Losing Boundaries

Make it straight and simple -

I need to stop working on the weekends. Or more accurately,
I need to stop working myself to work on the weekends.

Not so much on the abnormalities compared to the majority - but the idea of the desire to work during my spare time both intrigues, and scares me.

What am I even thinking, or for that matter, trying to achieve?

Either way today was a prime example of the aftermath of this drug - the days are blurred.
A weekday feels like a weekend, and I have the sense of relaxation even on a weekday. 
Who knows, maybe that's one of the perks of working by a project which spans 1-1/2 years - your goals stretches to the end of the project life rather than the end of the weekend. 

Everything is mid 2016, mid 2016, mid 2016. 

On an entirely random and irrelevant note (digress at its best) - I actually come to fear for my boss, as to what I would do by the time the project ends. It would be a career milestone for me too, to a moderately large extent, overseeing an entire project by myself.

At least that's what it feels like, to me. Heh.
(If I were to be modest, 3/4 of the project. Fine, realistically speaking there's a segment of it classified as a pipeline project - but hey! A singular core plant and it's utility systems is enough to tire someone down to their knees, BUT NOT MA KNEES!)

I should probably amend the title of this blog as "Muted Monologues.". Has some form of irony tucked in the title. 

Too cold outside for angels to fly

It struck me just the other day - why do most people dread the Mondays? 
But I don't, and in some sense I look forward to it. 

Aside from the textbook answer that I usually give - it felt like as though there's a villain mind in the midst of the clockwork. Then a thought came to me, 

The reality I live in is a distraction, from the nightmarish dream which most people would just linger there, gazing into the sea of stars in the night skies bathed in a light touch of creamy moonlight - where I would stare down into the ankle-deep lake of blood, echoes in the past resonating with the ripples of every muscle you move...

on and on and on and on and on an on an o a on a........

Iris contracts, heightened retina sensors - the reflection of the moon be all your subject - infinite penumbra in the perimeter - that blood soaked moon. If light could defy laws, it'd be like a mirrors in opposing panes, minus the duplication of your image. Like dressing rooms.

But you'd see the folks gazing right at you. Because you're from the moon. 

In the midst of the million-fold folly you're witnessing, "human stupidity", "stupid! stupid! i hate them!" is your cassette on replay. Couple with emotion-stirring tunes like those of Etude Chopin Op 10 no. 4 and the slurred black ferric cassette tape entangling and retraining your arm - it went on like the replays...

on and on and on and on and on an on an o a on a........

Months would feel like hours and hours like an instance. 
Snap out of it.
Who is this madman?

There you see your own self, staring down at his own feet, which reflected his - no, me. 

Snap. 

You're now throat-deep submerged in the lake. 
Not forgetting a "lake of what?", memories wind back. centrifuging all the lost time like those black ferric tape back into the cassette.  

The cassette is now tucked safely in your pocket. As if Frodo from Lord of the Rings could be any more paranoid, you've tapped your pocket to check for its existence. 
As confused as you are with the fact that - why keep that?

Alarm O' Distraction Bell rings - 5.45 AM on a Monday. Snooze a one two or three times - you're actually all ready to embrace the coming week. And a tap on your pocket, you're there again, looking down on the low life(s) who have no regard of appreciation for life whatsoever. 

/tap, yeap, still there. 

Nothing in everything; everything in nothing.

So I've got my job promotion, bonus and salary increment.
Congratulations to myself. 

And for a fraction of a second, I was delighted.
Then the parasitic growth of an ill feeling went on an uncontrollable rampage. I won't even say its a thought, because this feeling is far from maturity, far from materializing into a thought. 

Perhaps it's the turn of events on that day. 
I would say it's never quite in my repertoire to repeat the same mistake twice - but a mistake indeed for me to let loose of my anger again.
It haunts me because of my lack of self-control, and because it's not even the person's fault to begin with - and yet im letting loose of my rage, because being around that person equates to my comfort zone.

I mean, what sort of logic is that? 
It bothers me because of how these responses from me are naturally occurring, and in the book of logic (mind you, not conforming to the society's, but my very own one) it made no sense whatsoever!

