Saturday, December 11, 2004

dangerous expectations.

Tsk tsk. That stupid bloke.

That aside, I love this picture. It's self-explanatory.

It got me thinking about expectations as a whole, and I wish I didn't expect anything from anyone. And that no one expects anything of me.

Even more so, I wish I didn't expect anything from myself.

You know how it is, the list is endless. Such as an expected 1.1 for my degree, playing the piano 'well' (a point to be debated upon), being a 'nice' person, always having a plastered grin on my face... Whatever.

To expect something from someone, is to set yourself up for inevitable disappointment. For none of us can ever, truly, be completely satisfied. And our standards are set even higher for our close friends and loved ones. Sort of: affection/love and expectations being directly proportional to each other.

[Just think about all the times you've been stewing over simply because you felt someone else SHOULD have done this, or said that? Just because you would do the same thing in their position, doesn't mean that they would react the same way as you do.]

Then again, we expatiate on others' shortcomings but we're compulsively blind to our own. Expectations of us are unfulfilled as our exclusive egos compel us instinctively to put Self before Others.

i.e. I cover my own arse and to hell with everything else.

Thing is, I hate having unconsciously set expectations of other people. I don't want to, but I do. It's annoying. It's even worse when the spotlight falls on you. I feel like I'm being sentenced and judged in a court without any hearing whatsoever. Except I'm guilty. Tit for tat.

Maybe, just maybe, there'll come a day where we'll learn not to set any yardsticks for anyone. Just drop it. Then we'd be free of all preconceived notions, and just live, and accept one another for who we are.

Especially ourselves.

she procrastinated @ 03:56 |

blueprint

I will like to spend my days, as though they are my own, which I mostly end up doing in halves, for duty beckons, and I am answering its clarion call. Soon enough! I am also a veteran procrastinator.

fresh monodies

imaginative, idiomatic and inventive.
Didn't go to Dpt Party, feeling a lil' under the w...
baffling sights.
Extracted from A Dream PlayThe song of the windsEa...
aching forearms.
Is there anything that is more moving and evocativ...
incredulous.
If only...
you know who you are.
bring on the candy, cake and chocolate.

previous rants

August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
November 2010
January 2011
February 2011
August 2011
October 2011
May 2013

treatises on life

arty jen
betty boop
carmentica
charming-linn
chasing snowy cars
cheeky lynn
cheryliciously glam
clean and cute
cyclist-mad bass
darling dominic
feisty jing
fellow ditz-sista/porkSTAR
hail mary!
hell's kitchen
hero on the beach
h-Euge heart
hunky lenny
lipgloss queen
little cheryl
live n learn, baby
lolita lou
loony loon
mr popular
musically dan
m y s t j
phringe
princess tania
roger smurf
runaway pigeon
sabotage king jeremiah
sibling angst1
sibling angst2
spector dan
spunky tian
steffy bunny
sun-sunzzz
teeny wee-nee
weeeee, leonard!
yangtze yang'en

frivolous pursuits

for shallow ppl
for very geeky ppl
for the truly bored
spun prose
binary thoughts
past imprints
some stamps
montage of images
other memories

mulling over

"One is wicked, because one see things clearly." - Beaumarchais's Le nozze di Figaro.

And there were phlegmatic souls.