The Inner Harmony of my mind

Crafty Post! Oh you naughty little cookie!~


( I swear I taught him better :( )

I just got a reminder today, that I should be thankful to God, and that I really have been blessed:)

NY/AJ/Law have all been God-sent in their different ways:)

( Apparently I was choosing based on the Corruption Perception Index )

( Hedgehogs this way! )

( List of things that Joyce wants to do after her exams )

I was suddenly seized by an urge to find out what is the range of detail that people see in their dreams.




How detailed are your dreams?

Do you dream in technicolour?

( Strangely/Inappropriately Alluring... )

And now to sincerely, seriously hope and pray I get one of them. Also to get back to working hard to get that place of course. (Fate favors those who try)

Yay, for the first time in...ever since I created the LJ, I changed my layout:)

And from a blue/black/white base, its now pink, green and blue, it probably seems like someone hacked my account and decided to saturate it with sweetness:P



I hope everything turns out fine:)

I believe that being the middle child has deeply affected the way I turned out.

I'm sitting here, most quietly, listening to my fan whirl and cars whizz on the road outside, and thinking about how I don't really know how conversations go. I could probably make one up, but it wouldnt be sincere and I wouldn't know how to really sustain one anyhows.

I guess there are two main reasons why one cannot carry out a conversation. The first of which would be that one is a really really boring person with no opinions. The second of which is that one lacks the social awareness and intuition to know how to respond in a manner that makes people want to continue conservsing with one. Sad to say, I think I fall into both *sadface*.

Boringness aside, since that isn't something I can really change anyhows...

I think my lack of social intuition stems for a large part, to my birth order as a second child. Just to clarify, its not that I have zero EQ (Or so I think), I'm decently good at reading people and understanding their motivations and what they really really mean when they say things. Its just that I find it difficult to get to the next step in the social equation, responding in a manner that people want to hear. Okay, but back to the birth order. For a large part, I pretty much fall into the general stereotype of a middle kid. I'm highly private and independent, hang out more with peers than family, fear intruding on others, took a life path the opposite of my elder siblings etc. I get along fine with people generally, but I used to be far more timid emotionally and socially when I was younger. There are always smarter, cuter, cooler, more confident people than me out there, and hey, what do I have to offer?

Part of my middle child syndrome manifested in a fear that no one really wants to listen to me. I still have residual traces of that even till today. I don't offer an opinion unless and until I'm sure someone is listening to me, and if interrupted when offering an opinion, I shut up and self-delete that thought, because subconsciously, I intepret the interruption as a sign that no one wants to listen. I know its silly, but its hard to fight against the feeling of being slapped emotionally.

Furthermore, because of my privacy, I don't feel comfortable sharing my inner thoughts and feelings, and it translates into me not knowing what are safe topics to talk to people about, because I would imagine them in my shoes, and draw a big blank as to what comfortable topics are (Other than opinions about external things, which are of course not emotionally taxing).

It works out to being a vicious cycle really, because I recognise my inability, try to avoid the awkward silences by choosing not to interaction, tell myself I don't really care whether I get attention or not, then begin to not care, then get less opportunity to interact, then degenerate in terms of social intuition, etc. The strange thing is that I can see all this actually happening, but I don't know how to change it. Oh bother.

Its easy enough to understand the world, but its difficult to fix it:(

I'm sorry I got anyone into it. I'm sorry that they had to suffer more than they needed to. If I have to cry a thousand tears, suffer great pain, work a million hours, I would do it. Just don't ever let me be the one to cause pain.
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I honestly thought it was okay, that all was well and happy. That rag was an experience that people could come away from smiling, happy to have known the people they had known, and to have been where they had been. It was highly satisfying for me, no doubt. I had entered into rag float wanting to allow others to know the people I knew, to find their own place in law school in their own time, much like I know that I needed. And this was achieved most definitely. All it took for me to feel the sweat and blood was worth it, was the blossoming of a single friendship, was the knowledge that at the very least, I made one person's life better. As much as I claim to be a hard-eyed, firm-hearted "T", not so deep down inside, I'm in this to change lives, to make the miserable existence everyone has here on earth, one that is a little more welcoming and a little more fair.

If there is one lesson that I have learnt from rag float, it is that sometimes its okay to be firm. I don't know exactly what it is that is keeping me back from being firm with people. A part of me says that its because I'm afraid that people will turn on me if I am firm with them. Yet another deeper part of me whispers that it is because I am afraid that I would not know when I step over the line, from being firm, to being a controlling and hostile monster. Whatever it is, I've got to learn to deal with it. I can't be locking myself in a room forever, hoping the monster which may or may not exist will come and grab me and control me. And at the same time, I have got to be less controlled by my own insecurities and fears. If I'm going to be even half the person I want to finally settle into, I have got to start now.

