People are always like

"Wow Bryan, you're so hardworking/disciplined/committed" blah blah blah

Bitch please.

I'm consistent.

I'm relentless.

Not because I'm disciplined, but precisely because I'm not.

I cannot bring myself to do something against my nature so I create habits.

I alter my nature to suit the goals I want to achieve.

I'm not someone who can wake up on time without enough sleep. So I ensure I get enough sleep.

I tire myself out if my sleep schedule is screwed up.

I'm not the type of person to consciously study. So I force myself to stay in school with nothing better to do.

I do all my studying in school till 6pm every day regardless of lessons.

I'm not the type who exercises a lot. So I made it a habit to go to the gym every Friday with a fixed workout schedule.

I force myself to work out by waking up early and not having anything to do on Fridays.

Am I very hardworking or disciplined? I don't think so.

I gave up on trying to change my bad habits. Instead, I created new habits for myself.







You can't make people not take you for granted.

The only thing you can do is be good to every person you meet, till you find one who doesn't.

Shhh...
Danger isn't always loud and angry.
Red, fire engine, fire, clouds.
A fight doesn't always end when you've been knocked down.
Fight, punch, fruit juice, islands.
Sometimes, the world will try and convince you that dying is the most polite thing you could do.
Please, thank you, no I don't mind at all, go ahead. 
Sometimes, they will make giving up feel just like going to sleep.
You've done enough, rest now, there's no need to carry on. 
You are not in your bed. You are on the street. And you need to wake up and fight.
Now.

I wrote this for you







Attractiveness and appearances are different afterall.

I'm only quiet because I'm worried that if you push me too far, one day I will open my mouth and I will scream so loudly, it will shatter and break the whole world.

I wrote this for you

I can't count how many times I've felt this way.







The problem with existing as an abnormality is that you neither fit in with the normals nor the outcasts.

You end up kinda straddled in between, not sure of where to place your beliefs and loyalties.

And then you take a side (eventually) but it doesn't suit you completely.

They will still reject things you hold dear.

They find it unacceptable, or irrelevant.

Then you ask yourself, what was the point of taking sides all along?

The problem with square pegs and round holes can be solved with square holes... but what if you're not even a peg in the first place? What if you're like... a cube, or a sphere or a pyramid?

Where do you go?

I know you think you define me. 

But each brush stroke thinks it's important when it's on the canvas and each brush stroke thinks that it's the last and that the painting will be done when the brush leaves the canvas again. 

But it isn't. You are just the shading. You are a dot. And I am the one holding the paintbrush.

I wrote this for you















Somehow I keep hearing about the Soul Mate Fallacy recently.

On xkcd, on some forum, on a youtube video.

And it's just something I can't wrap my head around.

Ok fine. I can wrap my head around it. I understand it, it seems perfectly fair and logical but I just don't like it.

I don't want to accept it. Or rather my given circumstances mean that accepting it is an acceptance that I have to try again. By defining that a soul mate can exist in a multitude of people, I remove determinism. I remove fate as a reason (excuse). I don't absolve myself of blame if I die old and lonely (of course I've come to accept this as a very real possibility but making myself responsible for the situation is another thing altogether).

That's scary isn't it? That, you fucked up, and hence you're in the state you're in. You never find "true love" not because you were not fated to find it, but simply because you didn't try hard enough to meet the right person. Or you didn't put enough effort into your relationship. Or something like that.

I'd rather live with the explanation that sometimes, when it comes to human relationships, some things just fail. People change. Or people hide what they really were and we find out too late sometimes. Or we hide what we really were and people can't accept it when we show them.

I'd rather live with the "if it happens, it happens" mentality. It seems more reasonable. What's the point of trying hard and getting hurt over and over again? You just lose a little of your soul every single time. Till there's nothing left and till you don't want to try anymore. Or you can't. Because you can't believe in it any longer. Yeah. That's really what I'm afraid of. I want to retain that little bit of innocence still. Maybe true love is a fairy tale. Like Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy. But it's fairy tale I want to believe in.







This world is so obsessed with appearances.

Sometimes I wonder who looks past the facade. Even I fall victim to appearances sometimes.

One of my greatest fears is that if even I, who actively tries to pierce the veil, who actively attempts to sidestep this thing we call appearances, still make the mistake, then how about the billions of others who don't? Perhaps they never will.

Perhaps appearances will just end up defining us all.







Today is so not my day.







The illusion of choice.







A similar you?

Is that what we actually look for?

The universe curves, as does the Earth. And as hard as you try and run away from everything you are, you'll find yourself where you left yourself when you come home. Just tired.  

Fix yourself before you try and outrun yourself.

I wrote this for you

This was just all too relatable.







I had a super weird dream like, yesterday or something and suddenly I can't remember what it was.







I am an anarchist.

I find order in chaos. I live in chaos. I thrive on chaos.

