01/28/10

Febrile & Slaved by Time


I'm feeling sick today..I suppose this was due to the exhausting dissection of a cat and inefficaciously locate its muscles, memorize the names, and snuffing volatile, though diluted mixture of water and formaldehyde, which by the way if constantly within a feet from your visage squeezes tears from your eyes. And believe me, this type of crying is not therapeutic. Every now and then, my sinusitis erupts like an unnoticeable breeze, tickles the insides of my nose, and produces a relaxing, though irating at times, sneeze. Sneeze really feels good, only if it is done once, or twice. It cleanses your nostrils from dust, debris, and booger.. Believe me, a clear nose is a clear mind. =]


Enough of the booger talk. I am not the easily disgusted type of person, but it is not worth expounding and revolving around with. Life still has many things untackled, and though booger may be one of it, it is not worthwhile at this moment in time.This day was again mediocre. Nothing astonishing or even slightly beyond ordinary. The things i perfunctorily do are again haunting me. I hate routines, and i am the type of person who does not adhere to well-established routine as it makes me gag and it bores me. Routines are like toxins injected into the bloodstream of our daily lives. They may let u feel temporarily energized, but the after-effects are causes of maladies. When we become slaves of routines, we are no longer in control of our lives. Though we think we are, and though we are, our control is unsubstantial, and it breeds emptiness since we no longer feel satisfied with what we are living for and living with. Routines are bereft of contention, therefore not of our own and willing. Without the will, man cannot give consent, therefore does not command the act. If man does not command the act, then who is when we are engaged in our hypnotizing routines?

Routines are the culprit of the constant stream of depressive cases in this now-globalized world. It removes the interest in the lives of people. Without interest, what would people be living with? They say that work minus fun equals job; it is somewhat true since people's works today is grounded on practicality, which for me is bogus, asinine, and cantankerous. We should have an intimate feeling of like towards the things we do, for if we do not, then it is a forced and externally-commanded act.
What then is the problem of doing something outside our will? Firstly, without our willing it, we are not consenting it. Meaning, we did it out of habit or fear, out of protecting something or someone. Man must be in control of his life in order
for him to fully live it. When we are not ahold of our stirring wheels, our life would meander out of control; aimless and amok. For man to fully appreciate his existence, his fleeting existence, he should be in the driver's seat. Man is responsible for his life, his actions, and his choices. We responsibly choose our paths taken, we should also responsibly confront the consequences that is entailed after it. Then again, since man chooses, he should know beforehand what the consequences of his choice will be.

I refuse to be a serf of routine. I will not work for it, with or without pay. I am not denying though that i am in a predicament of a routine-based life, but i assert that i am not enjoying every bit of it. Well, some spontaneous unfolding may lighten up a little filament of my life, there is a paucity of it. There is a paucity of everything nowadays. From an invigorating sleep to an invigorated waking. Sleep is no longer the master of people, especially my classmates in 117. Sleep has been junked, ignored, and even suppressed. Its drowsying power is no longer working. Sleep deprivation is now a common ordeal, ailment if i may. But i'm pretty sure that after all of these, chest-raising or chest-excavating it may be, everyone who was cursed by such sickening disease will celebrate. I am one of them, and will see to it that i will be having fun, relaxation, and letting all my frustrations out. I am already thinking of how i can release my still crunked up frustrations in my chest.

Tonight, again, i am void of work. I am not one to complain, since these kind of days are scarce. I miss these days, and wish that all of these will one day depart and liberate me from exhaustion and frustrations. Again, freedom may be innate in all of us, as of these moment and epoch, i still feel a slave of social interest. My mind may be free, unleashed and amorphic, but the bearer of the mind is trapped in the vortex of dizzying death experienced while breathing. Free me! So i may stand a better chance of being able to inquire without restraints. Quoting Maya Angelou: "Only caged birds sing!"... I don't sing though..I berate..

Sleep..I'll be coming to you any time soon..Bring me to the land of intangible visions of panorama and nostalgia..=]