Thursday, March 13, 2014

Playlist | Inconsequential Ranting

Hey readers! 

I apologise I haven't blogged in a horribly long time. Um but I haven't returned with any photoshoots either (not that it matters all that crucially). I get kind of rant-y whenever I blog, like it's just my babble and stuff so just take it as if I'm ranting to you. Well, how has life been to you lately? I've had a pretty conflicting week so far, but it's been interesting and thought-provoking. But my conclusions are as thus far: I need to decide who I am. 

No one's perfect, but still, I consider it relatively astonishing that after 18 years of my life I've yet to resolve my identity. Sure, I can always go back to the root of it all: child of God, loved and cherished by Him, yet something has yet to click in between to bridge my identity gap. Sometimes, I don't even think I know myself very well at all, and I'd like to just take someone who might somehow know me from the inside out to tell me what I'm like or who I am. You know, something to define me. I've got a deficit - a lack of a dream, passion and drive; I witness these values in the least expected places/people, where so unsuspectingly, the unobserved success stories slip past.

I've been thinking. I've been relative, not absolute. Well, not in my moral system (it must stay intact), but in terms of my passion and drive. Be it in dance, music or fashion, I can't cleanly say that none of them have been tinted and tainted with the desire to be recognised by others. Well, recognition is not exclusive to our affection for our sport, but the question I've been bouncing off the walls of mind is this: without the applause, without the acknowledgment, would you still do it? Would you still continue with this thing you call your passion and your love? That, for me, is where someone's drive lies: it's intrinsic. It's absolute instead of relative to let's say, other's persuasion or dissuasion. But what if my very passion is aggrandised by the salute received? Perhaps none of those three things are my root passion; rather, they are mere manifestations symptomatic of my root passion - the sprouts of my buried genesis. Even as I pen this (or rather jab at the keyboard), I think I've just been reminded that my root passion could actually be the love of performing. 

And that comes with its horde of concerns and considerations.

How do I even begin to dissect that???

For now, I think I think too much; raising way too many questions with too few answers. [Disclaimer: I love to play with my words, it does not always mean that I'm convoluting my thinking.]

Meanwhile, enjoy some music from my playlist, aptly titled 'Thingamajigs I Hope I Do Not Get Sick Of' //

I sound so unsure of myself right now. 
As is captioned for this picture below: I miss clear skies, I miss definition, and I miss surefooted-ness | caught up in the grey areas I refused to step foot in at the start.

On a side note, I tried to write with a little more care and standard. Been inspired by a certain blog written by someone of my age. And lately I've been writing another song. Hm. 

Much Love, 

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