The Good Margaritas

The Theory of Moral Sentiments

“The great source of both the misery and disorders of human life, seems to arise from over-rating the difference between one permanent situation and another.

Avarice over-rates the difference between poverty and riches: ambition, that between a private and a public station: vain-glory, that between obscurity and extensive reputation.

The person under the influence of any of those extravagant passions, is not only miserable in his actual situation, but is often disposed to disturb the peace of society, in order to arrive at that which he so foolishly admires.

The slightest observation, however, might satisfy him, that, in all the ordinary situations of human life, a well-disposed mind may be equally calm, equally cheerful, and equally contented.

Some of those situations may, no doubt, deserve to be preferred to others: but none of them can deserve to be pursued with that passionate ardour which drives us to violate the rules either of prudence or of justice; or to corrupt the future tranquillity of our minds, either by shame from the remembrance of our own folly, or by remorse from the horror of our own injustice.” 

 

Adam Smith

Walk with Thoreau #1

July 25. There is no remedy for love but to love more.

The hardest material obeys the same law with the most fluid. Trees are but rivers of sap and woody fibre flowing from the atmosphere and emptying into the earth by their trunks, as their roots flow upward to the surface. And in the heavens there are rivers of stars and milky ways. There are rivers of rock on the surface and rivers of ore in the bowels of the earth. And thoughts flow and circulate, and seasons lapse as tributaries of the current year.

Page 7. Age 20.

Habit

Lately my mornings start with work. Some mornings I have to drag myself up because after awhile, work is becoming… Work. So I switch things up a bit, have different breakfast, pack my schedule with activities, it was good while it lasts. Then today I decided to work out and NOT to start my day with work, but rather with going to the gym.

Then I realised, I’m just spoiled with options. I have no ability whatsoever to stick and presevere. So there goes the whole content of this blog: me wanting, me getting, me getting bored and me switching. That’s my habit.

Well here’s my new resolution: choose and stick with it.

Maybe I should try photography next week. I can be so annoying sometimes.

Things I missed

You know how you’re so sure about everything, even when you’re not? When you seems like you have the answer to just about every question, even when you don’t. I wish I have that here.

Careful where your lips land

I’ve been thinking a lot lately. Because I have more free time thanks to singlehood. I can’t say I don’t like it. But another problem arises: dating. I’m not very good at it. I’m the sort who knows who she likes and who she doesn’t like so decisions come easy.

But lately I’m in a shift where I don’t want to be tied down just yet, and I’ve been on good dates. Hence the conundrum, the shift is incongruous with everything I know about relationships. 

I hate to use the word ‘friendship’ because it’s almost like a blasphemy against the word itself. It’s devoid of emotion, or consciously voided or so when it rises, ardently denied with inconsequential made-up tales. 

How about companionship? Here’s something I have no experience in. No knowledge about. But google says it’s akin to comraderie or fellowship. I guess for that to happen, the two people must be on the same boat. Well… I’m the captain of my own (sic) ship. Or at least, M&A possibilities for the time being is off the table. 

I guess I can try to be casual about the situation and go with the flow. Assuming the other party is doing the same. We don’t have to talk about things, we’re cool like that. But who are we kidding? Time is precious and if we were to die tomorrow, do we want to spend the last moment with each other? Am I thinking too far?

So here’s the inconclusive conclusion: we should really drop the whole thing. Just quit. It hits me that that’s the first sign of emotion. I am swinging in the pendulum of hope and fear. Greater fear than hope honestly. You can’t go anywhere swinging sideways can you? In life, shouldn’t we strive to always go somewhere? Or is ‘destination’ simply a doctrine among many others? I believe it has been the most successful. 

As I imagined it would be, my entry is full of question marks. 

But as Arthur Schopenhauer, says, “The final aim of all love intrigues, be they comic or tragic, is really of more importance than all other ends in human life. What it all turns upon is nothing less than the composition of the next generation…. It is not the weal or woe of any one individual, but that of the human race to come, which is here at stake.”

So I can’t be overthinking this.

Castaway

The direct implication of a breakup is that awful feeling of being betrayed. Immediately you took up a guard and hide in your own isolation. Although you might be letting people in beneath your skin, you have a deep distrust that not even yourself could ever love you enough. Sooner or later, he will betray you again.

That’s why breakups are so shattering. Even the gentlest one is a violent blow. You discover that you have been neglecting your body because you didn’t take the ownership of it fully. You thought you shared that responsibility with your beloved. When it’s over, you’re left to rebuild your life allover again. Your dreams are in pieces. Your future is once again so completely open that you pity yourself for that lack of purpose.

The trap is to not mistake that longing with loneliness. Immediate separation will have a direct implication of retracting and holding onto what’s familiar: love, sense of belonging, faith and hope. So by no accident that one will be in a state of euphoria after battling through a stormy night. But before the sky clears up, humidity lingers in the air, wafting false hope. Sometimes it rains again.

My response was to sift through the debris, load off the water and examine the damage. One could get accustomed to even pain. When you see the sun, it might not immediately become clear that hope is an option. You could grief through the moment, for someone had indeed died. And an arduous task of rebuilding a ship is ahead of you. Though the sky is clear, the water is so deep the feeling of drowning is more tempting.

I wish I could understand what went wrong, and I wish I could come up with a foolproof formula to trust in life again. How could you ever love, despite the overflow evidence in your surroundings, if you know you could risk of being left again at exactly this empty state?

Which brings me to addiction. In the beginning, you ask yourself, basking in that false euphoric state of beauty, could it be that you’re so damaged that you’re addicted to that pain? Afterall, didn’t u contribute to the breakup? Didn’t you cause it? Wouldn’t you then seek another addiction? Couple that with the fear that no one could ever love you enough, and you will have an addiction to a superficial mask to get you through the day. Some resort to chemistry, some to biology. Some like me, to running. I want to jump ships. Saying goodbyes and leave whatever I have. Maybe drowning myself in the depth of the ocean and find another way to live.

But that same big hand that molds me and brought me to this point also forces me to stay and stand. And if the prospect of meeting reality is scary enough to start me tying my shoelaces and dash, that hand wants me to believe in hope again. I know it all too well. But how do you explain that you are suddenly afraid of everything? How do you repair a ship when all you have is a plank of wood?

It’s too brief and too long. I wonder if it was my mistake, did I push too hard or didn’t I try hard enough? I wonder what’s going on with your world. Are you alright, and are you sleeping alright? At this moment of quiet, I can’t silent my mind. It is loud where it should be still. And since it’s over, it’s been a thunderstorm.