Perhaps it's time I rediscover what my blog is for.
"Feeling confused" is goes some way in answering the kind of mental and physical stupor I have sunk into in this current period of time, so I suppose I shall go ahead and thresh everything out by typing.
I have always believed in giving people chances, the benefit of the doubt.
I have always believed that there are some fundemental rules, there are some basic tenants of being a thinking rational human being.
Like a First Proposition who has sat down and realised that the debate is starting to teeter, one wonders what went wrong. Sort of like what has happened in the Octos, when you realise that the rules you set down weren't clear enough / were clear enough but were misinterpreted or misheard. It's like creating a world to realise that you've accidentally set the universal constant slightly off.
So far I've been teetering between two real emotions this past month: an unhealthy and sometime stifling dedication to work and an equally unhealthy and less-than-sometime stifling desire to unleash varying flavours of fire and brimstone on opponents' arguments.
---
Okay, as anyone who has been reading this for any period of time know, I don't usually do this, but I need to get this off my chest.
First off, let me apologise to my friends who have tried to contact me / have posted stuff on Facebook expecting a more motivated response from me.
So far I've also realised that my ability to socialise has dropped to an all-time low. Each successive faux pax sinks me deeper into pseudodepression (I recognise it as pseudo, at least - I do not claim to be an emo kid) and probably get me into deeper trouble if it isn't reined in.
I am starting to lose my grip on how to properly treat my parents, my peers, my attached peers and their boy/girlfriends. I am starting to lose patience with telemarketers and blind buskers on the streets. I have increasingly violent daydreams of shouting down others and the occasional physical nature of my assaults. I start to mouth words while standing in the MRT. I plan vicious tirades in my head against Channel 8 drama characters.
All this time I have been imagining myself governing myself through a certain set of personal ideals. In that sense I feel that I was very predicatble. In the past, deviations from those ideals were put down to lack of self-control. Increasingly I am losing my grip on what some of these ideals are, watching my reactions fall further in the cesspool of random luck and see-mood, and my vocabulary into increasingly absurd extensions of ideas reflected in hyphenated words.
I've watched my English fall into ruin to the point where I struggled to make a single point clearly, and watched it miraculously make a good comeback (not good enough) in time for Hammers. I've felt so tired I've actually fallen asleep mid-sentence or while doing physical tasks.
But if I were to give a single example of a mental and physiological decline I would suppose this current period of time would be it.
I suppose it's only a temporary decline and not an all out shutdown across the grid. Right now I'm shoring up my mental barriers for that defense against the screw-this-whole-thing argument, and waiting for - my - inevitable recovery and rise back to form.
I chronicle this because I want to see how much I've changed after a few more months have passed. Also it's something to get off my chest, on a part of the Internet I'm sure not many actually see.
Also if you call me an emo kid I will destroy you.
TL;DR: Till then, I hope anyone whom I've offended over the past couple weeks can understand. I'm not in the best frame of mind now. Right now as I type this I have this sinking feeling that something up there probably will offend someone. Nevertheless, I shall post it anyway and hope - through the fog in my brain - that someone will read this and understand no offense was meant.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Clarity
Another day, another faux pax.
And causing the team to lose another high-stakes debate.
Way to go, benjy.
And causing the team to lose another high-stakes debate.
Way to go, benjy.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Poker
Excited for Hammers.
What will tomorrow bring?
---
Another MRT ride, another quiet fascination with life around me.
Picked up Wittgenstein's Poker from the library; seemed like an interesting read. Turned out a little dry, but the premise was interesting nonetheless: Wittgenstein threathening(?) Popper with a poker during a guest lecture with Russell trying to intervene.
Sounds like a piece of fanfiction with philosophers, but it's an interesting note that this (in some form) actually happened. Quite a jump, honestly, to realise - not to know, logically, academically, i- your-head somewhere - that the people we quote are more than just the soundbyte philosophical arguments we credit them for.
1. e4 c6
2. Nf3
Honest to goodness, there I was, minding my own business like a straight honourable gentleman when suddenly, this crazy idiot on horseback takes a mind to galloping straight past me as if I didn't exist. He just rushed out back from somewhere; I swear, it seems like he doesn't even look where he's going at times. Just a "whoops! Sorry!" and away he goes, lost somewhere in the mist ahead. I don't care if he looks absolutely dashing on a horse, he's going to get himself killed like that. But yeah, that's the truth and the whole truth of it, gov'nor, like it or not, and that's how your cat got run over by a horse.
What will tomorrow bring?
---
Another MRT ride, another quiet fascination with life around me.
Picked up Wittgenstein's Poker from the library; seemed like an interesting read. Turned out a little dry, but the premise was interesting nonetheless: Wittgenstein threathening(?) Popper with a poker during a guest lecture with Russell trying to intervene.
Sounds like a piece of fanfiction with philosophers, but it's an interesting note that this (in some form) actually happened. Quite a jump, honestly, to realise - not to know, logically, academically, i- your-head somewhere - that the people we quote are more than just the soundbyte philosophical arguments we credit them for.
