Here I am, once more shamelessly blogging about my frustration, with another human, with my work life.
Basically frustrated with the choices that I make.
Which is supremely ironic based upon the fact that I make a living teaching people how to make more informed choices. Choices about their courses, about their careers, choices about the words that they use to write their crappy essays. I teach how to make choices but I fail myself when it comes to making those for myself.
Man is born free-- I can say that I believe that wholeheartedly. It is not religion or man's inner anxiety that ties him down-- it is in fact other humans. We are solely responsible for stripping away the other's freedom and leaving them to not be able to make choices for themselves.
Our parents for example. They raise us, or in fact they want us, to be informed individuals equipped to take on the world and it's myriad of challenges. Yet when it comes to making a choice, most of us inevitably, especially those blessed enough to be from South Asia, will make choices that please our parents. Because we are made to feel the burden-- we fed you, we clothed you, we paid for education, we clean up your shit when you can't-- you owe us happiness.
And just like that we make the choice that ultimately makes them happy.
How about you? Deliberately trying to strip away my choices? How about you being so unmoving and so rigid in your chase after freedom? How about you being inappropriate, being so blatantly unfaithful and being so ridiculously unfair? What gave you the right to suffocate me to the extent where I feel like I have no choice but to walk away? To ignore? To let it be?
The problem with frustration is that it demands release. And when the release is over, shame prickles down your back, pinching you uncomfortably as you hastily try and shake it off.
Next post may be called ashamed.
Basically frustrated with the choices that I make.
Which is supremely ironic based upon the fact that I make a living teaching people how to make more informed choices. Choices about their courses, about their careers, choices about the words that they use to write their crappy essays. I teach how to make choices but I fail myself when it comes to making those for myself.
Man is born free-- I can say that I believe that wholeheartedly. It is not religion or man's inner anxiety that ties him down-- it is in fact other humans. We are solely responsible for stripping away the other's freedom and leaving them to not be able to make choices for themselves.
Our parents for example. They raise us, or in fact they want us, to be informed individuals equipped to take on the world and it's myriad of challenges. Yet when it comes to making a choice, most of us inevitably, especially those blessed enough to be from South Asia, will make choices that please our parents. Because we are made to feel the burden-- we fed you, we clothed you, we paid for education, we clean up your shit when you can't-- you owe us happiness.
And just like that we make the choice that ultimately makes them happy.
How about you? Deliberately trying to strip away my choices? How about you being so unmoving and so rigid in your chase after freedom? How about you being inappropriate, being so blatantly unfaithful and being so ridiculously unfair? What gave you the right to suffocate me to the extent where I feel like I have no choice but to walk away? To ignore? To let it be?
The problem with frustration is that it demands release. And when the release is over, shame prickles down your back, pinching you uncomfortably as you hastily try and shake it off.
Next post may be called ashamed.
