Ramblings of a Convicted Half-wit

An online journal that (b)logs the incessant insignificants that pass through sq's gray matter every day. Pick up the pieces and make out the puzzle.

Monday, August 15, 2005

Dear diary,

This is the third time this month that I'm attempting to blog. I scrapped the two previous posts because I didn't know what I was writing about. It was just a flurry of words and disjointed sentences. Sometimes I really wonder what my mind is about. It's like I have this permanent blank in my head and the only times when it is occupied by thoughts, memories and logic is when I'm having a good day. Shouldn't it be the other way round? I think I'm too indulgent/temperamental/whimsical for my own good.

Picked up this nifty book recently(free of course, i borrowed it from a library): Time Management for the Creative Person. Yes, it was egoistic of me to consider myself a creative individual. Hey it wasn't purely narcissism on my part. The book described all my flaws perfectly and managed to convince me that they are not unbecomings, but rather "assets" of a creative, right-brain wired person. Which is me. Man he's slick. This is the kind of people you need in marketing. And he even makes sense.

Three friends are leaving me soon. One to the States and two others to UK. I've been too comfortable having them around, and now it's difficult to fathom them leaving our sunny shores for greater pursuits. I am happy for them, but that in no way makes it easier for me, or anyone else from the clique for that matter. How different would they be in four years? Is it just four years? How different would WE be? Would they settle down abroad permanently? Would the feelings we shared fade into a distant rumination, an afterthought of yesteryear? So many unknowns. It's depressing, really. Sometimes I wonder if my nonchalance for the past few months was really the right approach. The deep sense of self-denial together with fiercely suppressed feelings all seem to falter at the dawn of realisation. You guys are great, the best, and I'll always love you. Yucks, that sounds gay but I don't care. I might not have a chance to say that in future. Hand me a Kleenex please.

My mind's in a swirl recently. A vortex to be exact. Drawing me helplessly to the one conclusion. Can I be sure? Can one ever? Past events has taught me not to be hasty, not to be trusting, not even of myself. Yet I'm inexorably smitten. Do I still have the propensity, gut and faith? For once let me procrastinate on this one.