Sunday, January 29, 2006
It's a crazy little world.
I was watching a BoA video (duh), one of the Dakishimeru performances.
Normally, I would feel very happy just looking at it, but for some reason watching her perform made a sad pang go off in my heart.
How much of that dazzling smile is real? I saw her forehead crease momentarily, as if she was in pain. It was a blink-and-you-miss-it detail, and seeing it made me sad.
The way her face seems to contract in upon herself when she thinks the camera is not on her (it was, unfortunately), it wounds an ardent fan like myself.
Some might feel it silly to be so affected by someone who doesn't even know about your existence. Perhaps it is. Perhaps it's foolish to devote time and affection to a distant figure who probably will never know who the heck you are.
I always wondered why I liked BoA so much. Sure, I can come up with a thousand and one reasons why I love her now, but why did I even like anybody to begin with? I have never really been a fan of anybody prior to BoA. I liked certain songs and admired certain artistes, but never fell head over heels for one the way I did for BoA.
Was it a fad? I mean, not the kind that everybody follows in mainstream society. It's for me to answer the "who's your favorite singer" question. I always wondered if that played a part in my subconsciousness when accepting BoA as the light of my teeny weeny little life.
Yeah so that was a little cynical.
A little?
Fine, very cynical. What does it matter? Indeed, does anything matter?
Touche.
Anyway, getting back to the point. I have a less than delightful theory to explain this...obsession of mine.
As a lot of people who know me might know, I enjoy reading and playing computer games. And for people who know me even better, they would know that when I'm absorbed in one of those activities, I'm completely dead to the world. It's like being enclosed in a tiny little bubble where I just focus on that one thing.
Why do I do that? Single-mindedness I suppose. That's the nice explanation, naturally.
The not-so-nice one, and probably the main reason, is that I just wanted to escape from the real world for a while. I wrap myself up in my activity and just ignore everything.
Running away is my forte.
How well I know that.
Heh. Chaos knows even better than me. He's watching. All the time.
Kid, you gotta spruce up one of this days.
Coming from you? *arches eyebrow* Now that's a shocker.
Hey I'm not that bad. I'm just...uh...just...chaotic?
Lame, Chaos. Very lame. Is that the best you can do?
......just so you know, I actually do care about you...from time to time.
Oh I'm so relieved. *sarcastic*
So why do I like BoA so much? Why do I obsess over her? Why her of all people?
If you still haven't figured it out by now, well, the only thing I can say is this: "How slow can you get?"
No offense to slow people.
The above statement is obviously a lie. Since when did she care about offending the intellectually deprived?
Whatever Chaos. Stop stating the obvious.
Ha! See!
Meh. So immature.
My obsession with BoA is a form of escape really. Just drowning myself in her gives me something to think about other than the whole meaningless existence that is my life. I just needed something, someone, to distract me from the harsh reality.
Escapism might be cowardly, but it sure helps get you through to the next day.
Even though it might make the next day even worse.
I keep having this vague feeling that everything I'm doing (school, BoA, playing, living) are just distractions. They feel so...meaningless at times to me.
The only thing that means anything to me is writing, and even then I can never focus enough to do it. Too many distractions, and the ills of life isn't making things any better.
........
*silence*
......Chaos, it's your line.
Oh really? What did you want me to......oh. I guess it really applies to you huh?
Just shut up and say it.
Fine. Chaos needs order to exist. Without stability, there can be no chaos.
Ironic. It's so ironic I wanna laugh. And then maybe break down in bitter tears a few minutes later.
I need stability. I don't want distractions. I need order and calm in my life.
Double irony.
Chaos is what got me this far. Chaos made me the person I am. And I'm not referring to that annoying guest in my head. I mean all the problems that have cropped up in my life thus far.
I would never have matured as a writer without all the trials and tribulations that I have gone through. Now that I wish to focus on writing, I don't have the peace I need to carry it out.
Yet it is also that internal chaos that spurs me on, drives me, and whips me to lift my writing to greater emotional heights. My internal struggle gives me my flair and inspiration.
Should I experience peace, such as the time where I turned to religion, I could no longer write. The driving force was gone. The inner spark caused by all that painful friction in my mind and soul was extinguished.
The only way to get a spark is to strike two objects together. This very act of friction causes the spark that ignites the flame.
I desire inner peace. Yet at the same time I abhor it.
To lose my inspiration is anathema to me. I would sooner gouge out my eyes than give that up.
Yet I so desperately want calm and stability in my life. I want someone to comfort me, make sure that I was alright. I needed things to be smooth-going, at least marginally.
But I can only have one at a time. I can't have both of those at the same time. Their existences clash and contradict with each other.
The only way for me to achieve inner harmony is to abandon my gift and embrace the peace of God.
I could never do that. My gift, if that is the correct word, is everything to me. It is my life. Taking it away is worse than just killing me. If my gift of writing was gone, then what good am I? What could I contribute to this world? I would be no more than a walking corpse, like so many others on this lump of dirt known as Earth. I would be waste of oxygen and resources. I would be nothing, no, less than nothing.
A gift? More like a curse.
Yet it is a curse I embrace, even though it denies me entry to heaven.
I know all this about me. Yet I can do nothing.
Oh my Father in heaven, why art thou doing this to me?
Quote:
The most important lesson of my life was to know how stupid I am.
