On carpe diem and deferred happiness

Dad was a very ambitious artist and theater director until he married mom. Mom was a very ambitious student but had to quit school after she married dad. I seem to have inherited all of their ambitions that channel through arts and science but hardly find enough time or space in my life.

"The misfortune of my life is perhaps that I am interested in far too many things and not decidedly in some one thing; my interests are not all subordinated to one thing but are all co-ordinated." -Soren Kierkegaard


To gild the lily or add insult to injury (yet to be revealed), I have authored my own ambitious to do list that grows inexorably at astounding rates. You might refer to it as a carpe diem syndrome with bipolar outbreaks around birthday and new year memento-mori deadlines. Contrastly, with my longing for a eutopic stability that can be diagnosed with deferred happiness syndrome, I am nuked in a catch-22 situation that I have always characterized by the dilemma of "depth or breadth search" i.e. "master or jack of all trades"... I am left to choose between spreading myself too thin, or stuffing myself too thick.


So, should I elaborate further or move to a different topic et serait-il en espanol o in un altra idioma #%$?%??





R E B O O T

Chronic Heartbreak Syndrome

CAVEAT: not for the fainthearted!

Ever since my heart was shattered due to amorous mis-encounters, my meaning of life nullified for failing to prove or disprove anything meaningful and my career incorrigibly confused consequentially, I have been feeling a mild yet endless heartbreak, as if the burning wounds from the past heartbreak have not fully healed. It is very similar to dysthymia, a chronic mild depression syndrome, that I unsurprisingly also suffer from. The suffering is however lamentably bearable enough for me to live with. Otherwise, I would have rebelled and lived differently. But very lazily I seem to vegetate towards the lowest forms of energy. Analogously, a frog accidentally jumping in a pot of boiling water might survive thanks to its fast reflex unlike another frog unawarely heated in a pot of water.  This is what I call decadence. Decadence as I am.  I am not playing the victim, obviously since I am the only reader of my blog and I seldom unveil my desolation in public. I hide it effectively with intensive sarcasm and black humor. I am a seeker of truth and I know that things are best studied when diseased or perturbed. But when will I be done studying my very miserable self? When will I give in to a mundane 8-5 job or a simple wife or a big family? When will I surrender to time? Will time tell? Only when I surrender, time will tell!