This Blog is an outlet for the random thoughts of an amateur opinionator.
What's an opinionator?
An opinionator is somebody who has power without responsibility, and the ability to spout off on any subject without worrying too much about the consequences of what comes out of the mouth. All you need is an opinion and the opportunity to voice it.
TV is full of professional opinionators. The internet gives the amateur his chance.
> LOVE-state
Author: aLmich
I've been having a hard time lately. Either that, or I'm just being too hard on myself. Jealousy can kill, I know.
So far, it's been around three weeks of mediocrity. Three weeks of nonchalant concern for anything, everything I could possibly hope to care about. It's a carefree outlook that's becoming too familiar, as far as I'm concerned. Too common. Too embedded in my subconscious self.
To the point of being scary.
Why the boredom? The incessant fascination with self-destructive behavior? The unexplained wild mood swings? The thought of being jealous for no apparent reason?
It's too early to be anything that resembles any form of mid-life crisis-esque condition. It's too late for it be some kind of quasi-adolescent phenomenon. Or is it?
I don't know. It's starting to be too complicated for me. For my own good. I enjoy the challenge now and then. But this one... I am tempted to say, is proving itself to be too much for me. I thought I'm over this. I thought I'm too tough to love again.
Ha! I never thought I'd get around to saying these again. This day, most of all. Today.
But I have no answers to offer myself. That's the worse part. My mind is as blank as it could ever be. A clean slate that's not of the type we're supposed to have at this point in our lives. I am lost in my own prison cell --- bound by walls of restlessness, apathy and unabated self-flagellation.
Ah, the tragedy!
And there is no ending to this sad little tale. Nothing I'd gladly hold on to. Look forward to.
If there ever is some drug I could take; a song I could listen to; an advice I could promptly put to heart. Hand it over, please.
I will forever be indebted.
So far, it's been around three weeks of mediocrity. Three weeks of nonchalant concern for anything, everything I could possibly hope to care about. It's a carefree outlook that's becoming too familiar, as far as I'm concerned. Too common. Too embedded in my subconscious self.
To the point of being scary.
Why the boredom? The incessant fascination with self-destructive behavior? The unexplained wild mood swings? The thought of being jealous for no apparent reason?
It's too early to be anything that resembles any form of mid-life crisis-esque condition. It's too late for it be some kind of quasi-adolescent phenomenon. Or is it?
I don't know. It's starting to be too complicated for me. For my own good. I enjoy the challenge now and then. But this one... I am tempted to say, is proving itself to be too much for me. I thought I'm over this. I thought I'm too tough to love again.
Ha! I never thought I'd get around to saying these again. This day, most of all. Today.
But I have no answers to offer myself. That's the worse part. My mind is as blank as it could ever be. A clean slate that's not of the type we're supposed to have at this point in our lives. I am lost in my own prison cell --- bound by walls of restlessness, apathy and unabated self-flagellation.
Ah, the tragedy!
And there is no ending to this sad little tale. Nothing I'd gladly hold on to. Look forward to.
Sawa ka na ba
Sa mga hassle sa buhay mo?
Ayaw mo na bang
Mag-isip para sa sarili?
--- Eraserheads
Sa mga hassle sa buhay mo?
Ayaw mo na bang
Mag-isip para sa sarili?
--- Eraserheads
If there ever is some drug I could take; a song I could listen to; an advice I could promptly put to heart. Hand it over, please.
I will forever be indebted.
