Category: attitude

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I’m stained with apathy I’m blind but I can see

I deserve better.

“O-kay. Here we go again. Round (hmm, let me borrow some fingers and toes) 865532.

WOOOOOO!! Fun ride again. I’m impressed by the new nicknames.

So while he can use all the foul words in this world on us, I can’t say a single word? Wowwwwza! Score for me! I see more and more justice in this world. And you can even laugh at his profanity-stringed jokes and then say that we are crude? I’m not one to say who you can scold but even a blind man could see the crookedness of your judgments.

I’m childish, I know I am, and you can say it if you like. I’m kinda getting immune to all this. Should really listen to C and observe absolute silence even when we’re being accused and scolded and lectured and abused(???). But I guess I’m just the type of person who can’t keep my mouth shut! I like being involved and I just can’t not care. Dammit, why am I such a stupid caring and emotional person? And when I care, I get it all slammed right back into my face and get called ‘unappreciative’. O-kay!

Oh, and I’m not sly enough to quickly change the direction of the conversation to make me sound brilliant. I sure should pick up on those skills so that I can get away with anything. NAAAAAASSSTY! I should be all like, “OHHH, ERRR, she looks like she’s having a change of heart” when being lectured for spilling out lots of unnecessary information. Then you’ll go, “REALLY?” and then the conversation will be directed away to other things. LOLOLOLOL!!!!!

And I’m sooooo sorry I’m not good with the FAKE apologies. It’s just not me. I’d rather not apologize than spit out ’sorry’s whenever I need you back. LOL!!! Funny! And I’m sooooo sorry I’m not sneaky enough to get back into your good books by filling the blue pail then leaving the red pail empty. Bet no one noticed that… Hmm… Well, instead of noticing that, you give him a big pat on the back and congratulate him for learning to be more responsible. GOOD JOB! ;) And I’m soooooo sorry I haven’t learned the skills of fake suicide and running away. That really got me laughing. Like HEEHAWWWW.

And we’re always in the wrong, aren’t we? No matter what we do or say, we’ll always be in the wrong. Sorry I can’t be perfect like that lil angel who will prolly stab you in the back one day. It’s teaching me to shut my mouth and not speak a word even though I’m right.

When I wash the damned dishes and actually put effort into doing something, it hardly gets recognized. When he manages (with your help, of course) to cook something, we’re expected to praise him and all sorts of shit. I don’t take it so well. When he vacuums the room, we’re accused for not helping and being ungrateful that he has done all the work (then complains about a backache later). Maybe I need the recognition every time I do something worthy. Maybe I live for recognition. But don’t we all sometimes? When he does something stupid and f-ed up, you ignore it. I ain’t giving out no more secrets cuz one day when the big bomb falls onto you, I ain’t gonna be there to say I TOLD YOU SO.

I’m also disappointed. All this anger and misery and biting sarcasm is actually budding from my disappointment.  You tell me that you weren’t talking about that. Well, I was. I still am. Whyyy? Because it’s been eating at me (mentally) for a whole year now and I’m still not over it. Much as I want to be okay and skipping happily again, there are some dark periods of time when the incident just replays over and over in my head and I feel un-okay.

Do you even know how it feels? To lie in bed and not notice you’re grinding your teeth because you’re angry at what happened? To lie in bed and subtly pull the sheets up as if to fend off your fear? To jerk awake when you hear sounds that sound like that person walking in? To dodge out of the way (while the incident replays in your mind) when you pass that person by in a narrow space? To close your eyes and want to die when you think a bit too far? To listen to that voice and feel the pit of your stomach stir with unease and sudden anger? To flinch inwardly when that person comes a little too close? To slam the bathroom door shut when you hear that person approaching? To feel your head tighten and your hands twitch when that person decides it’s fun to suddenly appear in the middle of the night? To pretend that you’re fine and okay to be around that person? To feel as if you can’t see the sunlight anytime soon? Do you?

No. You don’t have the slightest clue. You think it’s a joke; you think I’m making it up; you think I’m just being a drama queen; you think I’m exaggerating; you think it’s FUNNY.

