Of My Moleskine Notebook

It will dawn on you; to make your own decisions one day or another; to take action something purely critical of yourself; no matter how unamiable that action might be. Some may call this enlightenment of the consensus a somewhat enlightenment of self, or others may just call it pure destruction. The latter mode of reasoning owing to the fact that this course of cognition is likely taken in the early years of adolescence.

While not all decisions taken at this time are as volatile or perverse as the controversial adolescences taken by certain writers or philosophers, an empowerment to better the state that one is found to be in is ever apparent. In my point of view, as much as it opposes Kohlberg’s Theory of Moral Development (Conventional Stage, Stage 1), one gets selfish; whether out of rebellion or pure belief of good interest.

As I was having a conversation with a friend of mine (of whom I shall plug here), we had come to a realisation that the average age of this course is that about of fourteen. Notably, the denounciation of belief and the awakening of sexuality. For at thirteen; we are far too angsty and enraged by ourselves to actually do anything; and at fourteen; we start utilising fully internally the greatest gift of all; our ability to question.

That very charming friend and I agreed, that fourteen was an age of pure reckoning, when, the id reviews and questions; (though I might add) often cynically, about God, orientation, emotions, and how we relate to the world around us.

Questioning; is when we try to vindicate our relationship with the world. For our relationship with the world strengthens our understanding of our own being, our place in society, and pulls the curtain on what reason we wish to uphold in this arena.

I’m turning fifteen next week, and I’m glad I’ve gone this far without a haemorhage for Fourteen, was quite of a turbulent one though I must say, not my most turbulent of years. At twelve, At thirteen, I had been bombarded by questions by caring and affectionate people who had cared enough to take off the load off my 14 year old cognitive syllabus and help cram it in my thirteenth. Despite at thirteen I was in shreds, at fourteen I am starting to make peace with my own defects.

In conclusion, I had an intellectually stimulating, sometimes incredibly emotionally constipating, year which I have spent just trying to find odds with myself.

I have not denounced Jesus (not that I can seeing I’m not Jesuit or Catholic or in any sect of Christianity, or plan to jump off my boat), in the likes of Simone de Beauvoir or James Joyce or Brian Molko from Placebo, or lose my virginity to an adolescent my age and feigning excuse that I had a nosebleed instead about the blood stains on my sheets; but I have;in the slightest bit, simply; grown up.

A bit.

The human relationship is probably the world’s most fragile thing. Something completely unseen, metaphysical and obtuse. An existence that is not matter, something that cannot be chipped or pulled apart like an object with interlinking atoms; yet something impossible to define; a somewhat mutual understanding how to relate to others or lack of it.

How we relate to each other plays a big role in being humane. Humans are social creatures no matter what loners many of us might be. Our complicated minds with protruding emotions is what sets us aside from the other animals in the kingdom. Our ability to create or destroy beyond our own means, our ability to make decisions and define what is morally right or ethically sound; and our power of building cultures, languages, religion and beliefs.

We take this thing for granted. We take our connections to our parents and families; our friends and comrades; our hopefuls and hopeless; our loved and unloved; nothing but somewhat accidental happenings in a random and coincedental world. As from the very moment we are pushed into this world; bleeding and alone- we are obligated to have a dependant nature onto this activity of relating.

We depend on the bodies which called forth for our creation for food and drink; for love and understanding; and for the worldly gifts and needs that we are in need of. And we grow closer to them, we feed on their beliefs, and imitate their principles. More less those principles and beliefs, being good and universally true, are accepted into our grey matter and embedded for moral cognition.

As we grow older, we loosen those ties to our parents and latch our emotions on other individuals who we have not the relation of blood ties with. More or less, our parents too, yet discerning and half-heartedly, let us go slowly; and fully as we have fully matured as adults. We too, imitate their actions that precede our birth, we put trust into the hands of an excuse called Love, are probably bonded with a constituition that upholds Fidelity or defended by our ideals of co-habilitation; and soon the offspring come rolling around to continue this cycle.

Most of the time however, despite how much we try to deny it; none of us go unscathed. Our ever trying to adapt to accepting new emotions and reasons will stir us; and hurt us.

Hurt is no longer the breeching of trust, or the shaming and humiliation of confidence; hurt is a universal epidemic, crossing through all ties and constitutions. Marriage, family, love, friendship; as much as we all; the human race and its all, want these simple things and purely just that- we accept the fact that those things were made to be created; and occasionally, made to destroy; not because we are born sadistic or anything of that mean sort, but because we are only humane, but because we are imperfect; and obliged to sometimes give in to our inner demons.

Emotion, and desire is no-longer and probably was never a clean cut thing. Ruling out emotion as a monosyllabic word such as happy or sad is condensing and a near impossible thing to fulfil the truth. Such words only mean anything to children with colouring books.

Psycho-analysts with their text-books use take this opportunity to express their frustration in definition. Freud for one, penned a perfect disaster; The Oedipus Complex. Piaget studied the way children developed and reacted to controlled stimuli around them. Kohlberg studied Moral Cognition.

And simply and generally, defining human relation and emotion is one ludicrously tedious thing. And this all comes down to the simple existence of relation. A beautiful and disastrous thing; the building blocks of life; the volatile and acerbic after effect; of when Adam met Eve.

I love him but have no absolute carnal desire whatsoever for him, atleast not anymore. He cannot be a friend, or a lover, neither a brother or anything above, between or before. I feel no complete or fleeting want; this being not infatuation and as he stands as not an object of limerence.

But God knows, out of all these confusing and peaceful conflicts between stereotyped and textbook-proven emotions; I love and truly adore that boy.

Hello all! I know I know, I’ve not posted anything for an age, and I know I should put up a picture and change my layout. I will, really.

I had a tiring week, with the workload and jet lag and all, and I couldn’t possibly think of anything interesting to say. Or I’m probably just too lazy to say anything. Haha.

I arrived here last Sunday evening, and the thing about jet lag is that you happen to be awake at hours normal people are asleep and as for a result you are alone in your plight for sleep or for amusing oneself. Jet lag in my case means tossing and turning all night, not being able to lull myself to slumber and thinking about big things you should not think about when you’re quite unstable at the moment unless you want to get a scorched cranium or induce manic worry onto yourself. Thus in the past years, I end up crying, getting a blocked nosed and being completely emotionally unstable.

This trip however, I tried (or still am trying) something slightly more different. Sleep as late as you want and drink lots of water. And it actually works, though I end up sleeping really late so it makes no difference anyway. Ha-ha.

On the sunday I arrived itself I started work on my homework, (called up Farhanis) though I did not finish it (I’m redoing it, long story), doing something productive is much better than torturously trying to induce sleep that ain’t working.

I also read a sleep related article in The Guardian, how that it doesn’t matter in what hours you sleep(afternoon or night or whatever), as long as you get enough hours of sleep. Meaning sleeping 5 hours at night and sleeping two hours in the afternoon. You just need enough hours of sleep a day, and not at night.

I guess I can quite agree with this. As I do know people who sleep in the afternoon until about 9p.m. at night, and stay awake all through the night to study, until the afternoon the next day. Though if you think about it, this is a whole other story coz this is just defying the body clock.

Though I realised, no matter how much I sleep at night, I can’t help but lull myself to sleep in the afternoons. Which is bad because I end up sleeping and not doing my homework, and night isnt really a condusive time to be studying (atleast for me, due to the fact that everyone only comes online at night and tv is better).

Now I’ve got to go. I’ve been procrastinating sleep long enough.