I never want to forget those raw emotions that made me so resolute on certain things, those intense feelings that motivated or even inspired me. But as I return to my old livejournals and read some entries, I find myself asking who that girl is. Was I ever that funny or angsty or sad or happy? I don’t seem to remember much of that girl. She’s like a fleeting shadow that I once fell in love with, but has since retired to the old quarters of my memory that I hardly polish. That intensity of love still manages to eke out a tinge of pain, but that’s all that evicts. That’s all that it provokes. A song from one of my favourite musicals reminded me of this familiar instant - The Confrontation from Miss Saigon. This American soldier loved this Vietnamese girl with all his heart, and even married her and gave her a child. But after he returned to the US, he cleanly forgot about her and started a new life with another woman. The audience would scream of an unfaithful, irresponsible man, but it is not uncommon. It is not unthinkable, and it is definitely not inexplicable. How many people out there are faultless? How many people have never made a mistake in their lives? How many people have just truly loved one person in their lives? Perhaps such people exist, but people who don’t dare to love, haven’t truly lived. Unfortunately, I think I am becoming such a person.

Have I truly become someone who’s willing to live a simple life, content to stand by the sidelines and blend in with the crowd? Really, what is the merit of being different? An ordinary life, with a husband and lovely children, with a good job, with a good education - what’s not to like? Yet why do I hanker for something else? Why do I yearn for something more, something out of the ordinary? These are not words of a cheating wife, or the thoughts of an old man willing to shell out diamonds for that young foxy lady hanging off his arm. I used to wonder how people can be happy with their 8-5 jobs and their mundane lifestyles. Now it seems that there is nothing wrong with being content with their lot. Soon, I am going to bid teenhood goodbye, and take on life as an adult. Have I been adulterated (pun not intended) by life and its way of life (pun not intended either)? I used to like Michael Learns To Rock and wonder what’s it like to live those experiences of love that they croon in their songs. But now that I’m older and had tastes of what love’s like, those love songs lose their meaning. Love definitely isn’t unique, so why is everyone pursuing it? Why does everyone pursue things that are a dime a dozen? A high-paying job, a loving wife, obedient children who grow up to become doctors, lawyers and engineers…

One dream dies, and one dream starts. Have I lost myself in the process? Perhaps life sets out to put you right, and those that do not conform just lie as outcasts and sing their own happy song. To each his own? I no longer want to be in the thick of things - I know I bruise easily, and will be chucked out like a bad apple in an instant. I would rather watch from the sidelines, watching each move intently like spectators at a football match, cheering whenever a goal is scored, and dissing when a foul committed, even shouting “referee kayu” with fellow supporters. Or like the audience at a musical, wide-eyed and thoroughly taken by the protagonist. Is it wrong to be angry with the other team for winning? Is it wrong to feel too much for the main female lead, and neglect all the others? To be opinionated is one thing, and to be biased is another. Appeal to Emotion, a logical fallacy, as Philosophy calls it.

Okay I have to stop abruptly because there are too many distractions in multiple digressions. I’d make a brilliant lecturer ;)

Perhaps I was really born to disappoint.