So, you've found yourself in this blog. Allow me to welcome you to this newly-born blog with the first post.
You may be wondering, "What is this blog all about?". Well, the answer may not really surprise you.
Simply put; I'm writing out my frustrations.
Frustrations at many, many things what pretty much accumulated into my current situation, which is me being 32 this coming month of August and I'm still single.
Ah, the age-old question of single-men not finding love, not being attractive enough, not being confident enough, not being this, not being that. But I did not start writing this post without doing "prior research", which pretty much comes down to the standard keywords of "30 and still single", "Why can't I find love?", "Will I ever find love?", either the combination of which and/or much more keywords of that very nature.
I'm rambling now, and I something do that even in writing/typing.
What should I start with?
I know; my self-introduction. I'm a 31, soon to be 32, year-old Chinese, Singaporean male and have been living in the small multi-racial island-country since I was born. Known to friends, colleagues, and associates to be of better-than-average articulation of the English language, humorous and quick-witted though sometimes I can miss the signals of doing too much, considered by the society and working community to be of a barely average educational background with just a tertiary diploma; pretty much incapable of even getting into a part-time degree programme, just to name some of the many highlights in my life.
And as mentioned previously, I want to vent my frustrations at life in general, and with a more notable focus on my non-existent love-life as well.
As I am writing/typing all these down, I once again feel the dark, cold, and hollow feeling in my heart. This kind of feeling is something that regular folks are unlikely to ever experience in its entirety, and ever in their lives. If this part of the paragraph comes across harsh rude, it should.
I am not pulling my punches in this post and for most of you folks, I can say with absolute certainty, confidence, and more importantly, honesty, that you all deserve this imaginary textual-based punch to your face.
I hate you for being that classmate, that constantly poked and prodded me in class, picking on me due to your twisted notion of bullying.
I hate you for ganging up with the class and hunted me down during recess, thrown me into the mud and laughed at me despite me having done nothing to you or anyone to remotely deserve it.
I hate you for taking advantage of my sincerity to helping you, only to handle the bulk of the project while you take the credit.
I hate you for taking that dream job I have so earnestly worked for, only to be rejected without any much of an explanation and seeing you climb that incredible career journey.
I hate you for taking my heart with your beauty and day after day, rejecting my advances to know you and hoping our relationship may blossom into something more than just "someone I know". My attempts to talk to you is met with silence and rejections.
I hate you for demanding answers as I desperately looked for jobs, but you constantly belittling me despite no relevant knowledge and experience.
I hate that when I wish to be part of the group, that I wish to be more than I can, but you simply brushed aside the idea stating that "I'll think about it."
I'm not stupid. I'll admit that I am not all that bright either. But as much as I hate you, I can never bring myself to hurt you. Maybe it's because I'm weak, stupid, naive, gullible, or much more, but I have to be true to my heart.
I want to love. I want to find someone to love. I want something to see me what I am inside; a heavily-scarred person that still cannot understand why people would want to hurt me, but I try to forgive and forget.
I really do want to try to do that; to only be told by those very old classmates that 'attacked' me during the old school days, that they still do not know why they did what they did. That a single SMS message explaining that despite my many attempts to get to know you better, and that you have said nothing to rebuff my approaches, and then when you finally left defending your stance that you have been 'hinting' that you are no longer interested and that you are doing all this to just respect your religious faith. That despite my working experiences and credentials, I still could not get into the company that I have worked so fervently for, for 7 years.
I'll be 32 in about 2-3 weeks.
I am writing my broken heart here, for the cold and harsh Internet to tear apart, piss on, spit at, and ridicule me wearing my heart on my sleeve.
I am writing my broken heart here, for the world of new love-birds, steady couples, and married families to see and compare, that they are assured that they are better than me, and I will be one of the many examples they will tell your offsprings to not become.
I am pouring the blood from my veins onto the post, the powerful loneliness from the isolation from even my own family members.
As one of the classic Queens' songs lyrics sings, "Can anybody find me, somebody, to love".
It is now 11 pm as I reach this line, and I shall leave it here.
