Great Big Fish

The new day is a great big fish

Thank you, Terry Pratchett. Thank you, various humorous writers who make reading funny as heck, who make stories that make you pause and sit in silence and then laugh so hard when you remember a silly line. Thank you for the quotes, too, that make you think and in some obscure way give you motivation because they are just so catchy (and meaningful).

This won’t be a post about amazing writers so here goes:

The new day is a great big fish. It is some sort of proverb of the fictional land of Borogravia in the fictional land of Discworld born of the mind of the very real Terry Pratchett, that means something like the new day is full of opportunity. At this time of my life, I think it’s true. What will happen when I reach another ‘low point’ in life I won’t speculate, but right now not everything is fine and dandy, but a whole lot of it seem to have some shine at the end, so I’ll keep on working and looking and when you’re busy you’re usually not wont to despair at every little unfine bit. 

Not to say that I’m not happy. I’d rather be contented than be happy, because everyone’s got to come down sooner or later from the high. I am, for the lack of better words, at peace.

This is something to bump down that rather depressing stuff I posted last year, so, that’s it. I’ll sum it up with that emoticon thing that seems to me a little hopeful, a little peaceful, perhaps a little pained and a little well-meaning and very clueless:

: )

Half-Hearted Translation of Annoying Self-Doubt into Bloggable Text

What am I good at? Why must I be good at anything? Why do I set such high standards for myself, then repeatedly fail to reach them? Is this the product of too many childhood praises? Of slow, churning thoughts in the middle of the night, concocted in solitude and unchecked by the people who anchor everyone else to reality? Of ego and pride and stubbornness? The need for acknowledgement and recognition? The simple need to make something of life? Magic unicorns? 

Where are the dreams? Why are there dreams? What is the value of your dream, when pitted against the world? WE HAVE LOST SIGHT OF GOALS and hence, banged into the lamp post.

I have suspected for a long time that, under all my wit silliness and weirdness stupid stuff I spout that make people laugh craziness, I have nothing. No intelligence, no useful kind-heartedness, no ability to help others, nothing that allows me to advance myself in whatever social/academic/real life/*insert.. thing* setting that I find, and will eventually find, myself in. Sure I can doodle, sure I can rant. Sure this happened and that. But what about now? I do not draw well; I'll need to improve myself. I do not do well in academics; I should study more. I am not nice or helpful; I'll need to try and be. But to what end? Nothing is ever enough. There shouldn't be a question of 'was it/is it enough?' No one can have such an overblown ambition and be contented all their lives.

Hm. This self-doubting thing is such an annoying mess. I wonder why anyone wants to be friends/put up with me, dear readers. I wouldn't like myself. Maybe sometimes I am likable and ca make you ignore things that are more important. But I'm pretty sure, if I met 'someone who is like me' to have a nice relationship with, we'll hate each other, because someone who's like me wouldn't like to see him/herself in another person, doing stupid things over and over again, right before their eyes. 

I wouldn't need a stern word or kind words or a hug. I just need to tell myself to shut up and do things instead of whinewhinewhine and rantrantrant and complaincomplaincomplain. I just need to tell you what I feel, inform the world, inform everyone who reads, to know what sort of person I'm like so when they finally see it, they won't be disappointed. I don't like to be a disappointment. But maybe I already am.