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I’ve been oscillating from depression to blind optimism for the past days. Depression is my default phase then I would console myself to blind optimism which wouldn’t last thus the vicious cycle. I am not one who is easy on himself when one commits mistakes especially if the the mistakes have tremendous consequences and if the mistakes are just from sheer stupidity. I should have followed that still, small voice inside me telling me not pursue that gym application. Truth is, god, I really hate myself right now. Why did I allow this to happen to myself?

Limping for a week and still needing to go to places, one sees through the eyes of the physically challenged. One feels defenseless against all imagined evils. Crossing a street becomes a hundred times more scary. Public-utility-vehicle-drivers  stopping in the middle of a busy street to let you down becomes a million times more evil in your sight and you can’t kick their balls because you’re limping. People stare at you like a freak as you pass by. Plus it’s really depressing to experience how some people can be so inconsiderate of your predicament. People can be so evil sometimes.

But I’ve also learned that there are people out there who have good hearts and who would go out of their way to help you. Like drive you back to your boarding house despite being out of the way and despite of the exorbitant price of gasoline, push your swivel chair around the office and to the restroom so you wouldn’t have to stand up, get your milk from the canteen at the building’s first floor so you can have your breakfast of cereals and coffee at your second floor office, support you as you go down the stairs, go inside a car and limp across the corridor. And of course, there are your parents and siblings who are outraged by the gym’s lack of overseeing and instruction and who never left my side and made me feel better by their encouragement and tender loving care.

To everyone who has made me feel better (you know who you are), thank you, thank you, thank you very much.  I am deeply touched by your kindness. I hope my knee recovers fast so I wouldn’t need to have an MRI. Waaah!

I whine a lot because I care a lot and I want people to share my pain. The moment I stop whining would be the moment I stopped caring – and it would be a sad, sad world after that. As much as I want to just take it all in and shut my mouth, I know I would just explode.

I would speak up wherever there is injustice, whenever someone is wronged. I would speak my mind when I disagree. I do not always have to take everything and conform because what I think and what I have to say matter. Trivial as they may sound what we have to say count.

When you listen to my whinings closely, if you really listen, you would find that their purposes are not all arrogant and selfish. I want to be true in this world filled with lies. I would not pretend that everything’s ok when something wrong is staring point blank at my face. I may be annoying but at least I am not a hypocrite. And I owe it at least to myself to be real.