I finally have some time to catch up on my blogroll. The hiatus has given me a fresh perspective on the blogs that I read, and I’m starting to understand why I actually read them in the first place. Most authors are just plain interesting, and their blogs offer a glimpse into the lives of people with distinct personalities. The most interesting ones are by intelligent people with lifestyles I’ve never been through. However, there’s a fair share of authors whose lives are so sad that they’re amusing, and their blogs are so pathetic that they’re humorous. These are the people who write because they think they’re important, and fill their entries with the most trite, sequacious crap.

And it’s made me wonder, especially after having reached an average of 200 daily visits last month, which of the two types this blog fits into for other people when they read.

I have learned to walk: since then I have run. I have learned to fly, since then I do not have to be pushed in order to move.

Now I am nimble, now I fly, now I see myself under myself, now a god dances within me.

—Of Reading And Writing, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

A long time ago, maybe almost ten years ago, I met a guy who was the same age as me named Alvin. We got along extremely well, which was a rarity for me at the time. He was a complete enigma. There was always an air about him, something in his stable demeanor, that told me he had everything figured out. I asked him once, “Do you feel any pain?”. “Only when I want to”, was his response. I couldn’t possibly understand.

How can I describe this feeling? How can I explain? I’ve been looking for the right words for so long, but nothing comes through. Only images and ideas. Thoughts without expression.

All I know is that it feels like I’ve arrived at something, like I’ve finally come to a point where I’m comfortable with myself. Where I can hurt without being sad. Where I can love without pain.

The key is understanding how dissatisfaction breeds improvement, how pain breeds happiness, how there must be a balance of good and bad, and living by these beliefs with committed industry and absolute humility. It’s what Taoists express as Yin and Yang, what Nietzsche was saying through Zarathustra. And when one’s life goal is self-improvement, everything falls into place.

Now there is no going back. Now I truly feel like I’m alive.

Now a god dances within me.

Andrew and Alex are going on a backpacking trip to Europe until the end of this month. They’ve requested a list of people interested in receiving information and details about their trip, so naturally I let them know that I’d like to have some documentation during their journey.

And while I understand their motivations for trying to have such an inter-personal correspondence, I don’t understand why it has to be because of a trip.

Isn’t everyday life interesting enough to talk about? Can’t one learn as much on the bus ride to work as being some place completely foreign? I never decided to make an extra blog or something for my trip to Hong Kong/China/Macau, even though it was still a somewhat life-changing event. To me, the month was another part of my schedule, something I had planned to do. It was as significant as anything else going on in my life, or maybe I should say, anything else going on in my life was as significant as that. I hope I never have to rely on travel to consider my life important enough to discuss with someone.

Perhaps, I feel like I still have so much to learn about everything else that I would gain as much just thinking in the shower as I would being exposed to new things. Every day can be exciting. Every second, there’s a chance to learn and grow. There are still so many things to figure out.

And I probably consider myself to be one of the biggest.

I feel like speaking tonight. I feel like expressing myself in some way, but can’t focus on what I want to say. I feel like I’m totally addicted. I feel like sharing something that’s completely embarrassing, like the face trace trick or the wing chun dream.

I feel like singing. I feel like shouting. I feel like everything is just right.

I feel like I finally have people I can hang out with. I feel like I’ve finally had a meaningful relationship.

I feel like I can dream without disappointment. I feel like I can think without hurting. I feel like I can admire without jealousy.

I feel like every song is the last I’ll ever hear. I feel like I’m finally living.

I feel happy.

What do I have left to do today? I’m not really sure. I’ll roll my frozen chocolate mixture into truffles tomorrow. I should shower tonight. Fold up some clothes. Throw expired transfers in the garbage.

Sometimes it feels as if my life has become simple, and all I have to do is turn on auto-pilot. I don’t really have anything to worry about. Money, companionship, school, health, everything I used to think about constantly before have all ceased to be problems for me. I even have people that I would consider friends.

Lately it feels as if I’ve reached a sort of equilibrium, where anything can happen but I’ll be able to deal with any problems that arise. This is quite a change from before, where I was always worrying, turning over in my head the things that bothered me.

It’s almost a form of complacency. However, this is a sense of total complacency, unlike even my previous complacent feelings. I’m unsure of whether or not this is a temporary thing, and how long it will last if this is true. Being complacent means that the excitement I used to feel, from the struggle to control undesirable emotions, to the nervousness associated to attraction, to the simple uncertainty of passing a course, has mostly leveled out. These were all scary things, but exhilarating nonetheless. This complacency is different from feeling numb because it’s on a different level. Numbness deals more specifically with emotion, whereas complacency refers to life in general, including emotion. This means that complacency is not necessarily a bad thing.

I’m just not sure what to make of it as of yet.