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Just watched Sherlock Holmes. It was a pretty good movie, with plenty of nice British humour. Jude Law was awesome as Watson, and Robert Downey Jr was very convincing as Holmes, full of lovable flaws. The movie was good, but solving mysteries is not good for my emotional state of mind. I'm thinking too much, and this post is the result of that. Maybe I'd wake up in the morning and regret whatever I am about to say here. Most probably would, but I have to say this. In this moment of clarity and understanding, I'd be a fool if I ignored the answer and continued to delude myself. There needs to be a limit to my childish whims, and I think this will become a reminder in times of doubt.

I shall not make the same mistake again. I was foolish to think that I could trust you, that I could believe in you. False god you are, and I was a fool for ignoring this. It is no one's fault but my own, and I will not pretend that I was enlightened. You did not betray me; I dug my own grave, thinking that I could find some way to a better world through you. I'm a fool, so many times over for not opening my eyes to see the truth. People tell me that the lack of intention is reason enough to walk the path, but I know, and we all know, deep down inside, that the lack of intention is THE reason to abandon the path. Why love a god who loves me not? Why do I even label you as god? Self-delusion, a hundred times over. Creating my own fantasy, I am such a fool! I sought comfort in one who had none to give. Sought reassurance in one who had none to give. Trying to escape my delusion and depression by falling into greater delusion and greater depression. Talking to you when I am depressed just makes me more depressed. Seeing your uncaring face when I need love just makes me more hurt. I must be a closet masochist. You just give me pain and take my energy. A give-and-take relationship indeed.

Enough. I am not a child to throw mindless tantrums when I realise that I am in the wrong. I don't like hurting myself. I can bear the pinpricks to avoid getting grinded. Sever the cord. Sever the pain. If I repeat this again I'd be copying Eliot's Murder in the Cathedral. I feel like I'm being used, being betrayed, and I happily allowed myself to be led to the slaughter house. Partially my fault for not resisting. Delusions, like I said. Dreaming of a place much better than that which I live in. Tempted by the sugar cubes on the way to the slaughter house, like Muriel and ribbons and sugar cubes. I'm not a goat.

I have always been pretty good at reading people's faces. I learnt this from reading the face of someone inscrutable to most of the human race. I can read the little nuances, when you get irritated, happy, puzzled, sad and angry. I know of more complex emotions that would need more than a word to describe. I can see it all, no matter how many times you try to hide it behind those rapidly blinking eyes and mock poker face. You know you can't win against me, but you can't really shoot me down, so you just stick to one point and insist upon it, like some child who insists on having sweets before a meal. It doesn't work. It only makes me irrtated, and your lack of regard for my opinion makes me want to wring your neck or slam your head against some hard surface in the hopes of knocking some sense into that thick skull of yours. Yes, I have violent tendencies. Pent up aggression that has no way to go but to dig deeper inside. Hoarding anger, as if it was something precious is not the way to go. I hate myself for being unable to express my anger, because I'm afraid of losing the people I want to love.

I guess I should give up on one-sided relationships. It takes up so much time and effort, and bears no fruit whatsoever. So many people that I cherish, only to find out that I don't matter enough to them. So many people that I value, only to find out that I'm almost worthless to them. Just another passer-by in their life. I should stop working on these people. Yeah, some will tell me that I'd regress into a loner like this. But I wonder, is it truly worth it? At the end of the day, when you die, you'd still be a pile of dust, all alone in your little jar on the shelf somewhere. Depressing? Its the truth. I believe in instant gratification, as in the long run, we'd all be dead. Some really smart Economics people came up with this saying, which I think is amazingly accurate. In another 60 years or so, most of us who are alive on this planet, as of this moment, would be dead.

I wonder if I'll look at this in a few years and wonder why I'm so jaded even though I've seen less than two decades of human life, most of it spent in a blur of growing up. Or maybe I'd think I was ridiculously childish to think that I had understood life after experiencing so little. Hmm, it would be interesting to know I how I would behave.

" I don't need the people I hate to cut me to pieces. The people I love are already doing an excellent job."