Now that my tears have been shed, my heart has been emptied, I guess I don't need to resort to dramatics to apologize. I want to apologize, to each and every one of my friends who were there for me during rag float, and yet at the same time, thank you for being there with and for a greatly unworthy me. I'm sorry that each and every one of you had to suffer anything at all. I should have not let my may I say petty rivalries get in the way of caring for each of you at the start, and not let my refusal to take on a responsibility that wasn't completely mine cause the most pain to the ones who deserved it the least. Stupid Joyce, you should have realised that the ones who would suffer the most would be the ones who are the least irresponsible. And yet, I want to thank each of you, for being there for me, for the float, for rag. The experience of it was far more arduous for anyone else, because I had entered it fully prepared to spend all my days and nights if necessary. What I owe you, no, what I freely give to you whether you think I owe it to you or not, is truly my eternal gratitude and a pledge that I will do whatever it takes to let you know how thankful I am and how treasured you are.

If you ask me if I regret doing rag float this year, I would clearly and emphatically say No. The path that a person trods on is one that he can never trace back, but it is not the direction a person chooses to steer his path that is important, but what meaning can be found from the intersection of paths and from the lessons that a person learns walking alone that makes the life of a person. My goals in doing this was achieved and I very much enjoyed myself, that much was a success. But if I could have changed parts of the path I walked on, I would in a minute.

(Thought I should best pen down my initial thoughts before I give up due to inability to compose it to my satisfaction)

I probably have not seen as much of the world as many others around me have, but the more I see of the world, the smaller it becomes. Some have compared traveling to other countries to the expanding of one's horizons, but what I have realised is that the difference between cultures, societies, peoples and worlds is smaller than it is often made out to be.

I find it a comforting thought really, to know that people wherever, whenever, whoever are not that different at all. That I may live hundreds of miles away, in a culture with practices and beliefs so different, yet be essentially the same.

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Vietnam was not an eye-opener, but it definitely was a mind-opener. I wouldn't say that I had experienced things that I had not expected to come across, but I would have to admit that I had experienced things that helped me view things in new lights.

Haggling:

I am sure that I had "Easy Mark" painted all over my forehead when it came to haggling. I sure had all the signs of an easy mark: Demonstration of a clear interest in good, being unwilling to start my counter-offer too low, refusing to walk away on something, and always trying to come to a compromise. Compared to the amazing house-wifely daring that my male counterparts were demonstrating in the fine art of luring in a fine catch, my feeble attempts were mere anchovies.

The funny thing is though, that I was perfectly happy with the tiny anchovies that my paltry net had managed to catch. To me, it wasn't worth it expanding the time, expensive emotional bait and strong-armed muscling that it took to catch that gleaming fish, it was about the fun of putting out a small net to see whatever scraps my net could catch. Sure there were probably bigger fish lurking out there in the river, but they weren't worth the casting of wriggling ruthlessness and the spending of time to lure.

Haggling was fun, mostly because I didn't bother pushing hard enough to distress myself over it, but fun all the same:)

Crossing the roads:

Crossing roads in Vietnam was an experience all on its own, and would remain one of my favourite memories of Vietnam. With 9 mil people living in Ho Chi Minh and 3.5 mil motorcycles and scooters whizzing around, crossing roads that did not have many green men crossings was an exciting and yet nerve-wracking experience.

I started out like a skittish deer, fearful and wary of the scary machines that were whooshing past me. I moved in starts and bursts across the roads, stopping in stunned fear (at the lack of headlights since it was more often than not daytime). But as the number of crossings went by, my courage grew, and I realised that it made far more sense to move confidently and steadily across the road. The motorist had enough mad skills to avoid me, and thus me moving steadily gave them more time to gauge which direction to siam in. It reached a point where I actually began looking forward to crossing roads, as bizarre as it sounds, and I am sure that I would definitely miss this part of Vietnam.

(And I resume this post on the hmm 7th of July)

Communicating without words:

It was lovely to be able to communicate without words. Contrary to what it may seem, I don't particularly like speaking in words. If I had my way and the level of understanding with the rest of the world, we'd all be making gestures and using tone to express most of what we need to express. There is just something about not using words to communicate that touches me right at a warm and fuzzy spot. Perhaps its because when someone understands you without words, they in essence understand you even better than if you had spoken to them, because they never needed the keywords and codephrases to know what you wanted.

