Monday, July 23, 2007
4:43 pm
Sometimes I think that I'm too good a listener and just too incompetent a speaker.
Granted, having a good listener around is something anyone would wish for from time to time, but it'll be nice that the listener who wants to speak can have people listening to him or her for a change.
Sometimes I wonder if I had ever been taken seriously.
I mean, my own lame jokes and crappiness aside, there are times when I have things to say and no one bothers to listen just because it'll be just another deliberately-difficult-to-laugh-at joke/pun that only I am capable of making.
I know that I'm not a people's person, and that I'll be very glad to be any person's people if ever needed. Still, it might be a good experience to not be unheard and to not be considered only as an afterthought.
Sometimes I talk to myself and run silent conversations with my inner child at the back of my head. I let my thoughts run unhindered, brash, uncontrollable, and I can't help but confirm that no one really understands me.
Sure, people know me- sarcastic, cynical, full of lame things to say, dependable, doesn't know how to reject others' requests (believe me, that is one difficult habit to break)- but that's only half of me.
Well, normal people don't go around proudly parading their darker thoughts, showing off their sadistic nature in all its glory, or openly speaking about how yaoi/slash stories and mangas are actually a good read and so totally hot.
I don't intend on scaring away my friends so fast yet, seeing as only my secondary school friends and Phoenix are the bunch of people who are closest to knowing the extent of how dark I can be.
I know what I look like to most: always with a strange joke to tell, silly puns spilling all over the place, but I have my own insecurities; everyone has them, no?
Let's see, how shall I start?
I'm scared about sharing a life with someone until the end of my existence. I find that notion about 'forever, 'til death do us part' is horrifyingly intimidating.
Don't even get me started on things like realising each other's strange habits, tiny quirks, the "I need to separate the chopsticks from the fork and spoon everytime because he doesn't" kind of small things, the "I need to curl on my side to sleep comfortably but he wants me lying straight so he can cradle my head" crap of a sleeping arrangement...
Goodness! How will I ever survive a marriage?
I fear about never getting a good enough job.
There is this thing about working in a dingy cubicle typing out documents after documents of crap until I retire (or unluckily, get retrenched) that sets off my anxiety about any possible future working life.
Or that I'll never get to learn what I've wanted to. There's that Japanese language where I'm still stuck at simple sentences like "Anta wa aho da! Watashi no muchuu ni omae wa chiisai no bakuteria da! Zenzen mitsukenai!"
I don't even know if that sentence structure is correct.
And I have Latin lined up after that.
Then there's ballroom dancing. Don't you find tango very intriguing?
I've thought about learning geology or astronomy in university, besides my own business course. Mathematics popped by my mind once but given that I went Poly instead of JC, I don't have an A's certificate to prove that I actually am proficient enough in that subject.
I fear that no one reads my blog.
Let me have a quiet laugh at that. Or at myself.
Because, well, I've started this blog as an outlet for my thoughts, my ramblings... You know, crazy me-stuff.
Yet there's so much more here that defines who I am because there are things I say here that I don't in person. So many thoughts that no one bothers to listen to when I speak of them- in person.
There's another side of me here, or a continuation of me, in this little cyber space where reality and virtual reality bend so much you'd feel them criss-cross, interlink, blend and are almost meld into one.
It's easier to speak freely here. No looks of surprised horror, unbelieving stares, no one to disregard me (because I won't know anyway and that can't hurt at all) and no one to interrupt whatever it is that I want to say.
Yes, I fear that no one reads my blog because I'm narcissistic that way, and people'd understand me just THAT much more if they took the time to read what I say instead of skipping right to what they want.
As of now, I'm hesitant about posting more links to Lovely*Complex, because really, it doesn't feel good to know that my blog- and ultimately, I- am being used as a mean to get to the end.
Let's just say that I'm feeling a little insignificant as of... eons ago.
I fear that I have no one to share my life with.
Yes, I'm contradicting myself. I'm just strangely wired that way, full of ironies and contradictions.
I don't see myself anywhere in the future where I have someone standing next to me. I don't see why there can be anyone who is actually willing to share his life with me.
I just don't think that there will be anyone who remotely wants to be around a psychotic lameass cynic like yours truly until 'death do us part'.
It is more likely that I'll be alone for the whole of my adult life until my age breaks the sixth decade barrier, where my only companions then will be stray cats that no one but an old, wrinkly and creaking-at-the-joints lady like me will be bored enough to take in.
Of course, that life wouldn't be complete until I kick the provabial bucket halfway through my dream when I'm asleep on a rocking chair.
I guess I'm scared of both alternatives to that topic.
Damn, I'm feeling so ancient right about... now.
I don't know if it's all that angst acting up, or perhaps it's just some lovely hormonal imbalance brought about by the inevitable biological cycle of my period, but I'm just THIS much more irritable today.
People not listening, me needing to repeat myself 41978 times whenever I say something, people not realising that I've been talking, people not realising that I've been asking them something, people not realising that I've been speaking to them, people not realising that I can't go up and present my tutorial answer because I so totally do NOT know what the hell is written there at all...
And to think that I've went though not a lot of problem at all- but still anxiety-ridden enough sort of troublesome- getting enough student matriculation cards to book five hours of the study room (who in their right minds don't bring their student passes to school, huh? HUH?) only to find out that all slots are full for tomorrow already, then going our school library to book a project room instead and just after I logged into the system, right before I could check which rooms are available, hey! Someone suggests just doing our project on the floor!
Right! Silly me, why go through the trouble of making sure that there's a large enough table, air-conditioning indoor space, enclosed area so we could bring our lunch up to eat in secret when we could just
do our project on the floor!
Damn! Why didn't I think of that?
It must be heavenly, rubbing our butts on the dusty-who-knows-what-stepped-on-what-had-been-dragged-across floor!
I totally forgot that we could share the space with the dust mites and have a hell of a picnic with the millions of dust bunnies scampering around us!
I feel so stupid! Wouldn't you feel that too, if you were in my shoes? Or sandals, I was wearing my sandals then.
Project discussion, on the floor! I know I feel stupid already!
As of now, I'll just say what I want. No more repeating, no more getting people to listen if they missed out on the first time. No more grasping for their attention- because really- it's your loss, not mine.
Labels: Phrases