Monday, 28 March 2011

"I'm sentimental, so I walk in the rain.."



I hate the way I sound.
I'm really a huge big nothing of a person. A pseudo-intellectual, a feelingless mime. A passionless shell. If I were to be stranded on an island, I'd be perfectly fine for days on end. I just cannot shake away this intense feeling of self-loathing that seeps into me at times.
I've started finding myself hot again. In the mirror.
A part of me - my brain - thinks that I'm the most pretentious thing ever to exist. More pretentious than.. what's the most pretentious thing?
I hate myself. It's true. But even that, I make it seem like it's somehow amazing.
Pretentious. My middle name.
Guess I'm going to marry a guy whose name starts with a P.
Paulo?
I want to marry an Italian. Or a Scotsman. Or someone else from any other racial stereotype that is associated with fiery passion and hot-blooded vivre. Maybe having all that passion directed towards me will divert my passionless self from my own inadequacies?
Passion. How I have trysted with that word these past two years.
I do not imbue passion, nor do I possess any.
Why must it matter so? So what if I do not have passion. I'm sure hundreds of scores of people exist in a similar state. 
But it does matter. It matters when those whom I would not have bothered with show more passion in their life than those whom I would have deemed as more worthy of my attentions. See. That was such a pretentious line. But I don't know how else to say it. There are people, whom I have thought of all along as mere mindless bubbles, who are efficiently etching out a life for themselves, filled with passion. Or whatever equivalent of passion they seem to enjoy. Why is it so hard for me, then? If I am as superiorly talented and blessed, why is it so hard for me to find passion? Is it because I dream too big? Is it because no passion is big enough for my dreams? Or are my dreams too whimsical for any kind of passion? Then again, what are my dreams? Are they flights of fancy that I habitually construct for momentary pleasure, or are they the burning desires that keep me awake at night? But ah. I have only heard of these burning desires. My burning desire might be to burn in the smoulder of another's passion. Maybe I was made to be a muse, and not a creator. Are muses passionate?
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16 comments:

  1. Philophobic29 March 2011 at 21:40

    I'm part Spanish.

    ReplyDelete
  2. The Girl With The Blue Earring29 March 2011 at 21:43

    Well that's interesting.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Philophobic29 March 2011 at 21:48

    Passion is another word for pheromones.

    ReplyDelete
  4. The Girl With The Blue Earring29 March 2011 at 21:51

    OHMYGOD STOP IT. I'm not talking about some oversexed adolescent male. This is a MAN I'm talking about. Take your stupid obnoxiousness ELSEWHERE.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Philophobic29 March 2011 at 21:55

    Oversexed adolescent males don't produce as many pheromones as full grown men.

    And this is not being obnoxious. This is being a smart ass. Like you. :]

    ReplyDelete
  6. The Girl With The Blue Earring29 March 2011 at 22:01

    *gasps*
    That was a snub!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Philophobic30 March 2011 at 15:50

    Yes it was. For ignoring the underhanded compliment on one of your previous posts and getting your Grammar Nazi on. And also for making assumptions.

    ReplyDelete
  8. The Girl With The Blue Earring30 March 2011 at 20:03

    What, that awesome thing? PLEASE. That was no compliment. Or maybe it was, but I couldn't sense it under your dripping self-importance.

    ReplyDelete
  9. The Girl With The Blue Earring30 March 2011 at 20:40

    You know, at this stage, I think I'll settle for the pheromones, even. Passion is passion, chemical or otherwise. I just want it.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Philophobic31 March 2011 at 13:54

    At least I own it. You have a whole blog devoted to it. It being self importance.

    And passion is like make up. To make up for what one lacks otherwise.

    ReplyDelete
  11. The Girl With The Blue Earring31 March 2011 at 19:23

    Um. That is the PURPOSE of having a blog.
    That was quite profound. I wanna be a make-up-plastic-clone-thing too. Only, deeper. Like Lady Gaga.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Philophobic31 March 2011 at 19:55

    Only if you want it to be, Blue.

    And Lady Gaga's fun. There, I said it.

    Also, I followed. Now be happy.

    ReplyDelete
  13. The Girl With The Blue Earring31 March 2011 at 21:13

    Lady Gaga is AMAZING. She is going to bring us all world peace.

    ReplyDelete
  14. Philophobic1 April 2011 at 21:09

    You know how people say that if you tell someone what you wished for, it won't come true?

    I wished for world peace once.


    Oops.

    ReplyDelete
  15. The Girl With The Blue Earring2 April 2011 at 02:49

    I know you did.
    But the way I see it, the more you say something out loud, the more you believe it; and the more you believe it, the more it might end up actually happening.

    ReplyDelete
  16. Philophobic2 April 2011 at 16:02

    "You are a good person.
    You are a good person.
    You are a good person.

    Say it enough times and it might just come true."

    ReplyDelete

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