Journey to El Dorado...

In between infantile esotropia, convergence excess and amblyopia, I need a pit stop to recover and breathe. To be just me with my thoughts, not related to work nor medicine.

Sometimes I have that sudden urge to blurt it out, to unleash that pent up emotion, to release what is embedded deep inside. Before it starts to rot, or become a gangrene that eats me from within.

Sometimes I have that train of thoughts, words that race through my mind like the bullet train, things that sometimes do not make sense, that does not connect, movie-like images in my mind just like when you are reading a story book and the characters start to come alive in your head, where your heart race when the hero goes to battle, and your tears fall as the heroine cries mending her wounded soul.

Sometimes, I just feel like writing…

I do not regard myself as a super duper intelligent person. I am just ordinary, but blessed with a not so ordinary job. Nevertheless, one needs to have a certain level of intelligence, to be good at what I do.

I am sure many would envy with what I have, with all the things that I am very grateful of. I may have excelled in an area, but failed miserably in another. That is in relationships.

Practice creates familiarity, skill, and eventually, perfection. In all… almost, all relationships that I had, it had been me who uttered the word no, who gave the final words, who executed the final verdict. After a few, I guess I was getting good at it.

Am I afraid of commitments? Am I living in an idealistic, fantasy world where the guy never smoke nor stray, and does not mind trading the apron and mop once in a while, and does not give a damn if I have hirsutism, or that I’d rather watch Malaysian Idol than entertain him in bed?

For each wall that crumbled, I rebuilt a stronger fort. Perhaps as a defense mechanism, in case of another attack to my soul. I am just afraid that one day, the wall will be too sturdy, and I will end up trapping myself from within.

Am I happy? Happy is so objective. There are certain things that will definitely make me happy… a new car, a house with koi pond, a job that pays well, a heartfelt movie, passing my exams…. among other things. But will having a relationship make me happy? Marriage? Kids? I honestly don’t know. Perhaps, I am too self-absorbed, too selfish. Perhaps, I just don’t care anymore.

Mistakes are made to be learnt. But making the same mistake over and over again showed that maybe I had been ignorant, or careless, or gullible? Wanting something too much is never healthy, even if the thing that you desire is good.

The whole experience was a whirlwind journey, a roller-coaster ride. Do I have any regrets? Possibly. But I shalt not stop now. There are still miles and miles to go, in my voyage of self-discovery, in the relentless search of the ultimate happiness.

Now…. back to essential infantile esotropia… bleerrgghhhhh!!