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.

Sunday, July 30, 2006

Dear diary,

I am grateful.

At times I feel lost, vexed and flummoxed by problems that never should have been. I've spent days furiously rummaging through myself, desperately trying to dig up the person that I really am, something that I've seemed to lost an idea of. And I've found it again, perhaps with an even stronger conviction and fuller comprehension of myself than before.

I do not seek solutions from others, because there is none to be seeked. I can seek solace and hide in the comfort of my warmest friends, but ultimately it is I that I have to convince, to master. Yet the importance of friends' support cannot be any more understated for a person who is lacking of wisdom, guidance and courage as I. And I believe I have achieved a better grasp of what true friends mean to me and how I am less willing to judge and jump to conclusions. For that I am grateful.

There is also my blessed life to be grateful for. I do not live in poverty, hunger, destitution or abandonment. I have a complete and caring family. I am not exposed to debilitating injury, terminal illness and disease, and neither are the people I love and care about. My current existence alone is a gift that I should treasure and be thankful for.

I am also grateful that I am not borne of retardation, or lack the capacity to reason and rationalise. I am borne of mild temperament and a natural propensity to be happy, which is something that many others struggle with daily. I am not without flaws, but I am glad that I am aware of many of them, though they are latently difficult to correct.

I am only human. I suffer from all the evils of thought and mind that plagues man. For being able to acknowledge this, I too am grateful, and will strive to disengage from them as much as I can.

Today I take a step back and count my blessings. Perhaps all should.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Dear diary,

The capacity to think lies not only with the brain, but also with the heart. I'm losing the judgment to maintain the fine balance between the two, the mastery of emotions and rational thought.

I'm a lot more complicated than I thought I was, and it never ceases to frighten me how little of myself I understand and am able to control. Or am I controlling myself too much? To always use rationality as a defense against my feelings. Have I forgotten how to feel or to love? And now it's cracking at the seams, this wall of weary rationality in danger of giving way.

I think too much? I think too little? When should I think? When should I let go? Am I thinking right? Am I thinking wrong? If I'm not even sure of these, should I even bother contemplating any of it?

It's amazing how the simple little things I wish for in life can be so difficult to comprehend and obtain.

99% happiness and 1% sorrow. That's me. But when the 1% hits, it hits hard. Statistics never really was my forte.

I need a hug.
Mercury

Whence this transgression?
Opaque, heavy, little
Blob of mercury seeped through
My eyes, taking root like silvery crevices,
Robbing me blind.

It changes and manifests,
A thousand-headed serpent,
Gnashing through my veins.
Hissing its forked tongue,
Insidious rattling in my head.

The final prey found,
It wrapped its scaly hide,
Crushing muscles undulating
Around the pulsating victim,
A choking demise.

What more left,
Limp and senseless flesh save
The cold and voracious
Bite of maggots,
A body forgotten.