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Warning: This blog does not cater to your whims. If you are offended, then I am not obliged to care. It ain't personal until otherwise stated.

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Friday, March 10, 2006

Thriving in personal chaos!

If there’s one thing that agitates me above all fuck ups, it’s my personal fuck ups, instigated by my very own flaws. Yeah, I guess people do have trouble facing up to their own follies; after all, there’s rarely much that topples the relief brought on by satisfaction of avoiding blame. Anyhow, in my case, I can’t do a good job at executing a biased rationalisation of events; the attribution theory doesn’t hold up well against my case, because I’d probably be one of those rare cases that contradict the well-established theory. Therefore, I often find myself handicapped in the craft of ‘blame displacement’; I fuckin’ suck at it, and so all I can do is melt my conscience over my screw ups, and achieve minimum closure.

“Oh, man! We all fuck up! Most of us hate it! Now shut it with the abstract talk and get to the point!” -- The common expected reader-feedback.

You see, when I screw up, I screw up big time; if there’s one thing that the different variety of folks have in common about their opinion on me, it would have to be this common opinion of my so-called ‘destructive nature.’ An old friend of mine claims that I’ve been an extraordinarily destructive individual since childhood; another recent acquaintance, who I’d consider a very sound natural analyst, claimed that I create a destructive dynamic with other people, and even my own psychological state. So the common opinion rides on the premise that I am generally destructive, both physically and psychologically; and in true psychological terms, this would be contiguous trend, anyway. I have to be psychologically destructive on some level in order to be physically destructive; and if I am psychologically destructive, then I most likely thrive in chaos, which implies the possibility that I enjoy non-physical chaos as well. Yes, this is what most of the observing folk try to express; they just aren’t able to sum up the ordeal in such a quantitative manner.

“Do you believe any of this?” some question, and as did I not so long ago. Unfortunately, the answer isn’t simple, because I myself have gone through a similar analysis of myself and this is probably gonna’ remain an issue. I agree with the dry essence of the analysis; on the other hand, I don’t agree with the hypothesis that this analysis is being used to support. I acknowledge that I probably do have a somewhat destructive nature; I reject the notion that this effectively locks away my fate into an eternal profile of being some sorta’ destructive misfit.

“Yeah, yeah! Denial could be a good definition of your state! Now get to the point; what the fuck happened?” -- Demand the impatient folks.

Well, as you all know, in this modern-age of cell phones and other techno junk; most of us are found indulging in a fulltime relationship with these handheld communication devices. Hell, I happen to be one of those folks who's had his cell phone battery explode, quite literally a conseuence of my usage. Many of my daily and sometimes pertinent correspondences take place over the mobile phone, more so than email or anything else. Just four months ago, one of my units popped just inches away from my fuckin' ear due to some freaky battery overload or something; so yeah, my dependence really takes a toll on these things. Up until recently, I was taking this fact for granted; I wouldn’t acknowledge my need and dependence on the mobile phone. Now, one night; an important appointment and a pending meeting with an old friend; I realise that I had misplaced the damn thing! Hell, I wasn’t even aware of the fact that I had misplaced the phone, seeing, as I was sitting back and waiting for the damn thing to ring; I was -that- oblivious.

Following morning, the unit is returned to me, and I realise that I had entire artifacts of messages and calls to sort out, which I am still sorting out; I had upset a bunch of people. Over and above all, I had missed that personal meeting, which is probably one of the few ‘normal’ and ‘acceptable’ things I find myself doing. So what the fuck am I getting at? Quite simple, really; I think I owe this lil’ bastard, known as my cell phone, a good deal of credit. Despite the agony and annoyance that it brought unto me in the recent times, I must admit that I took its somewhat indispensable nature for granted.

“Fucking brilliant! Another fraction of my life span, wasted over senseless ramble! What does any of this have to do with ‘being destructive’ or ‘thriving in chaos’? You’re a mad bastard who should be committed!” -- Bitter rhetoric.

Well, I think the chaos and the misery from this situation really got me riled up on a number of levels. I went so far as to messing around with my PlayStation 2 (PS2), which I touch like once a year, quite literally. Not just that, I ended up messing up the poorly constructed piece of trash; and then for the first time, actually dedicated more than an hour to the unit, agonising myself over attempting an amateurish repair of the console. I mean, I got figgin’ irritated with the console's lens, and proceeded to work towards cleaning the damn thing, when the entire top of the unit just fell off, and with it, its clip-like cable strips were disconnected. I tried to dislodge the DVD-rom, to find a way to hook back the strip because the console seized to work, and I only had one centimetre of space to squeeze the damn strip through in order to get it lodged back into its hidden socket. Naturally, I began to question my sanity all this while; for fuck’s sake, I was trying to repair a fuckin’ eletronic mess, which by the way, I think was built very poorly. I got so frustrated halfway, that I felt like smashing the top side of the casing, or at least dumping it in the toilet! I chose to stick with the former, and found myself smashing the top cover onto the side of my writing desk; I was driven to my wits end with this shit, and just having one centimetre of space to jab in a fuckin’ strip! Yes, I was temporarily insane.

Now, the loss of my cell phone had led to this immediate tampering and destruction of my PlayStation 2 by my very own volition; suddenly, I found a need to tackle with a console that has been sitting on my shelf collecting dust for over two years. The temporary dissonance in sanity resulted in me damaging the videogame system, and actually got me motivated enough to interact with this console for the first time, ever! In addition, as a result of loosing the damn phone, and then receiving it a day later with all the missed calls, etc, I ended up sorting out all my contacts and commitments. Underneath all that chaos, I was actually motivated and functional in a constructive manner, yes, Kade of all the morose fuckers out there, was motivated.

“So much chaos, so much disarray! And that’s when I get my dejected, zealously slacking ass decides to get in gear and function! Irony just gave me a fuckin’ kick in the ass!” -- Closure.

"You just destroyed your console! Hah!" -- Critique.

"Yeah, I did! Now, please donate so Kade can have another console stationed beside his television, doing what it should be doing: collecting dust." -- Asinine request.

I am probably doomed, with my very psychological survival being the primary contingent. I guess it’s the fundamental dynamic of my entire psyche; find stability and solace through sheer instability. Enough with the stupefying talk! The mind grows numb and bored without its share of chaos, so I better get to work on creating more chaos.

Until then, stay cool and thrive in chaos, fuckers.

Cheers,
Kade -- Your Chaos Addict!

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