Map of the Problematique
Map of The Problematique
One day, I made up this quote that I wish to make famous one day:
‘’Man’s search for love will travel with him to his grave’’
At least, I would like to think I was the creator of that quote. Up until about six years ago, I lived a pretty average/uneventful yet happy life. Every morning, it would be the same routine. Wake up from a good night’s sleep (getting my recommended amount of sleep, eight plus hours), cereal already poured and just waiting on the kitchen table for me to devour, school uniform hanging in my wardrobe and bag packed then to complete the morning ritual…I would enjoy the ride to school.
There was no such thing as deception and addictions in primary school. Instead, it was all fun and games. Perhaps the only challenging thing about primary school was running to the tuck shop to be first in line for that delicious lasagne. And on that note: You were considered ‘’cool’’ if you could afford tuck shop. Which I never could. On the other hand, it wasn’t about aiming to please back then…not at all. Although, it always paid to have some friends; the best thing about primary school was the fact that you weren’t losing friends but instead making them. I made some life-long friends here.
High school; wasn’t quite as fun as primary school…the exact opposite in fact. I could go to the extreme and say this: high school is the breeding grounds for all things demonic. But like I said that’s a bit extreme. I could perhaps tweak it a little and describe it like this: high school is the breeding grounds for all sins. I don’t like to believe that my word is always [and will always continue to be] out-ruled by those who are older and wiser than me but when my peers told me that things were going to change when I hit high school…I gotta say they were absolutely right.
Which leads me back to my opening statement about love following us to our graves. It’s a double sided sword that statement…it can mean: All your love ones and friends will be at your funeral, plucking the heartstrings with their emotional eulogies about my lives accomplishments and distinct memories shared with me. Then everyone will proceed to cry over my pristinely cleaned body saying how they will miss me and wish I hadn’t had died so early in life.
Wishful thinking.
The other and much more morbid side to that quote is: Only my family turn up to my funeral because my friends had given up on me. The eulogies will start off pleasant but slowly fade into darkness because it’s unavoidable. My family will almost be tempted to spit on my body because I had now given them a bad name amongst their peers and friends.
Ok…so maybe that was a little over the top. Guess the sad side to the quote could be about how all of man’s failed love attempts will follow him to his grave. I don’t want to be buried with all my failed love attempts. However, I have this irksome feeling that I will be. Nothing I seem to do in that department is right or justifiable. I have heard it all: ‘’you shouldn’t pursue love…because love is meant to happen naturally’’. Ok…so I have been patiently waiting for four years now and yeah alright I come across my first boyfriend only to be thrown back out into the singles world because he made the mistake of asking me out in the first place. Being the desperado I am, I resorted to the World Wide Web for re-assurance that my one true lover is out there. Well, once again I fell into the trap of thinking that I found him…only to find some equally as desperate as me and boom heart break. All is well…that was probably a beneficial move on my behalf.
I guess I have this curse of falling too hard. We’re talking almost instantly liking someone because I think someone has a positive and polite vibe about them. I get over confident and share my secrets with people I barely know. Word spreads that I like him and well you could imagine well this ended for me. But when I thought everything was doomed a glimpse of hope rises from the ashes of our burnt relationship. An unexpected night of romance after a few alcoholic beverages led me to think perhaps this relationship could work. When alcohol is added into the love equation it goes a little bit like this:
You (you’re hopeless drunk with admiration for this boy) + him (who is rather intoxicated on alcohol) + romantic events = your imagination thinking this will last forever.
Foolish thinking. Very foolish indeed.
The only real way I could explain the feeling is like this: suddenly you know the day of your death. It’s tomorrow. Tomorrow comes and you think that it won’t happen, you remain unafraid and hopeful. Because there is no such thing as knowing the exact day of your death, right? But when the moment comes and you’re starting to have a heart attack. You think to yourself ‘’this is where it’s all going to end and here I thought that I wasn’t going too’’. So, the feeling is a bit like that but replace and adjust it a little. I misled myself into thinking that that night was nothing but pure passion and love. Sudden new found love but nevertheless love! Once again, wishful thinking.
I have this uncanny ability to ease those of their depression. Once being told I am like a human journal. I guess it’s the only thing I have going for me at the moment. With that in mind, I wanted to heal him of his inner demons. I wanted to waste every second of my conscious being helping him becoming a better person instead I am told in a very tight nutshell what it wrong and not even from the bearer. Suppose, I shouldn’t force anyone to confessing there deep dark secrets because well much like myself there is a reason why they’re locked away.
But, all I wanted to do was help.
I always find myself in the same frame of mind…depressed. And it’s always about the same thing…love. Everyone says it’s good to be single; you are much freer to do whatever you please without seeing the one eyed green monster lurking behind you. To hell with that! I want someone to be jealous and get clingy. Someone, who will remind me each and every day that they love me and that I am the best thing that ever happened to them. That I am beautiful not matter what psychical state I am in.
