I spoke too soon. I'm calling it quits.
We can't be together. He's lanky, I'm fat. If we go together, we would look like a human-ized version of number 10, or .01 if I'm on the left and carrying a big plastic of groceries.
Of course all of you would say that lookism in relationships didn't matter. But what if you're in my place? I've sacrificed everything. Time, energy, and money; but there really is no way this body would shrink.
Why, of Good Lord, why can't a fat pig and her lanky love cannot be together? I've never seen a very fat high school girl go out with someone lanky, or normal-sized boy. In America, it can happen. But you just can't get the American out of a Filipino.
"Life has never been this good for me. I hope this is for good.."
Ugh. Being fat sucks. You don't have the right to love, nor to be popular, nor to be yourself, nor to be free, nor to be anything. Being fat is like being a Jew on Holocaust. Feelings and senses are locked up. People disgust you. No respect is earned. No anything is earned, aside from calories and carbohydrates.
Being fat means being irresponsible. Irresponsible in a way that you're letting people know how gritty-teethy you can't get with food.
Thing is, I'm not even eating.
People should know respect like the back of their hands, if they should be respected like the way I wanted to be.
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We have a new keyboard. And I love love loveeeeee it.
It has these multimedia buttons on top which makes it super great.
HOGWASH.
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I did something against my will.
WATCH GREY'S ANATOMY.
Oh yes. I actually don't have an idea why I did so, but next thing I knew, I was mid-hooked. GAH. It's not my fault Meredith Grey's philosophical lines every time the show ends is so...true. All of them are so realistic.
What can I say about it? Well, hell it sucks. I only like it when Meredith would start saying those words of wisdom, or when Cristina would blurt out something funny, which has become so rare in every succeeding episode of the 3rd season. There's more drama and sex and relationships and shits than living out the show's purpose which is to entertain us with accurate medical information that would deal with weird patients. Thing is, I still can't see a weird patient. Every patient I had pondered in every episode just seemed tad to normal.
If I had watched Grey's Anatomy before I watched House, I still would choose House MD. I learned more medical and Biology stuffs in House MD than any other medical shows I've watched. And Dr. House MD is waaaaaay funnier than all of those surgeons in Grey's Anatomy combined. The characters in Grey's Anatomy LOOKS funny, like Miranda, who very much looks like a mushroom-headed hobbit. The characters in House MD looks professional, but still can live up the true sarcasm spirit of the show.
God, I really do have to stop watching too many TV shows.
Prison Break? Lemme try!
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Love is getting weirder and weirder every single day of my stench-driven life.
When I was still a kid, I thought love was yuck. Every time my grandfather or my dad or my mom or any relative would ask if I love them, I would always nod my head in disapproval. Media has given me the information that love is just pure intimacy. Kiss kiss, hug hug, sex sex. Growing up with that kind of perspective really didn't help. It makes you expect stuffs and would later on be sadden by the fact that love isn't like that.
When I arrived at that stage when I had my first realistic love, it gave me creeps. Jeez that creeps. They told me that if you can define what you're feeling when you're in love, then you really aren't in love. It's like saying you're evil, but you really are not. Did Satan ever made a quotation that He, ergo, was the most evil-ish devil in the whole saga of our lifetime? That's what I'm talking about. Do the talk.
Turns out that I CAN define what I felt at that time. You know, same old butterflies in the stomach thing.
And now, as a full-grown love cockroach, I definitely know what the hell true love is.
This perspective isn't from my girly-girl, teen-bopper, personality. Like hell I am. Thus, this one is purely juiced from my wannabe-grown up part of the brain.
Love is not butterflies in the stomach. Love will never be a medical condition that is just there to make you squirm in delight that somebody loves you voluntarily. It is therefore a commitment to a relationship that expresses not only intimacy, but creates our own version of what maturity can lead to. Love, moreover, makes us perfectly mature if we can handle it in the least intimate way as possible. Intimacy is not the only thing you get in a relationship full of crappy love. Making sure that someone cares for you and feeds you and grows old with you is solely NOT the purpose of love, because our parents and relatives can perfectly do the same thing.
My pointless point is that love's purpose is to teach us all a lesson in the end. Remember, that all decisions we make affects further and future aspects of our lives. And if we won't learn from anything, then future is just a Gaussian blur with a radius of 100 in the end.
Somebody told me that I make him happy. I was thinking of this a while ago, and I ask myself..How the hell can I even do that? You know, make other people happy, but not make myself happy?
“Maybe we're not supposed to be happy. Maybe gratitude has nothing to do with joy. Maybe being grateful means recognizing what you have for what it is. Appreciating small victories. Admiring the struggle it takes simply to be human. Maybe we're thankful for the familiar things we know. And maybe we're thankful for the things we'll never know. At the end of the day, the fact that we have the courage to still be standing is reason enough to celebrate.”
- Meredith Grey
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Monica and I were talking about college yesterday. You know, being in McDonald's Katipunan AGAIN on a Friday night would really force you to stop and wonder what the hell you're going to do on the next biggie step after we graduate this year.
Some people are wondering what course they would take up, or what outfits they would wear to college, or some teensy-flimsy questions in life.
But my real question is, WILL I PASS A SINGLE COLLEGE?
College friends are telling me to never doubt yourself when it comes to CET's. If you're doing so as early as now, then the more you will on July, the el great hellandia month.
Course is never my problem. Not that I'm decided on one, but choosing one can be an easy step if you really know yourself, which I am. It's either liberal arts, or engineering anyway.
God, I shouldn't be even thinking of where to study HERE if I'm decided to take a scholarship in University of California, San Diego, where my talents will be much further appreciated.
But one thing I learned in sappy movies and telenovelas is that you can't leave someone you love that easily. I mean love love, as in voluntarily love.
How bitter can my life be anyway?
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