Monday, 1 October 2012

Expectations, expectations on the wall, who's the fairest of all? Nada.

Whadya think about this new look? I was sort of bored with the recent childlike look, so I decided to make this visual sanctuary look a bit more, hmm, neat and clear. Well, at least I expected it to be so, I don't know if others really count it as "neat and clear" or not.

And that's the matter. Expectations.

How do I start?

So to make it clear, I'd like to call myself a worst-case-scenario person. For me the safest plan is the one with concrete solutions when everything seems to not work out. Yet, just like other labil youngsters at my age, I'm also that type of person who already has this clear visualization in mind about what I'll  do/see/create everytime I plan something. To make it sound less complicated : I'm an analytical pessimist and also an imaginative optimist at the same time.

I always end up with expectations. The matter whether the upcoming reality suits my former expectation or not, that's not really a big deal for me. At least it used to be so.

Lately I feel like, I expect much more, which causes the fact that I swallow lot more disappointment because my plans, my pretty elaborated forecast, simply don't work.

The answer is actually easy as two three. You plant this theory in your head that nothing would ever be quite the same like how you wanted it to be. Another following confusion is, well, I don't really care if it's my expectation that I ruined, but it bothers me like damn when I screw up with people's expectations toward me.

Like, I don't really care if I get C+ or something as final score, but that will surely be a problem for mom and dad.
I don't really care if I gain like more than dozen kilos, but that might be horrible for my future love life. Who would ever marry a woman as big as orca whale?
I don't really care if I neglect my jobdesc in event committee(s), but that will absofreakinlutely ruin my whole team.
I don't really care about what I wear. Pathetic torn jeans shorts, black T-shirt with fancy colored bra peeking through a bit, or dirty cheap flip flops for a walk to capital city mega malls. But will I be that heartless to let people disgust themselves seeing a shabby fat ass with oily face and frizzy bed hair?

Yes, that's how hard life is for an overthinker like me.

(Btw, this is the fastest post I ever wrote. Seriously, wow.)