Sometimes I wish my life offered me the same services that diaryland does to its members, namely the ability to delete and edit entries when I please. That way, if I ruin my chances with the boy I have pined for this past month, I can edit my choices or delete them entirely. Or if certain new dilemmas arise, like having second thoughts about this boy I have pined for this past month and first thoughts about another boy who has seen me at my best and worst, I can edit my thoughts or delete them entirely.
Having the ability to edit and delete thoughts, choices and actions would give me ultimate control. I could manufacture my life like a fresh piece of fiction (or newly “discovered” popstar) and write off and introduce characters whenever I like. But where would the fun be in that? Jonathan the Herald Sun astrologist would feel unneeded, life would be predictable and I would end up inventing some overly complicated, teenage-soapie-type quandary just to keep my blood pumping. I thrive on life’s whimsical tendency so making life foreseeable would bore me. Besides, I couldn’t handle all that power. I would abuse it and end up like Macbeth: dethroned (from my position as a royal drama queen) and beheaded.
(This entry began as a campaign against the complicatedness of my life. I was about to beg the great powers for some mercy and stability but after mingling with my thoughts for a few minutes, I came to realise that I like my life just the way it is – complicated, irregular and neurotic. Yes, even my life has psychological problems. But despite all this, I still read my starsign. Yes, being a budding psychologist does not make you immune to psychological problems).