I have to say that quite often these days I find myself wanting to find a secret hiding place and crawl in oblivious to everything else and create my little Utopia.
I know how immature that must sound. But in the wake of the kind of information bombardment one goes through every passing moment, a personal Utopia is not too much to ask for is it? Half the time the information has no immediate relevance to the quality of life that I personally aspire for. I could do with less news about the tragedies and the misunderstood martyrs and the likes.
But we were spawned in such an age. And we tend to need this brain feed in order to qualify our existence. We are also surrounded by ideas and opinions and thoughts and perspectives and the one thing I have come to understand about myself is that I abhor herd mentality and I loathe subscribing to something purely because it is the 'in' thing to do.
I think .... NO! I know I infuriate people a lot. I don't even have to try to, I just do. I've seen it many times purely because as much as I'd convince myself that in order to survive this predatory existence one must align oneself to 'popular train of thought' or with the movers and the shakers - I just don't seem to have that kind of drive to step over people to get to the top of the heap.
I guess the conclusion I have come to is I don't have what it takes to be the leader of any pack. It used to bug me somewhat. Being a Leo - so called natural born leader and shit like that. I found that when I tried too hard to be the leader and stuff my ideas down the throats of others, inevitably I failed in my quest and inevitably I'd get real down and abjectly have to accept I was not cut out to be a leader.
Over the years, and perhaps varying circumstances in my life, I've had the uneasy task of trying to find myself. Its been a rather rocky journey and to date I cannot claim any success in finding my true self. But then that raises the question about the me that people see - am I really who I make myself out to be?
Am I the same with A as I am with B and does C view me differently from D?
Lately (as recently as sometime earlier today), I've come to realise that for all my verbosity and thinking people still view me as a bimbo. Even when I am silent, people see as a bimbo. Apparently the kind that has peas for brains but unused. It's funny in a tragic kind of way you know.
The other view of me is that I'm scary because on one hand I am this single mother facing off with the world and on the other hand I'm some mushy whimpy damsel screaming 'I am a victim, save me please' .. hmmm ... should I explain myself?
I think no I need not do so. I'd only be able to explain myself if the listeners really wanted to hear what I was saying. From experience, really most people tune out after a few lines and they've categorised me.
Should I feel offended? hurt? I dunno, I am human after all and female - not that's a valid excuse to get all knickers in a knot. I do get offended/hurt - but I tend now to not cross swords with anyone anymore ... it seems all quite pointless especially to my peace of mind and sanity.
(perhaps this post is really a mish mash of thoughts as I come to grips with some disturbing emotions)
I am a self confessed netizen. I've spent a lot of the last 6 years online either reading or chatting and that's when I thought I might use all the words inside my head to blog - sorta like a personal online diary. When I started this little vice of mine, I did not expect there to be any readers other than the ones I specifically requested to read something I wrote. But I found that with online, you just never know what you are going to get.
I've made some good friends because of my writing. As myopically personal in views and perspectives, I seem to have struck a chord with some. Others have become critics and some mentors and some others the cheerleaders. For my superly bashed ego - this is quite soothing.
Life's not been a bed of roses. I am not delusional enough to expect it to be all sugar and spice and beautiful all the way. Where's the fun of living without the scars to show our journey. Although having said that, there are quite a few instances in my life, I'd have willingly given a skip.
Growing up, I was often riddled with angst with the classic no one understands me. Years on, I realise no one ever understands anyone try to the best of our intentions. I wanted to help change lives, today I look at mine and wonder how in heavens name have I come this far, survived this much and got so totally screwed along the way.
Inherent dread at having to yet once again admit I have failed is creeping up again. But when I take stock of things, I haven't even began to live beyond my current existence to have failed anything ... I guess the old adage of nothing ventured nothing gained remains true.
I used to feel sorry for myself that all the shit that's happened happened to me. Why not to someone else instead? Why me was always ringing in my head - it becomes like quicksand slowly but surely engulfing ones spirit, if one lets it go on and fester.
I do still go into bouts of feeling sorry for myself, especially so after I've tried something and fallen flat on my face even at the first steps. It's getting harder to will myself to try again. Thankfully God's given me 2 reasons to keep trying - Ashna and Kasha.
The worst thing I find myself doing more and more is having to acknowledge what an idiot I am. Sometimes, I do tend to forget that this world we live in is not one that suffers fools easily, and I being one such fool, usually manages to irk someone or other. It's funny and yet it's not.
*sigh* after each misadventure, I wish I had my own secret place to crawl into and hide whilst whatever took it's time to settle and people forget. In my mind, I've built small compartments which I escape into sporadically and it seems in recent past, I am now again more frequently withdrawing into myself.
