cleansing...

I didn't post anything new for TWO WHOLE DAYS!!! Wow...I don't know why, I just ran out of things to say. Sure, I could've written stuff here, but what's the point in doing that if I were to do it just to make sure I have a post for each day that passes by? Maybe I was drained. I was inclined to discover than nothing happening in my life right now is even remotely interesting to other people.

My ideas come from my interaction with other people. I only capture different movements in my life. So...what happens when things start to stagnate? That is where I am right now. My life is sooo dull, I've resorted to writing about how dull it is. It's like a catharsis of this stagnation that's threatening to strip me of everything that makes me interesting, unique. I'm giving life to my troubles, my boredom. Blindly hoping that by doing so, it makes it possible to fight my problems. Giving them form and an admittedly stupid sense of tangibility should empower me to deal with them right?

I am running out of ideas (repeating it doesn't make it less significant, so it seems...) and I am falling prey to my mistakes. YES, it was a mistake resigning last December. YES, it was a mistake to rely on my brother's success in Singapore too much. YES, it was and still is a mistake to rationalize all my problems and blaming them all on dad. YES, it was a mistake to put aside my opinions and dumbly follow my mom and brother when I applied for my course. YES, it was a mistake to place my future in my brothers hands and an EVEN BIGGER MISTAKE following in his foot steps. Finally, YES, it was a mistake thinking that I could be successful even though I gave up most of my wants and gave way to my mom, dad, and brother's every whim.

Presenting my stupidity in a list like this does help. People might say it is foolish of me to dwell on past errors, but I would say that it is a lot more foolish of me to admit that (as it is made apparent by my list) I haven't been able to learn from any of my past mistakes. I believe I have sacrificed too much of myself. I have lost the real "ME" in the process of being a good son and brother.

I have done so well in hiding the truth, MY TRUTH, that even I am not sure what I WANTED FROM THE START. It's too far in the past. All I can do is shed tears while I am typing this down. A memoir of my mistakes in life. Easier remembered than my achievements.

REALITY HAS BECOME, AT LEAST FOR ME, A MATTER OF EARNING MONEY AND MAKING SURE THAT ALTHOUGH I WOULD UNDOUBTEDLY BE MISERABLE MY ENTIRE LIFE, AT LEAST I WOULD BE "COMFORTABLY" MISERABLE. Any success that I will garner from here on out will mean nothing to me. I exist to make my parents happy, to make my brother proud, and to make sure my sister always has a smile on her face. I have always lived my life for others, and it is to late to start living it for myself.

Sure, I'm just twenty-two, but what choice do I have? After doing one thing for so long, is there any chance of successfully doing anything else? After giving so much, is there enough of me left? I honestly doubt this...