A Year of Rants

Another fresh new year is here ...
Another year to live!
To banish worry, doubt, and fear,
To love and laugh and give!

This bright new year is given me,
To live each day with zest ...
To daily grow and try to be
My highest and my best!

I have the opportunity,
Once more to right some wrongs,
To pray for peace, to plant a tree,
And sing more joyful songs!
~William Arthur Ward

Sigh, if only I can be so carefree...

* * * * *

This is my 94-th post.

Twelve months ago, I started this blog in a nostalgic mood; today, I'm blogging away in a similar mood, only that this one is tinged more with a heavy sense of depression.

It has been a year of major changes. Nothing much has happened, actually. But those few incidents were more than enough to change my outlooks and drastically mould me into a person who is as yet, a stranger to my own self.

I used to be over-confident; taking things easy and never believed there's anything I couldn't achieve. But, failures are an inevitable part of life, I knew that. Nevertheless, there were blows that were hard to endure; more than once, I almost faltered. In the end, it was cowardice which ironically held me back. To certain people, they might have been a mere prick in the skin. However, that is a judgmental way to weigh the grief one is enduring. It is the coping resources that counts. When pain exceeds the resources for coping with it, things can end rather badly.

True friends are becoming hard to find. In fact, even my number of normal friends has diminished to a poor handful. When you're trying to get someone with whom there's mutual understanding and trust, it's even tougher. There're feelings that I have to confide; but I care not to reveal to anyone around me, knowing that there's this barrier that I've built by myself. There's tears that should have been shed without shame; but I just have to hold them back, telling myself I will not admit being weak. Hell, why can't I be less emotional?

Skimming through my past posts, I realise that most of them have been rather gloomy and they never run away from certain topics. Is it because I tend to blog more when I'm feeling upset or stressed? Or is it just plainly because I'm growing pessimistic? Instead of fantasising about the uncertain future based on flimsy hopes of the present, I simply prefer to focus on my pains. Sigh, I'm getting sick of myself for constantly fishing for sympathy... I'm almost certain that most people out there are shaking their heads and saying, "Not again."

To put it lamely, I am aware that I'm better off than many other people. Yet, I don't know why there isn't satisfaction in life. I'm just lack of inspiration and motivation.

Why is it that I still linger on past wounds? Perhaps, it's because there's nothing much to expect from the future.