Here I Come to Save the Day

I guess now I really know why I love to dispense advice to friends; sometimes even when they don't want to hear it. It's not just to fix a situation. It's not something I do just so things return to normal.

I love to tell my friends what they need to hear. Not necessarily what they want to hear, but what they need to hear. Bonus points if what I say makes them feel good, and appreciated, and so on. It's a great feeling, knowing that you can help someone. It's not all one-sided though. If my friends act or say something irrational, unfair, or vengeful, I do try to get them to look at the other side of the coin.

I smile, say something affirmative like 'I know' or 'I agree' then I go with the ever-present 'but'. I give them my opinion, often with a disclaimer that I am not all-knowing, what I say might not be correct, and that what I say should not be taken too closely to heart. But I do know that although it may not be right, I know that it's damn well near the truth, or at least what's best in a situation.

After that, I listen to the other side. I compare my mental notes with what the other party says, and fill in the blanks obviously left by my friend, and get the whole picture. A friend of mine says it's much like being a turncoat; I offer information from one side so the other would give me information in return. It's a betray of trust, one that I've never really been too comfortable with.

But(Of course there's a but).

I'm a person of convenience. I find the quickest way possible to ensure the problem is resolved. It would take much longer to slowly gather information from each side if I offer nothing in return. I do so often without the knowledge of both parties. Is it wrong? Yes, very much so. But do I regret it? To this I say, HELL NO. I don't always say that what I know is from the other side. The use of this information usually begins with; "I'm not sure if it's right, but I think that he/she said that because..." and so on. And I'm not afraid of saying 'I think you're being an idiot', but not necessarily using the word 'idiot'.

I don't go around telling people what I know, though. Some secrets are best left unsaid. I only tell others about something if I'm worried about it. Like, for example, if I'm worried about my friend. I might mention it to other close friends to hear what they have to say. Life doesn't revolve around my viewpoint alone; there are others worth listening to as well.

At the end of the day, things usually become normal again. Note that, in my opinion, things being normal again is only a side-effect of me helping my friends. Although I joke a lot with my friends, sometimes being not very nice about it, I do look out for them. Sometimes I complain that they bother me with too many of their own problems, but deep down inside I know that I'd go out of my way to help them. Ideally, I want to keep my friends out of trouble as much as possible.

It's not just about helping your friends up when they fall. It's not just about that. Sometimes, we gotta grab them before they fall. But when they do fall flat on their face, don't bother with false platitudes. Don't just say 'things will get better', or something to that extent. I usually give them what I think is the truth; a healthy dose of nice and a big serving of reality too. For example: "If you really like that person, go for it. But don't expect too much. If he/she only wants to be friends, so be it. You can't expect life to turn out perfect. It isn't a movie. Don't let it get you down. Deal with it." It's more often than not the most obvious bit of knowledge, but you'd be surprised how some people need to be reminded of these things.

And that's how I handle life. Usually it's not my life that's being handled, though.

Before I end this; thanks Lina for the kind words. :) It's unnecessary, of course, because I can't help my friends if I myself need help, but I appreciate it. :)

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Seeing Through A Veil

Why do I always make observations. I realized that sometimes I'm a bit too observant. Or maybe I'm just too quick to make assumptions.

I don't know. I find that I enjoy analyzing my friends. I enjoy listening to what they have to say, I enjoy observing them do whatever it is that they do. I just love to observe, and while I'm at it my mind will interpret the information. And this, in a way, has led me down a path I'm not sure I want to take.

I, knowingly or not, live vicariously through my friends. It is not something that I wish to do. It is unhealthy, in a certain way. Shouldn't I live my life firsthand, as opposed to living it vicariously? Some people say that I can be a bit too perfect at time. I admit that I've never really said or done anything to dissuade that perception; in fact, many times, I've encouraged it. I sometimes say "I'm always right," although I might not be right about that. I observe my friends, and tell them what I think, and make it sound as if I'm the wisest person alive. I'd shake my head, telling them that it's plain common sense, lamenting silly actions and foolish risks. I must have somehow convinced myself that I am wiser than the rest of the world. Only fools believe in their superiority, so am I now a fool? Maybe.

So why am I bothered about this? It's a rather bitter feeling, a feeling of inadequacy, to discover that what I've learned in life may not necessarily be from what I've experienced, but what the people around me have experienced. On the bright side, it means that I make few mistakes and take fewer risks. I've never really experienced the feeling of getting burned by life.

On the other hand, it means that my life isn't as interesting as it ought to be. Isn't life a series of risks, too? How does one expect to live life on the high road for days and weeks and months and years? Is it not tiring, to live such a perfect, uninteresting life? Nothing can maintain a great crescendo for long. At one point or another, the crescendo must end. It isn't a crescendo if it's at that level all the time.

It's easy, you know. Wrapping myself up in so-called wisdom and common sense. Shielding myself from the so-called silly mistakes made by humankind. It is too easy to not know hurt but to never know great pleasure. How does one resign oneself to pain? How does a person leap across a chasm, hoping to get to the other side, but never knowing if you'll make it until only the leap is made? It is too easy to live a life of perfection, of unknown pain and hidden dreams, of imperfect happiness and insatiable hunger. A no-life, as only in life does a person get hurt and still find pleasure in many other days or ways.

I never thought I'd say this, but I find that I long to make mistakes. I long to take a silly leap of faith, getting hurt in the process, turning to my friends for advice instead of me dispensing it. I long to leap and land on my own two feet. If trees had souls, I wonder if they'd feel the same way, wanting to tear themselves out of the ground and walk out of the forest, out of their hidden world of solitude, comfort, and loneliness.

