introspection

Dearest shadow...

i've not been having time off to really sit down and blog because of all the crazy presentations that i had to give. sometimes i wonder if those presentations really do equip us for the real world or whether they equip us to deal with panic attacks.

right. nevermind.

in case you were wondering, my life is lackluster for the most part. i've been deviating from all the things that ought to be doing and finding the time to procrastinate on others. as much as i'm aware of this, as much as all of this is smack in my face, i still do it. why? thats the million dollar question. if i had a million dollars that is.

sigh. that day, i was supposed to present a project on shakespeare. and this is a project on the man i have a crazy, intimate and not so secret love affair with. i promptly went on to study it and gathered materials and whatever was really necessary to make it a good presentation. finally, i ended up digressing. sigh. romeo and juliet still captivate me. perhaps even more deeper than before. despite it being the most clichéd play ever.

just a few days before, i had a(nother) identity crisis. i was wondering if i really am doing what i want in life. whether doing what you love constitutes to what is necessary and whether doing something you want is the right thing to do. which of course was followed by a zillion rhetorical questions and searching definitions of terms.

life is a box of chocolates. or so they say. i wonder where the chocolates are. at the end of the rainbow i suppose. i'm craving for some. hadn't had some in a long time. i've taken my own escapism from me. yes. that sounds self-contradictory. you should know by now that i'm a walking paradox.

i remember that at the beginning of this year, i was splendidly optimistic. i chided myself and my realist attitude and told that part of me to go into slumber. only to awake when disaster strikes and i can no longer handle living in a self constructed idealism. that part of my brain woke up screaming from a nightmare. poor thing.

i gotta empathise with it. i mean, look at my tendency to romanticize things. its both a blessing and a curse. in all senses of the words. i suppose if i had been romanticizing my books, i'd be getting somewhere with them. and here i am writing a stylistically polished blogpost without effort or hoping that it'll look longer when i double space it.


if you've read this far and you're wondering what the hell i'm saying, then worry no more. 'tis my brain that's fudged. perhaps it'll start working better with less hair on my head. i mean that quite literally by the way.


adieu! :)