i wrote Life's but a walking shadow and all the rest of that crap at
5:36 AM for you.
Macbeth was right.
When you're happy, you think you know what life is: it's about enjoying every day as it goes by. But when you're hit left, right and centre with things you don't want to think about, you wonder. Life is but a series of actions and decisions made on one's part to reduce the amount of pain one feels to the minimum. Never mind whether it's physical pain or mental pain--life is just a continuous effort to get away from it. No one asks for pain. No one enjoys pain. You keep running away from it, keep wanting to escape from it. That's what it is. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow...until one day you can't take it anymore and your heart goes PHUT and that's the end of it for you, ta-ta. And then, just as you are about to leave, you ask: why? What was all that for? If I die, what will be left of me?
What will be left except for a heart of darkness?
And I hate Joseph Conrad for putting the idea into my head. I hate him even more for the fact that it is true.
I lost my wallet today. And I'm not feeling sorry for myself; there is a difference between self-pity and anger. I'm angry because I shouldn't have lost it. Should have used a purse, something I can put into my pocket because you don't lose pockets (well, you do, but I assume one doesn't take off her skirt at random times of the day). I know where it is and I pray I'm right, but if I'm not, it's the end of it for me. It's the first gift he gave to me. I can't lose THAT.
And then if I really do lose it my father will get on my case. What pisses me off is how he can seem so ready to get angry at me when he isn't equally ready to get angry at my sister. I didn't lose a credit card or an EZ Link card or even anything remotely relevant to the basic needs of my life--I just lost money, that's all. I shouldn't have, but it's just money. My sister lost her PHONE. No one flipped. No one yelled. Just, "well, we'll have to look for it tomorrow. Hope we find it". And then, when she doesn't, no one flips. No one yells. She gets a decent phone almost exactly like the one she lost. She paid for some of it, but the point is that she got a decent phone. I was warned that if I lost MY phone I'd get one of those ancient ones with the antenna from 7-11 shops.
Remember the time you joked about how you would love her more if I didn't give you a kiss? And I muttured, you already do?
Well, stupid, obviously it's true.
Can you blame someone for getting hurt in a relationship? You ask your boyfriend if he wants to go out for lunch with you, because it's your anniversary, so to speak, and he's been getting on your case asking you out. And he replies, as if he thinks I'm mad, that he lives on the other side of Singapore and that it's just not worth it traveling back and forth for lunch. After thinking that you're making him happy, that you're doing this because he wants to see you and you him, he turns you down like that. A slap in the face. And don't tell me that doesn't hurt. So I say, alright, fine. I'm sorry I didn't consider the traveling time. I just thought you wanted to see me...so on and so forth.
And the matter goes on and on until eventually he apologizes (and note that I already apologized up there) and, as usual, I go, damn it, he makes it so hard for me to stay mad at him. Which is understandable, because I love him.
But someone else begins to doubt Jennifer because she blamed him for the argument. No, because she got HURT. I apologized for not taking into consideration the time needed for him to travel. But initially I'd said I couldn't make it, homework, dance, whatever...and I made time to have lunch with him. And just like that, with a tone that could freeze an oven, he goes, so you want me to travel all the way across Singapore just to have LUNCH. RIGHT.
If I can't blame him a little for being so cold, you can't be serious.
Life is unfair, so on and so forth. People are unfair.
But as much as I've already come to accept that fact (however grudgingly), it's exactly what makes me wonder. Macbeth was an idiot, but he knew what he was talking about. What's there to our lives except our desperate and notably futile attempt to get away from pain? What's left of us after we die but a vague, floating memory of hurt and ugliness that eventually fades away completely with time, the way a faint, lingering smell disappears on the wind?
"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time... Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing."
Cheers, Macbeth.
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PROFILE
this is where i let rip, so be warned that you might not like everything that pops up here. but i do, so deal with it. (: .
loves
this is so subject to change that i'm not even gonna bother listing them down.
hates
too many, and the list would be extremely volatile, anyway.
wants
a place in Oxford University (good luck, jennifer.)
for someone to know that he has a special place in her heart!
to survive in HCJC next year
not to have so many wants (but who's counting?)