I just want someone to love me.
For God’s sake.
‘’Man’s search for love will travel with him to his grave’’
At least, I would like to think I was the creator of that quote. Up until about six years ago, I lived a pretty average/uneventful yet happy life. Every morning, it would be the same routine. Wake up from a good night’s sleep (getting my recommended amount of sleep, eight plus hours), cereal already poured and just waiting on the kitchen table for me to devour, school uniform hanging in my wardrobe and bag packed then to complete the morning ritual…I would enjoy the ride to school.
There was no such thing as deception and addictions in primary school. Instead, it was all fun and games. Perhaps the only challenging thing about primary school was running to the tuck shop to be first in line for that delicious lasagne. And on that note: You were considered ‘’cool’’ if you could afford tuck shop. Which I never could. On the other hand, it wasn’t about aiming to please back then…not at all. Although, it always paid to have some friends; the best thing about primary school was the fact that you weren’t losing friends but instead making them. I made some life-long friends here.
High school; wasn’t quite as fun as primary school…the exact opposite in fact. I could go to the extreme and say this: high school is the breeding grounds for all things demonic. But like I said that’s a bit extreme. I could perhaps tweak it a little and describe it like this: high school is the breeding grounds for all sins. I don’t like to believe that my word is always [and will always continue to be] out-ruled by those who are older and wiser than me but when my peers told me that things were going to change when I hit high school…I gotta say they were absolutely right.
Which leads me back to my opening statement about love following us to our graves. It’s a double sided sword that statement…it can mean: All your love ones and friends will be at your funeral, plucking the heartstrings with their emotional eulogies about my lives accomplishments and distinct memories shared with me. Then everyone will proceed to cry over my pristinely cleaned body saying how they will miss me and wish I hadn’t had died so early in life.
Wishful thinking.
The other and much more morbid side to that quote is: Only my family turn up to my funeral because my friends had given up on me. The eulogies will start off pleasant but slowly fade into darkness because it’s unavoidable. My family will almost be tempted to spit on my body because I had now given them a bad name amongst their peers and friends.
Ok…so maybe that was a little over the top. Guess the sad side to the quote could be about how all of man’s failed love attempts will follow him to his grave. I don’t want to be buried with all my failed love attempts. However, I have this irksome feeling that I will be. Nothing I seem to do in that department is right or justifiable. I have heard it all: ‘’you shouldn’t pursue love…because love is meant to happen naturally’’. Ok…so I have been patiently waiting for four years now and yeah alright I come across my first boyfriend only to be thrown back out into the singles world because he made the mistake of asking me out in the first place. Being the desperado I am, I resorted to the World Wide Web for re-assurance that my one true lover is out there. Well, once again I fell into the trap of thinking that I found him…only to find some equally as desperate as me and boom heart break. All is well…that was probably a beneficial move on my behalf.
I guess I have this curse of falling too hard. We’re talking almost instantly liking someone because I think someone has a positive and polite vibe about them. I get over confident and share my secrets with people I barely know. Word spreads that I like him and well you could imagine well this ended for me. But when I thought everything was doomed a glimpse of hope rises from the ashes of our burnt relationship. An unexpected night of romance after a few alcoholic beverages led me to think perhaps this relationship could work. When alcohol is added into the love equation it goes a little bit like this:
You (you’re hopeless drunk with admiration for this boy) + him (who is rather intoxicated on alcohol) + romantic events = your imagination thinking this will last forever.
Foolish thinking. Very foolish indeed.
The only real way I could explain the feeling is like this: suddenly you know the day of your death. It’s tomorrow. Tomorrow comes and you think that it won’t happen, you remain unafraid and hopeful. Because there is no such thing as knowing the exact day of your death, right? But when the moment comes and you’re starting to have a heart attack. You think to yourself ‘’this is where it’s all going to end and here I thought that I wasn’t going too’’. So, the feeling is a bit like that but replace and adjust it a little. I misled myself into thinking that that night was nothing but pure passion and love. Sudden new found love but nevertheless love! Once again, wishful thinking.
I have this uncanny ability to ease those of their depression. Once being told I am like a human journal. I guess it’s the only thing I have going for me at the moment. With that in mind, I wanted to heal him of his inner demons. I wanted to waste every second of my conscious being helping him becoming a better person instead I am told in a very tight nutshell what it wrong and not even from the bearer. Suppose, I shouldn’t force anyone to confessing there deep dark secrets because well much like myself there is a reason why they’re locked away.
But, all I wanted to do was help.
I always find myself in the same frame of mind…depressed. And it’s always about the same thing…love. Everyone says it’s good to be single; you are much freer to do whatever you please without seeing the one eyed green monster lurking behind you. To hell with that! I want someone to be jealous and get clingy. Someone, who will remind me each and every day that they love me and that I am the best thing that ever happened to them. That I am beautiful not matter what psychical state I am in.
I just want someone to love me.
For God’s sake.