it's really funny. i was reading a blog post from back in january, about how this blog is an amalgamation of all my thoughts/feelings/misadventures. 

if that is true, boy have i changed. those of you who follow me on twitter are probably aware of my recent existential dilemma (although that is a rather grand term). well. it's more like a quarter-life crisis that has arrived prematurely. unless i HAVE indeed reached the quarter mark, in which case maybe god's trying to tell me i'll die at 72 (touch wood). 

i've been spiralling out of control, abandoning my studies, and throwing caution to the wind.

i used to remember whining about my mind-numbingly boring life. i always loved the now-famous quote, "colour my life with the chaos of trouble". I always thought that if i ever had to tell my children the story of my youth, my straitlaced days would perhaps make for the most boring recount of the most boring teenage life ever.

so i took on the task of revving up the "chaos" and "trouble" in my life. it was especially easy achieving that since i'm not under any parental supervision here in melbourne.

(NOTE: i am not referring to drugs or smoking. i never have and never will start smoking or doing drugs. i do drink though.)

so anyway, i got to melbourne, and started, shall we say, living life in the fast lane?

i jumped at every and any opportunity to find true love, hoping i'd have some 'Great Gatsby -esque' sweeping love affair to mark my days with. i filled my weekends with activities that would scream "trouble", such as clubbing and drug-tainted house parties (where SOME of the people did drugs, NOT ALL). i made and lost many fast friends. i caused trouble between acquaintances. i did things i'm not proud of. i opened my heart to anyone who seemed decent, in an effort to maybe find my Heathcliff [please go read wuthering heights if you haven't].


it is important to note that i never did any of the above INTENTIONALLY. shit just happens.

and guess what? (yes, i have noticed my penchant for brackets and rhetorical questions)

my life is still a blur. except it's much worse. before, it was an innocent pastel portrait, wholesome and safe. 

it was boring but there were the occasional special memories, one of which was the MCP steamboat, another the days of studying at BPP's MacD's and taking bus 171 home, using the half-hour journey to reflect on how boring my life was. these memories were special. they were sparklers, flames of friendship streaking my world with that familiar yellow of warmth.

now, all i recall of my life here are lights. bright, glittering, shimmering, iridescent, flashing lights. Lights of all shapes and colours, running ribbons across my eyes, making a mad dash for nowhere, tearing through the black. they swirl and preen and are drunk with no purpose. my eyes burn, my head hammers, and my stomach churns.

it's been a revolving door of velvet ropes, friends, enemies, scenes, parties, enemy lines shifting, more friends, not-quite-there Jay Gatsbys and heartbreakingly real mirages of Heathcliff.

where my life before was a pastel painting, here it's a violent clashing of rainbow colours across a smoke-laced nightscape. things haven't changed. everything is still a blur. except here, in melbourne, special memories fade. they're replaced with new names and faces at an alarming rate, names and faces that i continually pray to be special despite my knowledge that they won't ever be. my mind and heart is inundated with so much more than i can handle, on a weekly basis. my reputation has taking a beating so severe i doubt its ability to ever stand again. 

before, the yellow sparks were remembered. they were streaks of special in my life. now i can't really see them anymore. they're lost in this kaleidoscopic riot of colours. 

nothing's changed, other than the sad fact that now, instead of telling my children my life was a blur of boring made fun by MCP and some other folks, 

i'll have to tell them my life was a blur of deep and meaningless.