The power of complaining

I get these a lot, i.e. complains. Sometimes (I don't want to brag and say often) about myself, sometimes about other people's life. Sometimes, it's good to get it out of your chest. Sometimes, you just need to complain and whine, because it will make you feel slightly better. Sometimes, though, it is bloody annoying.

There's no standard really when you can and cannot complain. If you believe you have a certain air of "freedom", no matter how absurd the concept of freedom is, you may do whatever you wish. That includes complaining. You always (or often) think that your life and life problems are the worse thing in the world, that other people are having a blast, when you are suffering alone in the corner of your bedroom. Well, those other people whom you think are having a blast might feel the same like you do.

It is basic human nature: to never feel satisfied. It's in our blood, that's why we always complain. But I think there should be a certain logic to this nature. At least, you need to be able to rationalise it. Don't say you don't like things (e.g. your job, your spouse, your relationship, your friends, your house, whatever) just because you don't like them. Specify the reasons, and then do something about it. Wallowing and cursing will only satisfy you for a bit. Reality will still bite.

I sometimes feel tired with myself because I often feel bad about my life but not really doing anything about it. And I realise now, that I'm in a process of moving forward. I complain less (I think) and try to plan things (more) seriously. And if other people ARE having a blast, it's because they deserve it. Out of luck or chance, or hard effort, there are reasons why those guys are enjoying their life. I just need to make one (or many) reason(s) for myself. I managed to get out of a demonic affair with an ex. I also managed to establish a good relationship with a "special" friend without too much conflict. And the most important thing, I'm getting along well with myself.

Complaining will do you good, if you treat it carefully. Just like having a vicious dog to guard your house, treat it carefully, it will guard your house. Treat it wrong, it will bite your hand. And that will definitely hurt.

Writing a sinetron

I heard the president said last night on a press conference that drugs corrupted the young generations, making them unproductive, lazy, ill, and such. I would say that sinetron is equally worse to drugs. It makes people stupid, uncreative, unrealistic, and just plain sad.

I was doing my usual script screening. There were four scripts on my desk, waiting to be either tossed away or given to another editor for a second opinion. I've read two so far and both were written by highschoolers, tender in age (and I guess in writing experience). I am not going to rattle about their age, because it has nothing to do with creativity. It's their choice of characters. Their main "actors" are near perfect. They are smart, immensely handsome/pretty, athletic, and come from an established family. The divine type.

Yes, I know it's fiction, but why the stereotype? Why the sinetron stereotype, to be more exact? The young, fit, smart, handsome, kind, sincere... as if God made a mistake and created the "perfect" man. It feels like these young writers don't live in the same world like I do. Where do we find these divine people? I sure want one for myself.

I am not trying to generalise. This is just an observation, coming from reading I-don't-know-how-many-local scripts. Most of the teenage stories are like the Harlequin-published books with no sex and local setting, which predictably worse. The rest is just the same Cinderella-complex.

I guess one can relate it to one's wish. Perhaps the author(s) was (were) picturing her/his ideal picture of a family, life, oneself, etc. And it's all there in their "novels". A fiction diary. Thank God, they are still young. So they will have plenty of time to evolve. God protects me from bad literature. Amen.

Attention seeker

Have you ever felt desperate for a social interaction? Be it only a random conversation over coffee with a friend, or a long session of cuddling with your loved ones. Desperation comes when you know that you don't have anyone close enough to do that. You know you need it from other people, but none will provide for you.

A person once said to me that I need to be proactive and seek out those people. After trying for some time, I realised that it's not really about finding these people, but it's about coping with the loneliness. You will never be able to rely on anyone. We, humans, regardless our social tendency, are individuals; created different with one another, bearing our own unique traits.

I know that I'm not good with myself. I need companions almost all the time. I don't need intense conversations 24/7 of course, but I have to be with other people. Or I'll be quite depressed. I need to talk to and hear stories from another human being.

I guess I'm lame in that sense, not being able to withstand myself when I'm alone. But, that's just the way I am. Of course, this is related to the previous post. The sense of being expendable doesn't really help.

But then again, maybe I just need a decent sleep. Something that I have not yet able to do until now.

The Expendable *unlike the movie*

I have written something similar actually on my other blog (which on a serious consideration of putting it to sleep, forever) and maybe stupidly cross-posted it here: about how friends eventually drift apart, not because we grow hatred towards each other; it's just because we fail to find the thing that sticks us together.

I remembered I wrote it in terms of natural selection, was it Darwin or the other guy? Anyway, the issue now is the expendable(s). Nothing like the movie, I can assure you. It's more to the fact that most of the time (this year anyway) I feel expendable. And, perhaps, have made other people feel the same.

It's a common practice in this social life: you reach people when you need them and dump them when you're finished. Hence, the phrase "taking things for granted". You tend to ignore the fact that friends don't come easily. You just take things for granted, acting as if these people are there for your purposes. Not caring whether they have any feelings about your cockiness or not.

My latest dumping did not go well (when will it go well, anyway?). I was dumped and felt extremely hurt. Just when I expected my life would go on slowly and safe after that, I encountered a similar situation. It was not dumped-dumping per se, but I was pushed away... hard, which felt, sadly, similar to being dumped. Then again, they are only different words with the same meaning.

Whether you are dumped or dumping or drifting apart from your friend(s), it doesn't change the fact that this kind of event hurts you. A bit, much, tremendously... it's your call. But knowing that the names on your friends list have decreased really put you (me, in this case) into a perspective.

I realise that my existing friends (not that many, I'm afraid) will stay there no matter what. We might not see each other for a couple months but when we do, there's no gap. We behave normally, as if we've seen each other every day.

The rest of the names on the list: they will either delete themselves or be deleted. And such is life. It sucks, but I know that I just have to move along.