Matches and Gasoline

And so here comes that day again. Freaking Feb 14. And before anyone would accuse me of being this bitter, unattached, and scorned female, let me just put up my defenses for a minute, ok?

I most certainly am not a bitter person, ladies and gentlemen. Although, I am the the perfect candidate - since, after all, I am single, already in my mid-twenties, and I do basically distrust guys. I'm not bitter. I'm mostly... uhm - I'm looking for an erudite word here, but the term "annoyed" keeps on volunteering itself for usage.

So, let's settle with that. I am annoyed.

I guess this is the point where I pose the rhetorical question, "Why?" (Oh, how I hate being predictable.) So why am I annoyed at this supposedly love-filled time of the year? Where everywhere you look, you find roses, chocolates, greeting cards, and any other commercially lucrative product that can be stamped with a "Happy Valentines". Thanks to those enterprising companies who found a way to cash in on the gullible sheep mentality of the human race, the idea of love is now a commodity. No different from the season's latest fashion or technology's latest innovation. Price tagged, bought, tied with a bow, and sent. Signed, sealed, delivered, it's yours. Now, I'm not a socialist. I'm all for capitalism. I just don't like the idea of love being cheapened somewhat by all this circus.

And there's that nagging pressure of having love in my own life during this time of year. I get these concerns on my single status from those I interact with. Am I more single on Feb 14 than any other day of the year? Why do I get more question on why am I single? Why haven't I found the right one? Why do I distrust guys?

See? This is why I am annoyed. I don't have the patience to repeatedly explain that I happen to like being single, that I am not actively looking for anyone to mess up my life - oh, sorry - to be in my life, and I distrust guys - especially charming ones - because most of time, they just end up being dense, shallow, narcissistic jerks.

Interesting. My passionate ranting has caused me to see red all over. Finally, I have something in common with this heaven-forsaken occasion.

Happy Valentine's Day, people. For whatever that greeting's worth, coming from me.

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The entry title is from a song by the band Live - the title and exact lyrics of which escape me at the moment. Something like, "It's amazing what we can do with love. With some matches and gasoline - do with love". If any of you happen to know the song, please do let me know. Thanks.

Indecisions

What is it about being at this point in our lives -- mid-twenties, I guess -- that renders us conflicted with decisions. Switching careers. Migrating abroad. Settling down.

Seems that there are too many crossroads to ponder and choose from. It's more tangible at this age. I am explicitly aware that whatever I decide now, will definitely make a lasting impact long term in my life. And I'm overwhelmed, frankly.

Who, what, where do I want to be?

Is it too pathetic to admit that I haven't figured it out just yet? I have my desires. I don't have a gameplan.

I spend ten to fifteen hours a day, six days a week in front of a computer. Not exactly unhappy, but incapable of finding time to find myself. I've always made that as an excuse. If I had the all the time in the world for discernment, would I finally get it?

Sad thought if I don't. But I need not worry, apparently, since I do not even have the time to blog sensibly - I won't have enough time to get all depressed.

The status quo works out so perfectly.