My name is Morris, and I am sad.
Good night.
You may be wondering, "What is this blog all about?". Well, the answer may not really surprise you.
Simply put; I'm writing out my frustrations.
Frustrations at many, many things what pretty much accumulated into my current situation, which is me being 32 this coming month of August and I'm still single.
Ah, the age-old question of single-men not finding love, not being attractive enough, not being confident enough, not being this, not being that. But I did not start writing this post without doing "prior research", which pretty much comes down to the standard keywords of "30 and still single", "Why can't I find love?", "Will I ever find love?", either the combination of which and/or much more keywords of that very nature.
I'm rambling now, and I something do that even in writing/typing.
What should I start with?
I know; my self-introduction. I'm a 31, soon to be 32, year-old Chinese, Singaporean male and have been living in the small multi-racial island-country since I was born. Known to friends, colleagues, and associates to be of better-than-average articulation of the English language, humorous and quick-witted though sometimes I can miss the signals of doing too much, considered by the society and working community to be of a barely average educational background with just a tertiary diploma; pretty much incapable of even getting into a part-time degree programme, just to name some of the many highlights in my life.
And as mentioned previously, I want to vent my frustrations at life in general, and with a more notable focus on my non-existent love-life as well.
As I am writing/typing all these down, I once again feel the dark, cold, and hollow feeling in my heart. This kind of feeling is something that regular folks are unlikely to ever experience in its entirety, and ever in their lives. If this part of the paragraph comes across harsh rude, it should.
I am not pulling my punches in this post and for most of you folks, I can say with absolute certainty, confidence, and more importantly, honesty, that you all deserve this imaginary textual-based punch to your face.
I hate you for being that classmate, that constantly poked and prodded me in class, picking on me due to your twisted notion of bullying.
I hate you for ganging up with the class and hunted me down during recess, thrown me into the mud and laughed at me despite me having done nothing to you or anyone to remotely deserve it.
I hate you for taking advantage of my sincerity to helping you, only to handle the bulk of the project while you take the credit.
I hate you for taking that dream job I have so earnestly worked for, only to be rejected without any much of an explanation and seeing you climb that incredible career journey.
I hate you for taking my heart with your beauty and day after day, rejecting my advances to know you and hoping our relationship may blossom into something more than just "someone I know". My attempts to talk to you is met with silence and rejections.
I hate you for demanding answers as I desperately looked for jobs, but you constantly belittling me despite no relevant knowledge and experience.
I hate that when I wish to be part of the group, that I wish to be more than I can, but you simply brushed aside the idea stating that "I'll think about it."
I'm not stupid. I'll admit that I am not all that bright either. But as much as I hate you, I can never bring myself to hurt you. Maybe it's because I'm weak, stupid, naive, gullible, or much more, but I have to be true to my heart.
I want to love. I want to find someone to love. I want something to see me what I am inside; a heavily-scarred person that still cannot understand why people would want to hurt me, but I try to forgive and forget.
I really do want to try to do that; to only be told by those very old classmates that 'attacked' me during the old school days, that they still do not know why they did what they did. That a single SMS message explaining that despite my many attempts to get to know you better, and that you have said nothing to rebuff my approaches, and then when you finally left defending your stance that you have been 'hinting' that you are no longer interested and that you are doing all this to just respect your religious faith. That despite my working experiences and credentials, I still could not get into the company that I have worked so fervently for, for 7 years.
I'll be 32 in about 2-3 weeks.
I am writing my broken heart here, for the cold and harsh Internet to tear apart, piss on, spit at, and ridicule me wearing my heart on my sleeve.
I am writing my broken heart here, for the world of new love-birds, steady couples, and married families to see and compare, that they are assured that they are better than me, and I will be one of the many examples they will tell your offsprings to not become.
I am pouring the blood from my veins onto the post, the powerful loneliness from the isolation from even my own family members.
As one of the classic Queens' songs lyrics sings, "Can anybody find me, somebody, to love".
It is now 11 pm as I reach this line, and I shall leave it here.
My name is Morris, and I am sad.
Good night.
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