Silkworms

I feel like writing but no topic comes to my head. In truth, there are plenty of things in my head just that it is hard to sort them out now when I can hardly keep awake. It's another quiet day in the office and for once I find myself devoid of work in a long time. Can't say I am not thankful, just that I wish i didn't have to feel so bored all the time. Actually I feel bored whether there is work or not and it all culminates in a vicious cycle. I feel bored, therefore I do not feel inspired to work, and as a result my mind begins to wander, causing me to eventually get sleepy. While I am fighting to keep awake, I get frustrated because my work is getting delayed due to my inability to concentrate. For any designer, there can't be any worse situation to be in than to feel bored with his/her job.

Once upon a time, I would shirk off from my studies to indulge in art. Now I can't remember the last time when I felt any passion to indulge in anything art related. I blame it on responsibilities. That and passion simply don't mix. There were two stages in my life when I experienced how responsibility turned passion into a burden. When I was kid I had a voracious appetite for science - up till it became a subject in school. Then it became tiresome, and my breaking point came when I forced to study it in depth. I was interested in knowing factoids, not delve into formulas like E = mc2. What was the point? Just how many of us are going to make a life out of doing that? Especially not in this country too. So from there I went into my favourite pastime, art. The moment I stepped into university, I found my abilities stifled by rigid rules which lecturers claimed are the basic principles of art. I recalled once in painting class, the lecturer gave me a C+ because he said I wasn't expressing myself, merely illustrating. Jesus... so now people think they could psycho-analyse what I paint and draw. Maybe I would have got an A+ for sexual angst if I ejaculated and peed all over my canvas. Joining the creative industries didn't help expand my creativity either, rather the contrary. I found myself increasingly stifled by artistically-challenged clients and bosses who insisted I should think out of the box but yet at the same time confine me to their rules.

So I find myself now in the present. What do I do in my free time when I am not burdened with work? Surfing for totally useless factoids in Wikipedia, reading on things from how zhi gung practitioners view masturbation as "spiritual suicide" to how silkworms get massacred in their pupae so as not to damage their silk cocoons. Maybe we are all just like the silkworms, majority massacred prematurely for what we can do, not what we can potentially be, while the rest are bred to continue the vicious cycle. I miss the days of childhood when everyday seemed like a new discovery instead of this current jaded mockery of existence.