Oh, and we got plenty of opportunity to communicate without words in Vietnam. There is just something comical about a vietnamese vendor speaking vietnamese slowly and loudly to you, and you replying in slow and loud english, and neither understanding a word of what the other is saying. On a more sober note, there is also something quite warm and fuzzy in the exchange of the knowing helpless look on both sides. A look that says without words the very same thing: "Now isn't this funny that we can't understand each other?".

It was rather exciting and comforting though, to occasionally hear the lah leh and lors of another group of singaporeans.

Within the midst of First-borns

(The focus of this post is the thought of sufficiency as opposed to adequacy, but I am going to lay out the general love/relationships and contract law analogy first for context for my beloved non-lawgeeks:))

Like contracts, relationships essentially comprise of an offer and acceptance.
First feelers are sent out, negotiations in terms of little conversations and courtesies, to sense out what the other party may be looking for, and if the other party is willing to consider the offer even. Then the offer is given, a promise of a working partnership between hopefully two equals. If all terms appear agreeable, and the other party foresees a good prospect of success in the contract, acceptance is of course given.

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I was thinking about that analogy, then I began to wonder, where does consideration come in? There is often no formal or legal obligation until one finds a registrar and signs upon the form, but yet these relationships are very much binding without the form.

Then it struck me, there is consideration. What you provide in a relationship in consideration for the other party offering themselves, is yourself. And as it is in contract law, consideration need not be adequate, it merely needs be sufficient.

People are flawed beings, roughly cut gems that glimmer in some light, but dully in others. No one can be said to be the perfect lover, considerate and kind and caring at all times, knowing exactly what every single individual person needs or wants and knowing how to provide that. But that kind of perfection is never needed practically, because us mortals do not have the same level of perfection that is needed for it to be even a remotely fair bargain.

We are never adequate consideration, we can never be. Each of us are so varied in our imperfections, in our strengths, that one can never be said to be perfectly equal in value to another, or even that such value can be measured.

But, adequate consideration is never the requirement. Sufficiency is, and that is the beauty of the contract. We never need be anything more than ourselves to be sufficient for a contract to be binding.

(Of course, issues of breach of terms and stuff will come in along the way, along with renegotiation of terms etc, but that aside for now)

Okay, that was vaguely incoherent.

(Another MBTI related post! I swear I'd stop these after a while when I stop discovering new stuff about the test:))

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The Odd Egg
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My brother was disagreeing with my father over something over a meal, and that got me thinking about what my brother's MBTI type. I was one off (but I admit now that its because I wanted him to be more like me). But then that got my mother interested in what strange test I was administering to my brother, who then also took the test. The conclusion of this whole happy (because MBTI!) escapade, was that, Joyce is an odd egg.

My brother and father share an MBTI type ISTP-Crafter.
And my sister and mother share an MBTI type INFJ-Counselor.
Joyce the middle child and odd egg, is an INTJ-Mastermind.

I guess this kinda explains why I understand and am understood by my father and brother better, because we share T functions, but when I need a general idea on things, my mum and sister are more helpful:) But it does not explain why Joyce is an odd egg. (Actually it might, as a middle child, I would feel the need to bridge my siblings, and I do feel that, so it might have resulted in me growing up and developing my personality to fit in between the two types) Another general observation is that my family members are all clear introverts:)

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(who is going to take over the world)
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As I was brushing my teeth the other day, trying to solve the problems of the world, I got around to thinking about superheroes and the world in general, and more specifically about the characters in Watchmen. I was seized with a sudden theory, and despite running a tad late for school, I just had to turn on my laptop to check if others online concurred with me. My theory was that Ozymandias, the "bad guy" in Watchmen, was likely an INTJ, the mastermind type (and also this odd egg's type). To my dawning sadness, when reading forums, I realised that INTJ was a popular type for super villains.

I think its quite sad that us poor INTJs are often misunderstood to be evil or uncaring or just plain villainous. But I can understand where people are coming from. A typical INTJ would be willing to sacrifice goodwill and happy feelings, in order to achieve what they insist and believe is in the bigger better good of everyone. This is probably common for ENTJs, the fieldmarshalls, but the reason why INTJs are especially easy to villify is because of their strong I function, which means they don't naturally feel the need to explain this bigger good that they see to others. The fact that INTJs are often villains though, probably indicates 2 things, firstly that the world is inclined to Extroverts, and that it prefers Feelers rather than Thinkers. (Mean mean world:()
(Batman is likely an INTJ though, which is awesome. Need more dark-cool-rational heroes like him!)

