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Yes, I am back with a vengeance, fulfilling my social responsibility to the people who have asked me why I haven't been writing recently.
Today, I am going to treat this blog as my pensieve and extract all my thoughts from it. We always talk about information overload being one of the main effects of globalisation in class and there are times when I understand exactly what it means to have that. Since I do not live in a magical world (alas!), the next closest alternative shall be a product of the technological world - the Internet.
I am shallow
There are times when I wonder at my interest in the world. Sure, I enjoy reading news and I like to keep myself abreast of the issues that are rocking the globe. I know about the bird flu, the Democrats' process of finding a presidential candidate (Kerry is leading so far) and the current price of COE etc.
But really, I am more interested in trivial stuff. Like fighting to get tickets for the Lord of The Rings Trilogy Marathon. Like trying desperately to catch the French movie Love Me If You Dare before it ends. Like looking out for the perfect pair of palazzo capris and rubber thong heels. Like trying to get hold of Norah Jones' music illegally.
Sometimes, I wonder whatever happened to me along the way. Where did that girl who loved Oscar Wilde and the old Bard himself go? What happened to the person who used to love improvisation sessions with her TSD group mates? Is the girl who used to take to the challenge of conducting practical criticism on poetry written by the likes of Sylvia Plath dead and gone? If so, who buried her? And why? And where? Can she be resurrected again, like Buffy (see what I mean when I say shallow)?
I question the sanctity of Marriage
Yes, as you can see, I have grown cynical to the "till death do us part" ideal. I used to believe in The One (ala The Matrix), thinking that in this world, there will be someone who is right for us. Not perfect to us, mind you, but perfect for us. Oh, the grandeur of it all.
Basically, it's all an illusion. In this time and age, people are walking away from unions faster than you can say "Supercalifragilisticaspialadocious". If it breaks, get a new one. Nobody really gives a damn about "working things out" anymore. Men thinks that the women are complaining too damn much. Women sniff that the men are insensitive bastards. Well, both parties are right. So, why bother?
But then I look around me and I see that love actually is all around me. I see it in a man who simply cannot bear to cause grief and hurt to the woman he loves. I see it in a mother whose greatest achievement is giving birth to an adorable and excitable boy. I see it in an elderly couple, who held hands as they walked and sat down at the beach to watch the sunset.
I start believing again.
And the next vicious cycle of heartache begins all over again.
Stress gets the better of me
The flood of work has begun to engulf me again. And as much as I relish it, my emotional side gets the better of me and I find myself sinking into the murky depths again.
The skies are grey and life seems bleak. I am getting crap honours. And my pay will be miserable since working in the media does not pay much. I have exorbitant fees to pay off. My arteries are clogging due to the fatty foods that I eat and I will die of a heart attack by the time I turn 30. And when I die, I will be penniless (due to aforementioned pathetic salary), loveless (given my miniscule social circle and lack of social skills) and full of loneliness (friends having all married long ago with 2.5 kids and 5Cs).
Wait.
Am I 23 or 83?
I want to strike Toto
Right.
That's my ultimate goal. Strike Toto and I will do the following things:
But in the meantime, I shall have to stop dreaming and start getting back to work.