JaDeD by .:ning:.

Hey jjjaded
In all its misery, it will always be what I loved
And hated, and maybe take a ride to the other side we're thinking of...
I've been thinking about you, my baby blue
I'm so jaded
And baby I'm afraid of you
You're thinking so complicated , I've had it all up to here
but it's so overrated, love and hate it, wouldn't trade it - love me jaded
- Aerosmith

No prizes for guessing the name of this post. Oh yeah, I wrote it up there. Duhhh. I spout the most supremely obvious things.
I could sit at my desk admiring my beautifully-written up list of Things To Do on name stationery, or revel in my misbehaviour of failing common test while still making merry during assignment-empty weekends over roti prata with my Sunday school teacher. Or laugh at the blasphemously funny antics of an acquaintance. I'm rolling on the ground with mirth, having fun. I'm perched at the corner of the stairwell examining the ceiling 'cos I gotta examine it from every angle. I keep on being surprised. (Pleasantly so, good, nastily so, at least I've seen it.) Can't be a bad thing, right?
Wrong.
I'm j-j-j-jaded, and it ain't amusing. Seeing the same old habit from a buddy, I blink and remain calmly unassuming. Is that how I explain everything away? 'Cos that's the way it is? At the same time jaded can be measured as experience. Which is not always a bad thing. After reading out a self-penned, untried poem to a the skeptic APM crowd while shaking in my blister-inducing shoes, being one of the guitar ensemble in our first public performance was like, nada. (Then again, maybe I was too relaxed and was all ready to trip over the music stand before Yu-Hsin bowed, have a few noisy accidents concerning my guitar and Sarah's scores, etc, etc.)
However, while treading on the thin line between religious faith and logic, I'm caught in a bind. I could argue heatedly with the rest of the world for the rest of my life, or remain comfortably apathetic and stick "whateva" / "ignorance is bliss" pins all over my schoolbag. How many times do I just drift through events because they are routine? Float like a little rock in a fast-moving, impatiently squabbling creek. Even as I type this, I know 365 days from now I'll be reading this, perhaps smacking my head in frustration/embarrassment, yelling "Why didn't I DO ____" or "I really should have ____" while at the same time realising I was perhaps powerless to stop it.
Sometimes I wonder why I care so much. But the time to start is now.
P.S. I just realised those lyrics are quite irrelevant to my rant. Oh well. Maybe they'll be relevant to someone else...