Friday, August 28, 2015

Adulthood: The Switch

Filed under: Pondering the Personal,Waxing Philosophical — jungzx @ 7:00 pm
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Do you remember when you were a Child and you’d watch Adults go about their lives?

Walking around the mall, you see them dressed real nice, accessorized and made up like a proper girl and think to yourself “Fucking cool. I wish I could do that.” Walking around parks, you see couples in love and wonder what that feels like. Playing around with the carts while your parents scour the aisles, you observe them pick out their groceries. Sitting at a cafe with your mom, you see them around you, looking cool, hanging out with their equally cool friends, smoking cigarettes.


Have you ever realized that now… you’re the Adult in this scenario?

Now, from where the kids are watching, you’re the one they think is cool. You’re the one they want to one day maybe grow up to be. You, with your clothes and make-up. You, with your apartment and your groceries. Your dates, your friends, your parties. You, with your cigarettes and alcohol, with the freedom to do whatever you want, whenever. And, you think, if they knew what I know now, they wouldn’t think I was so “cool”. And you wonder, were all the adults you used to watch from afar just like you, pretending?

Now, you’re the one the kids half-watch in wonder, in awe, in curiosity. And you let them. For now, for all their hopes, dreams and ideals, they don’t need to know any better.


Friday, July 26, 2013

Embracing Singularity

Filed under: Pondering the Personal,Waxing Philosophical — jungzx @ 7:36 pm
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I’ve been single for 3 years!

And maybe time has forced me to adjust to the situation accordingly, but I’m pretty sure it’s been a long time coming. Either way, I have to write this out. Please, humor me.


The first 2 years, in between dating, I went in and out of a miserable ‘forever alone’ slump of a mindset. Was there something wrong with me? Why won’t anyone love me? Am I ugly am I fat am I boring am I annoying? Am I going to die alone? Should I start hoarding cats? You get the drift.

The guys I liked wouldn’t like me enough to continue what we started. The guys who liked me, well… I didn’t like them the same so obviously, I’d walk away.

The past year, I haven’t gone out with anyone. Maybe one to two dates, nothing notable, but I didn’t care. I don’t know what happened, but I stopped being miserable.

Those slumps no longer find me.

This calm is a little scary and a little out-of-the-ordinary but over a few conversations with different sets of friends I realized something I guess I’ve known since I was a little nerdy child with parents who should have just separated:

Societal pressure was the only thing ever pushing me to find a boyfriend. Who else — other than everyone else following the predictable flow of this life game — says contentment has to come hand in hand with getting married and having babies?

I’ve been single for 3 years straight now. I’ve met people. I’ve flirted. I’ve dated. I’ve tried things. I’ve hooked up.

There were a bunch of nice guys, some assholes, and the unfortunate forgettable ones.

But this past year was one I mostly spent with friends, if not just alone.

I’ve learned more about myself than I ever have. I’ve always enjoyed alone time and that hasn’t changed. I thrive on it. I’ve met so many awesome people, have found friends who just get me better than I get myself, and I’ve learned to stick with those who always have.

I’ve gotten to explore the world, in a manner of speaking. And without some ‘other half’.

I’m not quite content just yet — I am, after all, only 27 and still figuring my life out. But I am quite happy with the way things are and the last thing I need is another something to have to spend time on and deal with.

Now, I’m not saying I’ll never settle down. I will. But that, I have decided, doesnot equate to getting married. I can grow up, I can “settle down” alone. And I think I’d much prefer that. It may be a little selfish but it’s also so much simpler.

If somehow, magically, I meet a person who can get me, understand me and deal with all my complexities (and I the same with him), then sure, I wouldn’t run away from that.

But I think I’m okay with living alone the rest of my life. I’ll have my friends and family. They’ll get married. They’ll have kids. (I’ll be nice to their kids, I swear.)

And I… Well, I’ll have my German Shepherd, my cigarettes and my words. And all that should be enough.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

In life, love, clichés.

Filed under: Waxing Philosophical — jungzx @ 9:13 am
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I don’t believe in a god. There is no one to blame, only us. There is no one to thank, maybe just the people around us.

I don’t believe in karma. There are only those lucky enough to get away with the horrible things they do and those unfortunate enough to be truly good people but go the rest of their lives unacknowledged, unrecognized, forgotten. Things don’t happen for a reason. They just do.

What I do believe in (and this is going to sound ridiculously cheesy but I’m trying to be blatantly honest here):

I believe that life is what you make it. I know it’s cliché. But clichés don’t become clichés for nothing.

I believe in love.

I am quite terrified of it, too. At it’s worst, you can literally — yes, I mean literally — feel when your heart has been shattered into countless jagged little pieces you can no longer put together. But at its best, you will find that the rest of the world is a blur and bliss is almost palpable. You’ll look like an idiot smiling to yourself, amidst strangers on the walk home from wherever, at the mere thought, memory or anticipation of the next encounter. You’ll discover a spring in your step that wasn’t there before.

It hurts you. It haunts you. It embraces you, changes you, inspires you.

It can create you. And it can destroy you.

There’s a beauty to this two-faced emotion. And whether you experience it at its harshest, cruelest form or are fortunate enough to stumble upon the side that’s insanely unbelievably wonderful, it’s a beauty that is inescapable. There is no denying its existence.

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