Inter-constituency swimming meet today, particularly a waste of time because of the ss mock exam on monday, as well as a shitload of work to complete and a more colossal degree of revision to do. Managed to get a bronze for 50m breaststroke, and it was supposedly a tie with another guy but I don't know, I got the medal. But so what? Getting the medal wasn't a big deal for me, and it sure as hell didn't make me much happier than plunging in for 50 free and having my goggles come off like they did for school nats.
In fact, I can't remember the last time I was genuinely happy. Was it way back in Kunming? Or when I got 3rd placing for nanquan? Or probably even on my birthday. Does that really matter anyway, since I'm not in the best of spirits in my current situation?
I don't remember the last time I was sensitive towards the feelings of others, either. All I know is that I'm my first priority, and I don't know why. Quite possibly, my sensitivity for others had faded as an eventual response to the insensitivity others display. People move on with their lives, and I dare say those who were my friends are now the friends of others, and past strangers have become my friends. It's possibly correct to say that as people discard friendships as they grow older, they seek what seemingly appears to be more mature relationships, sometimes however oblivious that they hadn't strayed too far from the opposite. At the end of the day, you would have lost a friend or two, but gained half or one, because people think they get more sensitive towards others as they grow older, but oftentimes deviate from that expected course.
I often hear of a saying that goes, "Your greatest enemy is yourself." How often is that true? I've recently ascertained a part of myself that defends against anything and everything.
"Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player/ That struts and frets his hour upon the stage/ And then is heard no more."(Macbeth, Act V Scene V, Shakespeare)
I've found myself acting in front of others, a blatant fact that shows how much I disregard sensitivity, and I've even found my acting in front of myself. No, people don't know how abtruse it is to be true to yourself; I myself, for one, never knew that as well. I've realised how frightening it is to know that I lie even to myself. I've been through a phase; my younger days now stare back at me, my extroverted younger self blared his horns loud and clear -- then came the emotional unstability of my introverted teenagehood, afraid to display his ego, afraid to be misunderstood. Now I'm sick of it. Sick of being sensitive to myself, to others, and I guess I've sort of fallen into a rut of not caring much about how I feel anymore, that I've begun to lie. I guess I think too much, I've felt too much, and I sympathised too much. However, I'd be proud to tell myself that empathy is no longer in my books, and again I'd be lying to myself. I never knew it was so difficult. Difficult to read, defend, calm your own feelings, difficult to please others, and a whole lot more of stuff I haven't discovered. About myself.
Maybe I could stay undiscovered. Maybe I'd prefer it that way. Because again, it would be hellishly freaky to know too much about oneself, much more about others.
And it isn't really easy to confide in others as well. Sometimes you leave yourself wondering, what have I done? Being selfish in this manner won't ease your troubles, anyway, and the people you confide in may just be as insensitive as you are.
I'll stay undiscovered.
