Me

by chaotarroo

I was half way writing an lengthy essay delineating the problems of free will until I lost confidence in the lucidity of my thoughts. Stumped in face of my stupidity, my hands become idle and my thoughts are wild, which compels me even more violently to write. So I will on something smaller and simpler: my life.

My weekdays are the same. Tanks and tools surround me and I occupy myself with them when instructed. Spanners weigh much less now, but pen, paper, and responsibility that I hope I can shed like how a snake molts, feels like an incredible dumbbell. “Out of the workshop and into the office”, the despotic dumbbell implies, and the air conditioning – that’s strangely ordered to be precisely adjusted at 24 celsius – couldn’t spare me from the heat.

I dislike responsibilities. Not just when it’s imposed on me like a dead weight but more so as a concept; it’s against what I think the natural order of life is, but I shall not elaborate on that. Especially so when my passion for what I do is practically naught. But against the turbulence of fate, pessimism is probably the worse weapon anyone could wield. If responsibility is what I can’t shed than pessimism is what I must. I should be satisfied for what I do now is a micro simulation of life which is dissatisfaction.

By higher order, for the better of the organization, the depot is experiencing some reshuffling. Regulars and NSFs alike are being manhandled all around the company. It is not yet official to how manpower will be delegated but being quidnucs – which is what most of us are after being moulded under the pressure of joyless sound and fury – we know where we will end up. “We” includes me and I remain ambivalent about my life in a different platoon.

My weekends are a little more different now. The thrill of outdoor is no longer and I spend most my time obsessed with the glamour of movies – thank you my dearest seeders. Ever since Hong Kong, the addiction of novelty has never been stronger and there’s no better way to saving for my next trip than staying home. It is not bad at all for a socially awkward guy like me.

Speaking of movies, my spilling adoration for Woody Allen had goaded me to ship 3 of his movies – that I can’t find from any local video stores – from Amazon which burned a sizable hole in my wallet. While processing my debit card details, I just couldn’t resist the urge of dropping another vinyl in the basket and my akrasia enlarged the hole by almost a fold. I should be ashamed.

Books occupy the remaining of my weekends. After experiencing several letdowns with some of my favourite japanese novelist, I stopped with fiction and moved on to non fiction. Mainly, if not, entirely on philosophy. Unlike stories, which can be criticized on endless facets, I can never go wrong with philosophy. There is so much to learn, seemingly learn, not learn anything, enjoy, and suffer from philosophy. It might sound semantical but only through semantics can I express my love for the subject.

Nothing else here. I lead a boring life and that is all and I can’t wait to spend time with my family in Penang during next weekend.

Bye.

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