Sunday, April 16, 2006
Listening to 再一次拥有。
Now, whenever I hear this song, I'm torn between wanting to throttle WMP, or just rolling my eyes and sighing. It's so....so....melodramatic. Haha.
Not wanting to sound mean or anything, but I'm terribly grateful that I've never been in love before. Because it also implies that I've never fallen OUT of love before. And that, considering the kind of heartbreak I've witnessed in others, is an infinite blessing in my wretched little life.
Ok, I'm exaggerating slightly. You know, the 'wretched little life' bit.
Yeah, gasp all you want. Angsty old me is actually denying that I have a wretched life. The sky must have fallen down. Blah.
When you get right down to it, my life is pretty average. Normal, so to speak. Let's have a look.
One, I'm in a respectable JC. That's good, right? I sort of have a place in life.
Two, I do not have any romantic entanglements, thus meaning that I have no romantic problems. Another plus point I guess.
Three, I have a close knit circle of friends that I reasonably trust. I might not be a social butterfly, but in reality, I don't have to be that in order to get ahead in life.
Four, I have a semi-stable family. That is, I get my pocket money, and they generally leave me alone. Discounting the fact that I'm missing a mother, and also the fact that my relatives tend to rub my nerves raw, AND the fact that my dad's dating (again), my family life is pretty much a constant.
Five, I'm talented and intelligent. Not trying to brag here, but it's a fact. I believe it's not bragging if it's true. It only counts as bragging only if you overinflate it...or keep talking about it.
There. I believe this little exercise in listing the normalcy in my life is otherwise known as "counting one's blessings". It's supposed to be some sort of a healthy activity. Go me.
But scrolling up and looking over the points again, I'm seized by a powerful urge to rebut and issue counter-arguments. Occupational hazard from doing too many GP essays. Ugh.
Ok, let's have a look at the counter-arguments, shall we?
One, I might be in a respectable JC, but my studies are practically self-destructing (mostly thanks to my heck-careness) and my university admission chances are decreasing at an increasing rate. I don't really think that's good, eh?
Two, no romantic entanglements...not easy to rebut. Not. Let's just say that even someone like me needs more than platonic relationships occasionally. I'm not a complete iceberg. But the sad lack of even the merest hint of romantic relationships in my life is a pretty hard reality. I've learnt not to care...too much.
Three, nothing much to rebut here. Small group of friends is good. I don't have the emotional energy to keep up with a large social circle. But even within my small group, I wish for someone I can just pour out everything to. I have Chengwei and Kanai and occasionally Grace for this, but there's always something missing somehow...
Four, let's just face it, I have a dysfunctional family. No mother, father with mood swings worse than a woman in menopause or pregnancy (plus violent temperament to boot), granny who constantly lives in the past and wishes that she were dead...... Not exactly your average postcard-friendly nuclear family. And I have aunts who waltz into my life trying to take charge or be sympathetic...when for four years they ignored my very existence and only noticed that hey, I'm actually alive in a remote corner of Singapore when my granny comes over to live with us. Hypocritical much? Can you blame me for not liking them? Maybe it's childish to hold a grudge like that, but I find it difficult to trust people like that. Sorry, no second chances here. I'm grateful for all the assistance rendered when granny is here, but don't expect anything more from me.
Five, well, finally something that I can sort of take comfort in. In the words of someone from my past though, I have amazing talent---a dark talent, but talent nevertheless. It both pains and amuses me that my talent was born out of tears and suffering. I strongly feel that my writing skill and maturity would never have progressed so far or so quickly had my mother not passed away when she did. A mixed blessing, in a sense. I love my talent, but I dislike the circumstances in which it had to be nurtured. Unfortunately, it's not something I can conceivably change, so I have to live with the consequences. If nothing else, it's the only thing that is truly constant in my life, sans the occasional writer's block.
Well, there's the rebuttals. Chengwei was right about one thing though. He said that if I ignored all the niggling little things that bother me in my life, my life would be very disgustingly normal. But then again, that piece of advice applies to just about every single person on this planet, doesn't it? If we ignore the nasty things in life, and only look at the good parts, we'd all be happy and contented. There would be fewer depression cases and suicides, and life in general would be more beautiful.
Sounds terribly wonderful, doesn't it? All in its cookie-cutter perfection, with the perfect icing and the perfect setting.
And how utterly boring it would be. Where's the fun in life when everybody's happy? Not trying to sound sadistic here, but variety makes for more fun, and happiness is all the more satisfying in the light of external sadness in the lives of others. I know it sounds awful, but we appreciate our own happiness more when we get to view the misery of others. Or have experienced misery ourselves before. If there were no sadness, we would all take happiness for granted and not even learn how to appreciate it.
Actually, if there were no sadness, then what meaning does happiness have? Happiness and sadness are relative to each other. Take the existence of one away, and the other ceases to contain any real relevance in itself anymore. Simply because there would only be one state, and with no counterweight, one cannot gauge the degree within that state, and thus it loses meaning. Uniformity can be such a staid existence.
Ok I'm starting to delve into one of those deep discussions on Existence and other philosophical nonsense. So before I go into an extended discussion on that subject, perhaps here would be a good place to end off.