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day, about lolita fashion, which some of you may know is an interest of mine. I got around to thinking about what exactly it is about lolita that I like, and how it fits into my whole life in general.

I've never been a particularly stereotypically girly-girl. Pink has never been a favourite colour and comfort and lack of effort generally trumps looking tres magnifique. I have also never quite been that gu-niang about getting dirty, loving to tramp along on grass and sand. Reputation-wise, I guess I've erred on the side of caution, trying not to stand out in any particular manner, and not being that girly, or remotely tom-boyish either.

I like the feel of swishy skirts and enjoy drawing clothes designs, and used to draw all kinds of princessy dresses when I was younger. I like to sew things, to feel the textures of fabric and see things materialise with effort. But at the same time I like stereotypically guy stuff like online games and working with household tools (and some powertools when they come my way:))

Now that I've gotten my history aside, what I like about lolita. I love the girlishness of lolita fashion, of being feminine without being sexy, about being cute without being kitchsy. I love the whole larger-than-life feel of lolita dressing, harking back to a more extravagant and luxurious time. I love how there is lace in a most tasteful manner, and that dresses still look more like dresses than tube tops.

I'm scared though, to let people know that I am that interested in lolita fashion. Partly because I wonder if they would look at me a little less favourably, thinking that it is some attention-grabbing type of fetish, or that I'm a little off my rockers. I guess this is rather irrational also, but I am also afraid that people would see it as a sign of weakness, of a crack in my armour that they may be able to use against me to hurt me.

I've worn lolita out before, to random events, but that was when I was in a sea of strangers, who would look at the strangeness of me, and not remember me.

Its a matter of me learning to accept myself and be less conscious about what others think. Then perhaps, I can truly claim to be a loli fan.

I'm not that original to come up with this myself, but I thought it was a terribly cute idea considering I'm quite a big MBTI fan.

Prayers for Myers Briggs Types

ISTJ: Lord help me to relax about insignificant details beginning tomorrow at 11:41.23 am e.s.t.

ISTP: God help me to consider people's feelings, even if most of them ARE hypersensitive.

ESTP: God help me to take responsibility for my own actions, even though they're usually NOT my fault.

ESTJ: God, help me to not try to RUN everything. But, if You need some help, just ask.

ISFJ: Lord, help me to be more laid back and help me to do it EXACTLY right.

ISFP: Lord, help me to stand up for my rights (if you don't mind my asking).

ESFP: God help me to take things more seriously, especially parties and dancing.

ESFJ: God give me patience, and I mean right NOW.

INFJ: Lord help me not be a perfectionist. (did I spell that correctly?)

INFP: God, help me to finish everything I sta

ENFP: God,help me to keep my mind on one th-Look a bird-ing at a time.

ENFJ: God help me to do only what I can and trust you for the rest. Do you mind putting that in writing?

INTJ: Lord keep me open to others' ideas, WRONG though they may be.

INTP: Lord help me be less independent, but let me do it my way.

ENTP: Lord help me follow established procedures today. On second thought, I'll settle for a few minutes.

ENTJ: Lord, help me slow downandnotrushthroughwatIdo.

Amen.

I wish I knew which friends were truly friends and which weren't.

I guess when I say friends, I mean people who would accept me for who I am, quirks, follies and all. People who understand parts of me better than I ever could understand.

I've met alot of people in life whom I manage to find moments of connection with, where I think for a blessed moment that I have found yet another kindred soul. Then most of the times, it disappears in time. Suddenly, I realise that I don't really know who that soul is.

Some friends definitely stay friends, people who despite distance, time, changes, still know me for who I am, and not who I appear to be. And I am thankfully and tearfully grateful for them.

I'm learning though, that it is never about the moments of connection. That part is worth far less than people put weight to. The connection comes and goes fairly easily, because after all, people will and do have things in common with each other. What it is about though, is the feeling of utter peace and security that one can feel around others. Its not about what you have in common, but its about what you are in common. Its something not quite definable, a feeling of sorts that this person may not have seen all the worst of you, but that you know with a conviction, that they will love you despite it, or even because of it, because the worst of you, is still you, and that is what matters.

I know a couple of people who I believe are like that, and that is one of the greatest blessings in life for me.