]
I was watching a BoA video (duh), one of the Dakishimeru performances.
Normally, I would feel very happy just looking at it, but for some reason watching her perform made a sad pang go off in my heart.
How much of that dazzling smile is real? I saw her forehead crease momentarily, as if she was in pain. It was a blink-and-you-miss-it detail, and seeing it made me sad.
The way her face seems to contract in upon herself when she thinks the camera is not on her (it was, unfortunately), it wounds an ardent fan like myself.
Some might feel it silly to be so affected by someone who doesn't even know about your existence. Perhaps it is. Perhaps it's foolish to devote time and affection to a distant figure who probably will never know who the heck you are.
I always wondered why I liked BoA so much. Sure, I can come up with a thousand and one reasons why I love her now, but why did I even like anybody to begin with? I have never really been a fan of anybody prior to BoA. I liked certain songs and admired certain artistes, but never fell head over heels for one the way I did for BoA.
Was it a fad? I mean, not the kind that everybody follows in mainstream society. It's for me to answer the "who's your favorite singer" question. I always wondered if that played a part in my subconsciousness when accepting BoA as the light of my teeny weeny little life.
Yeah so that was a little cynical.
A little?
Fine, very cynical. What does it matter? Indeed, does anything matter?
Touche.
Anyway, getting back to the point. I have a less than delightful theory to explain this...obsession of mine.
As a lot of people who know me might know, I enjoy reading and playing computer games. And for people who know me even better, they would know that when I'm absorbed in one of those activities, I'm completely dead to the world. It's like being enclosed in a tiny little bubble where I just focus on that one thing.
Why do I do that? Single-mindedness I suppose. That's the nice explanation, naturally.
The not-so-nice one, and probably the main reason, is that I just wanted to escape from the real world for a while. I wrap myself up in my activity and just ignore everything.
Running away is my forte.
How well I know that.
Heh. Chaos knows even better than me. He's watching. All the time.
Kid, you gotta spruce up one of this days.
Coming from you? *arches eyebrow* Now that's a shocker.
Hey I'm not that bad. I'm just...uh...just...chaotic?
Lame, Chaos. Very lame. Is that the best you can do?
......just so you know, I actually do care about you...from time to time.
Oh I'm so relieved. *sarcastic*
So why do I like BoA so much? Why do I obsess over her? Why her of all people?
If you still haven't figured it out by now, well, the only thing I can say is this: "How slow can you get?"
No offense to slow people.
The above statement is obviously a lie. Since when did she care about offending the intellectually deprived?
Whatever Chaos. Stop stating the obvious.
Ha! See!
Meh. So immature.
My obsession with BoA is a form of escape really. Just drowning myself in her gives me something to think about other than the whole meaningless existence that is my life. I just needed something, someone, to distract me from the harsh reality.
Escapism might be cowardly, but it sure helps get you through to the next day.
Even though it might make the next day even worse.
I keep having this vague feeling that everything I'm doing (school, BoA, playing, living) are just distractions. They feel so...meaningless at times to me.
The only thing that means anything to me is writing, and even then I can never focus enough to do it. Too many distractions, and the ills of life isn't making things any better.
........
*silence*
......Chaos, it's your line.
Oh really? What did you want me to......oh. I guess it really applies to you huh?
Just shut up and say it.
Fine. Chaos needs order to exist. Without stability, there can be no chaos.
Ironic. It's so ironic I wanna laugh. And then maybe break down in bitter tears a few minutes later.
I need stability. I don't want distractions. I need order and calm in my life.
Double irony.
Chaos is what got me this far. Chaos made me the person I am. And I'm not referring to that annoying guest in my head. I mean all the problems that have cropped up in my life thus far.
I would never have matured as a writer without all the trials and tribulations that I have gone through. Now that I wish to focus on writing, I don't have the peace I need to carry it out.
Yet it is also that internal chaos that spurs me on, drives me, and whips me to lift my writing to greater emotional heights. My internal struggle gives me my flair and inspiration.
Should I experience peace, such as the time where I turned to religion, I could no longer write. The driving force was gone. The inner spark caused by all that painful friction in my mind and soul was extinguished.
The only way to get a spark is to strike two objects together. This very act of friction causes the spark that ignites the flame.
I desire inner peace. Yet at the same time I abhor it.
To lose my inspiration is anathema to me. I would sooner gouge out my eyes than give that up.
Yet I so desperately want calm and stability in my life. I want someone to comfort me, make sure that I was alright. I needed things to be smooth-going, at least marginally.
But I can only have one at a time. I can't have both of those at the same time. Their existences clash and contradict with each other.
The only way for me to achieve inner harmony is to abandon my gift and embrace the peace of God.
I could never do that. My gift, if that is the correct word, is everything to me. It is my life. Taking it away is worse than just killing me. If my gift of writing was gone, then what good am I? What could I contribute to this world? I would be no more than a walking corpse, like so many others on this lump of dirt known as Earth. I would be waste of oxygen and resources. I would be nothing, no, less than nothing.
A gift? More like a curse.
Yet it is a curse I embrace, even though it denies me entry to heaven.
I know all this about me. Yet I can do nothing.
Oh my Father in heaven, why art thou doing this to me?
Quote:
The most important lesson of my life was to know how stupid I am.
Comments:
Post a Comment