Ciao.
]
Now, whenever I hear this song, I'm torn between wanting to throttle WMP, or just rolling my eyes and sighing. It's so....so....melodramatic. Haha.
Not wanting to sound mean or anything, but I'm terribly grateful that I've never been in love before. Because it also implies that I've never fallen OUT of love before. And that, considering the kind of heartbreak I've witnessed in others, is an infinite blessing in my wretched little life.
Ok, I'm exaggerating slightly. You know, the 'wretched little life' bit.
Yeah, gasp all you want. Angsty old me is actually denying that I have a wretched life. The sky must have fallen down. Blah.
When you get right down to it, my life is pretty average. Normal, so to speak. Let's have a look.
One, I'm in a respectable JC. That's good, right? I sort of have a place in life.
Two, I do not have any romantic entanglements, thus meaning that I have no romantic problems. Another plus point I guess.
Three, I have a close knit circle of friends that I reasonably trust. I might not be a social butterfly, but in reality, I don't have to be that in order to get ahead in life.
Four, I have a semi-stable family. That is, I get my pocket money, and they generally leave me alone. Discounting the fact that I'm missing a mother, and also the fact that my relatives tend to rub my nerves raw, AND the fact that my dad's dating (again), my family life is pretty much a constant.
Five, I'm talented and intelligent. Not trying to brag here, but it's a fact. I believe it's not bragging if it's true. It only counts as bragging only if you overinflate it...or keep talking about it.
There. I believe this little exercise in listing the normalcy in my life is otherwise known as "counting one's blessings". It's supposed to be some sort of a healthy activity. Go me.
But scrolling up and looking over the points again, I'm seized by a powerful urge to rebut and issue counter-arguments. Occupational hazard from doing too many GP essays. Ugh.
Ok, let's have a look at the counter-arguments, shall we?
One, I might be in a respectable JC, but my studies are practically self-destructing (mostly thanks to my heck-careness) and my university admission chances are decreasing at an increasing rate. I don't really think that's good, eh?
Two, no romantic entanglements...not easy to rebut. Not. Let's just say that even someone like me needs more than platonic relationships occasionally. I'm not a complete iceberg. But the sad lack of even the merest hint of romantic relationships in my life is a pretty hard reality. I've learnt not to care...too much.
Three, nothing much to rebut here. Small group of friends is good. I don't have the emotional energy to keep up with a large social circle. But even within my small group, I wish for someone I can just pour out everything to. I have Chengwei and Kanai and occasionally Grace for this, but there's always something missing somehow...
Four, let's just face it, I have a dysfunctional family. No mother, father with mood swings worse than a woman in menopause or pregnancy (plus violent temperament to boot), granny who constantly lives in the past and wishes that she were dead...... Not exactly your average postcard-friendly nuclear family. And I have aunts who waltz into my life trying to take charge or be sympathetic...when for four years they ignored my very existence and only noticed that hey, I'm actually alive in a remote corner of Singapore when my granny comes over to live with us. Hypocritical much? Can you blame me for not liking them? Maybe it's childish to hold a grudge like that, but I find it difficult to trust people like that. Sorry, no second chances here. I'm grateful for all the assistance rendered when granny is here, but don't expect anything more from me.
Five, well, finally something that I can sort of take comfort in. In the words of someone from my past though, I have amazing talent---a dark talent, but talent nevertheless. It both pains and amuses me that my talent was born out of tears and suffering. I strongly feel that my writing skill and maturity would never have progressed so far or so quickly had my mother not passed away when she did. A mixed blessing, in a sense. I love my talent, but I dislike the circumstances in which it had to be nurtured. Unfortunately, it's not something I can conceivably change, so I have to live with the consequences. If nothing else, it's the only thing that is truly constant in my life, sans the occasional writer's block.
Well, there's the rebuttals. Chengwei was right about one thing though. He said that if I ignored all the niggling little things that bother me in my life, my life would be very disgustingly normal. But then again, that piece of advice applies to just about every single person on this planet, doesn't it? If we ignore the nasty things in life, and only look at the good parts, we'd all be happy and contented. There would be fewer depression cases and suicides, and life in general would be more beautiful.
Sounds terribly wonderful, doesn't it? All in its cookie-cutter perfection, with the perfect icing and the perfect setting.
And how utterly boring it would be. Where's the fun in life when everybody's happy? Not trying to sound sadistic here, but variety makes for more fun, and happiness is all the more satisfying in the light of external sadness in the lives of others. I know it sounds awful, but we appreciate our own happiness more when we get to view the misery of others. Or have experienced misery ourselves before. If there were no sadness, we would all take happiness for granted and not even learn how to appreciate it.
Actually, if there were no sadness, then what meaning does happiness have? Happiness and sadness are relative to each other. Take the existence of one away, and the other ceases to contain any real relevance in itself anymore. Simply because there would only be one state, and with no counterweight, one cannot gauge the degree within that state, and thus it loses meaning. Uniformity can be such a staid existence.
Ok I'm starting to delve into one of those deep discussions on Existence and other philosophical nonsense. So before I go into an extended discussion on that subject, perhaps here would be a good place to end off.
Ciao.
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