Being an incurable romantic deep down inside though, I guess I miss the feeling of knowing someone would be there for you whenever you need it. Someone who you know you cannot bother, because they have promised to be there for you, because they do love you. I cried during Slumdog Millionaire (I figure I was possibly near to the only person who did, since I didnt see anyone else dabbing at eyes after the show), at several points, one of which was when the main character said "I love you" and the female leader responded "So what?". It was so heartbreaking for me to watch that, not because I've had any experience as tragic as that, but because its one of my greatest fears and hence one of my greatest vulnerabilities. To know that your love, your affection, and you, aren't enough for someone, especially someone you do love. I used to declare that I'd rather not love, than to have loved and lost, life would definitely be much less complicated that way, far less full of heartbreak and tears, but as I mellow and learn to deal with sadness better, I guess I am changing. I think now, that the feeling of contentment and peace, can sustain you for the rest of your life. Finding that utter security is the difficult part though.

I spent my valentines day with a couple of people whom I love very much, in a different way for each, which I guess, I am enormously happy for and grateful for.

But, I guess I do sometimes wish in a greedy fashion, that there were more.

I had originally written about half a post here about things that annoy me, but upon thinking harder about it, its not the crux of the problem.

The one thing that annoys me the most, is when the very ugliest part of me shows. Its in those little moments when I let other things that I am not happy about, cause me to be irritable and then let the fire flicker out. Its sobering to realise as well, that I find myself making excuses after that, to explain my reaction to myself. But there can be no excuses, and I will not tolerate excuses in myself.

If I am going to be as mature as I aim to be, and if I truly and sincerely believe that all is in God's hands, then I cannot afford to let these little moments escape me.

If I believe in reasonableness and fairness, then I must be able to rein in myself to give myself the time to come to consider other people's understandings or views, even if the end result is that I do not agree with them in the end.

If I am to become all that I have to become, then I must eradicate these moments.

There can be no excuses.

(Apologies to anyone if that sounded kinda scary, but I really do think its a serious problem I need to rectify in myself, and that firm measures have to be taken)

There has been this random 25 things meme going around (how on earth does one pronounce meme anyhows? mehmeh? meemee? mm?) on facebook, and that got me to getting around to thinking about it/doing it. What I did realise though, was that what I listed wasn't very random, 25 isn't a random enough number, and what I'd put here and what I'd release to hundred over people, half of which I may not be that close to are very different things. So, in the spirit of pretending I don't have truckloads of work to do, here goes:

14.8 Random Things about Joyce:

1. She likes cold to either be sharply cold, for the sheer aliveness of it, or for cold to only be a precursor to cosy. (Cold-sy?)

2. She thinks guitar riffs/solos/random chords even are swoon-worthy, not that shes actually swooned before.

3. She purportedly has the same MBTI type as LKY. Awesome.

4. She loves feeling texture.
4.2 so she goes to places like Spotlight and molests their fabrics there,
4.5 and she likes walking bare-footed on stuff (stuff of course does not include things that would draw blood).

5. She has the slightest indentation on her forehead, because her sister dragged her down the stair when she was very very little.

6. She thinks birthdays are very very special occasions, and that everyone deserves at least one very special day to feel very special on.

7. She takes quite some time to warm up to people in situations, especially if there are strangers around. Brrr.

8. She has mild low blood pressure. So if she starts turning super pale one day, make her sit down, quick!

9. She has problems with showing her affection for people, but but but, you would know if she does love you, because she'll tell you, and trust me, she means it when she says she loves you.

10. She hasn't changed her LJ display pic (except most bizarrely when the stitch thing flipped itself on) since well, FF7 AC.
10.1 Not because she really really likes Cloud, but because she hasn't found anything new, plus, she tends to not like to change things unless they r broke!

11. She only likes drinking water and tea at meals, and will drink fruit juice and ribena and soya milk if pressured.
11.1 Not because she is health-conscious, but because she severely lacks a sweet tooth. (But strangely she likes ice-cream! and some chocolate! And some cake)

12. Shes taken part in 3 syfs, also in 3 different performance arts,.

13. She likes using Signo uniball 0.38 black or blueblack pens:P
13.1 And she thinks its utterly awesome that many of her good friends completely understand her need to use specific pens, and in fact, use specific thickness and colour signo uniballs themselves!

14. She loves loves loves to sing. And also she has a habit of repeating words to emphasise points. (And these only count as half each, cos they're pretty self-evident)

Okay! So thats it for 14.8 Random things about Joyce.

(Self-note: The fact that I did 14.8 random things about myself is kinda strange in itself...but oh wells!)

