chat with me, I'm in mighty need of a companion to chat with.
It is eventual and inevitable and there are many that one has to face throughout one's life. Some aren't that big of a deal and one or two bad judgement calls in these wouldn't do one that much harm. However, there are also those that determine one's future and the choices that are laid before him or her are often mutually exclusive - choosing one path denies the others, such is the brutality of life.
I shall shed off some of the stereotypes that I subconsciously apply to myself. It bugs me. I find it to be very constrictive and stifling. I'm still young even though my age starts with the digit 2. I want to have choices to what I wanna be. I want to do something that is beyond my ordinary routine or out of the usual me (of course, within my own boundary of morality). Liberalising myself from self-stereotyping should do me good (I hope). I wonder why did I even do it in the first place? Was it the ever-so-cliche peer pressure or is it the similarly overused reason of mass media? However, in this case, it doesn't matter what compelled me to act with such naivete since I'm the one who did it in the end.
On another note, my brain is so cluttered now. Pre-exam period I guess. Seriously, it's so noisy. Good thing I have this blog to ramble but somehow, I think it kinda backfire because last night, I only managed to get 3 hours of sleep before waking up in panic. Plus, it was soooo hard for me to sleep. I guess my brain has the ability to induce its own caffeine which works infinitely better than Nescafe. Back to what I'm suppose to be doing - study.
Shhh, I'm suppose to be studying but then again, the proportion of my time that I took to tell that I am, suppose to or want to study is definitely much larger than the proportion of my time that I took to actually study. Why am I here? I'm not really sure. After all, most of my posts have more words than purpose. Why? It is just the nature of who I am. A bum who supposedly try to blog but desperately in need of matter. Does it matter? Heck no, I'm the owner/writer/creator of this blog so I can do whatever I want to. Besides, the fact that you are actually reading this post, despite knowing by now, that it does not have any purpose, direction, points or matter proves that you are reading this post purely because I wrote it. After all, I'm just a wad of wet tissue on the ceiling that some find interesting. This post's seemingly non-important existence is purely to entertain my loyal reader(s) whom has/have nothing better to do. In fact, I would say the usage of the word 'entertain' in the previous sentence is exceedingly pretentious and exaggerated in terms of expressing the purpose of this post. Honestly, I would say the word 'occupy your head with more nonsense' is spot on. However, if you really are here for the aforementioned reason, I severely question your ability to fill that squishy blob of pink matter that you call brain with information that has no base, logic nor point. Is it not your onus to do just that on your own without resorting to come here? Does it not make you wonder what you have reduced yourself to just by reading this post? Have you recently start questioning the authenticity of your sanity because if you haven't, I'm already doing it for you?
Did you really read all of that?
I've been getting quite a few responses about the post before this. Let me make myself clear, being an introvert does not equate to being emo and by no means a reason to raise alarming concern. I do appreciate that you approached me about that post but really, I'm fine. Speaking of introvert, I recently a post concerning myths surrounding introverts in general and I find most of it to be rather applicable to me. Now, allow me to point out the things that the post talks about that I can say the same thing about myself:
Introverts don't like to talk
I feel my social life is imploding. My introvert self is resurfacing again.
The story below is meant for kids.
There was once a story about a boy who lived in family that valued cleanliness and spruceness above other things in their life. The family was so zealous about being clean that they purchase ridiculous amount of bar soap on a weekly basis. They were so worried of being dirty that they wash clothes so often that the boy's white shirt shines. The parents were so ardent in being tidy, the mother ironed and starched his boy's clothings so vigorously, that the boy's shirts were solid and never once people saw a wrinkle. The father was so enthusiastic about being clean that he was nicknamed "General White". Like all things in life (this is getting cliche), doing something excessively is never good. Predictably, the boy was ostracized by his friends. The boy's clothes were so clean and sparkling, they hurt people's eyes. He was sad, he was unhappy.
One day, the parents went off for a trip in another state and left the boy alone. The parents naturally supplied him with every type of products for hygienic and cleanliness purpose imaginable - mountainous bars of soap, stocks of cleaning powder that would last him for years, enough starch to feed the whole neighbourhood and enough toothpaste to turn any elephant white. When his parents left, he felt an overwhelming feeling of liberation. For once, he felt the gargantuous responsibility to keep himself constantly clean taken off from his shoulders.
For a whole week, he did not bathe, he did not wash his clothes nor did he brush his teeth. He played in the mud and slept with enough dirt behind his ears to plant a flower. When his parents returned, they were shocked to see the condition of their only son..
I can't remember the story from then on but it ended with the boy growing fruits from his body becuase he was so dirty. The parents learnt to accept him in the end. As to whether it ended the way I said it, I'm not sure.. but that's not the point as to why I'm writing this story.
I find this story fascinating, not because of the story but because of what the children might learn from it. I thought about it for a while and concluded that there are 3 possibilities of what might the children get from this story:
1: Being who you are is important regardless of who your parents are and their idiosyncrasies. This value seems very westernize, if you ask me, but what the heck.
2. Being dirty is ok as long as you can grow fruits from your armpits and behind your ears.
3. I... can't remember.
Oh well, guess that's all for now.