Interactions with people seems to inevitably piss someone off. Dissecting myself under the microscope usually ends up with me kicking myself blue black for having been such a daft duck.
Even in writing how I feel, it apparently offends the senses of some readers here ... so it seems that I should change my name from whatever pathetic combination it is to something more apt like hmmm Illiterate, Disillusioned, Bi-polar is probably most apt - seeing as no two people see me the same way *cackles in pained hysterics!*
Is .ani feeling sorry for herself today? Probably. What is the catalyst of such an outburst? Nothing in specific, but just a whole big rojak of instances. Actually I am not feeling sorry for myself, am just plain angry with myself.
I am doing something wrong here - damn it what is there to be done to rectify the situation? I cannot change the past, I seem to be unable to make way to clear water in the present and the future is phreaking unclear.
All my well laid plans gone haywire and instead of doing the most obvious and attacking small chunks of the problem, .ani being .ani I want to bite the whole head off and swallow till the toes too ... *burp* - all I have achieved is indigestion ... GODDAMNIT!
Where's that secret door that hides me from the world and my responsibilities for what seems a lifetime but merely a blink in time and space. My own Narnian adventure, where for once I can stand proud of who I am and what I believe in and not be mocked, ridiculed or made to feel small and insignificant because I cannot assimilate into the pack.
First hand experience of being an outcast was those 'wonder years' in that organization. If I lived in the movie world, outcasts almost always triumph in the end. But reality is bitter and outcasts remain outcasts. We've been conditioned to desire to be accepted, not be true to ourselves. I think, I've sold myself short too often in the past.
Therefore in wanting to be true to myself now, I find that acceptance and understanding of me does not exist. Should I be concerned? Or should I throw concern to the wind and spearhead forward for what I believe in? I wish these weren't choices I had to make, but instead they were opportunities presenting themselves to me ...
Oh well, as I sit here rambling on my keyboard, I've just registered that my presence on the net is being monitored and recorded and which effectively means my secret place is no longer secret. I have no place anymore to hide away from the world and write - another trial I cannot avoid.
It would seem that the days of the thinking .ani are numbered. My withdrawal from the world it seems is inevitable. I think my passing will go unnoticed. Perhaps that too is best. One is never bigger than the big picture afterall.
~cheerio everyone, more stupid things are happening, and .ani is sick of it all~
I know how immature that must sound. But in the wake of the kind of information bombardment one goes through every passing moment, a personal Utopia is not too much to ask for is it? Half the time the information has no immediate relevance to the quality of life that I personally aspire for. I could do with less news about the tragedies and the misunderstood martyrs and the likes.
But we were spawned in such an age. And we tend to need this brain feed in order to qualify our existence. We are also surrounded by ideas and opinions and thoughts and perspectives and the one thing I have come to understand about myself is that I abhor herd mentality and I loathe subscribing to something purely because it is the 'in' thing to do.
I think .... NO! I know I infuriate people a lot. I don't even have to try to, I just do. I've seen it many times purely because as much as I'd convince myself that in order to survive this predatory existence one must align oneself to 'popular train of thought' or with the movers and the shakers - I just don't seem to have that kind of drive to step over people to get to the top of the heap.
I guess the conclusion I have come to is I don't have what it takes to be the leader of any pack. It used to bug me somewhat. Being a Leo - so called natural born leader and shit like that. I found that when I tried too hard to be the leader and stuff my ideas down the throats of others, inevitably I failed in my quest and inevitably I'd get real down and abjectly have to accept I was not cut out to be a leader.
Over the years, and perhaps varying circumstances in my life, I've had the uneasy task of trying to find myself. Its been a rather rocky journey and to date I cannot claim any success in finding my true self. But then that raises the question about the me that people see - am I really who I make myself out to be?
Am I the same with A as I am with B and does C view me differently from D?
Lately (as recently as sometime earlier today), I've come to realise that for all my verbosity and thinking people still view me as a bimbo. Even when I am silent, people see as a bimbo. Apparently the kind that has peas for brains but unused. It's funny in a tragic kind of way you know.
The other view of me is that I'm scary because on one hand I am this single mother facing off with the world and on the other hand I'm some mushy whimpy damsel screaming 'I am a victim, save me please' .. hmmm ... should I explain myself?
I think no I need not do so. I'd only be able to explain myself if the listeners really wanted to hear what I was saying. From experience, really most people tune out after a few lines and they've categorised me.
Should I feel offended? hurt? I dunno, I am human after all and female - not that's a valid excuse to get all knickers in a knot. I do get offended/hurt - but I tend now to not cross swords with anyone anymore ... it seems all quite pointless especially to my peace of mind and sanity.
