It's Just One of those Days

I've been tired lately. I attribute that little fact to my rather regular visits with the acupuncture doctor who seems to find pleasure in sticking those long thin needles into my fragile little face. It never really hurts when he inserts it in my scalp or in my ankles, but there's a biting pain whenever he tries to tap it in my cheeks. After every session, I attest that I do awfully tired. I've been sleeping alot lately despite the return of classes - a problem, I believe.

I find little interest in the things that interest me before. I fear that my dedication to my organization is slowly wavering - or is it because I once again feel choked by the system. I never really seem to be able to feel comfortable in the whole system of things, like some missing piece with no niche to be fitted in. I recall often my non-stop reminding to people of my enthusiasm to be part of the Arts committee; but now that I am amongst them, I find that it is just another stupid trap - that trap of "objective" creativity. The use of art to define oneself into the system, not to create, but to define and remind. I feel like copying everyone else's work - why? Because they worked the first time. And when they do try something new, it has to be acknowledged with such a celebration. People, grow up!

I guess, this is the smaller picture of the outside world I fear - risk averse, repetitious conformity and recollection of pasts because in being risk averse one can never go wrong, with conformity one can achieve unity and recollection of pasts one can never grow old. Ugh. Is this philosophy perhaps branching out from the ideal Chinese way where men get the bacon and women stay at home under the management of her terrorizing mother-in-law with no verbal or actual rights. Is this also the reason why being different was never once propagated in my high school - the "right" way and the "wrong" way and never the "let's try out and see" way? Is this how we try to build people, train them like robots capable of following orders? Why is creation such a scary thing? Oh right, sometimes we don't have control what the baby may look like - but isn't that the beauty of it?

I guess I am being mean, I just feel like a handicap in the whole system that sometimes I don't mind moving away. If I don't, I may subject myself into the box that I fear would chain me up into "sanity"(although this box is only apparent in my vision of thought), but if I do, then it would mean a great deal of loss in terms of acquaintances, friends, and experience - not to mention a flabberghasting black hole in my resume that may eat up into oblivion, the rest of my potentials. Question is, do I have potentials? or do I simply blind myself, answering my questions with the answers I desire to gain since, I cannot truly face reality. Creating my own philosophies and beliefs in order to escape the gaping stare of "hello, I'm reality!".. On second thought, the mind is a brilliant thing - capable of creating it's own paradigms - a heaven out of hell and a hell out of heaven.

Is optimism perhaps the answer? Seeing things with a half filled glass perspective? or is this optimism, the dum-dum way's of saying.. "hey, it's the way it is, deal with it! I don't want to think anymore"...

Interesting....