|
tragicurlyhip
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: GeneOcide and aCaseofyou
Country: Singapore
Birthday: 4/1/1979
Expertise:
Geneocide
Peranakan; Perfect, Prestigious & Proud of it. All beginning with the letter P. Coincidence? I think not.
Links to other excellent non-xangarian writers. Respect:
Message: message me
ICQ:  3911972
Member Since:
6/11/2003
|
|
| Geneocide says::
It’s
the 4th anniversary of my 25th birthday. Woopie doo.
Each
year I fall into a bout of depression in the weeks leading up to my birthday
and it gets worse as the days draw closer. It’s the one time a year i whine like a bitch. I get unreasonable, short fused and highly
sensitive. And don’t tell me that “oh, it’s okay for guys to be older, blah blah
blah.” I’m not upset about growing old, I’m just upset. Period. I am aware of
these emotions, but I’m unable to do anything to prevent myself from reacting
negatively. I’m sure the girls can empathize with me.
Note
to self: that was really uncool, Gene. You need to de-pussify yourself
damnit.
This year’s depressive streak is quite different. Intense. Darker. Almost
sentient.
A
couple of years ago, I set out to create a business from scratch. It was
supposed to be my ticket to financial and personal freedom. To be able to
choose my own destiny and mould other’s destiny along with mine.
Some
things have got to give in order to achieve greater glory. Freedom has a price
and I’m willing to pay for it. I stopped hanging out with my friends because that
would mean wasting time and good money on alcohol. I stopped learning to play
the guitar because that time spent could be put to better use developing the
business. The Relationship has got to take the backseat for the time being. If
she truly loves me, she’ll wait. After all, we’ve been together for a while,
what’s a little longer?
2008.
Today. Time has put a distant between my buddies and I. Sometimes we try to “catch
up” and relive the old times but the feeling just isn’t the same. It’s forced
pretense at its best. My guitar is covered with dust, the wood warped and its
string broken. Pretty much a reflection of what I have become. If my guitar
could talk, she’d probably say the same thing when she looked at me. Dusty, out
of tune and entirely warped. Relationship ended sometime last year. I’m not
sure when it withered out, but by the time she actually spoke to me about it,
it was too freakin’ late.
Business
took off somewhat. I have enough contracts in my lap to run the business for
the year smoothly. (Of cause ‘smoothly’
isn’t exactly smooth because our dear
God has a cruel sense of humor.)
Sweet
smell of freedom… but I ain’t breaking into a song and dance anytime soon. Finally
taking the time to raise my head from the blueprint of my life, I see nothing
around me. Bleak.
I
need to do something but I don’t have a plan yet. A friend over MSN suggested I
seek answers through Him. Can’t go wrong with that. So I did.
Dear
God, I need to get out of this rut. Now, I know you’re not big on direct
answers and you work in mysterious of ways. But for Chirst’s sake, could you just
tell it to me in my face what I…
*ding*
MSN window pops up…. 
Holy
mother of god....
| | |
| The old who are the forgottenOld age.
A topic which makes me feel pity, regret and isolation. Sadness mostly.
The aged are but the forgotten, in their dingy and dark homes, and when
they meet with an accident, you see them in hospitals, all alone,
curled up and desolate. It grabs at my heart, pulls and refuses to let
go. Is this a fate which must befall us all? is it inevitable? that
people do not want to be with the old and the destitute. Visits at CNY
and other festive occasions are usually met with obligatory greetings
and the giving of ang baos, and thats it! you can't wait to get away
from them, to move on with your own existence.
Loneliness is something which every human does not deserve to have, yet
how is it that old people end up surviving all alone, depressed and on
the verge of suicide? How is it that our society has degenerated to
such a point?
The young, do not forget, you will get there some day too.
| | |
| Jazz..Jazz.. is such an amazing genre of music.
It fits every mood.
When i'm feeling down and alone, it fits my pensiveness exactly... the
strains sound so pensive and lonely in the dark vast night.
When I feel too emotional, I can touch the detached quality of the
music that reminds me that not everything matters. Nothing matters.
When I feel romantic, the music dances together with me.
When i just feel that all is not right, when i feel all frazzled and bruised, jazz is like a soothing balm unto me.
It is such sweet sorrow.
-acaseofyou
| | |
| Ear plugsI'm addicted to ear-plugs. when i sleep.
Why, it resulted from this particular night when i felt that the
ticking of my clock was especially loud, and the pots and pans banging
around in the kitchen in the early morning nearly drove me nuts.
probably a result of moving bedrooms. No, I'm not gonna let this cause
dark eye rings, and so I had this brilliant idea of ear plugs!!! I
happily went to the pharmacy, and bought a pair for $1.20. Problem
solved...
Until.. I started to have disconcerted thoughts of going for 1 night
without ear plugs. I mean, what if I lose them in the dark depths of my
mattress? Until i thought, what if I travel, and you all know strange
places sure have strange noises..so what, am i gonna have to survive on
ear plugs for the rest of my life? I'm also afraid that it may affect
my ear tunnels in the long run - no air circulation, u know?
Yes, I've also told about 3 people so far, in an effort for suggestions
to wean me off them, all of whom had responses from disbelief
*incredulous look*, and *you're crazy* looks, but.. no suggestions. So,
in desperation, I'm throwing it to the floor. so now, my (aha) deep
dark secret is out...
Does anyone else have this problem? or knows anyone with this problem?
what should I do...
-acaseofyou
| | |
| Edit: I did it! finally posted it. now keeping my fingers crossed for a reply...
___________________________________
Fear and trembling, leads to doubt and procrastination, which in turn
leads to regret. I really don't want to go down that route, and i think
regret among the worst of all emotions. If i could eradicate that
totally, I would do anything to achieve it. And now I find myself
somewhere between the first and second stage, which would invariably
lead me to that which i fear most. Has anyone of you read 'The
Alchemist' by Paulo Coelho?If so, then you would know exactly what I'm
talking about.
Among my greatest dreams in life is to have a career that I love, and
all my life I've wanted to be a journalist or writer. Its only at this
late stage that I'm beginning to go pursue it, but simply because
writing is so important to me, that I'm afraid of failing to even get
it, of being told I'm not good enough, or even worse, discovering I
don't even want it as a career and eventually what I love would become
something that I begin to dread. So sometimes I think, maybe I should
keep it as a leisure pursuit.
So, I've been pursuing some contacts for feature writing, nothing
serious. But everytime I look at that SPH application form and cover
letter I've printed out and put in my in-tray, I can taste that feeling
of doubt coming over me, of wanting to take that giant step but not
being able to accept rejection. And so, that application remains in the
in-tray of my life, but would I ever have the courage to take that leap
of faith. Couple that with developments at work and I can safely say
i'm in a stage of limbo.
sigh...
-acaseofyou
| | |
|
|