1. e4 c6
2. Nf3
Honest to goodness, there I was, minding my own business like a straight honourable gentleman when suddenly, this crazy idiot on horseback takes a mind to galloping straight past me as if I didn't exist. He just rushed out back from somewhere; I swear, it seems like he doesn't even look where he's going at times. Just a "whoops! Sorry!" and away he goes, lost somewhere in the mist ahead. I don't care if he looks absolutely dashing on a horse, he's going to get himself killed like that. But yeah, that's the truth and the whole truth of it, gov'nor, like it or not, and that's how your cat got run over by a horse.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Revamp
Well.
Blogger seems to have revamped their everything since I've last checked; I admit that I find it rather irritating to not have the old controls. Sure, maybe it's sleeker and more interesting, but I don't quite like having to hunt all over the place for the "edit whole blog in HTML format" (I still haven't found it). As a consequence this blog is hereby condemned to live with the scrappy HTML formatting that I did for it years ago until such a time where I decide to change the template.
---
If there's one thing I've learnt though the past couple of months, it's to never take anything for granted. Everyday I am reminded anew of the surprising strength that belies some people.
---
As of late, I've recently become more irritable, to the point where it's visible even to me. ...I suppose it's due to the stress; perhaps I should start to be more organised.
It's probably been a subconscious tendency for quite a while, but now I'm consciously channeling most of my held-back anger or impatience into a reserve of fire to use when debating (if and when the situation calls for it/I feel like it).
I've always loved doing Thirds because by then in most debates I'm sufficiently fired up to declare every single one on the opposing team a misguided idiot. On a logical level, I do agree it was for the better for the team and myself that I was eventually rotated out of that. Even now, when I do Thirds, I have to constantly remind myself, to keep myself on a leash.
On a lower, baser level, though, I love Thirds simply because of the sheer destructive potential. To me it's a strange "bloodlust" of sorts: to dismember an opposing argument beyond the point of saving. Even these civilised words don't seem to do what I mean justice: I'm talking about the likes of the legendary Seventeen-Tiered Rebuttal, razing an argument down to the ground from multiple perspectives; the kind of kick you might just get if your neighbour came up to you and self-righteously declared some stupid statement, the kind of argument that is just begging to be dismantled; the sheer malicious Schadenfreude, to destroy.
...honestly, I'm torn between behaving properly this Hammers or just letting myself go.
---
Have started a proper (hopefully) game of chess by tag with Darion, I intend to see it to completion. At a rate of a move or two a week maybe I'll even clear my army stint before it's all over.
...nah, who am I kidding?
Just so to make me update more constantly and also to try to regain some command of English, I shall chronicle this exciting match as it unfolds every week.
1. e4
The starting horn blares, and I trudge across the field. I keep my head down and walk, listening to the trudging of my unwilling feet across mud and sand and who-cares-what-else in this forsaken land. Misery loves company, though, and at the very least I have plenty of both. At the very least, I have those whom I can count upon to back me up, to fall back upon, to -
Silence.
I turn aroud, only to see no one else.
I stand alone in the middle of a blistering nowhere, watching dark clouds slowly swirl together overhead.
Blogger seems to have revamped their everything since I've last checked; I admit that I find it rather irritating to not have the old controls. Sure, maybe it's sleeker and more interesting, but I don't quite like having to hunt all over the place for the "edit whole blog in HTML format" (I still haven't found it). As a consequence this blog is hereby condemned to live with the scrappy HTML formatting that I did for it years ago until such a time where I decide to change the template.
---
If there's one thing I've learnt though the past couple of months, it's to never take anything for granted. Everyday I am reminded anew of the surprising strength that belies some people.
---
As of late, I've recently become more irritable, to the point where it's visible even to me. ...I suppose it's due to the stress; perhaps I should start to be more organised.
It's probably been a subconscious tendency for quite a while, but now I'm consciously channeling most of my held-back anger or impatience into a reserve of fire to use when debating (if and when the situation calls for it/I feel like it).
I've always loved doing Thirds because by then in most debates I'm sufficiently fired up to declare every single one on the opposing team a misguided idiot. On a logical level, I do agree it was for the better for the team and myself that I was eventually rotated out of that. Even now, when I do Thirds, I have to constantly remind myself, to keep myself on a leash.
On a lower, baser level, though, I love Thirds simply because of the sheer destructive potential. To me it's a strange "bloodlust" of sorts: to dismember an opposing argument beyond the point of saving. Even these civilised words don't seem to do what I mean justice: I'm talking about the likes of the legendary Seventeen-Tiered Rebuttal, razing an argument down to the ground from multiple perspectives; the kind of kick you might just get if your neighbour came up to you and self-righteously declared some stupid statement, the kind of argument that is just begging to be dismantled; the sheer malicious Schadenfreude, to destroy.
...honestly, I'm torn between behaving properly this Hammers or just letting myself go.
---
Have started a proper (hopefully) game of chess by tag with Darion, I intend to see it to completion. At a rate of a move or two a week maybe I'll even clear my army stint before it's all over.
...nah, who am I kidding?
Just so to make me update more constantly and also to try to regain some command of English, I shall chronicle this exciting match as it unfolds every week.
1. e4
The starting horn blares, and I trudge across the field. I keep my head down and walk, listening to the trudging of my unwilling feet across mud and sand and who-cares-what-else in this forsaken land. Misery loves company, though, and at the very least I have plenty of both. At the very least, I have those whom I can count upon to back me up, to fall back upon, to -
Silence.
I turn aroud, only to see no one else.
I stand alone in the middle of a blistering nowhere, watching dark clouds slowly swirl together overhead.
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