The last December post didn’t really happen. I tried to copy one of my previous blog posts from over three years ago and thought I would get away with it. Eventually, I decided not to be lazy.
The past month has been a bit tough, involving a small array of deadly sins such as envy, sloth and gluttony, and then my inability to focus and unload my mind and chest. There is a lack of order in my head that needs a combination of music and writing to think clearly.
Everything that couldn’t wait exposed itself in dreams, and I’ve been scratching myself so hard until I bleed.
I have no ears for news or instructions, not to mention myself, as I can’t focus! I don’t remember the last time I thought creatively. Having called the most important people in England and Germany, I realised where I really was and what I was doing. Entirely certain of the present, I know it’s the right thing, except that my head is clogged; there is a lot of pressure, and I’m so tired.
I often miss Goldsmiths’ library. How they’d forgotten to delete my computer account, and even as alumni, I was able to log in still. Every Saturday, I spent up to six hours there, productively wasting time. I didn’t feel lonely because I could communicate what was important to me back then. This is how my friends know me, though I’m not too sure what’s really been happening in the last couple of months, except that I’ve not expressed myself the right way.
There were too many flashbacks coherent to what I am doing now. Despite being unpleasant, it’s obvious that I need to tackle them and let go of what’s already over. If only I could place my emotions correctly. I’ve always thought my EQ was somewhat higher. I’m not too sure anymore. Right now, I can’t comprehend as if I’ve blocked everything off…and I’m not even doing it deliberately. It probably doesn’t make sense, but I’m not in the mood to even try. There is no point in trying, just doing.
All the loads are so heavy, leaving everything that I express meaningless or misunderstood. My lack of encouragement doesn’t cheer up my friends or guide them towards the right path, leaving me unable to call them to speak some sense because I don’t know what makes sense anymore.
I think too much.
The horse won’t be nice to me. My mum warned me again about the year of the horse. The next Chinese New Year falls on January 31 (John Lydon’s birthday). She says that rats need to be careful as they’ll be prone to injuries; there’s a risk of bleeding. She’ll ask my sister to send me more details.
Well, I’ve done my own research online. Apparently, I need to carry a lot of water, as the horse will be the carrier of fire and it’s going to be very strong next year, and I’m only small. What big change am I going to make?
Argh! I have this feeling that superstition will kill me one day and that the number Four might be more than just a bad omen. Right now, I still have the strength to fight, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m irritated and angry, wishing I had a copy of either American Psycho or In The Miso Soup providing me with some healthy channels of release. I don’t know why reading about gore and disgust and ruthless killers help me calm down.
On the contrary, I would freak out if I were killing anyone in my dreams. I suppose I know the difference between fiction and non-fiction. However, I don’t go over the top in my own writing; I just like reading other people’s pieces of transgressive fiction–the more unreliable the first-person narrator, the better. You are allowed to lie or re-establish a truth that is not as clear as you hope for it to be in real life. Anything semi-autobiographical provides one with opportunities that are only available in one’s imagination. I could never explain to anyone how important fiction is, and I don’t intend to. Tomorrow I will have forgotten what I’ve just written anyway.
I have a love & hate relationship with the horse. I never thought it was beautiful, but I’ve changed my mind. Still, I wouldn’t want to touch it, as it might set me on fire. And yet, I wonder whether the rat will ever be able to make friends with his opposing sign. Will the stars always keep them apart? No one really knows, but I trust my heart most of the time, and it says no to the horse. It wants me under its hooves like he had the snake. (But I think he is secretly in love with the snake. )
Next year will not be peaceful. Watch my tail. Stroke my head now and then. Play with me when I’m bored. Warn me when I’m in danger. Help me steer clear of the deadly sins. Other than that, I shall always be prepared to stand on my own and not depend on anyone.
I think I am quite easy to handle?