Conflicts

There are a lot many questions I don't have answers to, and they just keep getting tougher all the time. Life, meanwhile, is keen on continuing to slip out of my hands. A part of me knows it is inevitable; I guess I had grabbed a lot of it in my little hands in my greed and none of it could stay anyway. Another part of me doesn't even want to try to stop it from happening, for it knows what goes was really never mine, so it wants me to wait till I'm left with zilch and then decide where to. The third part, however, wails, not cries. In pain and in hurt. In desire and frustration. In self-contempt. In the heat of questions I can't answer.

But while I leave the tripartite self to fight-all-and-kill-all with remarkable indifference, conflicts ensue at level two, where wishes fight needs, have-to's fight want-to's, and shoulds fight what-if's. Even that is eternal anyway, omnipresent and inevitable, but you know what is the most humbling at the end of the day: I'm only human, an imperfect human being. I'm only so much and no more. Much as long long ago, friends (like him) and not-really-friends used to speculate about there being at least two of me existing, the fact remains I am just one (or even less than one perhaps), I am just me, and both wishes and obligations continuously force me to exist at more than one place at the same time, while practicality reminds me it's all the same space-time frame. In other words, I realise again and this time to much greater agony than ever before, and conufsed, whose reading I trust better than most others agrees, that I try to please too many people at the same time, and end up pleasing no one at all. And thus, against my wishes, I end up being unfair to everyone...my caring friends, a loving family, a supportive patient boyfriend, and above all myself. Not surprisingly, the time had come when I start losing them one by one. Beginning with myself. Everyone has a limit anyway, and they are perfectly reasonable in feeling wronged and unloved. It's only life that is not reasonable. It's only me who is causing all the pain, to everyone. Whims don't come true, and I have earned a strange contempt for the have-to's and practicalities of life. My conscience puts me on trial all the time, for life has become a trade-off of two clashing principles, both that I wanna adopt.

Too many people on one of the inner circles, perhaps. Time to push everyone out? Oh yeah, because it's either this, or the other option of life snatching them away anyway with far more bitterness. Most have a shelf life nearing expiry anyway.

Go away. I don't care for anyone anymore. Or so I wish to say.

I wish I could stay alone and do nothing. But there are exams to give.