(Note: I realise I exist generally in 2 modes when writing, either depressingly full of pondering, or hyperly random. Maybe I do only exist in 2 modes, or I only feel strongly enough to write when in either of those moods.)

Chinese new year has traditionally been a time when I think alot, about life, about myself, about where I am going. Not because I get asked random questions by relatives, since the relatives I see are mostly 2 generations older and speak cantonese to which I just nod and smile, but because its a period of time when I get disconnected from the world as I know it, and am cocooned in a sleepy little town called Ipoh.

Cocooned really is the right word for it. Ipoh has changed gradually, almost imperceptibly as I grew up, but still remains very much like it was years ago. Sleepy, quiet, notably unexciting. But it has also remained apart from my life in Singapore, apart from the people I know, apart from my hopes, my fears, my joys and my disappointments. Ipoh, and to a lesser degree, Cameron Highlands, is a constant reminder that I am indeed somewhat different from my peers, that despite my "Oh, I'm an SG PR, bred in Singapore", part of me, the part that guzzles chinese tea and looks down at M'sian souvenirs, will always remain Malaysian. I look at the familiar green tiles and the plethora of protons, and know that in a way, that is home also.

In the past few CNY's, I've been dreading the new year period. I dreaded the onset of nothing to do, of the silence that would creep up upon me, the almost instinctive need to check my phone, to feel that the world had not forgotten about me. I would dread the feeling of loneliness that would almost certainly hit me, stealing away my confidence and feeling of well-being, leaving an anxious and deeply unhappy being being. But strangely, this year was rather different. Maybe its because the holiday was shorter than usual, maybe because I had work to do, but I found myself unconcerned about the fact that my phone mysteriously ran out of battery, I found myself unanxious and unafraid, and I found not fretting about life (beyond my pile of work overdue) surprisingly easy. I felt the feeling of disconnectedness comforting, a cocoon for all the worries that I have back home, some of which I felt and am feeling once again as I type this on my bed. I didn't have to think about people, feelings, consequences, and for a while I found forgetfulness, that was an ease to my soul.

I wonder why its so difficult to find that peace back home. Maybe because I have to face up to myself everyday, knowing where I am going wrong and having to take all steps to fix myself as I go along. And frankly speaking, it gets exhausting, but I know I have to press on, to be become a better person.

But really, exhausting talk aside, the CNY was still a comfort, a sleepy ponderous occasion for me, but one that remains an experience uniquely mine, and for that I will give thanks.

So...Wishing you (whoever you are) a very Happy Chinese New Year. (Hah, no cow jokes)

Hey all:)

I've decided to be unemo, because its getting boring, putting unnecessary and undue stress on my system, and because its pretty selfish of me. So heres to unemo.

What I am feeling though, is work-stressed. It probably means I have to finally develop that self-discipline and get down to getting rid of all the restless energy in me, but till then, there is this terrible antsy feeling in me. While I do like being work-occupied, preferably its only one item of work at a time.

Random posts like these are strange.

But that aside, its either good or bad (duh!), but I realise my blog-posting style has very clearly evolved into something far more akin to teenage angst as opposed to my earlier posts, which is more on the bad than good side. My coherence levels and thought levels have been dropping steadily, overwhelmed in a tide of work and stress and commitments that has left me barely able to catch pockets of air where I find them.

That aside as well, (and since I have the attention span of a butterfly on crack)

I was reminded of something I was thinking about the other day. I was browsing through personality/MBTI forums, and reflecting on myself. I don't know how people cultivate it, but part of me is incapable of feeling the way I see some people feel I guess. I recognize the inherent positiveness of caring, empathy and sympathy, but unless I've had a vaguely similar experience, I find that I can't feel the pain that other people or feeling, or even begin to imagine how they might be feeling. The drive and/or confidence that marks my actions for alot of things, suddenly desert me, and I find myself flailing helplessly trying to feel, but failing. Its a funny feeling, and a sad one, to feel so detached and wondering if there really is something missing inside that makes me less human.

Which seems to loop back to Trust I guess. (I'm possibly a way more amiable person at home, bordering on cartoon-ish half the time). Maybe thats whats missing, the opening up of one self to the mercies of those around, and feeling more strongly and clearly because of the vulnerability. I've been toying with the idea of being a generally less strong personality, upping my accommodation and compliance levels and reducing my defense mechanisms such as detaching myself and issuing vague Machiavellian and paranoia-based comments designed to make me a non-target (for I have no idea what). Its becoming a far more attractive idea of late, and I guess I shall try it out for a while and see what it nets me. (Yay for social experiments on oneself)