(perhaps this post is really a mish mash of thoughts as I come to grips with some disturbing emotions)
I am a self confessed netizen. I've spent a lot of the last 6 years online either reading or chatting and that's when I thought I might use all the words inside my head to blog - sorta like a personal online diary. When I started this little vice of mine, I did not expect there to be any readers other than the ones I specifically requested to read something I wrote. But I found that with online, you just never know what you are going to get.
I've made some good friends because of my writing. As myopically personal in views and perspectives, I seem to have struck a chord with some. Others have become critics and some mentors and some others the cheerleaders. For my superly bashed ego - this is quite soothing.
Life's not been a bed of roses. I am not delusional enough to expect it to be all sugar and spice and beautiful all the way. Where's the fun of living without the scars to show our journey. Although having said that, there are quite a few instances in my life, I'd have willingly given a skip.
Growing up, I was often riddled with angst with the classic no one understands me. Years on, I realise no one ever understands anyone try to the best of our intentions. I wanted to help change lives, today I look at mine and wonder how in heavens name have I come this far, survived this much and got so totally screwed along the way.
Inherent dread at having to yet once again admit I have failed is creeping up again. But when I take stock of things, I haven't even began to live beyond my current existence to have failed anything ... I guess the old adage of nothing ventured nothing gained remains true.
I used to feel sorry for myself that all the shit that's happened happened to me. Why not to someone else instead? Why me was always ringing in my head - it becomes like quicksand slowly but surely engulfing ones spirit, if one lets it go on and fester.
I do still go into bouts of feeling sorry for myself, especially so after I've tried something and fallen flat on my face even at the first steps. It's getting harder to will myself to try again. Thankfully God's given me 2 reasons to keep trying - Ashna and Kasha.
The worst thing I find myself doing more and more is having to acknowledge what an idiot I am. Sometimes, I do tend to forget that this world we live in is not one that suffers fools easily, and I being one such fool, usually manages to irk someone or other. It's funny and yet it's not.
*sigh* after each misadventure, I wish I had my own secret place to crawl into and hide whilst whatever took it's time to settle and people forget. In my mind, I've built small compartments which I escape into sporadically and it seems in recent past, I am now again more frequently withdrawing into myself.
Interactions with people seems to inevitably piss someone off. Dissecting myself under the microscope usually ends up with me kicking myself blue black for having been such a daft duck.
Even in writing how I feel, it apparently offends the senses of some readers here ... so it seems that I should change my name from whatever pathetic combination it is to something more apt like hmmm Illiterate, Disillusioned, Bi-polar is probably most apt - seeing as no two people see me the same way *cackles in pained hysterics!*
Is .ani feeling sorry for herself today? Probably. What is the catalyst of such an outburst? Nothing in specific, but just a whole big rojak of instances. Actually I am not feeling sorry for myself, am just plain angry with myself.
I am doing something wrong here - damn it what is there to be done to rectify the situation? I cannot change the past, I seem to be unable to make way to clear water in the present and the future is phreaking unclear.
All my well laid plans gone haywire and instead of doing the most obvious and attacking small chunks of the problem, .ani being .ani I want to bite the whole head off and swallow till the toes too ... *burp* - all I have achieved is indigestion ... GODDAMNIT!
Where's that secret door that hides me from the world and my responsibilities for what seems a lifetime but merely a blink in time and space. My own Narnian adventure, where for once I can stand proud of who I am and what I believe in and not be mocked, ridiculed or made to feel small and insignificant because I cannot assimilate into the pack.
First hand experience of being an outcast was those 'wonder years' in that organization. If I lived in the movie world, outcasts almost always triumph in the end. But reality is bitter and outcasts remain outcasts. We've been conditioned to desire to be accepted, not be true to ourselves. I think, I've sold myself short too often in the past.
Therefore in wanting to be true to myself now, I find that acceptance and understanding of me does not exist. Should I be concerned? Or should I throw concern to the wind and spearhead forward for what I believe in? I wish these weren't choices I had to make, but instead they were opportunities presenting themselves to me ...
Oh well, as I sit here rambling on my keyboard, I've just registered that my presence on the net is being monitored and recorded and which effectively means my secret place is no longer secret. I have no place anymore to hide away from the world and write - another trial I cannot avoid.
It would seem that the days of the thinking .ani are numbered. My withdrawal from the world it seems is inevitable. I think my passing will go unnoticed. Perhaps that too is best. One is never bigger than the big picture afterall.
~cheerio everyone, more stupid things are happening, and .ani is sick of it all~
