flawed, and capable of error... all I can ask for is forgiveness. If time or distance is needed, then a simple request for it would do. I don't like to dwell on things. I don't want to experience any hard feelings. I may still do so every now and then... but even so, I still wouldn't like feeling that way, obviously.

I'm done with apologizing. I've done all I can to attempt to rectify what's gone wrong. I'm tired. I'm numb. I need to spend some time now with a few people that acknowledge and appreciate my patience. I'm too tired of sitting here, bottling up everything wrong with the people around me, and letting them pour all of their hurt on me. Take your scrutinous microscope, and examine yourselves. Sometimes, it's just too darn easy to blame it on me. It really is. And that's your weakness, not mine.

123 - The idea process and guest posts

I have a little notebook, with a space for each day, in which I enter my blogging ideas, and what I write down in this journal ends up being what I talk about on my blogs throughout the week. I spend about an hour or two every weekend, and think about what might be good to discuss on Do you hate it too? and "If you're going through Hell, keep going." I do this to prevent cases of writer's block that may come up if I instead wrote my entries on the spot, in the moment, each day. After a year of not planning ahead for my posts, I really understand how hard it can be sometimes to think of something to say, and what a detrimental effect it can have on the quality of my blog.

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.

122 - Thank the gods for true friends

I can be one of the most tolerant, patient, generous, considerate, romantic, and carefree people you can ever meet in your life. The problem I have with most people, though - the only reason I am not being torn in different directions by multiple groups and cliques constantly craving my presence - is the fact that I don't know what I myself truly want. And in my confusion, I make big moves that affect myself and other people in an attempt to bond and belong, fueled and rationalized by my emotional partiality, that ultimately end up in other people and myself getting hurt.

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.

121 - How do we know that's the right thing to do?

Every few months or so, I get told that I think too much, that I'm over-complicating things and I should learn to just relax and let the little things go. My defense mechanism to counter these claims is substitution by alternative phrasing. Instead, I call it logical reasoning. I call it careful assessment of my situation. I call it elaboration. I call it attention to detail. I call it keeping a critical eye. I call it making an informed decision. I call it wisdom. I call it not judging a book by its cover. I call it an evaluation. I call it reflection. I call it effective writing. I call it a rant. I call it a simple train of thought. I call it the pursuit of clarity. And last but not least, I also call it my blog.

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.

120 - Why I solve my own problems

Throughout the course of my life, I have gradually gravitated towards an independent, individualistic way of life. I stand on my own two feet and face the world alone, most of the time, on my own accord. I don't ask for help, I refuse to admit I need help, even in the most drastic of conditions. If a problem is presented in front of me, you can be sure that I will try any and every possible way in my physical and mental capacity to solve that dilemma. If the issue persists, but I have the time to, I will venture to learn the skills, whether they be technical or cognitive, to do so on my own.

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.