the four right chords can make me cry

Tonight I'll sing my songs again
I'll play the game and pretend
But all my words come back to me
In shades of mediocrity
I need someone to comfort me

It's been quite a week. Halfmarathons, essay deadlines, major exams and then the sem ends unceremoniously in a whimper.
It's been quite a day. I'm physically, mentally, financially and emotionally drained.

Oh it's just nothing, I told her, just my seasonal bout of mediocritits. Chronic infection, remains latent until the holidays when I have time, like k, to gaze at my navel and ponder the meaning of life. Clinical manifestations include extreme absentmindedness, unwillingness to participate in social activities, and general moody/broody disposition.

I've been thinking a lot about it, the universal and the particular. I know my life is meaningful on some level, at the level of human rights where every human life is valuable. But I'm looking for something more specific, I want to know why I, ME, this one insignificant life out of 6 billion, means anything at all to anyone. And I want to mean something specific to someone specific, though unspecified.

In a sea of other runners, I'm just one of the also-rans. # 26017. Serene and Graham couldn't find me, even the photographers couldn't find me, though I bear them no ill will, since it means less unglam pics of me on the net. Being in that crowd, the overwhelming uniformity, was almost dehumanising. What does it mean to finish 3990th place? To have an average speed of 8.2kmph? To be reduced to a bunch of numbers, placed in relative standing to everyone else.

In short, mediocre, insignificant and faceless.

She asked, does feeling mediocre have anything to do with your grades? And upon reflection, yes, definitely. Yet another instance where everything I am capable of doing, my very worth as a person, is reduced to a relative number. Dehumanised.

I guess I'm also kinda upset that I haven't heard from the scholarship people, and how completely unaccomplished filling out the application form made me feel.

Creative tension, that's what uncle jing hee told me. I remember feeling somewhat disappointed and shocked, even, at his response. You mean, there ISN'T a way I can negotiate the two poles and all my life I will have to maintain and continue being caught in the tension?

So I'm trying to figure this out, what does it mean to be of universal value (Christ died for all) and particular value (Christ died for me)?

posted by beckyboo @ 1:53 AM