Saturday 19 November 2011

Relationship / Reproductive Isolation Barriers In My Life : The Sympatric Speciation of Me.

Speciation refers to the formation of a new species from a pre-existing species. A species, in turn, refers to a group of organisms that look similar and are able to interbreed to produce fertile offspring. I am an extinct species. The only of my kind, and it looks like I shall stay forever alone, because hey, I can’t breed with myself, can I? Sympatric speciation gives rise to speciation by reproductive isolation barriers : producing infertile offspring, behaviour specific courtship rituals, breeding at different times (temporal) and mechanical isolation or physical incompatibility. I blame these barriers (and some personal ones attributed to my incredibly emo (temporary) temperament) for my present situation.

Let’s start with breeding at different times: which is not to be taken literally. Of the people in my life, many are in phases beyond that of my own. The most basic example being the lucky ones that have hit a superior, legal age and can revel in Origin, Cube etc, to be more specific. That’s not to say I’ve not had my fair share of frolic; hardly so. Yet the quintessential plane that separates me from these specimens is the inherent freedom university and age has brought them. So, should I seek to once again fall for some young chap at university, I should be wise to think twice – as I can hardly frequent Origin every second night. They mate whenever, wherever and however they like. I, sadly, am presently limited by my green identity book and my yellow matric time table … of which the latter shall disappear in a week (HELL YES).

Next comes infertile offspring : the formation of useless relationships that bare no fruits of use to my life. Such liaisons tend not to be productive – fair weather friends, parasites that made me write nice page for their matric diary but didn’t bother to make one for me and people that I only speak to when I’m really bored… or temporary friends : the ones that you can’t quite figure out. The ones that you don’t speak to for weeks, but when you do speak it’s like you’re best friends forever – those kind of people. It’s through this troublesome barrier that I’m left questioning the very existence of relationships that will yield love and support… thereby leading to personal isolation.

Thirdly, we have species specific mating rituals. I honestly don’t understand most people. The signs, signals, hints people profess to have dropped tend to fly over my head like the plane that hit the twin towers in 2001. However, I’m completely immune to the language of ‘hint’… except those I seem to fabricate in my mind. For example, the obvious hint : “I think you’re really pretty.” I’m indifferent. The statement : “Hey heyyyy” = OMG THERE ARE SO MANY YS I THINK HE LOVES ME. This misinterpretation of signals, incongruity of communication and lapses of judgement have resulted in much forever alone-ness.

Lastly, mechanical isolation – this in the animal kingdom refers to species being physically unsuited for coitus. Me? I think my personal mechanical isolation could be how I make the wrong choices in people, sometimes; choosing people that I may be totally incompatible with, people my friends think are mingers … or generally not nice people that I try really hard to be friends with but end up disappointing myself.

To wrap up, I’d like to mention how every second thing makes me sad these days. True story.

*insert sad music here*

Thursday 3 November 2011

FLUSH IT!! FLUSH IT ALL!!

I’m usually a happy person. I also usually make an effort to be erudite, and create reasonably intelligible sentences. But sometimes life gets so full of shit that you can’t. Which is what I’m going to do now. I’m going to flush the shit down the toilet of life in this blog rant.

My point here, is, how do you exactly pull the chain / lever? When you’re filled with negative emotions, drowning in the sheer tsunami of diarrhoea that’s suddenly hit you from almost every aspect of you life HOW THE HELL DO YOU EXPRESS IT? Or do you bottle it up, keep calm, and eat bread to bind everything in your stomach? I can’t exactly walk up to the people that are annoying me and say “Your mom was full of shit, so when she gave birth to you, you got that for brains. You lucky c*nt.” No… that’s bad karma!

However, it’s highly unhealthy to bottle up ones emotions. They usually need to be expressed in one way or another. The source of such emotions is irrelevant – women have this whole ‘talking’ business all wrong. See, when you’re discussing how annoyed you are, it’s wrong to focus on the cause of your annoyance because you can’t take it back. Neither should you dub the person who annoyed you as an unholy shithead never to be spoken to again and who deserves to also be flushed down the pan of life with a samurai sword as a toilet plunger to make sure they comes back up so you can stab him down again. It’s all about dealing with stuff rationally – multiply by a surd.

This being said, as I’m writing finals currently, I’ve realised the emotional stability I have is equivalent to a bag of rats burning in paraffin. It’s in the negatives. So, I have options to deal with stuff:

1.Keep repeating ‘I don’t care’ – this, I’ve been trying all day. It’s not working.
2.Admit you care about the situation and it’s affecting your mind in strange, vengeful, angry ways. Resolve to calm yourself down and go through the motions…

BUT HOW THE HELL DO I DO THAT!?

Maybe all I need to do, is play some Call of Duty / Guitar Hero, listen to My Chemical Romance and eat cookies. But then I’ll just annoy myself because the songs will ring in my head while I’m studying; and I just ate already so eating more will upset me.

ONE SOLUTION!

*reaches for the Allergex*
I’ma pass the fuck out, k bye.