While other people need systems, formats, planned ways of doing things, I work best when these aren't available. That doesn't mean I'm not organized, heavens no. It just means that I organize differently. That I work best when I am allowed to do my own organization and not have something handed to me already structured.

Structure is problematic for me. I deconstruct. I tear apart. And I rebuild.

Hierarchy does not make sense to me. Egalitarianism is preferred. I do not lead unless I have to. I prefer to move the group as an organism rather than as an organization. Adaptability is always my priority. It would be best if anyone could step as a leader than have fixed roles. Roles are good, but they need to be able to be changed at any time, in a moments notice.

Chaos is the state of nature in my opinion. Structure is only imposed on it by humans. How silly. Structure is not a catch-all solution. There are bound to be outliers, problems on the fringes that structure cannot solve. That is where I exist along with many others, living on the chaos that the system cannot correct. Too many people fear chaos to venture into our territory. They feel safe with the orderly, the familiar.

Anarchy and chaos should not be reviled. They are natural. They make perfect sense, if only everyone so obsessed with structure and order would take the time to try and understand them.

Order in chaos.

"How do you feel?"  

"Cold and lonely. Since the beginning of time, everything's been moving away from me. That's what it means to be at the centre. I don't understand why anyone would want to be me."

I wrote this for you

Because at the centre of the universe there is nothing but yourself.







Ok, I think I've figured it out.

I mean, not that. That'll probably take a long time to figure out. Still, it actually helps to explain what I'm about to talk about.

Giving it some thought, I think I've understood why I do things the way I do. Why I get obsessed with things. Why I enjoy being obsessed with things. Why I get obsessed with so many things. Like, cooking, Street Fighter, video games, books, sociology, psychology blah blah, ect.

I do it to escape. I drown myself in something to forget how aware I am that life may possibly have no meaning.

I'm someone with a very acute sense of self awareness. And self awareness is painful. It's disturbing. Knowing exactly how you're like, knowing exactly what you're not, is excruciating  People don't like self awareness. They prefer to delude themselves into thinking they're something else. They prefer to reject reality and substitute it with their own. To just ignore criticisms or live in their own imaginary bubbles where they are failures but they don't care, they don't recognise it. But I can't.

So I escape. I escape by having something that is so all consuming, or at least, I make it so all consuming that I can ignore myself. That I can ignore that nagging sense of meaninglessness. So that I can ignore the perceived inadequacy of myself. Of life in general.

I enjoy that feeling. It shuts out the silence. It fills my life with noise. With meaning. Created meaning, but still meaning. Better than no meaning. Better than being acutely aware of myself.

But that escapism isn't just escapism. It's real. For that moment I drowning in what I like, I find real meaning in life.







The thing is that I had an extremely productive weekend and that feeling just comes and bothers me still.

I finished a presentation assignment, I learnt how to cook steak, I had some good bro time with SF4. But still, it comes.

So I can't really chase it away by being productive, by doing meaningful things.

If I only understood what you are. Sigh.







You're back.

No matter how I try to distance myself from you, you always come back.

And every time you come back, you leave me wondering if you ever left in the first place.

You make me question everything I do. You make me question the way I live my life.

You break me. Yet, you make me. If I never felt you, I would have never wanted to do so many of the things in my life.

Yet, sometimes I wonder if I do things because I want to or just because I want to get away from you.

Welcome back, Meaninglessness. Welcome back.

Maybe you are my raison d'etre. And yet at the same time my raison pour ne pas être.







Not sure if sick or just really in need of sleep. Bye.







I. am. so. bored.

My worry is that what you measure yourself with ends up defining you. You pour yourself into the thing that measures you and it defines you. And I just hope that one day you find out that you're fuller when you measure yourself in love and people and moments, instead of things, adoration and money.

I wrote this for you

THIS







Some people live in such different worlds that I've begun to think that a reconciliation of these worlds may be impossible.

Yet you still value the things you've lost the most. Because the things you've lost are still perfect in your head. They never rusted. They never broke. They are made of the memories you once had, which only grow rosier and brighter, day by day. They are made of the dreams of how wonderful things could have been and must never suffer the indignity of actually still existing. Of being real. Of having flaws. Of breaking and deteriorating.  

 Only the things you no longer have will always be perfect.

I wrote this for you 







Sudden epiphany of self awareness.







But I guess the hardest person to figure out is always yourself.

Because you don't get to interact with yourself, you don't get to see yourself doing things, you don't actually know what you look like in the eyes of other people. Your conception of yourself is always biased, flawed in some way. You are given the advantage of introspection but yet denied the perspective of extrospection; you know what you think and what you feel but are not aware of how your actions define what you want and what you believe.







Some people are hard to figure out.







Perfect people don't exist, for it is our imperfections that make us complete.







My superpower is being invisible.

Howling at the moon.



Just a lone wolf.
1988
Single
Worldweary



Easy come
Easy go
Little high
Little low



His happy ending.


Emily


Designer: SaSuKe
image: AnimePaper



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