Thursday, August 24, 2006
There's total ambiguity in my emotions right now. It's like a never before tasted concoction - incomprehensible, and you never know what the effects will be. I can also allude my feeling to the proverbial box of chocolates by Forrest Gump - I don't know what I'm going to get.
It's a testament to my faith - I believe God hasn't given me justice, at least not yet. But I'm getting impatient. I'm tired of this bondage of being ordinary, mediocre, and trite. As a consequence of my overzealous idealism, I once again fall out of reach with reality's grasp, ending up disappointed and malcontent.
I'm complaining to God: how come Rizal got his Spanish attrition and became national hero afterwards? how come Job had to lose it all and gain them back twofold? how come Galileo had to face inquisition and gained recognition? how come some people have to deal with poverty, and ended up incredibly accomplished by overcoming their handicaps? Why did they have to deal with something of great force, proportionate to their capabilities?
But what about me? WHERE IS THE CHALLENGE IN MY LIFE? I'm cruising. My external struggles merely involve maintaining grades and trying to finish college, and try to establish good relations with people. I was given the easy way out, taking a shortcut. Money, so far, is not a problem. Internal struggles? Trying to analyze what people think of me, or trying to know where life would take me. Dreaming extravagantly. Undergoing self-affirmation.
If the challenges given to me are proportionate to what I can handle, then I feel totally insulted because this is so damn easy, frankly. I should be given something more difficult, something epic, something that if ever accomplished, it would make me feel incredibly fulfilled. But no. There are reasons why I try to strive to the top as often as possible, but if not for those reasons, then I could have just be "happy-go-lucky" and study "just to pass." It's frustrating.
Though it is arrogant to proclaim that I am not content with my life, in comparison with those whofind happiness in the most minute of circumstances, I just have to be honest. I envy them, because they were able to make the most of what they have, and they are probably not aware that there are more dreams for them to strive, while I am struggling to reach my easier ambitions. Those who exceed their expectations and reach the upper echelons of contentment are fortunate people, and I am an asshole who is disparaged with the blessings, asking for more.
I challenged God to give me the ass-whooping that I deserve. For a deviant heathen, I have been given the pillows, instead of rocks. Ultimately, this challenge virtually strips me of shallow emotions and garbs me with the veil of stoicism. Everything feels predictable and weird. Like if something bad really happens, I wouldn't be that shocked. Because I will probably feel that God is merely responding to my challenge. I would probably be more faithfully charged because God listened to my wish.
I'm a determinist believing in God. My life is akin to cards - this is what I've been dealt. I have to play as best as possible. But, (continuing the allegorical card machine), like a poker player already on the short stack, I'm pleading the Lord to give me what I think I deserve, desperately. Just a chance for something special...
It's a circular thing, and it is stupid. But what's more moronic is this - in the end of all wishing, will the thing that I will achieve be labeled contentment or happiness? and is this really what I wanted?
Nevertheless, the ennui continues at 9:07 AM
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