Few people actually know that I'm double blogging. But as my MSN space where the majority of my readership get my regular updates from has been blocked for more than 2 months, I'm planning to switch to this alternative blog to circumvent the GFW. However I'm less than prepared to disclose this relatively unknown space to others. It remains and will remain a personal online sanctuarary where I could lay my confessions on the floor, without having to worry that someday they be stumbled upon by some unwanted readers.
Compared to the whinning, whimpering and complaining Mike of the MSN space, Mike of Onedropofwater appears to be another individual, someone a little bit more detached from the mundane daily existence and those minor misfortunes which the other Mike has always been at odds with.
On the night I was to depart from BJ for SG, I felt grateful what this job had brought me. During the past 9 months or so, I've had more oppurtunities to travel. 9 months after, I've come to realize that living a work-life imbalanced life has turned out to be not only unsustainable but rather perilous to my emotional stability. I tried putting up an escapist frame of mind, hoping that workaholism could salvage my heart from drifting in the dark ocean of sadness and helplessness. I volunteered OT for most of the workdays, and at least one day for the weekends. I remember last December and this January, I worked for 50+ consecutive days, without a day off. No one ever came for me, and no one would ever have.
In retrospect, it was the hardest time of my life. Couldn't stand to contemplate how I got by, physically and mentally.
Now I've been in this post-modern mirage island state for more than two weeks. I wished my job, this time, could again bring me something new, something postive that my life has been so desperately in need of, just like it had when I wished so much to travel. But I was wrong. Maybe I've been used to pipedreaming for so long. Maybe it's time that I woke up to the fact that with great expectation comes greater disappointment. Maybe I should just quit my job and fuck off.
I was with gratitute that Brian called last night to comfort me, telling me with hindsight how every one survived the pressure went through the same thing, how necessary this period would be if you were to become a true leader in your area of expertise three years from now.
I was happy he called. But I couldn't be bothered. Leader? Why, I couldn't care less.
Depression persists.
