• 10:16 PM, Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Delete and away it goes!

How simple is it?
How much simpler can it be?

Unfortunately, RL doesn't work like Twitter.
RL doesn't work like fanfictions, either.

I get it, yeah?

Why am I expecting adoration if I've already deemed myself unworthy of such?
Why do I pull the humble crap for pleasantries when I'm much dirtier than that?

Why do I admire things, people, situations so easily within reach?
Why is this craving insatiable? Why are my emotions so hideous?

Why, why, why, sing to me

I've craved attention ever since I could discern that quiet air of pride that trickled from my every pore. I was cherished for something I exceled in. An accomplishment, so to say. It could mean nothing to me but the accomplishment has never truly mattered. It's the outcome, always the outcome.

But now as I face my mid-(teenager)-life crisis, I find myself wondering: has this been necessary from the start? My chest swells with every realization that I'm as proud as a lion, maybe sinfully more, because it feels good to have pride screwing me upside down. That's not the crux.

Am I doing this for others? For myself?
"I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. I'm fucking sorry."

Am I saying this for myself? Quell the scathing regret?
(Then I wonder again if it's even needed. Perhaps not.)

Today, I shall be honest and brutal.

And it's not just for today.
I should rephrase, huh?

Starting from today, I shall be honest and brutal.

Naru and Arashi and fanfictions and family and stuff toys and music and my PSP.
Not sometimes, not maybe. They always seem more significant than anything else.

No more hesitance. No more maybe or what if or if only.
We have one life. We live as we see fit. We're Kings of our worlds.

No more profanity-abusing. No more self-loathing.
There's quite possibly nobody who could love me more than myself.

No one else who knows all my quirks and downsides and brilliance and mood swings.

No more imitating, no more (forced) changing, no more "I don't want to be myself".
I'm the best there can be. My jealousy, envy, wrath; I'll accept and nurture them.

Yesterday,

I came to understand the full nature of thrusting oneself into relations. It means you give and take, forgive and forget, make an effort and revel in said attempts. Most importantly, you truly care about the others around you.

Sorry but, I'm the most narcisstic creature there is.
Not in mockery, or sarcasm. Just a simple, plain fact.

I don't "give and take", there is no exchange because nobody is ever worthy of my "give" and nobody ever produces a worthy "take". I can "forgive" but hell can freeze over and I'll never "forget". And, effort? Why waste time and energy on such crap for undeserving people?

My mom spent hours preaching how it wasn't the people in our environment that need to change, it's us ourselves that should accept the fact not everyone is how we'd like them to be.

I agreed mutedly, up till this point.

I'm childish, and the people in my environment are the same, if not worse. But I find myself striving for something better while drowning in their nonsense. I berated myself before for this line of thought, but why am I even berating myself?

Because by social norms, I'm horrible for having such thoughts?
And by no means do I want to turn out all horrible and mean?

Whatever it is, it's there. I'm not going to deny my own thoughts.
That's ludicrous, like denying myself of my existence.

If I'm horrible and mean, so be it.
I live by my own brand of justice.

I'm not abusing a kitten to its death.
I'm nice enough as far as I'm concerned.

I was torn between sounding dignified and typing the truth, which sound like mere excuses.

But, yeah.

I don't care if they sound like excuses because in actual fact, all that matters is I've gotten them off my chest and I know they'll hold true till the Earth stops revolving.

That's all that should really matter, isn't it?

And since this just popped into my mind, I shall touch on something completely unrelated: to all the hipsters out there, it's disgusting when you declare "I think I'm a les/gay/bi" on a whim. It makes me want to throw bile all over your faces.

I used to think my friends (two of them) were serious until I quickly arrived at the bitter realization ("Fooling around. Do you really fool with such things?") that they were bored and wanted something for a change in their mundane lives. So they unwittingly uttered, "I found that girl pretty hot. Maybe I'm into girls."

"I found that girl pretty hot," sits absolutely fine with me. Who doesn't enjoy eyecandy, disregarding gender of said eyecandy? Not so much the second sentence. The "maybe" irks me even more.

What?
Really, what?

I'm straight and I found that sentence offending as hell. I was only mildly surprised to find distaste forming in my throat, for having taken them seriously at all. (Though I'll never regret, because you never know who is serious and who is not unless you discover for yourself.)

Sigh.

I'm out of fuel.

Project needs to be checked tomorrow.
I haven't even started.

Young 'uns, we're too young to die
Shall rant another time, another day.

Byebye, thirteenth moon.