we can get them

for you wholesale

schweet.

#09

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Point of No Return

There've been alot of things on my mind. Things such as eradicating global poverty, human rights violations, the public transportation fare hike, Desperate Housewives, the grand Singapore Blogger Convention conspiracy (sshhhh!), spiralling third world debt, development in robotic legs, the O.C. and advancing world peace have not been on my mind.

Although to be honest, I did try my hand at the sgblogconspiracy, blowing bubbles into my creative juices. The only thing that reluctantly bobbed to the surface was: 'One Con to rule them all, One Con to find them, One Con to bring them all and in the darkness bind them'. Oh, gosh.

I'm going to smoo (SMU for the uninitiated) Econs. Should anyone discover why, kindly inform me. I would really like to know.

Every thought in the past few weeks pertaining to the decision has been dissected, prodded and analysed. Argument, Counter-argument, Counter-counter-argument and so forth. New defenses are built, found to be leaking and left broken. Not one string of thought can proceed without getting hijacked and derailed. Trains of logic run circles around each other. Priorities get shuffled and re-defined. I realise now how to over-think.

It is so easy for one to say "Well, (insert tentative pause here as though the following enquiry requires considerable contemplation to formulate) what do you feel?"

Frankly, I do not know how I feel. Every naunce of emotion that has chanced through me has been stripped, studied and subjected to intense suspicion and scrutiny. Proposition, Rebuttal and rebuttal again, again, again. A self-imposed lobotomy. At the bare, naked, quivering core of it all is an old fear, around which all emotion has been scared away by the intense skepticism, hot, searching and questioning; like a drying mollus feeling for safety.

I feel afraid. And tired. Tired of defending myself from me, justifying myself in front of others and grinning and bearing that half-hearted support that is so marginally better than outright condemnation. The familiar raised brow, the incredulous lightness in tone, the weighed syllables speaking volumes of exasperation, disappointment and disapproval through their cautious pauses, enough to displace the content, though it may be "Oh. You. Have. My. Fullest. Support."

So if anyone asks why I'm not going to NUS law. I'm just going to say, in all honesty, 'I don't know.' Because I really don't. Maybe I once did, but not anymore.

en at 2:37 am

|

|