Imaginary world

What is in my imaginary world currently?
In point format:

1. CIA is involved 
2. FBI is involved 
3. The school is involved 
4. My mental health professionals are involved 
5. Every inch I move, I am recorded.

Did I miss anything else?

I think it very much captures it.

The rest is but collateral damages… (not really anything damaging except for the fact that it sounds nice. lol)

As a result, I am living a life like that in the Truman show.

Such describes what they call as delusion of grandiosity. lol

Am I sure?

Yes, absolutely sure.

How do I live with it without loosing my head?

First of all, I am not even quite sure about me ever finding my head. As a result, you can’t really loose something you have never had.

Also, in case I have ever been accountable for my head, detachment, rather than the attachments that bring you the bugs, might be the key to survival.

Detachments don’t come easy or naturally.

Essentially, there are two ways to be detached.

The first involves pharmaceutical intervention such as antipsychotic medications.

The second involves, again, pharmaceutical intervention (lol) and the consequential capability it grants for one to perform self-regulated learning to detach oneself from the world (:-O).

The possible price of such ability might include abilities such as the encoding of new events—or you might call it running short of memories about the recent days past…

An example, I have recently found out that--- I don’t really have recollections about even things happened on the same day, let along those occurred with week as a measure.

Funny enough, it was yesterday when a girl friend of mine and I were reminiscing about the years past…

It was the time when we lived the life led by the great Gatsby.

We both were happy that the time had past while, at the same time, we do not regret having lived through that time while we could still claimed ourselves to be wild and young (good excuse, eh? lol).

To use a sentence to describe the collective experiences of the whole era, I would say that it was about partying, hanging out, alcohol, cigarettes, love, hate, betrayal, reconnect, gossips, rumors, confusion, sex, deaths as well as the usual occurrence of closing the bar hours after the bar was closed while one could already see the rays of sunlight peeping through the sky.

The old joint was a place to fill that sense of belonging and, I bet, the same might be for many of my pals. I had contributed to the force that drew people in by bringing that huge chunk of emptiness in me with the hope that the entrance would grant me a sense of belonging.

It did happen and these pals remain to be my friends.

The closing of the joint had officially marked the end of that era.

Yesterday afternoon, we thanked God that we lived through it and we continue to live.

It was about a year ago another usual suspect in the old scene told me, “I will never do it again.”

Like what my friend said yesterday, that discussion was needed for we might just need a closure for the time past by.

It just occurred to me that, perhaps, the mentioning of my grand delusional scheme also mark me request to say good bye to the present (:-O) even though this might not be how it works… lol

At the same time, my life so far seems to be telling me that life is about moving from one kind of f-u-ness to another.

Changes and present (at all points in time), which is lesser evil? Could either Hatshepsut the female Pharaoh or the Mayan king portrait in this sculpture be able to answer the question with their devine power?

Friday, July 21, 2006
The question from citations
When I was in school, they taught me that—you need to find the original citation.

As a result, people who knows me know that I am anal retentive about citing only the things I have really read.

Then, I dedicated my entire day today trying to get a report out only to realize that, somewhere along the line, I got trapped at the first paragraph of the introduction phrase.

I knew what all those levels are about-- Level 4 (advanced), Level 3 (Proficient), Level 2 (Basic), Level 1 (Below Basic). I also learned about the cut-off scores. However, I don’t know how they came up with these levels and, in addition to what is stated in the FAQ page.

So, I tried my entire night trying to find out how they came up with those four levels included in the performance system of NY State and City English Language Arts and Mathematics Tests.

Five hours later, I gave up.

What was motivating me through out all these hours of aggravations?

“Was it the performance goal or the learning goal?” I ask myself.

I am happy, thought, that the performance-goal orientation stopped me from the thing called persevering.

The, it came to me… gees, that book I have been reading is really getting into my head. Not the Great Gastby but the book called “Self-Theories” because I figure this is a book that will be cited.

Sitting back, I realized that all these are but the wrong questions…

So what is the question?

Bloody week: Bloody happy

I was still upset as the week starts.


Yet, some supreme force already had it all panned out two weeks in advance for my session with my therapist happened to be on Monday afternoon.

So I bitched about things only to realize that it is the multiple presentations of the same principle… or issues might be a term more appropriate for it.

It is the same issue that has been driving me crazy, literally, for the past few years.

It is what caused my relapse last year before I even had a chance for my symptoms to go on full remission.

It is what put me through all these hassles of working part time while waiting for that full time position to emerge.

That bloody immigration thing it is.

So, I walked out happy and all happy because I have pinned point the core of the problem while the solution is yet to be sought.

It has nothing to do with the grant.

It has nothing to do with the resume.

It also has nothing to do with my working over time on a part time position.

At the same time, it has everything to do with everything.

If you gotta blame it on someone, blame it on the institutions that set up the policies, blame it on the rain that causes the flood and, most important of all, blame it on the situation.

I often wonder whether I am actually the one to be blame for it is me who decide to continue dealing with the same issue while all issues would be annulled shall I simply return home.

Concurring such a thought originating from the theory of internal locus of control, my therapist’s voice often pops up, warning me the danger of asserting too much control within myself while some issues are actually out of my jurisdiction. (Apparently, I am pretty well trained by my therapist and psychiatrist. lol)

All pronounced nullified.

I look inside myself-- free of responsibility and free of obligations-- in response to institutional policies et al.

What is left to be sought?

I was and I still am all happy.

What is to be sought is from within and from the construction of oneself.

So I went back to work, exhaled.

I continued with my readings and writing.

And, I continued living without a sense of gravity.

I was and I still am down to earth.

I felt and I still feel the sense of motivation.

Ayn Rand is right.

The worse crime there could be is to give up the sense of self for, when all is nullified, there is only the self that could propel the drive to move.

So, I decide to be, nothing more than selfish.

To hell with the institutions for I will continue to live till I stop kicking (:-x).

The continuing efforts on getting quality work done and meeting the grant deadline? Value added.