I spent Friday night realizing that I’m bound to have a lot on my mind these next few weeks.  The idea of having the ‘tireless soul of an artist’ might come to realization soon.  Some people might say that running away is obviously a coward’s key to living; I fully agree.  But I never claimed to be a brave bear, although I have to admit that I should rightfully see what I’ve started to the bitter end — if only because it’s righteous.

[I usually hide my non-existent Christianty by harping about how I don't have to show God how much I love Him because living righteously is a great way of giving Him the slip.]

I’m rather happy that I still have the urge…strike that…I’m quite happy that I still have the will to want to make a change.  I’d usually be a complacent cow and take things as they are, but the fact that I’m flirting with the thought of reining in a catalyst for change is a sign that I’m starting to really think.

I only wish that I could think like that more often.  It’s getting easier for me to get swayed by a consensus, rather than my conscience; it doesn’t help that my conscience is seldom clear.

So, yeah: why don’t I throw a prospective curveball into the mix and see how it goes?

** * * * * * *

I saw a quick recap on the news about this.  The source of the report may be a bit biased, but focus more on the story than who’s behind it.

I think I’m growing old in a sense that it outright saddens me to take a look at conflict between different people.  The EDL have every right to state their case and represent their fears, but some might see it as scarily extremist behaviour.  It’s very iffy.  I’m always behind a moderate stance [fencesitting is a smart Chinese thing to do!], so I can only say that the Leftists have every right to be miffed at the EDL.  Is the EDL a league full of fear mongerers, or is their case really justified?

After all, when your doors are open wide, anyone can come in.  You don’t even need to place a Welcome mat.

The times are not changing.  Not anytime soon.

I haven’t had a schedule this packed in what feels like a long time. My weekends have suddenly come alive, and things are going at full speed…my only fear is that I’m not able to play catch-up with the world around me. I suppose that I should be thankful, but there’s that lazy idiot in me that wishes for the occasional six hour marathon FIFA session — please note that it’s been duly taken care of (if you’re a fan of accumulative, abridged entertainment — hardly what you’d call a ‘marathon’).

I’ll be in Kota Kinabalu in a week, and I’m looking forward to that. The last true vacation I had involved a mystic quest, but now, things have changed — I’m totally focused on doing absolutely nothing at all, and having all the time in the world to reflect upon what my next steps will be.

I got wind of some startling news at the beginning of this week that substantially rocked my world. It’s still tugging around at the back of my head, but I’ve filed it under a WIP folder in my mind for further action, if the need should ever arise for action to be taken. I’m not really a man of action; I’m more of a man of sloth. And gluttony. Gluttony is good.

Greed is good.

These last few weeks have been pleasant, to say the least. The second issue of the magazine was released to rave (self-anointed) reviews, and we’re making sure that the third issue will be better. There’s no such thing as a marked improvement — everything’s a constant cycle, and resting on your laurels only means that you’re letting complacency set in. Though to be honest with you, the whole idea of dedicating a volume of a magazine to weddings/marriages scares me.

Aside from the magazine, there’s something else that’s been going on that sort of leaves me with a strange feeling of wonderment. And befuddlement. I live my life being befuddled, so it’s really nothing new. I’m just antsy, I suppose. And befuddled. And sheepish. I’m in another one of those things that leave me scratching the back of my head, staring at a game plan and truly wondering what comes next. I suppose a small part of me is looking for some sort of affirmation, while the rest of me is being overly cautious.

Anyway, it’s just one more week to go.  Anything can happen.

Affirmation is a pain.  Seeking it is even more of a pain.

Here’s an image underneath for what I can expect from October.  I’ll leave it to you to speculate the meaning.  Let’s just say that it’s another line to cross along my way to learning how to be financially independent.

I hope.

Save me, Artoo!

I want to start a fight with myself.  I hope that on a fine weekend morning in the near future, I awaken to find my evil twin at the foot of my bed, mocking me.  He’d berate me for all the things that I find lacking in myself.

Fickle.

Slow.

Dawdling.

