Friday Scribbles

 

I woke up today having a hoarse voice after a night of belting along to my newly purchased CD of tearjerking love songs, which resulted from an eye-opening session of romantic counsels. What struck me the most was George Michael's "Kissing A Fool." Hmm, I wonder why. Haha. Of course, I know exactly why. Played and listened to it for a gazillion times. It was my first encounter of the ballad though, and it was captivatingly beautiful.

I feel funny. Not funny hilarious but funny pathetic. I recently have this habit of blogging, editing it momentarily, trashing it days later, and then saving it to My Documents for my own personal reading consumption. Sometimes with the absence of the latter. For quite some time, the spur of emotional instability has led me focused on a certain someone and something rather than write an array of issues worthy of the public's time and attention. There's absolutely nothing wrong in letting the whole world know a part of you, especially if you want to reach out to someone, if you want to be read by someone and then eagerly hope for a reaction, and most especially if you want to address some sweet or bittersweet concerns, of which you have carefully thought of and of which you can't just randomly utter, to someone. I believe we are all guilty of this. That no matter how you craftily, poetically, or anonymously guise the pieces, the subject at hand, having read, somehow would still know because that's what you've intended to achieve in the first place. However, a certain annoyance creeps into me whenever I peruse through my past blogs, of which many a topic would be the seed of my emotional outbursts. The sight and thought of reliving once upon a time was not a fairy tale after all. Not even slightly close to what I had dreamed, hoped, prayed, and wished for. Uh-uh. In many aspects, the results of my actions didn’t turn out the way I had intended them to be. I was always, always at the losing end. No happily ever after. Eventually, I just have the same gut inclination to delete an entry as I have the excitement and anticipation to compose one. Thus, the birth of blogging-editing-trashing-(saving). I’m such a geeky loser.

For the nth time, I want to be positive, cheerful, and, something new, sickeningly kind. Everything I’m not. I’m so pessimistic in life that you just want to wish me dead. Well, I wish, too. Maybe I’m just apprehensive of a lot of things: trudging the unknown, falling many times, overcoming defeat, surviving failure – all of which are inevitable and necessary. Perhaps if I weren’t brought up in a sequestered, conventional, reserved, and overprotective environment, I wouldn’t be as such. Maybe. In addition, I yearn to be cheerful. Just happy, giddy, lively, fun. Very much so when Kim (Cameron Diaz) met George (Rupert Everett) for the very first time in a cathedral in “My Best Friend’s Wedding.” That kind of cheerfulness. Well, I thought I was with my naïve and puerile nature…or so I thought. Me and my petty assumptions. But out of the three, the latter appeals to me the most. Sickeningly kind. So sickening that it makes you sick with guilt. That whatever harm you do to me, intentional or unintentional, no amount of rage will ever consume me. Not even a trace of nuisance. No matter how you take me for granted, I will still carry a carefree and nonchalant smile just to parallel your baffling indifference. You’ll be so eaten up with guilt that you will be the one saying innumerable sorrys and thank yous to me, even for no apparent reason. I remember one of Jesus’ sagely quotes, “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.” Kindness, meekness, and humbleness at its best. Yeah, maybe I’ll turn to you the other cheek…of my ass. Haha.