Perhaps I'd stumble, perhaps I'd fall, but I would be happy with the fact that I had lived.

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What the!?

Okay.

I find myself wondering why I'm even the least bit bothered by this.

I, for some inexplicable reason, am annoyed - and amused - that some of my friends have mentioned that when I eat, I seem prim and proper. Well, they didn't necessarily use those words, but the words have been used once or twice.

Not that being well-mannered is a bad thing, you know. It's just that... after all this time, with me trying to be neat with the way I eat, I just found out that it wasn't entirely necessary. But I do find comfort in the fact that it gives a good impression. Also, some women might still look at me eating and say "Gosh, that guy is a pig."

Maybe it's just because prim and proper are usually words reserved for women. It's as if the inner man in me(not that I'm a woman on the outside), upon hearing myself being called prim and proper, looked absolutely scandalized, and indignantly sputtered 'I can eat in a manly manner!' I don't know. It's just that maybe I felt a bit defensive after being called prim and proper, and maybe it made me feel like people wouldn't consider me masculine. Am I making sense? Most guys would do anything to avoid being considered 'girls'. Usually I'm not so worried about that, so I can't explain my current weird position. Besides, why am I stereotyping men as messy? It's not true, there are many fellow men out there who eat neatly. I also shouldn't stereotype women as prim and proper, as not all women are like that.

Of course, maybe they're just joking about my supposed prim and proper manner of eating. Maybe it was said only as a conversation filler, as nothing of importance. I did laugh it off the first time, and the second time, but after the third and following time(s) I realized that there might be some kernel of truth in it. *sigh* I don't really think I eat neatly. I'm horrible with noodles in soup, I practically inhale fast food, and... yea. I don't think I'm a neat eater.

Heh.

Weird huh?

But hey... I do feel a bit good about that. People might think that I'm well-mannered. And I am, but only to a certain extent.

Prim and proper huh? Maybe, just maybe.

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Obligatory update

Okay, so I haven't been here in awhile. As the title implies - this is, in fact, an obligatory post. It's one of those things where after a period of time, despite the fact that I have no real desire to write a new post, I have a distinct feeling that I really should post something. What's the use of a blog if I don't do some blogging, anyway?

What about my life? Nothing much has been going on, really. College is always as it is. Work, strangely enough, hasn't really 'piled up'. Do I even have any homework? Right now, I can honestly say that I do not have any homework. Is that weird? I believe so. Is it disconcerting? Of course. But it isn't unpleasant. It's not even unwelcome. This is the first time in my life where I'm in an educational institution where homework isn't given as often as breaths are taken. That is an unfair exaggeration, of course, but not entirely untrue.

Today... today I had a rare chance to just sit around, and hang around with a friend. My psycho lecturer - I mean, psychoLOGY lecturer - isn't around, so I didn't have any classes today. Well, she's not psycho, she's rather wise in fact, but I just find some amusement in referring to my psychology class as 'psycho'. And how was my day?

Good. Pleasant. Refreshingly uneventful.

When people go on and on about how we should have interesting days, and do interesting things, they don't realize how pleasant, uneventful days can bring so much pleasure. I was, in fact, contemplating going out to the mall; with or without any friends to go with me. In the end, I thought, 'how many days have I actually had the chance to sit at home and essentially do nothing?' That's another way of saying that I was really lazy to go out. Why should I, anyway? Yes, it would be pleasurable. It might have been positively fun, if I had friends along. But I've been out almost everyday, in recent days. I have a job now - well, hardly a job - but it includes me having to be at said mall for at least 6 hours, 2 days a week. Isn't that a good enough dose of 'mall'? I sure think so. Sometimes, we just need to sit down, relax, and have an eventful, uneventful day.

Another thing which I find inconvenient is that I don't have a car. I really, really shouldn't have wrecked the car. That was silly, if not downright stupid. I didn't really realize the ramifications of driving fast. Well, I wasn't going that fast, but it was fast enough that I couldn't stop in time. *sigh* Stupid indeed. As I've read somewhere, dead is dead. It doesn't matter how we die, but dead is dead. The same applies here; stupid is stupid. It doesn't matter how stupid we act, but it is, indeed, stupid.

Okay, now, away from the subject of being stupid, I've been feeling sick recently. It's an odd feeling. It's like a flu, it sure has all the symptoms, but it's not as bad as my usual bouts of flu. It's more of a persistent, unpleasant feeling, one that hangs around for a long time, refusing to disappear. It's not so bad that I would see a doctor, but it's bad enough to be annoying. I hope it goes away. My runny nose, with runny things hanging out of it, doesn't go well with my outfits, I should say.

So. What else is there to say? Just finished reading Chainfire, by Terry Goodkind. It's good, surely better than his last few books, but the ending - BAH. I hate books that have hanging endings that will, of course, be resolved in the next book. In this case, I don't think the next book will be released anytime soon. What a blow to my excitement. Odd, though. This is the only book in his series where a current arc in the storyline isn't resolved in just one book. I do know that the next book will be the last, so that probably contributed to this change. I sincerely hope that he releases the next book soon; preferably tomorrow.

On a similar note, I should get started on my own great masterpiece.

Anyway, I guess that's all for now. I didn't expect this post to go on that long, but... heh. Nothing wrong with flexing my writing muscles. At least they're more well-built than my real muscles. Note to self; haul ass off chair and exercise. Date of note; indefinite.

So, with a flourish of my imaginary quill(how Harry Potter-ish of me), I bid everyone goodnight, sweet dreams, and have pleasant, uneventful days.

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