I am partly enjoying the fact that the Internet connection is unusually slow, and I cannot just go to a website without my eyes rolling as those little green bars progress like small turtles on a sunny beach. For one, I can't focus on my FILDLAR essay if I know that the Internet speed's a breeze and there's just a ton of sites I want to view and all. Well, it's a good thing that God is finally cooperating on his fullest by removing the block (writer's block) out of my empty head and replacing it with ideas, ideas, and frigging more ideas. I swear words are just flowing out of my hypothalamus, and I wish I have a metal pan nearby so I can smash my head so as to stop blurting out gobbledygook things. On a bad note, it's just too bad that we have this one-page limit in FILDLAR essays. I mean, where the hell am I to write these excess inklings which I doubt I'll get another dose of in a week or two?
Damn it.
Anyways, this is just the most regretful day ever. See, we were supposed to go to Enchanted Kingdom in the afternoon. And BAM! It rained so hard, I almost cried. I dreamt of scary roller coasters and other rides the day before, so you can just imagine my frustration when big drops of rain smashed on the car's roof and window panes, hitting my head like big bullets fired by no less than the US Army or something. Since rain means pain, we were not able to go to the theme park and instead just resorted to Mall of Asia which truly, truly and truly sucked like hell...except with the part where we ate at Kitaro and Krispy Kreme. Eating is always fun, and my body can attest to that without saying anything.
So to sum it all up, doughnuts and japanese food makes everything less regretful. Oh, and friends too. And candies. And Krispy Kreme paper hats. And balloons.
And...you.
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I was going through drafts hidden beneath hundreds of posts here in my blog and I suddenly came across this shit I made for my birthday:
I slept early last night to have the whole birthday thing going. And yeah, I just woke up.
Again, I was about to pick my nose when suddenly, it hit me that it was finally MY day. I don't really know why my own birthday is hitting me for the third time this week. It's like I don't deserve to celebrate my own birthday because I keep forgetting it, or I'm just too arrogant that even my own birthday refuses to be a good one for the last 4 years that I've been having it. Oh Lordy.
After realizing the aforementioned, I quickly grabbed my phone to see if anybody remembered my special day. Being the infrequent texter that I truly am, I was surprised to see 8 messages and 2 emails. My God, I have friends? I mean, not that I'm complaining or anything, but boy, I sure have an emotive and valid excuse for quitting my suicidal ego. Can you believe it? People actually greeted me. People I'm not related with, and people who I rarely talk with. That is so overwhelming. If I have a metaphoric heart, it could've busted right now with happiness. So yeah. To everybody who remembered, I'm thanking you all from the bottom of my metaphoric heart. It's just too bad I don't have one.
And it finally occurred to me that I am not seriously enjoying my life right now the same way I used to enjoy it last summer and high school and whatever. Yeah, I get it...things DO change, and I for one just cannot dictate these things to change and still make me happy. But it's just so weird that all these changes have to give you this heavy feeling that you made the wrong decision, ergo, you deserve to be unhappy and lonely and miserable all throughout your life - unless someone by the name of TOOT suddenly comes up to you and profess his undying fetish for your humongous thighs AND by then, just by then, life would truly be worth living.
But that is just not happening. Apparently not now, or sooner or some time in the future because I haven't come across a person who's hungry for some big ol' legs of some big ol' lady with big ol' issues. Not one person does - let alone a dog. Not that I'm hoping or anything. (No, seriously..I'm not hoping for some dog to love my legs.)
I've been thinking about this since that hell-driven Monday when my blockmate proved to me that every one's an ass, and they will give a shit about your figure until they run out of shits to spare. I. Am. Not. Happy. In. My. Current. School. I hate to break this to all of my non-existent readers but it's not something superficial again. It's more of what I'm feeling inside when I'm actually IN school. Don't get me wrong with my group of friends, though. Krissy, Princess, Chino, and Giecel are always fun to share jokes and anecdotes with...sure, but school's lacking something. Probably a driving force to make me go there? I don't know.
Or maybe yes. Driving force...where art thou?
School used to be such a thrill back in high school. I never skipped a day because each day is like this certain piece of chocolate from Belgium only a few people can get hold of. It's so enthralling, that resisting it would be extremely excruciating. Yeah, I know I'm being stupid. Everybody knows that college is not at par with high school in all aspects, so I really have no right to compare my high school days with what I'm experiencing now.
If this is all part of God's will, then why the hell am I so desolated and dispirited? I know there's no guaranteed that what God wants you to do will make you so frigging happy, but why am I feeling so miserable right smack in the middle of what everybody would call paradise (yeah, well more like educational paradise. No pun here. No. No. No.)?
Maybe I need to make a decision to end this melancholy extravaganza. I do not deserve to be unhappy because...
a. I tutor impoverished kids during Saturdays. Don't shove that well-hey-isn't-that-one-of-your-subjects-or-something issue again. I believe that what I'm doing is more than a requirement. It's like a mission...or something like that. No, SRSLY.
b. I hear mass every Sunday, for the love of God. I try to sleep early every Saturday evening so as to not fall asleep during mass. That is such an effort worth clapping for.
c. The only vices I have now are Coke and liquor. I smoke occasionally or almost never, because I'm getting tired of suffering for the consequences of it all. And besides, coughing irritates everyone, so I better just stick with my drinking habits and lay off the death stick if I want myself to be appreciated.
d. Writing hate blogs here doesn't make me a bad person. See, I don't write bad things about people if they didn't do something stupid to me. Just like what I've said before, I am not fond of confronting people in their faces because I don't want them to feel stupid and ugly, like what they're all doing to me. So it's just probably more efficient if I'd just reprimand you here with your anonymity assured.
I think I need to move to another school. Ironically, the school I thought will be my home for the next five years is pushing me away.
And I wish I can push back and let it know that I can still bear the loneliness it's letting me feel.
Wish.
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