{"id":2852,"date":"2007-08-23T02:08:33","date_gmt":"2007-08-23T02:08:33","guid":{"rendered":""},"modified":"2007-08-23T02:08:33","modified_gmt":"2007-08-23T02:08:33","slug":"-Just-One-Of-Those-Days","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/?p=2852","title":{"rendered":"Just One Of Those Days"},"content":{"rendered":"

Some days I just feel like being random — and speak in tidbits instead of coherent sentences. I hate these days when I'm right smacked at the bottom of the wheel.<\/span><\/p>\n

I. Keep Moving<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

Everyone has bad days right? And every once in a while we get slammed.<\/span><\/p>\n

Right?<\/span><\/p>\n

Today was a pothole down my road… more like a giant manhole infested with maggots the size of big macs. I don't know why I constantly let trivial things get to me like the pettiness of people, for instance. I know I'm entirely above that but why does it still bother me? Why do I let it bother me? <\/span><\/p>\n

I know better than to trust people. It's something that I've picked up along the way — mostly from smart people who give me sound advice. It makes sense; it's the wise thing to do. Sometimes I slip though. I feel that I'm naturally trusting… or perhaps just too naive. There are atypically atrocious people crawling the earth. And it's beyond me why I insist on getting burnt multiple times. <\/span><\/p>\n

Another thing that bothers me is the obscene amount of self-absorbent people out there. When did the vexed ship from Planet Selfish sail over to Earth to bring all these immigrants in? And why do they procreate in exponential rates? <\/span><\/p>\n

People who are true and sincere listeners are a rare commodity. But when I seemingly find someone like that, I get scared… I get scared that they would think I'm self-absorbent. I don't like being the epitome of my own worst enemy.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sadly, I think it's getting there. I'm becoming my own worst enemy. I need to listen to myself more.<\/span><\/p>\n

Before, during my hey days (or so-called ones), when I was upset I would reach for a cigarette and a glass of soda+vodka. I would tell myself that it'll make me feel better. And it did. The only problem was, once my lungs could no longer tolerate the killer smoke, the problems come back. It's like they were put on hold while I finished taking in my toxins and then would come back to bite me even harder in the behind. After I flick the last butt, I realize that I'm back to square one… again.<\/span>
<\/p>\n

II. Need…More…Sleep…<\/span><\/p>\n

Sometimes it feels like trudging through mud and glue. So exhausting — both physically and mentally. As as we get older, it seems like responsibilities and obligations just keep on piling up. Never running out of things to do. I pray that life won't lose its meaning… and for everyone I care about to never stray. It's only at the end that you realize what is most important. Through the everyday dealings, they seem rather trivial — often we take for granted the presence of our reasons for living.<\/span>
<\/span>
Every moment that I get where I don't have to deal with worldly things, I just wish to sleep. If only I can sleep forever and never have to open my eyes again. I feel drained, I feel tired. And I especially feel lost. And scared. What if the feelings of dread never stop???<\/span>
<\/span>
I like the musical laughters that I hear and the smiling eyes that I see. It keeps me grounded… it gives me hope. Perhaps at the end of this long tunnel, there is a light after all. It's just something we all have to go through. But why? What for? Is the light worth seeing and working hard towards?<\/span>
<\/span>
Having to hurt some people on your way over, will they heal? Will they forgive? Will they understand? And getting hurt by the people most important to you… they're just going through the tunnel as well. You can't blame them now, can you?<\/span>
<\/span>
I'm tired. I just want to sleep. Because in my dreams, there are no tunnels. All just light.<\/p>\n


III. Doh!<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>I have learned that there are things that are better left unknown. I know someone who always told me: “Remember in the play Oedipus? When the chorus would always go 'You don't want to know' over and over? Well, most of the time, they have a point.” <\/em><\/span>
<\/span>
Stupid chorus. Stupid Oedipus. Stupid me! <\/span>
<\/span>
Ignorance is bliss<\/strong> — I semi-agree with this… but the left part of my brain knows that this is not good enough for me. Why must I have the need to know everything? Why do I always need to know what the score is? <\/span>
<\/span>
To get ahead of the game… that's why.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Some days I just feel like being random — and speak in tidbits instead of coherent sentences. I hate these<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":125,"featured_media":72448,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"colormag_page_container_layout":"default_layout","colormag_page_sidebar_layout":"default_layout","footnotes":""},"categories":[],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2852","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"magazineBlocksPostFeaturedMedia":{"thumbnail":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u-113x150.jpg","medium":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u.jpg","medium_large":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u.jpg","large":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u.jpg","1536x1536":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u.jpg","2048x2048":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u.jpg","colormag-highlighted-post":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u.jpg","colormag-featured-post-medium":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u.jpg","colormag-featured-post-small":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u-113x90.jpg","colormag-featured-image":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u.jpg","colormag-default-news":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u-113x150.jpg","colormag-featured-image-large":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u.jpg","colormag-elementor-block-extra-large-thumbnail":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u.jpg","colormag-elementor-grid-large-thumbnail":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u.jpg","colormag-elementor-grid-small-thumbnail":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u.jpg","colormag-elementor-grid-medium-large-thumbnail":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u.jpg"},"magazineBlocksPostAuthor":{"name":"hudicka","avatar":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/c44cf2138c61cf7ee3230471618da074831d5a37cd73994ffb638baa54f67ce6?s=96&d=mm&r=g"},"magazineBlocksPostCommentsNumber":"0","magazineBlocksPostExcerpt":"Some days I just feel like being random — and speak in tidbits instead of coherent sentences. I hate these","magazineBlocksPostCategories":[],"magazineBlocksPostViewCount":112,"magazineBlocksPostReadTime":4,"magazine_blocks_featured_image_url":{"full":["https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u.jpg",113,170,false],"medium":["https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u.jpg",113,170,false],"thumbnail":["https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/u-113x150.jpg",113,150,true]},"magazine_blocks_author":{"display_name":"hudicka","author_link":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/?author=125"},"magazine_blocks_comment":0,"magazine_blocks_author_image":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/c44cf2138c61cf7ee3230471618da074831d5a37cd73994ffb638baa54f67ce6?s=96&d=mm&r=g","magazine_blocks_category":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2852","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/125"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2852"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2852\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/72448"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2852"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2852"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/asiancemagazine.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2852"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}