Friday, April 21, 2006

muse on the IGs

Yesterday I cried for a reason I haven’t had to cry for in almost eight years. Funny how easy it is even after all this time. You slip right back into the groove. Waiting, wondering, watching, worrying. Spending free time moaning about your loneliness and how no one understands you. Worrying if friendly overtures from new acquaintances are all fake. Wondering if people you meet already have a mental image of you.
On the plus side, my instincts are spot on, as always. It is something to celebrate, indeed – my being able to read another person’s mood as soon as they get two words out of their mouth (or onto the keyboard) or sometimes even before that. I wonder why they don’t ever admit to it. At least, very few ever do. Is it disconcerting to be read that easily? Who knows. Thanks for the support, Caro-mio. You’re the only one who acknowledges my gift.
And, as in the case of most gifts, it’s more of a curse. Who wants to get the feeling that the person they’re talking to can’t stand to be around them, despises them, is disappointed in them, annoyed with them, angry at them, crazy in love with them? Not me, I can tell you that.
(And don’t think the last is something pleasant. Feeling that someone you have no romantic feeling towards cherishes fonder feelings for you is a very onerous burden)

I find it providential that the day after I (somewhat) address the potential of the average random person to screw with your life and brain, voila! extra-special delivery for me.
I always find it so hard to call someone on their faults as a person, probably because I’m so flawed myself. I have no issues correcting someone’s grammar or spelling or syntax. Language does not reflect your worth as a person, whatever people will lead you to believe. Willingness to change, to correct yourself, to stand up for your beliefs – that determines your worth.

Perspective.
Things are back in perspective.
Between the time I began to type this out and the actual posting of this, things have done a complete about-face. Thanks for all the comments :) guys, and for the letters...

In other news: I missed the college bus this morning (DESIGN REVIEW!!!) Went by BTS, got my dose of "charming camaraderie of the average man" and went from feeling abysmally sorry for myself to the more annoying (but definitely easier on the nerves) state of analysing the universe.
Was saved, therefore, from suffering a fate worse than death - ignominy.
Almost wrote a scathingly sarcastic letter to someone. Yes, it happens.
impulsive = stupid = me
However, my epiphany on the bus, compounded with the depression of learning that my design was not very well thought-out (damn. more work?? *sigh*) managed to drive the sarcasm right out of me. Which is a good thing. Sarcasm is the wrong way to resolve conflicts. It just ends up alienating and chafing, and my particular brand of sarcasm is mighty scathing, too.

Ha ah ha [for those who think it is a mistake, it is not]
more news! Had a li'l bit of ¡adventure! on Wednesday (wednesday? no, thursday) on my way home. Meant to meet up with someone at Bowring Hospital, and landed up at Bowring Institute instead (don't ask). *sigh* again.
On a side note, all my meetings with this guy seem characterized by extremely poor choices in drinking material... NTS: no more chikku juice, ever.
f.y.i. sapota/sapodilla. my dic says it's an american fruit!!!

Also, turns out I topped my class in the last semester examinations. Damnation.
I’m not ready to be a class topper. I barely manage being the class representative, which is a job and a half on its own.
Q. If I'd got this news today instead of last morning, would it have made a difference in my mood? Let us hope not.
i want to post this before midnight.

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