Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Confusing Week

Well, Shakespearean as in Hamlet's dilemma I supposed. Apologise if it all sounds rather melodramatic. It's a spur of the moment thing, an instant extraction from demented mind.

Do you realise that advices we receive, from Aunt Agony to inspirational quotes, sometimes end up contradicting each other. Like when dealing with an unhappy marriage; either get the hell out, or try to work it out in order to keep the sanctity of marriage, sacredness of vows? Afraid of society's frowns? Staying together for the sake of the children? Is that really the best solution? It works for some, but another portion may be growing up, resenting this tie that binds you to a person you hate. Making marriage into Engagement Ring -> Wedding Ring -> Suffering? Hahaha.

Or for what I'm dealing here, they always say what is a life without dreams! Without dreams, life is but a stone, unable to change the situation. No, no, it isn't me. But am just left alone, brooding with the idea of forcefully knocking the nails of reality into this certain person's head. Trampling on someone's dreams. I do not particularly adore to do such a thing, if you want to know, for I too am a dreamer. But when all they have are visions and unrealistic expectations, and everything around them crumbles except this so-called great dreams. It kills not only this person, but us, watching as well. What is there for a girl to do? I mean, I COULD go huddle into some comfy hole and eat the remaining white chocolate macadamia nut cake in the fridge (argh, noooo, fat fat...). But no, I have a wake-up call to complete. Sigh. Why can't I be blissfully ignorant?

It's just weird. This person (erm, let's just call 'this person' as 'C' shall we?), along with me, have learnt the hard way of being blinded by dreams, visions. Well, apparently only one of us learnt and that's me btw. Anyway, we had watched another drag down those who care about him/her/it into the depths of failure. Helplessly clinging onto whatever support in sight. We held out our arms, though reluctantly, to help this stubborn person get up again. Reluctantly because basically he's done so many things that it's so hard for us to forgive, even before the fall. Until now, even though his person has turned much better, this hatred comes back at times, a dagger surprising everyone.

But I'm digging into the wrong subject yet again. So C and I were aware of this danger to this. C condemned this person, putting a very heavy blame upon as well. I was amazed by the maturity C had, by the words. Yet now, I'm seeing C walking the very same path of the person he condemned. Even the footprints almost match. Along with a hard head to match. *siren wails* WARNING WARNING! But C has already stepped into that realm, and our cowboy ropes can't reach him. (my god, pretending C is a bull or something).

On the subject of bulls, so how now brown cow? How can I tell that what I see are shades of dark murky green and grey when all C sees is an array of rainbows, lollipops and gold? Perhaps I should give C my eyes, but I think C thinks of me as all books and no sense of 'vision'.

But then there's also the little poke that this dream might work. But while waiting, we're dying. Basically, dreams is like business. Some are good at executing the job while others lack the needed ability. Some have Lady Luck smiling on them as frequent as the sun shines in the Sahara and as frequent as under the canopy of trees in the Amazon. Or maybe in an underground tunnel.


It's been a confusing week for me. Just the other day, it's some communication problem. I meant one thing and he assumes another. I wasn't implementing that I was looking down upon him, it's only he feels inferior. He's just angry with everyone and the world, because maybe, it didn't turn out the way he wanted it to be. And I can't escape either because we were in a moving vehicle on the highway and I ain't no stuntgirl. It's so scary talking to a person like that, because it's like playing the Russian Roulette.

Aimed at someone's head, but the thing is, whose?

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