Then again, as I live past each day it's starting to unravel - am I just too used to rejecting people who cares for me? Perhaps too much past experiences in getting hurt - like the dim glow from the latent heat of a burning charcoal, tame, but re-ignites on gusts of wind - the yes, and the no - it's all too tiring. 
It's really heartwarming to know that someone out there cares for you, but I'd always wind up being suspicious. Deep down, I too know, and no denying, I yearn for it. 
Ultimately I'd figure it would just be my fear, eventually I would, or already am caving in to it. 

Sometimes, you'd wish you could just keep telling the person "Sorry"

Because of insecurities, it made forgiveness looked all like a facade

And the looping guilt 

makes you really think you'd need some help sometimes.

Furthermore to that, every time I GET something, it leaves me behind with the feeling that I HAVE nothing at all. It's always in nothingness I can see clearly, the things that I truly value and possess. 

It's almost like as though I blame myself for swaying off and losing touch of who I really am, whenever I get things, distractions, temptations.

Sometimes an unorthodox feeling of self-loathe surges. Short-lived, perhaps for a few days - but still, you know. 

I sure am still learning about myself.

The bottom of things

Watched Interstellar again.

And it struck me even harder this time. 

That knowledge belittles us, and how sickening the society is to me.

People stopped seeking the full truth, they've based their facts off some scraps shared on whatsapp, no basis, no reference, no facts.

People abused the knowledge, isnt it suppose to make us more humble?

They're always so caught up with materialism. Money, and money.

What happened to the hunger of wanting to know more, the excitement of not knowing something, and the satisfaction when you've uncovered something new?

It's a rare scene for people to actually mouth the words "I don't know, but can you teach me?".

It either silence altogether, and if it ever did advance past "I don't know", it stops at denial, excuses, and a abandonment of responsibility. 

I'm an engineer myself, and I didn't play with Lego or Lasy at a younger age for no reason, and I surely did not made up my mind when I was 16 or 17 to be an engineer on a whim. 

Pity on those who laughed at me for actually admitting I'd like the hard engineering work. You have no passion, and that's why you lack a core self-sustaining soul nourishing tonic, which leads to your hunger to possess things. THINGs that you've so blatantly used and monstrously lie to yourself that it actually matters. Bring it to your sleep each night, bring it to your deathbed, and see how it would pan out at the last moment before you flick the switch to your life. 

There's so much more it is to the matter around us, and yet we dwell in the politics and religions, and behind that veil, lies money, the master puppeteer.

I'm not ignorant, I'm just selective in the knowledge I'd like to gain.

I'm not an ingrate to the silver spoon I'm born with, I'm just disgusted in what it made people to be.

I'm not an anti-social, I'm just more capable of sustaining all that there is to my being by myself, understanding that them approvals has nothing to do with me, and for me to live a life without regrets, and I've always managed to - the decisions must come from myself. 

Birthday - 26

Woke up. Brush up. Freshen up. Eat up. Dress up. Grab my bag, hop into my car, speed through the highways, parked my car, and settle myself in my office cubicle.
Just another day

I'm glad that I have a purpose, I have a commitment. 
Glad that I don't dread the Mondays, glad that I don't dread walking into my office at all.

Lucky to have the allowance to enjoy the ignorance, for it is a bliss.
Lucky too, to be able to live a life parallel to all the disasters and also have the blessing of peace & calm.

Astounded by the fact that I could make decisions in the past year, by myself and for myself only.
Astounding also, to be bold enough to trust my heart and follow the path I genuinely desired. 

Rain just started. A pluviophile I am. 

Yes, lost some friends, but came to gain more of a "me" in myself.

Yes, those were tough times when I was young, but it gave me more courage to love myself even if it means neglecting the need to please some one else. 

Loneliness, is the path of a triumphant warrior. Least that is what I truly believe.

Gone were too, where the lonely days could consume me. I've defeated one of many's most common enemy, for it shall never drive me into desperation ever. 

Wealthy enough to be able to spend on the things that could be of great addition to my life.

Meantime cherished the fact I could discover wealth in such vast, sustaining quantity, and not from the hollows of materialism. 

That was my year of 25 years old.

No checklist, no "10 things to do before you're 30 years old", no excuses made to myself.

Listened to no one but myself, for I am accountable for myself only, and all that I am, or could achieve is all because I followed my heart. 

...and that, is more than any wealth in the world. 

I have myself.