Wrong philosophy

What’s so off?

It simply just kicked in this morning what was so off about my life. (Yes, this is another post discussing the endlessly confusing/messed up/chaotic/off balance/disharmonized life of moi)

Why is it that I always get the feeling that things are… off, that something’s not right, that… something is simply missing. It’s like as if I was on a scale and it’s entirely lumped towards one side, with me flying across the sky.

Wrong philosophy, wrong life. Every one of us, as we grow, as we become independent (not necessariy financially, I discovered, but in the person), the separation pain isn’t the only trouble, the question of having our own “right” philosophy about life, might be even more. Well, it’s not a question of whether this philosophy is right or wrong (damn, I sure definitely do more writing these days… @@), but more like whether this philosophy is the right one for me! Well, is it?

I’ve adopted a lot of my parents philosophies during my years as we lived intimately together (Well, pseudo-intimate). Over the past few years, they have been increasingly more… mm… demanding that I become… well… THEM.

(Little side note here. I think it’s splendid to be able to see the mistakes/faults of our parents, and I think I would be thrilled for my children if they do. Cuz, that means, at least, they’re gonna try not making the same mistakes, right? We cannot live life without making mistakes, but, we can hope others do not make the same. As well, I wouldn’t force them not to make mistakes or not to make what I think is mistakes because, well, we’re different individuals, they have their needs to stumble and fall ((I’m a cruel future parent, aren’t I?)). )

But their philosophies on life are NOT my philosophies on life. Their ways of living are NOT my ways of living. What they see/thinks of the world are NOT what I see and think of the world. Take for example… simply… MONEY. I don’t doubt its importance, really… And I don’t doubt to be able to make money if I want… but it seems like money is the only concern in my parents’ world. Of course, we could say that it’s cuz they don’t have money (we don’t have money, for the matter), however, worrying about not having something and making that worry the entire of your life doesn’t seem to make any sense to me. Ok, it’s a stated fact, then… well, see a problem, find a solution, the rest of the time? Enjoy life a little. My philosophy toward money had always been more like, “Money is the by-product” of having fun. I had this odd illusion that if you are doing something FUN and something EXCITING or something FASCINATING, you will eventually be able to make a living out of it. Take for example, all the great GEEKS in the world. I’ll bet you a taro bubble tea (something my pen pal came up with as a… mm… surprise prize?) that the Google guys started GOOGLE cuz it was FUN, not cuz it was a money machine (but we will never truly know either… )… Steve Chen did not start YouTube cuz he though, “Oh! Google will buy us out and make me super rich!”, but more because he thought, “Need some place to share this hilarious video with my friends.” Hemingway did not start writing thinking, “Damn, I gotta make super rich with my writing.” He prolly started writing as, “Can’t live without spitting these damned words (not that he would use this language).”

So there, you have it. Wrong philosophy, I end up chasing after something invisible that, well, honestly doesn’t make my life actually better. I mean, what’s the point of having a life if you can’t actually LIVE and ENJOY it?! Sure, money is important, but it’s also a set fact that once you know, you can just kinda live with it in the back of your head while you enjoy the various splendours of life.

I would seriously like to keep writing, keep painting, keep designing my oddities without thinking about how much they would earn me (some weird practice in the house is to wonder at how much I can earn with just about everything I do =.=). I mean, ever since there’s the talk that I can hopefully earn from my writings, I haven’t been really able to WRITE! That’s pathetically SAD cuz if I can’t WRITE, I feel like a corked up soda bottle on the edge of explosion with no exact remedy to fix the before or after of a busted bottle.

Good marves! What a revealation in the morning. And in this, I would say, special thx to a friend in Uni, someone I’ve lost contact (almost) with because of my stupid philosophies… but I think now, I honestly see what’s keeping you happy.