Maybe it IS because of the blogging incident. I have been fairly proud of my blog, and also consider my writing a forte. Not being able to do something you are proud of dampens the spirit alot, i think. Maybe that aplies to foosball also. I consider myself one of the better players in the hostel, and on Saturday i let myself be trashed by some players not as good as me. I haven't been on form that day, because of the Wushu the previous night, and my arms were jelly. Outwardly i managed a grin the entire time, even when they were gloating, but inside, i felt like cringing. When i told them i was off form, they told me to stop giving excuses. Sigh. I thought i am mow quite matured enough not to take these stuff to heart, but apparently, i was wrong. Of course, i trashed them the next day, and nearly waon a two-on-one match. Let them chew on that. Hah.
But then this "disspiritness" could also be that i am suffering from withdrawal :) Reasearch has proven that when one exercises, the brain releases a stream of natural pain killers, which acts like a drug. There has also been a documented case where this fellow got so addicted that he went for longer and longer jogging stretches, until he overworked his body so much that he had to recover in and oxygen tent. Similar but much toned down case?? I just went through Wushu the night before, and to me, it was a pretty strenous set of exercises. I deserved some painkillers. Maybe i did get some?? lol. Anyway, i don't really enjoy entertaining the idea that i would be someday jogging non-stop just to get my brain to pleasure me. Even though i would have lost a heck lotta weight.
So i decided to cure this thing, by going to the Carlton Gardens the next day, in the morning. I went there, found a nice spot under a tree, sat down and meditated. The grass was damp, the wind was cold, and leaves and twigs kept falling on me. But afetr a while, i got myself reasonably calm enough. Also did some warm ups, took out the camera and took some pictures. Spent time trying to draw the surroundings and got my page wet instead (wet grass+paper= nono). By then i resolved to just lie down on the grass and do nothing. Interesting how much bugs there are on a small surface area. I noticed pretty soon that the blades of grass are constantly moving, and not by the wind. Fascinating. Apparently, it worked. Either that, or the withdrawal's gone. When i went back to the hostel, i sat down and rapidly started typing a 1500 plus word story. Impromptu. Scary. I suppose the things i wanted to write were just bottled up. Now, if i can only find some other way of creativity that doesn't involve getting addicted to your own pain killers....
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