This Is Finally Happening.

This is supposedly typical of pre-june me. Skipping school, staying at home and playing dota. Unfortunately, it's after june and here I am. It appears old habits do die hard. I realized that (other than the 2 previous posts) my recent posts all seem rather contrived. Like it's someone else on the keyboard. I don't know why, maybe it was me trying to appear like someone I'm not. And so I've decided, never again. If I'm going to blog, I'm gonna do it on my own terms. I'll disregard whoever is reading it. While aware that there might be someone out there reading it i.e no deepest darkest secrets and the like, I shall in no way attempt to address that someone. I will blog what I want, how I want it. If someone wishes to pass judgement on me, so be it. And I realize that a tagboard is somewhat at odds with that, so I'm done with it.

Yesterday was an odd day. I was all out of sorts, right from the get go. It seemed like I slept with my head in the clouds, thunderclouds. I woke up feeling pissed off, which is sort of retarded. I believe I was actually frowning upon waking up. That frown was sustained all the way till I reached school. I don't know what it takes for someone to frown for an hour.

So yeah, an unusual start to an unusual day. My behaviour was odd, like someone was assuming my skin. Ate away my memories, my experiences, and wearing my skin for a lark. (Troll Bridge, Neil Gaiman) And well I couldn't listen in class, I kept thinking that studying is so pointless, which it is, but that's a pointless thought itself. Anyway, yesterday I wasn't really myself. Being very uncharacteristic.

Yesterday I was entertaining thoughts on how and why I'm single. The why. My textbook, smooth answer to people who ask is, I don't want to be distracted. But honestly, that's flimsy. It's not like I'm studying in my spare time. Or doing anything worthwhile. Being single is not a predicament, it's a choice. One that I made while I was oh so mature at sec 1. My reasons then was studying. (Not that I did, not at all) But it's a choice I've stuck with since then. There have been times I have doubted that choice. There will be more. And the reason I give is the same, with the minor problem that it's not true anymore. It's evasion. Sometimes now, I think it's fear. Plain, ignoble cowardice. Fear of confronting my own feelings, perhaps. Fear of rejection, perhaps. The (maybe) baseless fear of being wrong, and humiliated. Fear of being shamed. That's just lowly. The inability to confront your fears. To face up to them and say, no, I will not live in the shadow of my fears.

Somewhere along the way, I thought myself so very noble. That I would by no means exploit the vulnerabilities of someone who was feeling down and out. That I wouldn't take advantage of the fact that she was looking for someone to lean on. I was so chivalrous. I was no worm, sidling up to her side, worming my way into her affection. But maybe it was just my fear throwing up excuses. Glib excuses my brain would accept.

Somewhere along the way I felt superior. That maybe hey, I'm a better man than you because I refuse to succumb to temptation. That you know, I am stronger willed. Where's the will in running away? But I felt oh so superior. I did not give in to the innate desire for intimacy. Stupid, stupid. I console myself, that no, I'm waiting for the One. Only the One will suffice. Of course, ideally that would be the case. But that's pretty naive, and even to my ears not a convincing enough reason.

Anyway that's about all I've got to say. To admit to myself that I don't dare. To rue what could have been. To acknowledge that my actions, they're based on fear not indifference.

Apparently when your muscles are sore, it's cause of micro tears or something. Caused by a lack of use. I am feeling terribly lousy, despite only a bit of touch rugby yesterday. But I'll be making my way down to training in a while. My legs are like cement laden, been ages since the last time they were worked. But I hope I'll finally be able to tackle someone again. Or burn them. It's been a while.

I have been quite snippy recently. Sudden spikes of annoyance and irritation, happening alot lately. Actually, maybe I've always been like that, just that it's only now that I realize it. Alot of it is directed at my dad. I really don't know why. There's just something in the way he says things that gets my hackles up. Like his version of caring is one that rubs me up the wrong way. It doesn't make for a pretty sight. Objectively, he's not doing anything wrong. I know I'm an ass, it's just that I feel so irritated I'm convinced he's in the wrong. Every single time. I don't know how that affects him. That his son is irked by his every other sentence. It would suck to be in his shoes. But I just can't seem to help it. Telling, huh. Another incident was when I scolded my brother within 5 minutes of entering Ocean Park, while we were in HK. While I still feel it was justified, I could have potentially ruined what was mean to be a great time together. I don't know why I snapped like that. It's not right. I can't be on the verge of bad temper everytime.

Oh yeah I watched the eclipse on channel 8 just now. It's 100% covered over in china, from what I could glean. Supposedly it's only a 10% difference in brightness over here in sunny singapore. My decision to pon school was so timely, coinciding with such a significant event.

It's high time I left home. There's people to injure and people to face off, hey-hey.

On a side-note, I've decided that a blog is a sanctum for one's thoughts. Like it was originally supposed to be, a diary. You put down your thoughts in the knowledge that someone might chance upon it, and if someone asks to read that diary, you would not begrudge him it. If someone sees your bag and decides to read through your diary, you wouldn't mind. That's what a blog is, to me. And of course if you don't like what you read, that's only too bad. You read a book of the shelf and if you don't like it, that's no fault of the author now, is it?

Well time to go. ta-ta.