stock taking.
the irony about the lack of any proper entries is that i haven't been leading a busy, fulfilling and enriching life. on the contrary, my life's been plain and unremarkable for the most part. so what's there to blog about, when there's really nothing to blog about?
the past month, apart from appearing at some social events and gatherings (some of them obligations more than anything), i've done absolutely nothing note-worthy. i haven't been working, i've been lazing around at home.i hardly meet people, and i've not picked up the activities that i wanted to.
but how can i, really (and i know this is going to ruffle some feathers, because some people would probably have preconceived notions in their mind at this point, and would hate that they could be wrong just because i'm explaining a situation)? i've come to this sad conclusion that i've never really belonged anywhere. people have churches, or some kind of interest group. but i don't, and it hurts thinking sometimes, that nobody really cares about me as much as i'd like them to. although this is partly my fault for refusing to fully suscribe and conform to the idiocies of any organised group.
is it so much to ask for, really, to belong somewhere? i'm beginning to feel that i'm less introverted than i probably gave myself credit for, just because it seemed cool to be brooding - hence the "I" results on MBTI-styled quizzes. (of course the irony here is that metacognition is the self-styled prerogative of the introverted). i need social interaction more than i ever realised. i'm not the hermit i always thought i was, but it's funny because that's exactly what i've become because there's nowhere to go to. and it's kinda late to retrace the steps and try to fit in somewhere. because i never have anyway. i guess i need the security that a group can provide, as well as the semblance of sanity that comes with proper human interaction. i feel the ringing poignancy of the phrase "no man is an island" more so than ever.
it's not just that. the things that used to define me - my supposed writing prowess, my voracious appetite for reading and literature - are waning and i'm losing grip of all that. i find it harder these days to construct a proper essay without meandering into digressions that reflect my rampant streams of consciousness. the thoughts are still all there, thankfully, but the methods of expression have dulled tremendously. and this is a problem because that was who i was - if i were an athlete, for example, it wouldn't really matter anyway.
but i'm not, and it's kinda hard to live without existing when there's no definition of self to begin with. the question who am i? rings like an echo back towards the origin, with no answer in sight. who are you? it says.
i have realised the error of my ways, though. but breaking out of the vicious cycle is easier said than done. i'm trying though. but perhaps i might not really need to worry. the upcoming months should be ferocious. it sure will be interesting plunging headfirst into a community, long-term, after not being in one for some time. add to that the fact that i'm taking a course that requires heavy-duty reading, writing, and thinking, and you've got an amalgamation of something incredible. it frightens me, because i know there can only be 2 ways this will turn out.
i will either find myself even better than before i lost myself, or crash and burn horrendously.
oh and i really think people should learn to stop throwing around words like angst and emo just because they think they really know what it is. stop abusing those terms.