Fidgety.

Impatient.

A list.  A list would spew forth from his mouth, and then he’d charge at me and push me through the wall, into my neighbour’s soon-to-be-completed monstrousity of a renovated landed property.  We’d battle it out in this skeleton of a home.  I’d take him by the scruff of his neck, and repeatedly crush him into the pillars, thus destroying the foundation of the house and having the ceiling collapse on top of us.

When the dust would settle, we’d duke it out for a little while longer, before he’d have the upper hand and use leverage against me, pulling me over and impaling me on a protruding pylon.

He’d then take my identity, and be the guy that I never could be.

I wish this would happen.  Because I look at myself now and I feel incredibly confused.  And if the clone can set things straight, then be it as it may.  Take my name and make me great.

You’re going to make a king of me.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I can’t maintain a relationship, even when I’m in one.  You can either call it wanderlust or foolhardyness, but I’m always one knows a good thing when he sees one…who then proceeds to ruin it for himself.  Maybe it’s my inability to resist the urge to tear things apart and go gonzo over life.  Why throw a dice?  Only two things can happen when you jump into a turdpile, and both conclusions deny you the privilege of coming out and smelling like a rose.

I just want to have fun.  I’ve got my life ahead of me, and I don’t see what’s wrong with taking a year off from being Chinese.  The game plan that I’d laid down for myself eons ago hasn’t come into fruition, and I’ve repeatedly declared my nonchalance.

Ah.  My weak, meek heart.  I fall easily, and I fall hard.  There’s nothing more enticing than a set of great eyes and a good head on a shoulder.  It doesn’t take that much to sway me off my feet; it’s the thrill of the swaying that most guys live for.  And, in all honesty, I’m no different.  There’ve really been only three people I could openly admit having true feelings for.  And I don’t really know if there’d be a fourth.

I can’t settle for less.  But I won’t settle for nothing.  I think it’s easier to just walk into something and lay down the terms so that nobody gets disappointed or confused.  Relationships are a negotiation.

I’m supposed to know better and learn from my past mistakes.  I can’t really gauge how well I’ve done that.  All I can do now is to live for the moment and to jump from one sinking ship to the next, in the hopes that one of them will have its holes plugged up.  Ah.

What a metaphor.

Feh.

At that time where my parents are probably flirting with the idea of having grandchildren, I’m still trying my best to get Chun Li to notice me from behind the screen.

Priorities?

What priorities?

Supersonic actuators are slowly building a crescendo in my head.

I was happier then, when my mind was at ease and my balls were firmly connected to my pelvis.

Now, every day seems surreal. Driving to work has become an adventure in itself. The people I know and the people I meet remind me of cardboard cutouts that sprang to life from some strange quarry in the back of my mind.

Then it repeats itself. An incredibly sickening, overplayed mantra that rings true for every one of us: ‘there’s got to be more than this’.

Some people can be incredibly satisfied with what they have. Some people are more than happy to settle for less. Some people know what they want. Some people know what they don’t want.

I don’t want to go thru each day like it doesn’t exist. But I think I’ve come to a point where it doesn’t really make a difference anymore.

I’m so tired.

Living for the moment still seems to be a far better alternative to drawing up a road map.

There is no plan. There’s no method to the madness.

You do what you want because you feel that it’s right.

You do what you want because you feel that you want to.

You do what you want because you feel that you can.

We don’t get many chances to be swept up in whatever moments we find ourselves in.

Maybe it’s time we changed all that.

For some time or other for these last two weeks, I’ve been wishing for something to spontaneously combust during my day.

I’ve been starting to feel the pull of monotony taking over. What was once drudgery has now evolved into a different kind of beast; a beast where aloofness is the norm, and where the chances of becoming wayward are as slim as a eunuch being tadpole-armed.

I don’t expect excitement to be procured over the course of the immediate future. It’d just be brilliant if I could pull myself out of the hole that I’ve dug. The bright side of all this is that the aforementioned hole is starting to become more shallow by a will of its own.

There’s got to be more than this.