Come as you are
Everybody lies. The bad guys lie to get into your bed and the good guys lie to get into your heart. Why not. It works, doesn't it?
It's easy to manipulate guys when you prey on their libido while it's easier to manipulate girls when you prey on their hearts. So fucking unfair... though it's a game I don't mind playing anymore since I learned the rules the hard way.
Pop thinks I have superiority complex... That I think I'm better than most, if not all. Which is very unlikely since I was a middle child for eleven years till my baby sister popped out of nowhere. Anyway, maybe in a way, I do tend to think that I'm cool, always right or almost perfect. And I do tend to be so annoying at times that I would've annoyed myself if I weren't me.
But I never judge people for how I conceive them to be. To each his own.
Yes, first impressions stick. On the other hand, I have devised a way of judging books by their actions and speech on the first acquaintance and not be wrong as the pages are turned. Common sense and intellect push people to put their best foot forward at those times. I act snotty and stuck up and silently uncool and simply observe. Whoever isn't intimidated nor shoo-ed by my facade has a good heart and will be a good buddy. Not a bad strategy in screening people.
I guess I've gotten over my naivete... And I know better now than end up being someone's pushover sidekick. Oh, and I am not there to make friends nor lovers, at all. Being unreal and being professional are two distinct terms... Though a thin line separates them. Friends are a bonus; Admirers mere nuisance. I'm selling out for the money.
About me. Yes, it always is.
Thought you had all the answers
to rest your heart upon
but something happens
don't see it coming, now
you can't stop yourself
now you're out there swimming
in the deep
Life keeps tumbling your heart in circles
till you let go
till you shed your pride and you climb to heaven
and you throw yourself off
now you're out there spinning in the deep
--- In the Deep, Bird York
Cool. I haven't slept in 24 hours and my eyes are starting to burn and get all grainy and I'm in the mood to write a coherent description of myself. So... A very good friend tried to boost my self-esteem a bit by saying he looks up to me for my independence and self-reliance and that I'm better than what/who I'm planning on dooming myself to be. It made me realize two things: first, I'm not as confident as I've always tried to convince myself to be and, second, he sure is one hekka ass-kisser. So now, I'm ready to take on anything once again. Maybe sometimes, you really do just need someone to have faith in you when all your faith has been blown away by the gusts of reality. I'm stepping out into the real world. Bye idealistic pseudo-philosophies. Byebye.
I need to feel good about myself so I can start feeling good about my realationships. That just proves I'm sloppy and clumsy beyond compare.
Heck, I know damn well nobody even really bothers to read this crap. Skim skim skim, people. And steal what you can. I don't care about intellectual property anymore `cause I don't think anyone would even attest to my alleged intellect. Ugh. Too much House!!!
Oh.
Happy Burpday Bossing Gwaping Miguelito. Hurrah. Maybe today would be your turn to treat me to a Hotshots Ultimate Cheeseburger. And throw in some wedge fries, too.
Everybody is Somebody's Fool
I used to believe in love. I still think I do now but I'm not so sure anymore. I just realized that love is merely an abstract excuse people use to justify their irrational moments of weakness and lack of logic. I will, time and again, fall in love with him who would be in love with her who could be in love with him who just might be in love with another him. Well... there lies the funn of it all. I noticed that there's always a particular factor for fascination that makes someone be attached to another. Be it an exceptional talent/passion, fame by reputation, notable
kakulitan, profound intelligence, or even the reluctance to commit. It's that fascination that makes people act so foolish. We're all ditzy fangirls whether we admit it or not.
It fascinates me to witness love being expressed and repressed. Ah. How does one know love from lust or fascination or admiration or obssession? It takes real faith not to ask this question and just to believe.
Oh dear God, lead me back to that faith.
It's the winter of my heart again. Boys, like seasons, have come and gone again and again. Yet, I still haven't found what I've been looking for. Or rather, it (HE) has not yet found me. Why I'm all cried out for what couldn't wouldn't shouldn't be is just pathetic. Simply me.
A sorta fairytale with you
If there was something I'd give anything to do these days, it'd be to slowdance with someone
who sees me in a special light to the tunes of Walking After You and A Sorta Fairytale under a full moon in a star-speckled sky.
We would do it all night till daybreak. Throw in all those Prom soundtracks that make Catholic high school girls wet their hankies... Last Dance, All of my Life, Without You... yey. Glory of Love, even.
All night long. It's BTS. Better than multiple orgasms, actually. So so gay. Happy happy joy joy.
You can leave the memories open... It's not dying anyway.
Hm. I'm turning my safety off. Ready to fall in love with you. Again. Over and over and over.
Why am I mourning for your imminent departure when you barely showed you cared when I was the one who was leaving? Perhaps because although you discreetly went out of your fucking way from time-to-time to ignore me and to convince yourself we never were, you have always been just there... an SMS, a call, an affair away for me to get an empty hug from whenever I needed one.
I didn't realize that just there is actually just here compared to there there. Amazing how I managed to give me a fucking migraine with that one sentence. But it does make sense.
It may no longer mean anything to you, and you would probably hate me for the rest of your depressed existence... But I will miss you everyday for the rest of mine. We shared seconds but those seconds were eons compared to the hours with others who tried and failed to do what you did. You reminded me how to feel and care... and be hurt.
I would thank you but you don't give a crap anyway so I'd just hope you find that one girl you would want to wake up to for the rest of your life who would feel the same for you. As for me, I wish that I'd be anywhere with anyone... making out. Just not alone.
Lucky me if it'd be with Wentworth Miller. Current coital fantasy. I'd break out of any prison with him. Haha.