And it saddened me to hear you telling me that wasn’t the point. It’s a really big thing to me and you just shoved it right back at me as if I was telling you a bad joke. The only person I trusted to understand how I felt pushed me away. Do you know how that feels? The only person I love and want to be loved back by pushed me away. Just when I finally had the guts to admit how I really felt, you turned me away. It took me a year and over the year, I’ve been talking to C, telling her everything. And she told me to tell you and every time I tried to, I couldn’t. C gave me advice, told me things I wanted to hear, told me that it’d be better if I told you, told me that I’d go bananas if I didn’t tell someone who could help me. And then yesterday I told you. And you ignored it completely and I got called bad names instead.

I think I would’ve preferred a stab to the chest. That hurt. I can’t believe you did that. It’s like a kid putting his/her trust into his/her parents, only to be dumped by both of them one day. Trust. I trusted you. I trusted you enough to know that you’d care. But no. I was there for you, why can’t you be here for me?

And maybe it just isn’t a big thing to you but mentally, it has scarred me. I hope you’re happy. Again.

Don’t come to me when he has stuck a knife into your back because I will be so numb by then, I won’t be able to feel your pain. Every little incident hardens me a bit more. By the end of the day, I’ll be heartless. And C and I will be there to laugh at him. His pride and idiocy can blind him into thinking that he’s god but he’s not and one day, what he deserves will come a-knocking. Don’t say we didn’t tell you so.

The irony of it all is that this all began when he started playing God.” – Unknown.

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how come I was the last to know?

OH, so that’s what this morning was about.

I was expecting that. Now why did I let it affect me that much? I mean, I was prepared for it. I guess it just slipped my mind because we were having a relatively happy meal (does happy mean anything to you?) and then it was decided that, since everyone’s HAPPY, let’s drop the big bomb.

Right. Now I remember why it affected me that much. What the heck? How could I have left my guard down like that? You know what? That’s the most vulnerable position anyone could be put in. No wonder bullies find people’s weak spots and attack when they’re least expecting. God, gotta learn to be quicker than that!! Time to learn that ‘It’s not okay to be okay’. Seriously.

So I guess everyone’s HAPPY now. (OH, they are. They’re chatting happily about things I don’t want to listen to at all) Because I am. Now that I’ve pieced myself together, it’s not going to bother me even if that means breaking down in a god damned bathroom. But then again, does anyone really care, I ask myself? Care. What a strange word. Hoho, you can care for the world but that doesn’t mean the world has to care for you.

Oh, and by the way, while we’re at it, let’s baby the world but let them off the hook when we need help, why don’t we?

Let’s start with listening to all those complaints about stomachaches and painful eyebrows.

And let’s continue with bones in a chicken and ways we can create mammals without bones.

‘Why don’t you let them carry it?’ Why? Why don’t we let them carry it? Why not we think about why they never OFFER to carry it?

In fact, WOWZERS. These are great. Someone should write a book about it.

When people accidentally drink hot soup too quickly, we all fuss about them as if the world will end because of a burnt tongue.

But when other more important things which traumatize others happen, we say, it’s okay, they didn’t mean it. Weird world, innit?

Let’s go back to everyone being happy! Let those back here suffer while others prosper and enjoy the worldly goods the world has to offer. Doesn’t matter because some people are just so needy, they’re so old, they need a babysitter. We can suffer back here, sure we can. Aren’t we  used to it? Isn’t this the way of life?

What do you have to feel uncomfortable about? My say don’t count so it don’t matter either way, right? What more can I say indeed?

Being fake becomes second nature to us when we live in a lie. We put on smiles, encourage others to do what they want to do just because it makes them happy, laugh along with them even though you feel like doing anything but laughing. But sometimes, being fake is tiring. Don’t we all just wanna let that fake smile slide and cry our hearts out sometimes?

And being the supportive one in the lot comes from realizing that no one else is going to care. So what do we do? Hold their hands in their times of need, hug them and keep telling yourself and them that everything’s gonna be just fine, make them smile, cry along with them, tell them things they want to hear, repeat those things because they don’t believe it, notice when their smiles fade into frowns, notice when their sniffles aren’t just sniffles, go everywhere with them just to make them feel good. But sometimes, being supportive gets tiring too. You want to be supported too. But you can’t give in until you know the other person is going to be okay.

