Thursday, October 1, 2009

Tales from the Drunk (and Painful) Side: Days of the Sermon in Thunder

I woke up today, with a splitting headache.

So I took lots of fibre and drank lots of water, saving my last painkiller combo for tonight, before I go to sleep.

And then, I went to the office. And then to an assignment. And back to the office again.

After that, it was off to Anthea's birthday celebrations. I made a very quick stop at my apartment to drop off my bag and take something that belongs to someone and pass it at the club.

All throughout the day, gritting my teeth in pain.

And then, people started singing. Thank God there was very little dancing. Otherwise, I would have puked.

I don't like pain. Don't handle it very well. Hence, the collection of painkillers. Just need to manage it, somewhat, as I can get addicted very easily.

So, pretty much an uneventful day, except for the pain.

These days, I am more silent than before.

See, when I started taking extra care when my ego starts to rear its ugly head, I find less reason to speak or to tell stories of pain and suffering.

I find less things to complain about. I'm not complaining about THAT!

It would be like Claire Bennet, from Heroes season 3.

Claire: I can't feel pain! Oh! Woe is meee!

Me: Fuck you, Claire!

I mean, sometimes I do feel like fighting, arguing. Like proving people they're wrong. However, realising that proving people wrong is merely myself trying assert my ego as being BETTER than other people's ego, and knowing that it would never end - been there, done that - it is all pointless.

Pyrrhic victories all around! In a competition about who is the better person - such a subjective and pointless comparison, I mean, it's not like it's quantifiable like who is faster in a 100 metre dash - there could be no winner.

If you think about it, all forms of put-downs and insults and judgments are all some small ego bullshit trying to tackle another ego.

How you react shows how you think of yourself. I mean, if you are extremely bothered by small things, then you see yourself as small. Shows that really small things can affect everything you do or feel.

And whenever you hate something, you are merely reacting to something you recognise in yourself. No one fights in the dark. You only go out of your way to strike at something you truly recognise.

It has not been easy. My instincts tell me to lash out and destroy, destroy, DESTROY!

However, the results have never been good, with that approach. Believe me, I tried it out. There are so many ways, oh-so-delicious ways to destroy other people's egos and make my own ego feel bigger.

It takes a superhuman effort not to react. Sometimes, I fail. SOmetimes, I succeed. Let me tell you that when it works, it's fucking sweet. Everything comes together, and it clicks.

When I fail, or hit a brick wall, I can stay down, or pick myself up and move forward. No need for pain or drama. I have no use for those anymore.

Look, if you treat everything as a torture and everyone as your enemy, then that is exactly what you will get.

Anything can be used for something. And each and every experience that we get is exactly what we need to move forward.

Some people told me that I'm not funny anymore. They perhaps think that I'm going through some sort of crisis of faith. Maybe.

Truth is, I don't feel like being funny. I don't feel like complaining. I don't feel like belittling people. I do not see or feel the need to compete. On good days, I don't even feel the need to be right.

I do not feel the need to be significant, and it has been a very long time since I felt the need to be loved or hated. Cherished. Which is, essentially, a need for connection.

I am beginning to truly enjoy my own company, and I do not need to pay attention to the 'needy little me' as before.

I was worried that this would affect my work. It has. When you are unencumbered by your own selfish emotional needs, and treat everyone as possible accomplices and not enemies, it is easier to get into 'the zone'. On good days.

It is easier to see what you are doing.

On good days.

Oh well.