Hundred words are racing through my mind this very moment but one line keeps sticking like a glue - life sucks! Life sucks big time. If there is a case of sudden loss of self realization between adulthood rebellion and mid-life crisis, I just might label myself as that. Writing, as a way of exonerating this uncertainty over life in general, never fails to work its magic and God forbid, what Sean Connery in Finding Forrester applies here – that, “I am not writing for anybody but myself, ” or something to that effect. So, pardon the high-schoolish rants...
I am sick and tired of the rat race so I decided to break away from it all – work, grad school, anything that has to do with using too much brain cells. I was hit by a realization that what I have been doing for the past 23 years of my life is exhausting myself into getting a good education, good work and good life that even a weekend doing nothing depresses me. In short, whereas before, getting a life never bothers me, now it frightens the hell out of me that I haven’t been experiencing that much. Never mind that I am 23 and supposed to be pursuing and exploring the greater heights of my career (if there ever is one) or doing things befitting my age. Duh, who dictates what I’m FIT to do?
Monday, May 24, 2004
Saturday, May 01, 2004
...my mind has a freezer
Somewhere in my mind exists a big freezer where I keep all these feelings wrapped up in foil-frozen - and when I have time or when I choose to have time, take some out, thaw them, dissect, then analyse. A delaying mechanism. I decided since I can’t remember when, that since my memory bank has limited space, I’d only keep those emotions which have been thawed and analysed from my emotional freezer. That way, I could prevent myself from feeling too much consuming emotions towards anything, you know grudges, hatred, etc., etc…
I got sick and tired of society and disillusioned with life so early and I am at that point where nothing could get any worse. There goes a half-filled freezer.Unfortunately, I seem to have more time filling in my emotional freezer than filling my memory bank. More often, the substance of those ‘frozen’ emotions would’ve disappeared, and all I’d be dealing with are the fragments of memories of how I felt about certain things. Of how I remember what I felt, what I should’ve felt and why. I keep on confusing the two and more often, my memory of things and people get mixed up in a clouded space.It is a form of adaptation in an environment that does not permit the musings of baser human emotions. Otherwise, I would end up being the discontented, whinny cry baby that I, at the subconscious level, really am.
Unfortunately, my memories are part and parcel of those emotions and with them tucked away in my freezer, I can not seem to remember things that would’ve comforted me that my years have been worth living. When I was younger and the preoccupation of mind is less utilitarian, I can remember having simultaneous feelings about things that I’d end up confusing myself. And although I can not figure out how I feel about things, I always remember how, when it rains, I feel a deep sadness which now that I am old enough to have figured life (yeah, right), reminds me of the first stirrings of melancholia, of how certain songs produce different sensations that I couldn’t almost grasp, and how deaths of so few among the seemingly hundreds of important people made me cry, of how the thought of Christmas routines send me to unparalleled elation.
Maybe it was because of emotions I ascribed to things, places and people that I have a crystal clear memory of what happened to my life in the previous years, what stirs the heart inspires the mind. And maybe the reason why I can vaguely recall what I did two years ago during my birthday was mainly because my mechanical brain will not digress and thaw those emotions, that my brain has become passive to life, that what happened is much more important than what I felt when it happened.
The reason, I think, why people lose their memories when they age is that their brain have become comfortable in dealing with the routines of everyday life, of going through the same path everyday. The mind reinforces what it thinks everyday and since I ascribe the same ‘contentment’ on the way things work everyday, my mind only remembers those things which are out of the ordinary, about things that evoked certain emotions. But otherwise, my mind is an ordinary empty shell. Sometimes I feel like am suffering from Alzheimer’s although I don’t think I’ve reached the age when I am a potential candidate for that disease. At times I can’t remember names, places, things and happenings and all I feel or I think I feel are sensations. And so at these times, I can hate things and people without remembering the reason why but most of the times, I find it emotionally consuming to feel anything at all, I get tired of feeling anything that I’d start filling in my emotional freezer. Its much better than carrying a load of bottled up emotions in my backpack. But I can only afford so much emotional freezers in my lifetime. Sooner or later, I’d have to clean up the fridge, of which, I know is getting filled-in pretty fast. Until then, I am contented with emptiness, or the blessed absence of pain, whichever is more convenient. I am an inveterate procrastinator, urgency does not exist in the realm of possibilities.
I got sick and tired of society and disillusioned with life so early and I am at that point where nothing could get any worse. There goes a half-filled freezer.Unfortunately, I seem to have more time filling in my emotional freezer than filling my memory bank. More often, the substance of those ‘frozen’ emotions would’ve disappeared, and all I’d be dealing with are the fragments of memories of how I felt about certain things. Of how I remember what I felt, what I should’ve felt and why. I keep on confusing the two and more often, my memory of things and people get mixed up in a clouded space.It is a form of adaptation in an environment that does not permit the musings of baser human emotions. Otherwise, I would end up being the discontented, whinny cry baby that I, at the subconscious level, really am.
Unfortunately, my memories are part and parcel of those emotions and with them tucked away in my freezer, I can not seem to remember things that would’ve comforted me that my years have been worth living. When I was younger and the preoccupation of mind is less utilitarian, I can remember having simultaneous feelings about things that I’d end up confusing myself. And although I can not figure out how I feel about things, I always remember how, when it rains, I feel a deep sadness which now that I am old enough to have figured life (yeah, right), reminds me of the first stirrings of melancholia, of how certain songs produce different sensations that I couldn’t almost grasp, and how deaths of so few among the seemingly hundreds of important people made me cry, of how the thought of Christmas routines send me to unparalleled elation.
Maybe it was because of emotions I ascribed to things, places and people that I have a crystal clear memory of what happened to my life in the previous years, what stirs the heart inspires the mind. And maybe the reason why I can vaguely recall what I did two years ago during my birthday was mainly because my mechanical brain will not digress and thaw those emotions, that my brain has become passive to life, that what happened is much more important than what I felt when it happened.
The reason, I think, why people lose their memories when they age is that their brain have become comfortable in dealing with the routines of everyday life, of going through the same path everyday. The mind reinforces what it thinks everyday and since I ascribe the same ‘contentment’ on the way things work everyday, my mind only remembers those things which are out of the ordinary, about things that evoked certain emotions. But otherwise, my mind is an ordinary empty shell. Sometimes I feel like am suffering from Alzheimer’s although I don’t think I’ve reached the age when I am a potential candidate for that disease. At times I can’t remember names, places, things and happenings and all I feel or I think I feel are sensations. And so at these times, I can hate things and people without remembering the reason why but most of the times, I find it emotionally consuming to feel anything at all, I get tired of feeling anything that I’d start filling in my emotional freezer. Its much better than carrying a load of bottled up emotions in my backpack. But I can only afford so much emotional freezers in my lifetime. Sooner or later, I’d have to clean up the fridge, of which, I know is getting filled-in pretty fast. Until then, I am contented with emptiness, or the blessed absence of pain, whichever is more convenient. I am an inveterate procrastinator, urgency does not exist in the realm of possibilities.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)