After that, what happens? They forget. Or they don’t care. Again. Care is a strange word. It is, shall we say, a difficult position. We always want to care but should we always?

And why do people care for people who don’t care? Especially those who have wronged you in so many ways, you wish you could turn back the hands of the clock so that you could’ve done the right thing? Especially those who have never cared for you?

What becomes of the people who have cared (so deeply, I emphasize) for you?

And there’s no one I can talk to now that you’ve gone over to the dark side. I feel empty. The day you weren’t at home, things were nasty and I wanted so badly for you to be there. And I was just telling them, God, you’re the only person who understands me. Now you’ve gone and joined the dark side while I can only stand by the sidelines and pretend to cheer you on.

I can’t talk to anybody because they’re like, Why can’t you be a little more supportive and make them happy so that their journey will be happy too? Well, I can’t. Because I’m not happy and I’m sick and tired of pretending to be happy when I’m not.

Frankly, I don’t wanna listen to your silly little happy stories and plans because all I feel like doing is punching the person who is causing all this in the first place. And I don’t want to follow you anywhere if it has anything to do with those silly little happy stories and plans. I want to crank up the volume when you talk about your silly little happy stories and plans because I hate listening to them.

I just want to stand in the crowd, say goodbye as fast as I can then go home because I’ll hate that moment. I know I will. Let’s just get this over with so that I can hate you and the cause properly.

A part of me will always hate the cause. There’s no undoing it. I hope one day I can forgive him but until then, this grudge is staying. And I hate it when people talk to me with cheery tones. They can’t even see how I feel. How sensitive. I want to punch his lights out and maybe hit him a few times just so he knows how I feel. Of course, no matter what I do, I’ll always be wrong. So no punching lights for me.

I’m feeling so bitter, I could spit out citrus peel faster than a machine gun. But this too shall pass. Why? Because I always let people be. Time and time again. How retardedly noble I sound.

I want to sleep until the storm passes. But that’s difficult, considering it’s gonna be another month and a half.

Bon voyage.

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i wonder when you close your eyes

Images from cartoonstock.com and jojos-cartoons.com.

I wonder if my whole life will be filled with secondhand goods. Used goods (some even rotten enough to be fed to dogs) keep dropping into my lap and I’m expected to make use of them (and I always do… until they literally die while I’m using them). Usually these used goods are important things in life. Pity these important things such as technology and daily needs have to be old and dysfunctional goods.

And I don’t even complain. I’ve been taking it all in because I’m like that. And no one even notices that I don’t complain. I might talk about it once or twice but it’s all good. Only on my bad days, I feel like I’ve had enough of secondhand goods to last a lifetime. You might think that I’m being ungrateful because there are people out there who can’t even afford things that are given to me but the thing is, I’m about the only one in the family who gets these used goods. There’s about so much I can take, guys.

Justice is crooked as far as I’m concerned. In school, at home, in life? It’s all the same. There will be no fairness and equality as long as we’re all human. I’m seriously considering dropping out of school to become a monk. No sh*t. Sometimes I think I’m destined to be a holy person. I’d like to be at peace with the world and everyone. I’d like to do good because there’s too much evil in this world. Oh, I forgot that monks don’t swear. No joke then.

Oh, look, my fully DYSFUNCTIONAL laptop screen has just turned everything blue. My life rocks. Oh, and the spacebar isn’t working very well. I feel blessed. I love life, indeed.

If I don’t become a monk and walk down the religious path, the first thing I’ll buy when I get my first paycheck will be a school book (I’ll probably frame it too). Because all my school books are tattered, torn, used and ready to disintegrate. Oh, and I’ll donate to charity and if I can, I will send spanking new books to kids at the orphanage. Seriously.

If life won’t be fair to me, I’ll be fair to life. Two wrongs don’t make a right. Keep that in mind.

XOXO.

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my memory plays our tune

It is so weird how I’m talking more and more about the things I never used to care much about. Yesterday, my girlfriends and I talked about guys. Guys. Oh my god. Me? That’s like, so not me. I’ve always been sort of a social outcast in school. I mean I have friends, some of them jocks, some of them cheerleaders, some of them geeks, some of them just fun-loving but still an outcast.

