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| Rubber StrengthI want to be strong. Not physically with mountains of muscles (although, I wouldn't mind being like that), but some quality of strength which lives in the spirit. While the body can be broken, I wanted something within my heart that could endure whatever hardship befell me.
Perhaps that's why I decided to do what I did. I wanted the toughest and most challenging work. I wanted to be tested to my limit to see who strong I was. If I wasn't strong enough, then I wanted to become stronger. I had this image of graphite, which under extreme pressure would solidify into diamonds-- one the hardest substances on the planet, incredibly brilliant, and well, every girl's best friend.
So I was put through an incredibly hard time. Although I didn't realize it, I stopped believing in myself. Soon after, my heart was broken. After that, I felt like a piece of glass that had shattered against a hard cement floor. I was left with picking up the pieces.
It's really interesting, glass. If you walk by those almost shattered windows you can usually figure out how it broken: whether someone kicked it, or took a bat to it. People, never completely shatter. Instead, when they do break, it's more like that almost shattered glass. If you're observant enough, you can usually figure out how that piece of glass broke. Likewise, as I examine the shattered remains of myself, I realized what had caused me to break: a lack of self-confidence, and wanting others to love me instead of loving myself first.
It's funny, all that time, I wanted to become as strong as diamond. I never wanted to break down and fall to pieces. Then I thought about it: everyone falls down. The truest measure of strength is being able to bounce back after falling down. So when you think about the strength of people, rubber is probably the best substance. It ensures that you pick up the pieces, get on with your life, and enjoy want the world has to offer.
(PS: Kudos to the people who can make the One Piece allusion.)
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| Starting down the path to ContentmentIt bugged me today. Why don't I always strive for my best? Why do I always assume that things will turn out for the worst? Why do I only work hard to fulfill the expectations of other? Why don't I strive to make myself happy?
Ironically, I was trying to coax someone into a more positive mental attitude: one that encouraged self-fulfillment and self-contentment. However, I soon realized that I really wasn't much different and I really only work hard when there's someone armed with a stick who's "encouraging" to work. (I mean stick in a metaphorical sense, as in the stick vs. the carrot. Although I admit someone with a stick would definitely be cause for me to get off my lazy bum.)
So I wondered why this was the case and I want to change. After all, I hate being a hypocrite by handing out advice which I never follow. I soon realized that the root of problem is that I really don't believe that I should be happy. Admittedly, it sounds odd, especially in a world where we're encouraged to pursue happiness. However, the truth is I don't actually believe I deserve that happiness.
Well, I guess it's time to walk down the road towards contentment. I've got to start thinking that I deserve happiness. After all, who doesn't deserve it? You're pretty much as happy as you want to be.
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| Mirror into the PastSometimes I look at myself and wonder who I've become. Sometimes, I like the new me; sometimes I wonder what happened to the guy I was four years ago. I wonder where all the optimism and energy went. Maybe I'm just getting older, and as we age we learn to become more "realistic". Or maybe somewhere within the last four years, I lost a part of me and I can't seem to quite get it back.
If I could look back through some mirror-like contraption, a device that would span four years. If I could look at myself and have him staring back at me, what would happen? My present self would probably think that back then I was too brash, arrogant and foolish, and he'd probably look at me and thing that I'm too pessimistic, quiet and reserved. I'd ask him, how could he always be so optimistic; and he'd wonder how I became so depressed. I'd say I was more mature and less self-centered, but he'd retort that he was confident and perseverant.
If I could chose, who would I be? I really don't know.
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| Irrational FearI really hate this feeling. I can't quite justify it, but I'm afraid. Ask me what I'm afraid. Go on.
Well, the thing is I really know what I'm afraid of, I'm just afraid. I really can't pinpoint what it is and that really bothers me. Nothing special about tomorrow. Nothing frightening happened today. So I'm stuck. I'm stuck with an irrational fear.
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| Thank You.Well, it's been a while since I started Xanga-ing and upon reflection, I'm really glad that I stumbled upon this web site a year and a bit ago. I've met all sorts of amazing, thoughtful and caring people. People who have meant a lot to me.
So I wanted to say thank you to every one. Thanks for reading my entries and posting insightful comments. Thanks for responding to my comments. Thanks for helping a lost, confused and depressed person find his way. These flimsy words can barely do justice to the appreciation that sprouts from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for everything.
Peace.
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