Nobody knows who I am and you can tell by the way the cool kids give me that ‘I’ve seen her but where have I seen her before’ look when they see me outside of school. I’m so vague, I’m almost invisible. How cool is that? I’ve never minded being an unpopular kid in school because it’s pretty beneficial. I get to know everything about everyone else without anyone even knowing who I am.

Back to the point. I just realized that I didn’t have a lot of guy friends until recently. When I was in preschool, there was only one boy in the class. And all the girls had a crush on him. Up till high school, I had a few guy friends here and there but when I moved to a different school, somehow I lost track of all my friends.

And let me just tell you that I’m not exactly the girliest of girls. I rather like being one of the boys. I never understood the excitement of talking about girly things like dancing, dieting, clothes and makeup and boys. Not to say that I like talking about violence and football and whatnot with boys but somehow they’re easier to talk to. When I talk to girls and express my disinterest in their topics, they give me the ‘what is wrong with you?’ look. Also another reason why I’m never invited to parties. Not that I’d want to go, really.

Anyways, my girlfriend likes this guy in my class. She thinks he’s cute and everything and coincidentally, I’ve come to know him this year (I know almost everyone in school because I’m observant) and he’s become sort of a good friend. He’s really funny and a good sport and also pretty generous and he’s just been suspended at school for a really stupid reason and I’m gonna miss all his stupid jokes and crazy behavior. But the point is, my girlfriend’s been talking to me about crushing on him.

How weird. And she’s asking me to ask if he’s really with some other girl. :| I’ve never done anything like that before. I mean, sure there’s always gossip about who’s going out with who but somehow I’m involved in her little (or big) crush on him. She told me that he’s told her that she’d look pretty with long hair and that he’d miss her and I would so totally believe that if it weren’t for the fact that I know he’s a joker.

He likes fooling around and I’m afraid my girlfriend has been taking him a little bit tooooo seriously. He’s generally nice to everyone but somehow she thinks that he’s only nice to her. D’you think that he should stop sending the wrong messages or whether she should stop thinking of them as a sign? I have no intentions of involving myself in him, her and his unofficial girlfriend but with her calling me just to find out about what’s new with him, I’m starting to feel… irked.

Boys. Ugh. And girls. Double ugh.

I’m perfectly fine with not liking anyone at school. I’m perfectly fine with my seat on the bleachers, just watching school gossip happen. Things get too messy. ;)

Images from Bing.

x

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from a sidewalk to a crowd

Images from Bing.

Need I say more?

It’s a trending topic on Bing and I happened to click on the link which led me to many articles about Kate Hudson’s implants. Does the girl really need it? Honestly, I don’t think so. She’s gorgeous and she doesn’t need plastic boobs. Why would anyone get fake boobs to boost their confidence? It’s absolutely ridiculous and yes, I’m kind of against plastic surgery. Supposedly Kate got implants because she felt insecure… :| My god, what is the world coming to? Insecurities lead to surgery???

I mean, maybe she feels better about herself now and everything and she can do whatever she likes and I’m happy for her but this is quite superficial. If guys don’t like you the way you are and you have to get surgery done in order for them to like you, then they’re not worth your time at all. For your entire life you have to try to be someone’s type. And when you are finally that someone’s type, you are a stereotype. And physical beauty is just not everything.

You were made this way and you should accept the way you look. Why go through so much to look like someone else? It’s so weird and I’ll never understand why people like undergoing the knife to correct this and that. Why can’t you like who you are? Why do you need to look older? It’s natural to grow old and get wrinkles and whatnot. Why are you fighting nature? I mean, sure there are some ways to stay younger longer but you can’t beat the inevitable.

And those enhanced boobs? Gravity exists. Go figure. And Botox? So you lift your face and look as if you’ve got cling wrap stretched across your face… then what? Then you grow old and your face becomes imperfect (as if we were all perfect in the first place) and you do it again. And you keep doing it again. And then what? Nothing. You just look like some retard, no offense. And lip injections? Big pouty Angeline Jolie-isque lips for a hefty price are beyond me. And rhinoplasty? I have no words left to say.

Oh, well. Just the way I see this whole thing.

P.S: I think Kate with bangs looks like Ashlee Simpson, dontcha think?

x

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categories T's theories, advice, attitude, beauty and fashion, celebrities